“All right, guys.” Liz pushes back from my parents’ table, collecting the cookies her kids just decorated onto a plate and covering it in plastic wrap. “We need to do presents so I can go put these two to bed so Santa can pass.”
It’s been tradition since we were little kids for our families to gather on Christmas Eve for dinner and cookie decorating and to exchange gifts.
The realization that we can keep the ritual alive with our own children without worrying over alternating which family we spend the holidays with is an instant relief.
We move to the living room and gather around the massive tree to watch the kids open their presents.
From Lizzie, they get holiday pajamas. Their faces light up like they’re surprised, even though it’s what they get every Christmas Eve from their mother. It’s what each of us got from our parents at our little holiday get together, as well.
My parents gift them season passes to the zoo. Lyle’s parents keep it simple with a baby doll for Annabelle and Nerf gun for Carter, leaving their bigger gifts for tomorrow.
“Is it my turn now?” Lyle is chomping at the bit to give them their presents from us.
“I thought you gotted us the snow?” Carter’s face is a mix of confusion and excitement when Frank lugs in two huge boxes, one at a time, from the car.
“That was for all of us. These are just for you two.”
Annabelle starts jumping up and down, screaming without even knowing what’s in the box. The Barbie paper is enough to have her losing her damn mind.
“Open it, crazy girl,” I say when Carter starts tearing into his John Deere paper.
“I gotted a tractor!” Carter does a goofy little dance, cracking us all up.
“And I got a Barbie convertible!”
“You got them Powerwheels?” Liz glares at her brother. “This is all they’re gonna want to do now.”
He shrugs. “It was that or puppies.”
When I see the horror on Liz and her parents’ faces, with whom she still lives, I decide to egg it on a bit. “I really wanted to get her a miniature pony, and Carter a tiny cow, but Lyle shut that down.”
“Absolutely not.” Trudy’s face contorts in what looks almost like pain. “You made the right choice.”
“Hey, I got a little something for the kids too.”
Everyone turns to look at Frank, who’s standing off to the side with an envelope in his hand.
The enormous man is practically sweating with nerves. It’s adorable.
“You didn’t have t—”
“I know,” he says, stepping forward. “I wanted to.” He hands the card to the kids, who tear into it immediately.
“We’re going to Disney Land?” Carter’s already doing that damn dance again before he knows what it is he’s got.
“No.” Frank chokes on his laughter. “It’s tickets to Disney On Ice. It’s in three days, so I hope you didn’t have plans already.”
“Of course, she doesn’t have plans,” I volunteer when the cat seems to have stolen my bestie’s tongue. “Right?” I say, giving her a nudge in the shin with my foot.
“No.” There’s an unmistakable tremor to her voice. “We don’t have plans.” She takes the offered envelope from her daughter. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His cheeks are rosy, and he’s fidgeting like a little boy. You could cut the sexual tension between these two with a knife.
“There’s four tickets in here.” Liz’s eyes widen.
“Yeah. You could take your mom or…”
“Or him,” I volunteer, unable to stand another minute of this awkward exchange. “How convenient. It’s the night before we head back to Nashville.”
“That is very convenient.” Trudy can’t hide the joy from her face.
“Frank is coming?” Annabelle rushes over to hug his leg. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Princess. But only if your mom says it’s okay. She might have someone else she wants to take.”
“Liz,” I straight growl. “Put the man out of his misery, for God’s sake.”
She shakes herself from a stupor. “Yes.” Her throat clears. “Yeah. That sounds like fun. We’d love for you to join us.”
A Cheshire grin splits his face. “Great.”
The two stare at each other, making eyes until the rest of us reach the point of damn near losing our dinner.
“All right you two,” Dane finally says. “Get a room.”
Annabelle perks up. “What’s that mean?”
“What he means,” Liz answers with a dark look at Dane, “is that you two”—she points between her kids—“need to get to your rooms so Santa doesn’t miss us.”
“Wait!” Daddy jumps up with a fire I haven’t seen from him in quite a while. “Let’s give Sammi and Lyle their gift first.”
“Oh, yeah.” Liz blows the hair out of her eyes. “Go ahead, Mr. Wayne.”
“Well, we know how crazy it’s been making the two of you, not knowing if bean is a girl or a boy…”
“So,” my mother-in-law Grace pipes in, “we got you a 3D ultrasound here in town for the day after tomorrow.”
“But—” Liz cuts me off when I start to thank them, “the tech is under strict orders not to tell you, because the other part of your gift is a gender reveal party and celebratory baby shower!”
“This is amazing.” I start to tear up and Lyle grabs my hand, squeezing it tight. “When’s the party?” I ask, starting to panic, because I don’t know how long I can wait, especially knowing someone else will know the answer I’ve been so desperate for.
“That afternoon.” My mom’s face is radiant. “Just a small thing here after you get back. Liz is going to tag along so the tech can give her the correct set of confetti poppers. Not even Liz will know until you fire them off.”
“How can you have a shower immediately following?” Lyle gnaws his lower lip.
“Oh, don’t worry…these ladies bought everything in both pink and blue, including ordering a girl-themed cake and a boy-themed cake,” Dane offers with a roll of his eyes. “They’re fully prepared for either outcome.”
“It’s true,” Grace admits, slightly embarrassed. “We have girl presents and boy presents, and we just kept receipts to return the stuff we end up not needing. We didn’t want to get you more unisex stuff.”
“I don’t even know what to say… thank you all so much.”
“You’re welcome.” Momma walks over and wraps her arms around my shoulders. “I hate that we couldn’t be there for your last shower. We wanted to show you how excited we are and celebrate the arrival of baby bean with the both of you.”
“I can’t imagine a better gift,” Lyle gushes. “It’s perfect.”
We wrap up gift giving with the parents and siblings and bid the children a good night before heading out to the car, with Frank trailing a respectful distance behind.
“They’re prepared for either outcome,” my husband speaks into my temple, holding me close to keep me warm.
“Mmhmm,” I nod, breathing in his scent, eager to get home and ravish him.
“The question is, dear wife…is your booty-hole prepared for either outcome?”
“Why so tense, love?” my husband teases, while gently lathering my hair into a massive hive atop my head. The scent of lavender wafts into the air while traces of today’s news puddle around my toes before swirling down the drain. Blue powder and glitter and tiny slivers of foil confetti trickle along our nude bodies—his hard and sculpted, mine round and ever changing with the evidence of our son, growing in my womb.
The way my heart leaped when we fired off those poppers. A baby boy. Finally knowing makes everything so much more real. I can’t wait to get back to our house in Nashville and personalize his nursery and wardrobe.
“Oh, I don’t know.” I grip the wrist of the hand that’s yet again wandering entirely too close to forbidden territory. “Maybe because you keep poking and prodding at my asshole,” I squeak when he gives up and reaches around to pinch my extended nipple.
“Relax, Li’l Bit.” His breath is warm on my neck, despite us being in a steaming shower. “I would never do anything you weren’t a hundred percent onboard with, even if I did win.”
I snort at his now-constant reminders of his victory, sucking a lungful of soapy water.
“Woah,” he says chuckling as he gently thumps a palm on my back. “It’s not that serious. Being a loser is no reason to drown yourself.”
“But it might be reason enough to drown you,” I threaten, whirling around with narrowed eyes. I try to pull off an intimidating look but end up giggling instead. It’s hard to be mad at a naked man with “Property of Li’l Bit” tattooed on his junk. “Kneel down.”
“Hold up…” He pinches his puckered lips. “Shouldn’t I, as the winner, be ordering you, the loser, around?”
I shrug. “Fine then, wash your own hair.” I grab my loofa and add more soap before making a show of washing my tits, my belly…
Lyle drops to his knees, taking the sponge from my hand. He goes to work on my lower half while practically purring as I gently scratch my nails over his scalp.
“Have a seat on the ledge.” He runs a palm up my calf. “Getting a little prickly down here.”
I do as he says with the biggest grin splitting my face. In the last month this baby has really been growing. About a week ago Lyle saw me struggling to shave and volunteered himself for the job. Now every other day or so, he pampers me. The man has made shaving an art, buying all sorts of products I didn’t even realize existed.
He starts with a tub of hot pink goop, rubbing the gritty substance up and down my right leg, massaging it further in slow circles.
“Feels so good,” I say as my head drops back, resting against the tile while the steam from the still running water billows around us.
He retrieves the removable showerhead and rinses it off before applying a layer of shaving foam. With the gentlest touch, he runs a fresh blade over my skin, before moving to the other leg. Then come my knees…then my thighs.
“Gonna shave your pussy now, love.” His voice is raspy seduction as he grips my knees and ever so slowly pulls my legs apart.
My clit pulses and heat fires through my veins when he bends forward and swipes the tip of his tongue along my slit, flitting it over the swollen bundle of nerves before moaning his satisfaction.
I never in my life thought I’d be this comfortable with another human. But I can’t think of anything at this point I wouldn’t let him do…well, besides fucking my ass. But in all honesty, if I wasn’t seven months pregnant, I probably wouldn’t be so terrified of the idea. I’m sure in due time, I’ll give him that too. For now, I’ll enjoy watching him beg.
“Lyle,” I moan, clutching two fists full of his wet hair.
“Stop squirming.” With a chuckle he retrieves the special vulva exfoliator he purchased from some highly acclaimed vajacialist.
I swear the man goes all out in every situation. I’ve been shaving my entire body with soap all my life. But not my husband. He’s made it his mission to learn and teach me the proper way to care for my bits.
“Then stop trying to seduce me.”
“Sorry. She was just there, in my face. Taunting me with her shimmering essence.”
“Essence?” I laugh.
“Sounds better than discharge, right?”
I think I just threw up in my mouth. “Eww. You had to go there?” I shake my head while he gets to work, smoothing the gritty, rose-scented vag-foliant over my lower lips. “You could have said come, or uh—” I moan, trying not to move too much as he massages it in with the pads of his thumbs. “Umm…something romantic like…Oh, I know!”
He pauses and looks up, quirking a brow. “I’m listening. What should I have called your pussy juices?”
I spit out a laugh. “My arousal.”
“Not bad.” His head bobs as he gets back to work. The way he concentrates so hard is beyond adorable.
“It’s what they call it in the books I read. It’s sexier, right?”
“Sure,” he agrees, while reaching for the shower head.
My entire body thrums with anticipation as he adjusts the spray and rinses the exfoliator away, letting it linger for a beat right over my clit. Some garbled nonsense tumbles from my lips.
“Who knew shaving was such great foreplay?” His teeth clamp down on his lower lip as he increases the pressure on the sprayer, watching my reaction with blatant desire.
“Shh—shaving has never felt like this before,” I say, fighting the urge to touch myself.
“Almost done, Li’l Bit.” He drops the showerhead and lathers me up with a whipped concoction that also came from the aforementioned vagina guru. This one smells sweet—like cotton candy.
I no longer so much as flinch when he takes the blade to my most sensitive flesh. He takes more care and is far gentler than I have ever been with myself.
I’m so relaxed, in fact, that I’m beginning to doze right here in the shower when the spray returns. He rinses me clean then rewards my good behavior by spreading my lips and devouring my pussy. I’m already so worked up from all the attention he’s been lavishing on me, it doesn’t take long before I’m screaming my release and damn near ripping his hair out at the root.
“Oh my God,” I moan, coming down from my climax. “That was so good.”
With a megawatt smile he climbs to his feet, reaching for my hands to help me to mine. We stand under the rainfall briefly to rinse off any lingering suds. Then he grips my ass cheeks, pulling me as close as my basketball-sized belly will allow.
“Glad you enjoyed it,” he goads, tipping my chin up with a finger. “Cuz it’s time to pay up, loser.”
