Ivy

My boyfriend is so freakin’ hot.

I press my nose against the glass, peering out as he stops to take a break from cutting the grass around the garden center. It’s sweltering outside and he’s worked up quite a sweat pushing the lawn mower up and down the property. As a result of his labor, his white t-shirt is clinging to his chest in all the right places. I sigh happily, taking him in.

He has no clue that I’m watching as he picks up a water bottle and pours it over his head, forming a trail that trickles down the length of his body. I clutch the windowsill as I feel that all too familiar twinge between my legs. Being pregnant, my hormones are on fire and it doesn’t take much to get me going. So it’s no wonder a moan escapes my lips when he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he casually begins to strip in front of me.

My cheeks burn as he lifts his arms over his head, removing his shirt, elongating every inch of his defined abs. My eyes follow his v-shaped pelvic muscle as it dips suggestively below his belt buckle. My breathing becomes heavy as he stretches, causing his jeans to ride even lower on his hips. My pulse skyrockets as he proceeds to wring the water out of his shirt, flexing his glistening biceps against the rays of the setting sun.

I squirm against the window, forcing my knees together. My movement catches his attention and he glances up, meeting my gaze. A sexy grin slowly spreads across his face when he realizes the effect he’s having on me. My mouth is open. I’m literally panting for him. He shakes his head and chuckles softly. My heart clenches at how adorable he looks.

He’s not the kind of guy who flaunts his body, but for me it seems like he enjoys being on display. He runs his hands through his damp hair, tousling it before grabbing another bottle of water. He winks at me, tilting back his head and taking a long swig. He closes his eyes, his lips wrapped around the bottle, teasing me. He smiles when he’s done, beckoning me with his finger.

I don’t hesitate for a moment. I gladly leave the confines of his air-conditioned office and rush outside. He’s waiting, his eyes smoldering. He stands with his hands on his hips, watching as I approach. It’s unseasonably mild for October, and I step out of my clogs as I draw nearer to him. His gaze never leaves my face. It only intensifies, causing me to blush even more.

I get close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek, but I don’t speak. Instead, I run my hands across the wide breadth of his shoulders and down his heaving chest. My touch must be driving him wild because I can feel his heart thudding beneath my fingertips. His skin is so smooth and firm. He’s a man’s man who’d never dream of waxing his upper body, and a trail of soft, fine hair guides me to his belly button and beyond.

“How can I expect to get anything done around here with you touching me like that?” Eric asks, his voice all husky as I find the zipper of his jeans.

“Well, you shouldn’t be tempting me by getting naked in front of the window,” I whisper seductively as he grabs my wrist, preventing me from lowering his zipper and undressing him any further.

With my free hand, I start to remove my dress when he growls, “I don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.” He scans the horizon for any approaching vehicles, but there are none to be found. “No one’s ever going to hear what you sound like when you come. Only me.”

He lifts me in his arms, and I’m flush against his chest. I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me toward the greenhouse. I don’t know if Ben left for the day. He’s the quarterback from Glendale High who’s been working here part-time. If he’s still around, he’s about to get an earful. According to Eric, I can get pretty loud.

Eric pushes the door open with his back, his lips never leaving mine. The steaminess of the enclosed space is like a sauna. Eric’s skin feels slick across mine, and I’m stifling with this sundress on. I want it off. Wriggling in his embrace, I attempt to lower one of the straps.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Eric chides me. “That’s my job.” He nuzzles the dainty strap with his nose until it falls from my shoulder. I wince when he rakes his stubbled chin across my chest. “What’s wrong?” he asks, raising his head, the picture of concern.

“My breasts are still sensitive, but don’t stop. Trust me, what you’re doing feels so good,” I cry, groaning as he removes the other strap before massaging each nipple with his tongue. I tighten my legs around him and throw back my head, straining against him. He’s still holding me up. Sometimes I forget how strong he is.

“They were always beautiful, but now they’re spectacular,” he proclaims, fondling their newfound fullness. “I can’t wait to see what your boobs look like after you have the baby.”

But I barely hear him. I’m too caught up in what he’s doing to me, lost in the sensations flooding through my body. I’m horny all the time now, and on muggy days like this, I don’t want to be constricted by a stupid bra. I like giving him easy access so he can relieve my aching breasts whenever he can.

We’ve been so naughty lately, but I can’t complain. He’s always ready to oblige my needs no matter where we are—on the counter next to the cash register, in the field he’s planting out back, in the bed of his truck on the side of the road.

One of these days we’re going to get caught, and then everyone in town will have even more to gossip about, considering how they all still hate me for ‘stealing’ Eric away from Lauren. Yeah, I’m the young slut who threw herself between the perfect couple. And to top it off, I got myself knocked up in the process. How scandalous is that?

Well, that’s Lauren’s version of events anyway, and sadly it’s the one most people tend to believe. I don’t have enough influence around here to get them to buy my side of the story. College is on hold, and in the meantime, I have nowhere else to go. I’m barefoot and pregnant, and I’m shacking up with everyone’s favorite grieving bachelor. Yep, that’s me—the young harlot who’s taking advantage of a poor guy who’s down on his luck. Ah, the hypocrisy.

But even these unbidden thoughts aren’t enough to quench the desire building inside me. My body has a mind of its own—all it wants is sex, sex, and more sex. I can’t get enough. And after two years of self-imposed celibacy, Eric is certainly making up for lost time. I have to admit that he’s always up for the challenge, determined to keep me satisfied. It only makes me crave him more.

“Eric, please…” I writhe, biting my lip. “I need you.”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, his eyes blazing. He lifts his head from between my breasts and hikes up my dress, cupping my ass with his callused hands. At first, I wasn’t used to the roughness of his touch, but now I wouldn’t have him any other way. He works hard for a living, and when it comes to pleasuring me, I relish in knowing just how much my man strives to provide for me. For the first time in my life, I feel secure.

He strides over to the blanket already set up in the back among the hanging rose bushes. The seclusion of the greenhouse is one of our favorite rendezvous spots. We’ve made love countless times in here, even with customers rustling around outside. I think the thrill excites us both.

Placing me down on the soft flannel, he hooks his thumbs through the elastic band of my hot pink thong, yanking it down. He gets a kick out of the fact that I’m still wearing thongs for his amusement, even though my belly is beginning to bulge. He loves how I’m trying to maintain an element of sexiness during my pregnancy.

He unzips the side of my sundress, bunching it in his fingers as he lowers it over my hips, tossing it over his shoulder. I’m completely naked now, and the lush, humid air of the greenhouse caresses my skin. I stretch out, raising my hands above my head, sighing in contentment, letting him take in my every move. I close my eyes as his breathing increases.