One Night Standards

“Get up, woman.” I toss one of the many throw pillows from the floor at her still-sleeping form. “We have to be at Rhett’s in an hour.”

The lump in the bed shifts, accompanied by a groan. She rips the sheet away from her face and hits me with a pathetic pout. “We could just treat ourselves to another room…”

“Li’l Bit, you’re out of control!” I shake my head, laughing. “We’ve already christened most of the downstairs and we moved in two days ago.”

“So?” She sits up, letting the fabric slink to her waist, exposing two tantalizing mounds of flesh, a move I guarantee was intentional.

“So,” I say, crawling in from the foot of the bed to motorboat those voluptuous tatas. “I never thought I’d say this”—I suck one of her nipples into my mouth, biting down gently before nipping at her chin and her nose—“But my dick might actually fall off if we don’t give him a little rest.”

“Fine.” She slinks out of my arms and off the bed, gloriously naked, her sex tousled hair is sticking out in every direction. I’m beginning to have regrets about turning her down as she makes her way to the bathroom.

“Fuck, my wife is hot.” I’m practically drooling as I ogle the sensual sway of her hips.

She glances down at her tummy and frowns. “Your wife looks like she has a beer gut.”

“Hottest little beer belly I ever did see.” I give my brows a waggle to emphasize the compliment.

Sure would be nice to know the gender of said belly. Stubborn little shit kept its legs closed all through the anatomy scan yesterday. At this rate it’ll be baby bean until it pops out. Hell, we’ll be so used to addressing it as such, might even make the birth certificate.

She gives her eyes an exaggerated roll. “Beer guts are not sexy,” she says, before shutting herself away in the bathroom.

“Maybe not,” I agree, getting up and stalking to the door to yell through it. “But your hot little body incubating our child is about the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

The door cracks open just enough for her head to fit through. “You’re the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” she says, kissing the tip of my nose. “Now go get ready so we can get our Halloween on.” She gives me a flirty little wink before shutting the door in my face.

This girl has no clue what she does to me.

For some reason, the rounder she gets the more obsessed with her body I become. And it’s not just some kinky pregnancy fetish—although I do fantasize about doing very kinky things to this woman. It’s an obsession specific to her. I’ve been around pregnant chicks in the past. Hot ones, too. They’ve never tempted me in the least. But Li’l Bit growing our child just does something to me at a primal level.

I dress in a pair of worn denim and the tee I purchased to compliment hers. It’s white, with Darth Vader’s face and the words “I am the father” screen-printed in black. More than this Halloween party, more than trick or treat with my favorite kiddos—what I’m looking forward to most is seeing our picture blasted across headlines in the morning.

“You sure about this?” Sammi asks, coming out of the bathroom in her Yoda shirt that says “Pregnant, I am.”

“One hundred percent.” I wave her over to where I’ve just assembled the tripod for our first photo op of the night. “Nothing like using statement tees to…well, make a statement.”

“Have I told you lately that I love you?” She gazes up at me, her vibrant blue eyes sparkling with mirth.

“So many times I’ve lost count,” I tease, kissing her cheek so I don’t smear her makeup. “But I’ll never tire of hearing it.”

“Wait…Is this Anika approved?” There’s a hint of terror in her voice.

“I’m not about to start running my wardrobe by my manager.”

“Oh jeez.”

“It’ll be fine.” I tug her to my side. “Big cheesy grins first,” I say, pointing to where I need her to look. Using the remote in my hand I snap a few of those. Then we move on to her hands on the belly, and my fingers pointed at the wording on my shirt. We make silly faces and kissy faces and then it really is time to go.

Sammi’s still a bundle of nerves as we make our way to the golf cart and head out. “What exactly are you doing with these pictures?”

“Check out my Insta,” I say, chuckling.

She whips her phone out of her purse rushing to the ap. “Oh, Lyle…” Sammi brings a hand to her head, appearing to get a headache. “We better not get in trouble for this.”

“Trust me?” I help her down from the cart when we arrive at Rhett and Korie’s place.

“About everything else?” She nods. “Sure, but when it comes to CEO Barbie? Not a chance.”

“Speak of the she-devil,” I croon as Annie comes traipsing down the drive in what looks to be a cave woman costume.

“Hey Cuz!” Li’l Bit is doing way too much, waving that girl over like they’re best friends.

“What is wrong with the two of you?” Anika shakes her head, laughing. That’s the first sign someone’s been doing us a favor and pumping the girl with happy juice.

“How long ya got?” I ask, leaning in to give her a one-armed hug.

“Not long enough.”

When she greets my wife with a bear hug, I know the girl is feeling no pain. “You two are just lucky the comments are blowing up the right way.” Her pointed finger volleys between the two of us.

“So…you aren’t mad?” Sammi gnaws on her thumbnail.

“Nooo,” she slurs, waving the thought away. “Pshhh. I don’t get mad at everything. Just, you know, the stuff that has the potential to ruin lives. And everyone already knows you’re knocked up and it ain’t his but, like, it really is.”

Li’l Bit looks at me, wide-eyed, and all I can do is shrug.

“There you are, Jane!” Aiden comes sprinting over from the backyard wearing a damn loin cloth.

Sammi nods, piecing their costumes together. “Tarzan and Jane.”

“Hey guys.” My near-nude friend balks at our attire. “It’s fucking Halloween. The slut, slut, sluttiest time of the year. You two couldn’t find something sexier than jeans and T-shirts?”

“Well,” Li’l Bit says, laughing. “We’re going trick or treating with children, and I’m kinda knocked up.”

“Excuses.” He tosses his long hair in that annoying way he does. “You can’t even tell you’re pregnant yet, and I’ve seen plenty of slutty pregnant chicks.”

“Knock it off,” I warn when Rhett and Korie round the corner dressed up like Mario and Yoshi, toting Hadley along as Princess Peach.

Right behind them, Nick, Raven, and the twins make their appearance as Fred, Wilma, Bam-Bam, and Pebbles.

I give Nick a nod, trying not to laugh. “Nice dress.”

“It’s a caveman kilt.” The glare that accompanies his bullshit prevents me from ragging him any further.

“Cute shirts.” Korie sticks her thumb in the air, giving my wife and I her seal of approval. “Nothing like a not-so-subtle middle finger to the paps. I approve this message.”

While Li’l Bit chats with the women, I squat down to say hello to my pint-sized besties. “I’m diggin’ the bone in your hair, Ava.”

“Thank you, Uncle Lyle,” the almost four-year-old sings. “And I love the scary man on your shirt.”

“Thanks, princess.”

“I can see Uncle Aiden’s booty,” she whispers, loud enough for her father to hear, who shoots the resident dumbass a scathing look.

“Yeah.” I nod, glancing over and cringing at the back of his costume, which is little more than butt floss. “Don’t get too close in case he farts.”

She shrieks. “Ewww!”

“I’m serious. Have you ever heard of a shart?”

She shakes her little head.

“It’s when you shh—poop,” I correct when I feel Raven’s eyes lasering in on me. “When you poop and fart at the same time.”

“I thought that was diarrhea.” She crosses her little arms, calling bullshit.

I shake my head. “Diarrhea is runny. A shart is more like a poof of poop. Just like poop crumbs that accompany the fart.”

“Lyle!” Raven hip-checks me in the arm, causing me to fall back onto my butt. “That’s not appropriate.”

“Did you ever sharted before, Momma?” the little blonde asks, taking her mother’s hand.

I’m waiting with rapt fascination for Ray’s response when all hell breaks loose. There’s a loud “Bam! Bam!” followed by Aiden releasing a high-pitched scream.

I might’ve missed the action, but there’s no mistaking what just happened when I see Alex holding his club proudly to his chest and Aiden cupping his loin cloth to his junk.

“Alex!” Nick tries to reprimand his kid but can’t stop laughing. Everyone but Tarzan himself is in absolute hysterics.

When the laughter finally starts to wind down, I overhear my wife suggestively tell Anika she should take him inside and kiss his owie, and I fucking lose it all over again.

“Oh, God, no.” Anika couldn’t look more repulsed.

“Am I missing something?” Sammi glances around, clearly looking for someone to explain, but that would require one of us being able to catch our breath long enough to speak.

It’s Aiden who finally peels himself off the ground and cups a hand to my wife’s shoulder. “How do I say this eloquently?” He pinches his chin giving it some thought. “Annie here prefers the taste of Cristal.” He nods and winks.

And my wife’s face turns red as a tomato. “Really?” She looks at the two of them in their coordinating costumes. “But—Wow… Okay.” Her head shakes. “I just thought you two…”

“Just friends,” Anika offers, looking as if she’s chewing on vomit.

“A little more than friends,” Aiden counters, pinching his fingers together.

“He wishes.” Annie shrugs away when he tries to sling an arm over her shoulders.

“Aw, don’t be like that, Pixie. We don’t need to put a label on this fire that burns between us.”

“We’re friends,” she echoes her earlier sentiment. “And maybe not even that for long if you don’t cut this shit out.”

“Aren’t friends apposed to like each other?” Alex asks, reminding us all that there are children present.

“Yeah.” Aiden squats to his level, ready to confront his attacker. “They sure don’t club each other in the di—twigs and berries.”

The miniature version of Nick shrugs. “You can’t be mad, Uncle Aiden. It’s what my character does. BAM! BAM!”

“Hear that, Annie?” He rises back to his feet, pointing at Alex. “You can’t be mad when I grab you and lug you around under my arm.” He shrugs. “It’s what my character does.”

“How ‘bout we hop on some golf carts and take these kiddos huntin’ for some candy, huh?” Raven grabs each of the twins by the hand and heads for their cart.

Aiden throws his hands out when Nick and Rhett take off. “Who are we riding with?”

“Great,” Sammi groans. “Looks like we’re stuck with the bickering “not couple.”