Page 110 of The Coach

My phone buzzes almost immediately.

Jackson: Jesus fucking Christ, Ivy. You’re so sexy.

Jackson: Those perfect tits… damn, they’re gonna swell as the baby grows, aren’t they?

My breath hitches. A slow heat spreads through me. I shift against the sheets, squeezing my thighs together.

Me: You like that?

Jackson: I fucking love that.

Jackson: I’d bury my face between them every damn morning if I could.

A shiver rolls down my spine. My fingers hover over the keyboard, but before I can even think of a reply, he sends another message.

Jackson: You’re already so goddamn beautiful, Ivy. But fuck, knowing you’re carrying my baby? That you’re gonna be even fuller, even softer? I can’t fucking handle it.

My pulse pounds. My skin feels hot all over.

Me: That turn you on?

Jackson: You have no idea.

Me: Tell me.

There’s a pause. Then?—

Jackson: I’m picturing you naked right now. In my bed, stretched out for me. Your tits full, your belly round. So goddamn gorgeous, all soft and needy for me.

My breath catches.

Me: I’d be so needy. So desperate for you.

Jackson: Yeah?

Me: Mhm.

Jackson: Would you let me take care of you?

Me: Yes.

Jackson: Good girl.

A whimper slips from my lips. My fingers are shaking again as I type.

Me: What else would you do to me?

Jackson: You really wanna know?

Me: Tell me.

Jackson: I’d strip you down so slow, baby. Kiss every inch of you. Worship you. Feel our baby kicking under my hand, worshipping those tits while I fuck you so deep you’ll never want me to stop.

My whole body shudders as I finger my clit. I can’t even think straight.

Me: Jackson…

Jackson: You close again, baby?

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