don’t bother to tell her that I was planning to come home and draft a grocery list. I’d rather not say anything that will draw any attention to my perceived flaws.
And speaking of flaws, I glance around, noting that the place seems considerably cleaner. So clean that the camera bag I had in the corner of the living room is no longer there. “Mama Deanna, have you seen my black camera bag?”
“Oh, yes. I put it in a box in the garage. The place was too messy.”
Turning, I roll my eyes. In the past, Dominic’s mother has come for a week at a time, and I hate to say it, but I have counted the days until she left. I like the woman, don’t get me wrong. It’s just … well, she can be overbearing. I always hear from her that I’m not feeding Dom well enough and a host of other offenses—including the big issue, that we’re living in sin.
I head to the garage, where not only do I find my camera bag in a cardboard box—dumped as if it is garbage—but I see a number of envelopes. All of the bills that Dom and I have to pay. At least I know where the stuff is, so I don’t bother to take it out of the garage. I have no doubts that if I do, Mama Deanna will see to it that she “tidies up” once more.
I go back into the house and into the kitchen, where I pour myself a tall glass of orange juice. “So, how long are you staying?”
“Until you have the baby.”
I almost spit out the mouthful of orange juice. “W-what?”
“You need me now,” Mama Deanna explains. “I’ve had four babies. I know just what to do.”
She’s staying for the next four months? Did Dom know about this? I head into the foyer, where I left my purse and retrieve my cell phone. I plan to call him and ask exactly that. But before I can, I hear the sound of the garage door opening.
I open the door leading into the garage. I’m standing there as Dom gets out of his Audi. He is grinning, but it falters. Probably when he notices the expression on my face.
“Annelise—”
“She’s moving in for four months?” I ask.
“We never had a conversation about her moving in for four months.”
“But she is moving in, isn’t she?”
“She said she wants to help out, yes. And I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”
I show him the box with our bills and my camera equipment. “This is her idea of cleaning up,” I point out. “If she keeps this up, we’ll never find anything.”
Dom opens the trunk and begins lifting out the groceries, which are packed in reusable tote bags. “She means well.”
“You should have talked to me. Run this by me.”
With two heavy bags in his hands, Dom closes the trunk and then walks toward me. When he reaches me, he leans forward to give me a kiss. “She showed up out of the blue.”
“You had no clue?”
“I was talking to her last week, and she said that she wanted to come and help out while you’re pregnant. I had no clue she was going to show up today. And it’s not like I could send her away.”
I sigh softly. “No. Of course not. But she told me she’s staying until I have the baby. I know she’s your mother, but—”
Dom cuts me off with a quick kiss on my lips. “It won’t be four months.”
“It might be. Now that your father is gone, there’s no reason for your mother to go back home.”
Dom kisses me again. “I don’t want you worrying about my mother.” And this time, his tongue slips into my mouth. The kiss is harder, and I can’t help moaning against Dominic’s lips.
He lowers one of the bags, slips his hand under my skirt and trails his fingers up my thigh to my thong. He strokes my clit through the lacy fabric, moaning as he does.
Just as my body begins to feel aroused, I break the kiss and step backward, then swat him playfully. “And that’s the other thing—with your mother around, we won’t have any privacy. And you know how much we like our privacy.”
“That’s why we have to sneak in time where we can get it. Mmm … you’re already wet. I love how horny you are now that you’re pregnant.”
He gives me a long, heated look, and I know he’s considering screwing me right here in the garage.
The idea actually turns me on.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“No?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No!” My voice is an urgent whisper. And when Dom lowers the second grocery bag, I add, “Your mother is on the other side of that door!”
“She won’t come out here.”
“You’re crazy.”
Dom smiles. “Crazy for you.”
He advances, snakes a hand around my wrist. His other hand goes back beneath my skirt, and within seconds, is teasing my pussy.
“Why, Dom?” I ask, but the question comes out as a breathy moan, one that only encourages him.
“Because you’re fucking hot,” he whispers into my ear as a finger slips inside my pussy.
“Good Lord … “ I grip his shoulders.
He slips another digit inside me, pleasing me with hard, fast strokes. Suddenly, I don’t care if Dom’s mother opens the door and enters the garage. I want Dom right now.
“Here?” I manage to say weakly. “Or … the car …?”
“Is the SUV unlocked?” Dom asks as he kisses my neck.
“Yes … “ He pushes a third finger inside me. “Oh, yes … “
After torturing me for a few more seconds, Dom pulls his hand from my pussy and steps back. His grin is victorious. “Come on.”
I shoot a glance at the garage door as he takes my hand and leads me to the Cadillac Escalade. Thankfully, it has dark-tinted windows, so if Mama Deanna decides to come into the garage, she won’t be able to see anything.
As I start to climb into the backseat, Dom pushes my skirt up around my waist. Makes sense … less time maneuvering in the backseat.
He playfully swats my ass, and then he gets in next to me. Instantly, his hands go to my shirt, yanking the cotton fabric upward until it is over my breasts. He wastes no time lowering his head to one breast, gently biting my nipple through the lace.
“Damn you, Dom,” I say—a weak protest that he has me in this compromising position when his mother is all too close by.
“Maybe you’ll like this better.” He pushes the lace out of the way and draws my hardened nipple into his mouth.
I grip his head and try to keep the cry of ecstasy locked in my throat. My breasts are far more sensitive now that I’m pregnant, and sucking on my nipples is a sure way to turn me on.
His tongue flicks up and down over my nipple, driving me crazy. And then he grazes it with his teeth before suckling me with fervor.
I’m wet. My pussy is throbbing. I need to have him inside me.
“Fuck me, baby,” I beg. “Now!”
It takes a bit of maneuvering, but soon, one of my legs is stretched into the front-seat area, while the other is perched high against the backseat. Dom makes quick work of unbuttoning his jeans and dragging them far enough down his hips. I reach for his cock, hold it as he lowers himself onto me. And then I guide it into my opening.
“Fuck, Dom,” I utter as he fills me. “Oh, God.” I’d always