36. JT

CHAPTER 36

JT

Since I started to lean on my team just a little, things have been a bit easier. Maggie has gotten close with the other guys’ girlfriends and even bonded with Vlad. They share a love of gardening and apparently, he can grow the hell out of a Venus fly trap. Why am I not surprised?

Our schedule is ramping up though and regionals are right around the corner. We just got back from a road trip up the East Coast, and we have two games against Mountville at home this weekend. Coach gave us a day to rest, but instead of catching up on sleep, I’m going to school.

Parenting school.

I’ve been doing a ton of reading, but I’m no expert on babies. Instead of winging it like an idiot or relying on Maggie to guide me, I’m getting lessons from the best parents I know: Josie and Pete.

They may not be actual, biological parents, but Josie’s taken care of her younger siblings for the past five years. Iris, the youngest one, was only a couple months old when their parents died in a car accident, so she’s got lots of experience with babies. As for Pete, not only does he manage to wrangle the hockey team into submission—which is no easy feat—but he’s been helping out with his two brothers since their dad split years ago.

These two know a whole lot more than I do about parenting, which is why I’m sitting at Josie’s kitchen island on a Wednesday afternoon, with a stack of baby doll clothes to my left and a stack of diapers to my right. Milo, Josie’s eight-year-old brother, sits across from me with a stopwatch in his grip. Pete and Van are at the table, pounding sports drinks and laughing their asses off.

“You ready?” Milo asks, his thumb damn near twitching.

I look down at Baby Lala, Jr., the doll Iris gave to me. The OG Lala is headless, so this one’s a step up, even if her face is covered in Sharpie.

“I’ve got two minutes to fold this laundry and diaper the baby?” I ask, even though I’m well aware of the challenge before me.

“Yep,” Milo says, a gleam in his eye. This kid’s up to something. I’m just not sure what.

I nod and he starts the time the second my chin dips. My hands are bigger than the clothes I’m folding, but my fingers are nimble, so I make quick work of the stack. I’ve been doing my own laundry since I was Milo’s age, so folding doesn’t scare me. That task accomplished with time to spare, I scoop up the baby and start unfolding a diaper. I’ve never done this before, but I’m going to let common sense take the lead. It’s got to close in the front, otherwise the kid would have to be face-down at some point, and I’m pretty sure that’s a safety hazard. I’ve got the diaper open and I’m about to fasten one of the tabs when a blob hits me square in the chest. Startled, I look up to see another glop of goo being launched in my direction. Tillie, Milo’s twin, is behind the attack, and she can’t contain her giggles. Neither can Milo and Iris. “What the heck?” I ask as my eyes focus back on the task in front of me. This sticky tab is really sticky, dammit.

“It’s projectile vomit!” Milo croons gleefully .

“And poo!” Iris chimes in, tossing another glob in my direction before lobbing one across the room at Van, who deftly catches it in his mouth.

“It’s brownie bites,” he says around a mouthful.

Santos cracks up. “You better hope that’s what it is. I wouldn’t trust these three.”

“Done!” I call out, smoothing the tab across the diaper before pumping my fist in the air.

Milo whistles his approval. “One minute and seventeen seconds. That’s gotta be a record.”

“That’s pretty good,” Tillie offers. “But you should try it with real baby clothes. Your time would be more accurate. We tried getting you a real baby because Miss Emily next door has one, but she said no.”

“Well, it was nice of you to try,” I say, not blaming Miss Emily one bit for refusing to let a stranger diaper her baby all in the name of practice. “And Maggie has picked up a couple things for the baby, but you’re right. I need game-like conditions. We’re playing at home Friday and Saturday, so I’m taking Maggie shopping on Sunday. That’ll give me plenty of time to sharpen my folding skills with actual clothes before the baby gets here.”

“You’re shopping on Sunday?” Josie asks, strolling into the room. “You should stop here first. I’ve got some things left over from Iris that are still in good shape, and our neighbor has some things she’s ready to get rid of, too. Van and I can gather it all up for Sunday. Maybe around one? Right, Van?” She pins Van and Santos with a look, and I’m guessing she’s got a to-do list they’re working their way through.

Van looks confused for a second, then begins nodding. “Yeah. One o’clock is perfect.”

“Alright, cool. Thanks.” Maggie’s usually an early bird, but I bet I can think of something for us to do for a few hours Sunday morning.

“Hey, Cinderella,” I call as I step into our quiet apartment. “I’m home.”

“I’ll be right out,” Maggie calls from the bedroom.

After ditching my shoes and my hoodie, I start rooting around in the fridge to see what I can put together for dinner. I’m still carrying Baby Lala, Jr. because Iris gifted her to me and even though it’s fucking ridiculous—and this baby doll is creepy as hell with its tatted-up face—I want to get used to doing everyday tasks while one of my hands is occupied. Maybe it’s because I only know what a family is supposed to look like based on what I’ve seen on TV or from glimpses at my friends’ lives, but I don’t want to miss a minute of this little Nugget’s life. The next two years will be hectic, no doubt, since I’ll be working as much as possible in the off-season, but I plan to be around for everything—the huge milestones and the everyday stuff, even if it means getting by on just a few hours’ sleep.

Maggie hasn’t come out yet, and I’m deciding between tacos and stir-fry. It’s feeling like Taco Wednesday to me, but the smell of ground beef could either be mouth-watering or nausea inducing for my girl, so I open our bedroom door to ask her opinion.

The words never leave my mouth.

The doll I’m holding drops to the floor.

I can’t even blink. Every part of my body has turned to granite at the sight in front of me.

“Oh, hey…Um, this is…how wild is it that they make maternity lingerie?”

It’s not wild at all. It’s fucking perfect. She’s fucking perfect.

I stride toward her and peel her hands away from her body, threading my fingers through hers.

She takes a step toward me so that her lace-covered belly brushes against the cotton of my t-shirt, but her eyes are looking at the ground. “I was hanging out with the girls tonight. Claire’s a photographer and she offered to do pictures once the baby arrives. She also offered to do a boudoir shoot, which?—”

“Yes,” I say. “Tell her yes.”

“Mel thought it was a great idea, so she dragged me to this frilly little boutique in Murraystown. They have a whole rack of maternity stuff and I was in a good mood and Mel is super persuasive, and yeah…It was on sale. I think it must be left over from Valentine’s Day since it’s red. But maybe I can return it?”

“Look at me,” I say, tipping her chin up. “Eyes on mine, Maggie.”

When her ocean-blue eyes meet mine, a surge of electricity pulses through my veins. “You’re so fucking hot,” I tell her.

Maggie blushes at my words. “JT?—”

I override any protest that’s about to fall from her lips. “I saw you across a fucking yard and had to get closer. I made love to you in a stranger’s bathtub because I couldn’t fucking wait to get inside you.” My lips press kisses along her jaw and collarbone as my hands trace the curve of her belly and the swell of her hips. “Every time we snuck into an empty room or a storage closet, I’d tell myself just one more time would be enough, but I knew it was a lie. I’ll never get enough of you. There will never be a time when I don’t want you, when the sight of you doesn’t drive me out of my damn mind. Tell me you get that, Cinderella.”

Her blush is back. “Yes, you’re horny. I get that. Believe me,” she says on a quiet laugh.

My body freezes and my gaze finds hers once again. “I’m not fucking joking, funny girl. But fine. You need proof? No problem.” I kiss her again as my fingers breach the lace barrier and slip beneath her folds. She’s already wet for me as she rocks against my hand. The needy bud of her clit is swollen, and the pad of my thumb is drawn to it like a magnet. I press firmly and make one, two, three tight circles before she’s quivering in my arms.

“Get there,” I tell her. “Give me this one and I promise you’ll get two more.” My words make her wetter, and that’s a heady feeling. A few more circular motions of my thumb and she’s gripping my biceps and calling my name. Pregnancy has increased her sensitivity everywhere and her first orgasm hits hard. I hold her as she shudders, then I trace the outline of her lips with my thumb—the same one that just pushed her over the edge.

Stepping back, I take my time and let my eyes roam over her body. The third trimester is here and there’s no mistaking that she’s carrying my baby. “Count to ten, Maggie,” I tell her.

My beautiful girlfriend blinks dubiously. “You want me to count after that? I’m not sure I can spell my own name right now.”

Tugging my shorts down, I grip my hard cock and repeat the directive. “Count. To. Ten. Maggie.”

She bites her lip and it’s gratifying to know that the sight of my naked body has the same effect on her that hers does on me. “One,” she says, her eyes lingering on my thick length.

I can’t help but stroke myself, my grip tight and punishing. Holy hell, I’m not even going to make it to ten. Just as the word “Six,” tumbles from her pouty, kissable, fuckable mouth, I come hard all over my fist and my abs. I’ve made a mess, but I’m just getting started.

“Fuck,” I curse, feeling the aftershocks of pleasure as they shoot through my body. Reaching for Maggie with my clean hand, I bring her over to the bed and grab some pillows. After tucking one under her belly and the other between her knees, I lie next to her, so close our faces are almost touching. “Had to take the edge off. One look at you in this,” I say, fingering the lace of her lingerie, “and I damn near came right then and there. Pretty sure the sight of you in nothing at all would have the same effect. What do you think? Should we try it?”

She giggles and strokes my cheek. “I think we have to. For science or math or whatever.”

“I’m a firm believer in science,” I say helping her shimmy out of the lacy nightie. “To be clear, I’m a firm believer in anything that gets you naked and in my arms.”

I lean in for a kiss and she hooks her leg over mine. Pregnancy has us trying different positions and I’ve got to say, I’m a fan. Haven’t found one I don’t love yet, but this is definitely one of my favorites because I get to watch her face as she comes undone. My cock’s still hard and aching for her, so when she wiggles her hips impatiently, I pull her close and push inside her. The sweet gasp that escapes her lips as I thrust in and out is going to be the soundtrack of my dreams when we’re on the road next weekend.

“So, how is it?” she asks, moving her right hand up to her full breast and toying with her nipple.

I close my eyes and curse. “Too fucking good, like always.” I lick her other breast, sucking and kissing because her skin tastes so damn good. My hand cups the underside of her belly and I’m amazed at how soft and hard it is at the same time.

I’m pumping faster now, eager for more of her moans and whimpers. She arches her back and the movement shifts us just enough to the change the angle so that I’m filling her up with my cock. My girl’s got a greedy pussy, and I fucking love it.

“I need it,” she keens, releasing her breast and gripping my shoulder.

“Yeah?” I pant. “What do you need, Cinderella? I’m at your fucking service.”

“Come,” she cries, her eyes fluttering shut.

“You want me to come? That why you’re squeezing me so good? Fuck. Fuck . ”

Maggie’s lips latch onto mine and our tongues tangle together. She pulls back, breathless, looks at me with those sky-blue eyes, and says, “Make me come, JT. Make me?—”

My fingers find her clit while my hips keep pistoning inside her. “Do it, Maggie. Come on my cock. Suck me fucking dry, Cinderella.”

Maggie’s nails dig into my skin as her inner walls convulse and I shout so loud that there’s no doubt Theo hears me from across the hall. Hell, Viv might hear me two floors down, and I don’t care. Sex with Maggie is so damn good every time, so I’m not gonna be sorry about getting a little loud. My girl’s plenty vocal, too, as she rides the high and comes back down.

“I’m so in love with you, JT Norris.” Maggie punctuates that beautiful bombshell with a sleepy, sated kiss.

Reluctantly, I peel myself away so I can clean her up and help her into the bathroom. It might not be super sexy, but it’s part of our life and our love and I wouldn’t change a thing. I love Maggie just as much when she’s wearing sexy lingerie as I do when she’s sore and tired and needs a backrub. I love her in this moment just as much as I’ll love her when I’m holding her hair back when she’s sick as a dog the next time I get her pregnant.

Because this is just the beginning.