“I’ll stay in the car.”
“I thought you were going to stay in the car,” I say as I run after him.
“You said that this was a women-only swim class.” He points to the three dads that are carrying their babies into the gym.
“I may have fudged a little.”
“Well, you aren’t going to hang around with a bunch of dad bods by yourself.”
“I’m not interested in any of those guys.”
“Better not be.”
“Or else what?”
“Or else you won’t be able to come back because I’ll have beat up all the other men in an effort to prove to you I’m a suitable mate.”
“That’s not how it’s done anymore.”
“Then you better come inside and keep me in check.” He flashes those stupid dimples at me and waves me forward.
He doesn’t even let me take Anna into the locker room with me, insisting that if he doesn’t have the baby the other dads will ostracize him. I could’ve made a scene but felt that I didn’t need that kind of attention.
Instead, I change into my pre-pregnancy two piece. As I look in the mirror, I realize for the first time the breastfeeding has made my boobs way too big for the top. I’m spilling out scandalously.
I try to tug the fabric over, but it does no good.
“Don’t worry,” says a mother two sinks over. “We’re all a little top heavy these days. At least we won’t drown.” She pats her own substantial chest with more confidence than I feel.
I wish I had remembered the state of my bathing attire before I told Jack about this trip to the pool. There’s nothing I can do about it. I wrap a towel around my body and leave the locker room.
Jack’s already in the water, holding Anna against his chest. As I suspected would be the case, every mother in here has her eyes glued to his body. I want to take my towel off and throw it over his head. Why did he have to be so hot?
He rotates in a slow circle as Anna screams with happiness. What a flirt. The women at my side sigh with pleasure. This is annoying. I drop the towel, slide in and wade over—my big knockers preceding me by what feels like a foot.
“Hey there.” He greets me with a smile. “Anna really loves…” He trails off and frowns. “Where’s your swimsuit?”
“I’m wearing it,” I say, reaching for my daughter.
“You’ve got a couple of pink Band-Aids on your chest, but I don’t think that they are considered a swimsuit in any of the fifty states.” He looks over my head. “Fuck. It looks like I’m going to have to go fight five guys and maybe”—he squints—“a couple women, too.”
“For what?”
“For looking at you like they want to peel your Band-Aids off with their teeth. That’s my job.”
“What about you!” I retort. “The women on the side of the pool are eating you up with their eyes. You could have worn a T-shirt, you know. Did you have to flaunt your pecs?”
“I’m flaunting?” He jabs a thumb toward his chest. “You’re the one with—you know, I think we should both leave.” He grabs my arm and starts toward the pool stairs.
“Why are we leaving?” I hiss. The other parents are starting to point in our direction.
“If we don’t leave, I’m going to get a boner in the pool from staring at your juicy body. And then, because I’m horny as fuck and can’t think because all the blood will be in my dick, I’ll start fighting because I can’t hammer my dick inside your tight pussy.”
My mouth is open but no sounds are coming out. We reach the side of the pool before I come to my senses.
“No. This is for Anna, not for us.”
Jack throws me an unhappy look. “That’s dirty.”
“It’s parenting.” I wade back to the class.
He follows, but he isn’t happy. Five minutes in and I realize I made a huge mistake. Even though Anna’s between us, giggling and cooing, and there are twenty other parents in the water, I barely have anything on and neither does Jack.
The water laps between my legs. My already sensitive nipples harden as the cold air blows across them. Jack notices. How can he not? I’m practically flashing him. His brown eyes darken until they’re almost black.
“We’re going to do some horizontal moves today,” announces the instructor. “If you have a partner, hold him or her up while the baby floats on your tummy. Single moms and dads, grab a pool noodle.”
When I don’t immediately get in position, Jack lays a large hand around my waist.
“Go ’head,” Jack says. “I’ll hold you.”
Good Lord, that’s what I’m afraid of. But I don’t have any alternative. I lie back in his capable hands. He dips and brings me out of the water, his biceps flexing. My entire body tenses as it remembers how it felt to hang on to those biceps while Jack was using every ounce of strength to drive into me.