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We lock eyes, caught in a moment of deep connection, until Randy has to focus back on the road. It’s still surreal to me that I’m here with Randy Thorn like this. But it’s undeniable—we’re officially a couple.
“How do you feel, you know, being pregnant?” he asks, breaking into my thoughts.
Caught up in the joy of being with him and the electric connection between us, I’d almost forgotten about our impending parenthood. “Fine,” I reply in a high-pitched, optimistic voice.
“It must’ve been hard for you to believe I was with someone else,” he continues.
“Very,” I admit, letting go of the past discomfort that plagued me before Randy’s bold declaration of commitment and love.
He asks how often I see the doctor, and I fill him in about my visits with Dr. Haskell, my yoga routine, and the careful diet I’ve been following lately. He’s pleased to hear I’m taking care of myself and expresses his eagerness to start taking care of me together. That statement makes me want to jump his bones even more.
Thank goodness he turns into the long driveway. The house is striking with its gorgeous brick and barn-red craftsman style, but it also looks like the perfect home to raise a family. Out of patience and eager to get things heated, we head directly into the house. Once inside, I feel like I’m walking on air as Randy takes my hand and ceremoniously leads me to the master bedroom.
This space is so him. The neutral grays and greens create a calm and sophisticated atmosphere. His bed is king-sized, and the frame and backboard are made of light sheet wood. His taste is minimalistic.
So quickly, we strip out of our clothes until we’re standing naked on a plush, off-white, faux fur area rug, facing each other. He’s so hot, and I’m so eager to touch him that I spread my hands against his sculpted chest.
“Hey, you,” Randy whispers throatily.
The anticipation of what’s to come is making me dizzy. My “Hey” comes out throaty too.
Randy moves a wayward lock of hair from my forehead. “There,” he says. “Now I can see you better.”
My body tingles with longing as our front sides finally make skin-on-skin contact. But Randy keeps gazing into my eyes, restraining himself for some reason. He has never made me wait like this before he makes the fiery first move. I want him to take me already. To encourage him, I lift my heels so that I’m standing on my tiptoes. I stop just before our lips touch and wait for him to take the bait.
And he does.
Within a split second, our passions carry forward like a locomotive leaving the station, picking up speed. I grab him by the back of the head and bring his mouth closer to mine. Breathing heavily, Randy pulls back as if unaware he has stopped. Eyes revealing intense lust, he only studies me for a second before pulling my hair downward. His hooded gaze feasts on the skin of my exposed neck. I moan with need before his mouth and tongue devour my throat, tasting me thoroughly. And then we erupt in flames of passion as we tumble onto the bed, kissing, petting, pushing. Finally, I open up, and he enters me. Raising my hips to meet his, we make love like our lives depend on it.
* * *
Many Hours Later
It’s early the next morning. Throughout the night, Randy’s tongue managed to taste and stimulate every inch of my body, and mine did the same for him. Even though he was worn out from the competition, Randy impressively made love to me so many times that my body still feels limp, worn out from the exercise of hot, passionate sex.
As I fully open my eyes, I’m greeted by a window framed with drawn curtains. The tall, healthy trees surrounding the property filter the morning sun rising in the east, casting a comfortable light that fills the room. This soothing ambiance makes me snuggle deeper into Randy, who is gently snoring beside me. Yielding to the peaceful moment, I allow myself to drift back into sleep.
* * *
“Umm…” Randy’s moan travels deep in my ear canal, and then I feel his lips on the back of my shoulder. Then his manhood thrusts against me and inside me. We’re off for another round of lovemaking.
* * *
Many More Hours Later
Randy and I are laughing uncontrollably, the sound echoing around us. I revel in the feeling of his body shaking with laughter against mine. It strikes me that this is the first time I’ve truly heard him laugh. Until now, our interactions have always been so serious. I’m really enjoying discovering this lighter, more joyful side of Randy. It feels like we’ve always had the potential to be just as we are now—relaxed and genuine with each other.
“You were brutal,” he reminisces, referring to a dinner party we attended over a year ago.
It was Naomi’s and Derek’s post-engagement announcement dinner, a playful event Naomi coined simply to capture the joy of planning gatherings with friends alongside the man she intended to marry one day.
I told her she was off her rocker, naturally. But that’s Naomi for you. She swings from one extreme to the other—from being very pragmatic and practical to embracing the carefree and adventurous. That’s just her way, and I love it.
I had no idea Naomi would invite Randy. She had run the guest list by me multiple times before that night, and Randy’s name was never mentioned. So you can imagine my shock when I arrived and saw him sitting at the table with the nine of us—close friends of Derek’s and shared friends of Naomi and me.
In my surprise, I pulled Naomi aside and grilled her about his unexpected presence. We were alone in the kitchen when I demanded an explanation.
“Because he’s a cool addition to any dinner party, Gina,” she casually said.
