Twisted (26 page)

her hair is long and shiny. It sways left to right as she moves.

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her brow’s wrinkled tiredly, and one hand rests on her lower back

to help support the immensity that is her front.

I can’t take my eyes off her. She’s adorably round. Like one of

those Weeble Wobbles I played with as a kid. She plops down on

the couch next to me and puts her swollen Fred Flintstone–like

feet on the coffee table.

“I’m so huge.”

I smile and put my hand on her firm mound, rubbing it like a

bald head for good luck. Knowing there’s a real live baby in there, seeing him or her move beneath Kate’s skin, is pretty frigging amazing.

When there’s a Yankee game on, I talk to it—give him a play-

by-play, like a seeing-eye sportscaster. And at night, when Kate is asleep, I balance the TV remote on her stomach just to watch the

baby kick it off from the inside. Cool, right? In a weird
Aliens
kind of way, but still cool.

“You really
are
huge,” I say. “I think you’ve doubled in size since breakfast.”

The whole room goes eerily silent.

And Kate stares at my hand a second too long. “Excuse me . . .

I have to . . . go . . .” She stands up and shuffles as quickly as she can down the hall.

Probably going to piss—she does that a lot lately.

Then Delores slaps me.

Smack.

In the fucking ear. “Ow!” I rub my stinging lobe.

Shamu lets out an exasperated sigh. “Could you give him one

from me, Delores? I don’t think I can get up.”

Smack.

“Jesus! What the fuck?”

Alexandra’s all over me. “What are you
thinking
? You don’t tell a woman who’s three days from her due date that she’s huge!”

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“I didn’t.
She
said it. I just agreed with her.”

“Delores.”

Smack.

“Christ Almighty!”

If the ear-ringing is any indication, there’s an excellent chance

I’ve just gone deaf.

“Kate knows I didn’t mean it like that.”

Delores crosses her arms smugly. “Sure she does, Dipshit.

That’s why she’s in the bathroom crying her eyes out right now.”

I swallow hard and look down the hall. It’s possible that Delo-

res is just screwing with me. It’s her favorite pastime these days, making me feel guilty for all the shit that Kate has already forgiven me for. Delores Warren is the Mickey Mantle of grudge holding.

Alexandra pulls herself from the couch. “And on that note—

roll me home, Steven. As fun as it is to watch my little brother

grovel, I’m too tired to really enjoy it at the moment.”

Delores and Matthew get up to go too, so the four of them can

share a cab. Though I really don’t know how that’s going to work—

Alexandra’s gonna need the entire backseat for herself.

I’ll keep that little observation to myself, however.

Besides, I have more important matters to deal with. Like find-

ing my girlfriend.

I knock softly at the bathroom door. “Kate?”

There’s shuffling behind the door. “I’ll be right out.”

Shit
. her voice is stuffy. Wet. Delores wasn’t screwing with me.

I reach up and grab the key from its spot on top of the molding. I Twisted_1P.indd 217

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unlock the door and open it slowly, and there she is. Standing in

front of the mirror, with tear tracks staining her cheeks.

Kate turns to look at me and hiccups. her tone is pitiful. Sad.

“I don’t want to be fat.”

She covers her face with her hands and sobs into them.

I try to hold in the laugh. Really. But she looks so cute and

miserable, I don’t quite pull it off. I wrap my arms around her from behind. “You’re not fat, Kate.”

her voice is muffled by her hands. “Yes, I am. I couldn’t put

my shoes on yesterday. Dee Dee had to help me because I couldn’t

reach.”

This time I can’t help laughing out loud. I rest my chin on her

shoulder and pull her hands down from her face. Our eyes meet in

the mirror. “You’re pregnant—not fat.” I think for a moment and

then add matter-of-factly, “Alexandra’s fat.”

her damp eyes squint. “She’s pregnant.”

“Not in her thighs.”

Kate shakes her head. “You’re so mean.”

“I’m not trying to be. I’m just trying to point out the fact that

you’re gorgeous.” I rub my hands up and down her narrow hips.

“Sexy as hell.”

And I’m not bullshitting her. The midsection might be at max-

imum capacity, but her legs are slim. Toned. And she’s still sporting the sweetest, tightest ass this side of the hudson River.

Sure, she’s hormonal and irrational half the time—but the

other half of the time, she’s horny. hornier then I’ve ever seen her.

Plus—there’s the boobs. Can’t forget them. They’re almost as big as her head. So much fun.

Not that there’s anything wrong with Kate’s everyday breasts—

but pregnancy tits are like India. You don’t have to stay forever, but it sure is exciting to visit.

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Kate doubts my sincerity. “Sexy? Please. Don’t blow smoke up

my ass, Drew.”

I smirk. “Trust me sweetheart—if I’m thinking about slipping

something up your ass? It’s not gonna be smoke.”

She turns in my arms, unconvinced. “how could you ever

think this”—she points to her body—“is sexy?”

I hesitate. And rub the back of my neck. “It might make you

mad.”

“Risk it.”

I shrug. “Well . . . I did this to you.” A fact I’m sure she won’t let me forget, once we’re in the delivery room. “I made you like

this—left my mark. That’s my kid you’re incubating. It’s like a big neon sign that says PROPERTY OF DREW EVANS. Call me a caveman,

but that’s a major frigging turn on for me.”

She’s quiet for a minute, then looks down at our joined hands.

“What if I can’t lose the weight after the baby’s born?”

“You will.”

“But what if I don’t?”

I shrug again. “Then I’ll become a chubby chaser. A little extra

cushion for the pushin’ isn’t a bad thing.”

She rolls her eyes, but then she laughs. I cup her face with

both hands and bring her lips to mine. The kiss starts off sweet and tender.

And then it’s . . . not.

her teeth nip at my lips. hard and urgent. Begging for more.

And my legs tremble with the need to please her.

It still amazes me—the power she has. This tiny woman can

bring me to my knees with a look . . . a sigh. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’ve been to the other side. I’ve seen what freedom has to offer.

Misery.

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Bring on the fucking chains; I’ll take slavery any day.

Kate pulls back, eyes closed. Panting. “Drew . . . Drew, I

need . . .”

I push the hair back from her face. “What, baby, tell me? What

do you need?”

her eyes open. “Do you want me, Drew?”

I suck on her bottom lip. And hiss, “Yes.”

“Show me. Make me feel it. Don’t think about the baby . . .

just . . . fuck me . . . like before . . .”

Holy Mary Mother of God.

Okay, at the moment, Kate is . . . stretched. Delicate. Like a

water balloon that’s been filled too much.

I’ve had to make conscious effort to take it easy with her in

the sex department. Slow and gentle, despite some fantastically

creative positions. But now, the things she’s saying—her voice—

Christ, it’s all I can do not to bend her over the sink and fuck her till we both go blind.

“I want it hard . . . please, Drew . . . like we used to . . .”

Jesus, this is what a deranged gorilla must feel like, right after he’s escaped the zoo.

“Just . . . don’t look at me, if . . .”

Like a piece of dried tinder, I snap. I grab her arms tighter

than I should and spin her around. My hand tangles in her hair,

yanking her head back so I can assault her neck. And my raging

hard-on grinds against her ass. Kate moans. My other hand slides

up her stomach, gripping her breasts roughly. They overflow in my

palm. And our mouths fuse together, tongues plunging, wrestling.

I hook an arm under her knees and sweep her up, heading straight

for the bedroom.

Kate pushes against my chest. “Wait, Drew—I’m too heavy.

You’ll hurt yourself.”

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If I wasn’t so aroused, I’d be pretty freaking insulted. I cut her off with another deep kiss. Then I lay her out on the bed.

I take my time opening the buttons on the front of her dress,

one by one. Not to tease her—but to show her. “‘Don’t look at me,’

my ass! Looking at you is the best fucking part.”

Okay, it’s not the
best
part. But it’s a really good part.

She wiggles impatiently and I unhook her bra. She slides it

off her arms. I take a moment to admire my handiwork, caressing

every inch of her bare body with my eyes.
Stunning
.

Then I bury my face between her tits, laving and sucking, giv-

ing each bountiful mound its due.

Kate arches her back and pulls at my hair. Writhing. I rip my

shirt over my head.

her arms wrap around my back—kneading—pulling me

closer. I moan and nibble a trail up her throat to plant another

long kiss on her mouth. I don’t want her thinking about the baby

right now, but I can’t pass by the hump without paying it homage.

My lips press against it once, reverently.

Then I stand up. I tear at my belt and slide my pants and box-

ers to the floor. Kate is breathing fast. her lips are parted and swollen. And her eyes are on fire—on me.

I grab her ankles and drag her to the edge of the bed, wrapping

her legs around my hips.

I slide my cock up and down between her lips, coating the

head with her wetness.

Then I stop and our eyes lock. I know she wants a bumpy ride,

and I aim to please, but first: “If I hurt you—if you’re uncomfortable at all—you have to tell me.”

She nods quickly. And it’s the only reassurance I need before

I slam into her.
Fuck.
We moan together, long and low. My head rolls back and I thrust again.

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She’s tighter now. I don’t know if it’s the baby pressing every-

thing together or just the fact that God is good, but her cunt grips me like a Venus fucking flytrap savoring its last meal. My hips

pound against hers, crashing and rubbing, as rough as I dare.

It feels primitive. Raw. And so exquisitely intense, it could be

illegal. her massive breasts bounce with each push. She’s gasping

and groaning, loving every second of it. Kate reaches for my hips, but they’re too far out of range. She grips the bed sheets instead and mangles them.

Keeping the pace swift and steady, I slide my hand between us

and rub her clit, just the way she likes. Then I move higher, pinching those gorgeous dark nipples. Kate’s tits have always been a hot spot, but lately they’ve been extra sensitive.

her mouth opens, but only small whimpers come out. And

that’s just unacceptable.

“Come on, baby, you can do better than that.”

I give each pointy peak a good, long tug. And she screams,

“Drew . . . Drew . . . yes . . .”

So much fucking better.

I move my hands to her knees and hold on for leverage. Pull-

ing her toward me as I push forward. Skin slapping skin. “God . . .

Kate . . .”

I’m not going to be able to hold out much longer. At this rate I

really didn’t expect to. My chin drops to my chest and I reach down and grab her ass. Lifting her up—plunging deeper. Moving faster.

Kate’s legs tighten on me and I know she’s close too. And she’s

moaning . . . chanting . . . it’s a beautiful thing. And then she goes rigid under me. Clenching around me. Taking me down with her.

I grip her waist, holding her close as we come together.

Later, when our breaths finally return to normal, I collapse on

the bed next to her. “God
damn
. That never gets old.”

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She laughs. “Yeah. I needed that.”

Then she bites her bottom lip and looks at me sideways. Bash-

fully.

“Want to do it again?”

Like she really needs to ask.

A few hours later, I wake up from my sex-induced coma to the

sound of Kate’s voice.

“Ugh . . . goddamn pizza. Damn whoever invented it.”

I rub the sleep from my eyes and glance out the window. It’s

still dark outside, just a couple hours after midnight. Kate is pacing across the room, rubbing her belly. Breathing hard.

“Kate? What’s going on?”

She stops in her tracks and looks my way. “Nothing. Go back

to sleep.” She moans softly. “Just indigestion.”

Just indigestion?

Famous last words.

And the next thing you know, Uncle Morty’s lying on a slab

in the morgue from the massive heart attack he never knew he was

having. Not on my watch, buddy.

In a flash, I’m out of bed—sweatpants on. I stand next to Kate,