Page 39 of Break

“Come on, let’s set all of this in one of the empty rooms. We can separate it all and figure out the gift cards once we start shopping.”

Alyssa and Caroline grab all of the bags and goodies, skipping down the hall to the bedrooms. I relax back into the couch and stare up at the sleek white ceiling.

My phone buzzes along the coffee table, I grunt as I bend forward to grab it. It’s getting too hard to maneuver around this massive belly.

James:Thanks for letting me stop by… Let me take you shopping when I get back? The girls will have a blast and I can even set up all of the furniture.

Me:I’ll think about it.

He replies again but I set my phone down. Why is he acting so normal, as if nothing happened? I know that he’s never had a problem with kids, he loves them actually. Maybe I’m terrified because they’rehisand he has no idea… and when he does find out I know he’s going to run. Probably to another country. Or another planet.

I miss him so much that it physically hurts.

I miss his touches and cuddles, even if they were platonic to him.

I still have his naked body forever burned into my mind and it’s those images that keep me… going late at night. Good thing I just ordered myself one of those massage wands. Nothing else will fit around this big belly for me to play with myself with.

The girls and I go to sleep shortly after they set everything in one of the empty bedrooms, and I toss and turn for a while. I’m going crazy not being able to have sex.

It would probably be bad if I begged Nolan or Landon to scratch the itch, wouldn’t it?

First of all, we were never official for a reason. I don’t think any real feelings were actually involved, at least on my end. And they never said otherwise.

And second of all, we’re all close friends now. Our flings were just that, flings. I was busy with school or work, they were busy being rock stars on the ice. I was lonely, they were horndogs.

It worked out.

If only Brenton was straight. Then again, he’s my doctor and his parents are like surrogate parents to me now. That would just be awkward.

I remember when he told me that he bats for the other team. I had no idea what the hell he was talking about, I’m not into baseball, I really only know football and hockey.

Mostly hockey.

We were out at dinner one night, about a week after the first dinner at his parents’ house, and he casually dropped that nonsense on me.

We had a good laugh once I figured it out. Not sure why he told me in the first place. Maybe he just wanted a friend? One that he knew wouldn’t judge him.

So that’s what we’ve been since, great friends. Well. A friend that looks and checks my vagina on a weekly basis.

His parents also drop by at least twice a week to have dinner with the girls and me, and he shows up randomly with some sort of chocolate and a sparkling juice for us to share. The girls absolutely love him.

Again… if only he was straight. He is magnificent and so kind, so handsome.

I sigh as I roll towards my nightstand and grab my massager from the drawer. I've been putting this poor thing through the ringer lately. I check that the batteries are still working and turn it on low, rolling back onto my back and spreading my legs.

I’m wearing one of James’s old t-shirts that I’ve had since his college days, and a pair of old, flimsy underwear. Totally sexy. I slide them down my hips to my feet, accidentally kicking them off the bed.

I bite down on my lip as I slip the vibrating head through my plump, swollen wet lips and circle my entrance to lube up the end.

I slip it back up to my sensitive clit, arching my aching back as my legs already begin to shake.

This is going to be the fastest I’ve orgasmed, ever.

I press my left palm over my mouth as I roll my hips and pelvis up against the vibrating head, pressing the button to put it on a higher, faster setting.

“Fuck.” I grunt and shudder as the orgasm rolls through my body. My body relaxes, and I feel like I’m on top of the world. I feel myself dripping and I grunt as I close my legs to not let anything get on my clean sheets.

My eyes grow hooded as I turn off the massager, slowly sitting up so that I can wash it before shoving it back in my drawer in its home. A few weeks ago, I fell asleep with it in my bed. It scared the shit out of me the next morning when my alarm went off. I ended up rolling over on top of it, turning it on and it vibrated against my hip. I thought my bed was possessed.

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