2 comments/ 7675 views/ 4 favorites Into the Garden Ch. 22-24 By: carlieplum Author's Note: Belinda Sutter, pampered daughter of wealthy Southerners, fell in love with Sam Greene, a young biracial man, while he was working at her family's home the summer before her senior year of college and his final year before completing his M.B.A. The couple are now married and expecting their first child. Sam's biracial parents are warm and accepting, and while Sam has won Belinda's father's respect, the rest of her family remains horrified at her interracial relationship. As an FYI, Sam doesn't have a monster cock and Belinda doesn't turn into a complete moron the first time she has sex with a black guy. If that's your thing, enjoy, but this isn't the story for you. As always, I love comments and feedback. CHAPTER 22 Belinda had encouraged Sam to go home for Christmas, planning to join him in Chicago before New Year's. She just couldn't face a family holiday when she wasn't welcome in her own home. Her dad had sent her a $5,000 gift certificate to Babies R Us, trying in his own way to make up for the situation, but it didn't stop the hurt of being banned from her own home because she had married a black man. Sam said he'd rather spend the holiday with her, and besides, they had their 20-week ultrasound on the 23rd, and flying on Christmas Eve would be a nightmare. They'd spend a week around New Year's with his family. Belinda clutched his hand tightly as they walked into the ultrasound lab. Dr. Davidson had assured them at their last prenatal visit that the blood work looked perfect, her belly was measuring exactly as it should and the baby's heartbeat sounded fantastic, but part of her was still nervous. She just wanted the baby to be healthy. After a few minutes in the waiting room, a medical tech called her name and led her to an exam room, telling her to undress except for her underpants and get up on the table, giving her a paper robe to cover herself with. Belinda left the robe open in the front as instructed and sat on the exam table. "That's pretty hot lingerie," Sam teased, pointing to the paper robe. "Think we can get an extra one to take home?" "Very funny," Belinda answered. "Now are we agreed we aren't finding out the gender?" "Agreed," Sam said as the door opened. Sam caught the look on the ultrasound tech's face as she greeted him, hoping Belinda wouldn't notice the look of scorn that flashed across her face. "Before you start, we don't want to know if it's a boy or a girl," Belinda said. The tech didn't even acknowledge her, just pushed Belinda's paper robe aside roughly and squeezed a thick clear gel on her belly. She began rubbing the ultrasound wand across Belinda's belly. She stopped suddenly, and asked rudely, "Why do you still have your underpants on? They're in my way." "The assistant told me to leave them on," Belinda explained, "but I can take them right away." "I'm sure you can," the tech said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe if you had kept them on before you wouldn't be in this mess." In an instant, Sam was between Belinda and the tech. "Get out," he hissed, his voice low and angry. "Sir, I'm trying to do my job. If you don't move, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she sputtered. "Get away from my wife. Get out of this room. And go get your boss. I'll be calling my lawyer while you're gone." The tech stood her ground for a moment, then backed down, leaving the room and slamming the door behind her. Sam quickly called his mother, a successful doctor in Chicago for advice, quickly explaining what had happened as he rubbed Belinda's arm. He could tell she was on the verge of tears. Belinda had never heard Colleen utter anything but a friendly word, but even with the phone to Sam's ear she could hear her mother's stream of curse words, interspersed with terms like "professionalism," "unacceptable" and "fired." Sam had told her his mother's Irish temper flared up from time to time, but this was the first she had ever heard of it, and she was glad she wasn't on the receiving end. A doctor entered, while they were talking, the tech trailing behind him. Still on the phone, Sam bluffed: "Of course, the usual retainer rate. I'll call you about filing the paperwork if we can't come to an acceptable solution." He clicked the phone shut. The doctor shook Sam's hand. "It seems there's been some misunderstanding, Mr. and Mrs. Green. Marcie," he said, waving his hand toward the tech, "would like to apologize if she said anything that could have been misconstrued as unkind." "There was no misunderstanding," Sam told the doctor, "How else could you understand her statement?" he asked, repeating Marcie's words back to the doctor verbatim. The doctor cringed slightly. "What can we do to make this visit go more smoothly?" the doctor asked, skirting the issue. "For starters, you can get her," Sam pointed at Marcie, "out of here. We're not interested in hearing some sorry apology she wouldn't even mean." The doctor nodded and the tech left the room, closing the door quietly this time. "Mr. and Mrs. Greene, I do sincerely apologize," the doctor said as the door clicked shut. "Marcie's behavior was regrettable and it will be dealt with. Our best ultrasound tech is working today, and she's just finishing up with another mother right now. I'll send her in as soon as she's free. Now, here's my card. If you have any further problems, you or your lawyer," he cringed again as he said the last word, "can be in touch with me directly. I'll have one of the medical technicians bring you a snack while you are waiting." "Thank you," Belinda finally spoke up. "We appreciate your assistance. We really don't mean to be a bother." "No bother at all, Mrs. Greene," he answered as he left the room. "Jesus, Belinda, why do you have to be so nice all the time?" Sam snapped at her, annoyance in his voice. "Honey catches more flies than vinegar," Belinda answered. "You made your point loud and clear. But in the end, the nicer you are, the meaner it makes the other person look. And don't take out your anger on me." "I see your point," he answered. "But . . ." "It's over. You handled it beautifully. The lawyer bluff was priceless. Now, we're about to see our baby. Please can't we just enjoy it without letting some ignoramus ruin it." The rest of the visit went smoothly, and Sam and Belinda left the hospital holding picture after picture of their baby, which the second ultrasound tech had assured them looked 100 percent healthy. Back at the apartment, the pictures were quickly scanned and emailed to the Greene family, to John Sutter and to a handful of friends. Sam and Belinda settled into the couch to continue their ongoing arguments about baby names and whether Christmas presents were supposed to be opened Christmas Eve or Christmas morning. The name discussion was still not settled, but they compromised by Belinda opening her gift Christmas Eve, while Sam would open his on Christmas morning. On Christmas Eve, the two went to a late service and came home to dinner of a big dish of Sam's Nana's mac and cheese. No cravings for pickles and ice cream had come up, but Nana's mac and cheese was something else entirely. After dinner, Sam brought Belinda her present from next to their little tree to where she sat, her feet curled up under her on the sofa. Sam hoped she liked it. He had done a little detective work to find just the right thing, checking her Web history to see which sites she was shopping on. On one of her favorites sites, he found the perfect gift. Belinda unwrapped the package, revealing a beautiful nightgown. "It reminded me of Pi Phi pajamas," he explained. "If it hadn't been for the little nightgown you were wearing that night in your parents' kitchen, we might not be together now. And look," he said, leaning over and showing her the small snaps on each side, "the top opens up for when you are nursing the baby." "Oh, honey, I love it," Belinda gushed. "I'm going to put it on now. Wait here and I'll come out and model it." Belinda emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, her eyes shining. She had put her hair up in a bun, which she knew Sam loved. The soft cream-colored nightgown cupped her breasts, with a line of wine-colored lace running just under her bust and the fabric falling just to her knees. "Lindy, you take my breath away." "Why don't you come in the bedroom and return the favor?" she replied seductively. Sam didn't need an engraved invitation. He met her in the bedroom door, his tongue exploring her mouth as he walked her backward toward their bed. Belinda's arms wrapped around him and he felt her breasts press against him, her nipples rock hard beneath the new nightgown. He pulled off his shirt, wanting to feel her pressed against him, then sat on the edge of the bed, pulling her between his legs. Sam buried his face between her luscious breasts as he kissed her soft skin. "Let me see how these snaps work," he said, his voice husky with lust. He lifted them up and pulled the material down. Belinda's full breasts were open and exposed to him, each one framed like a picture by the fabric of the nightgown. He moaned, lifting his hands to cup each one, then rolling the nipples between his fingers before moving his lips to her chest and tasting the soft sweetness of her skin. Belinda's eyes were closed as he licked over the nipple, covering it entirely with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth. He cupped her ass in his hands. With the combination of the pregnancy and her craving for homemade mac and cheese, her ass was filling out. "Damn, Belinda, just when I thought I couldn't love your ass any more, I love your ass more. You might want to start wearing your engagement ring all the time. I want the brothers to see you are taken before they get too close." He kept his hands on her ass, returning his mouth to her full, round breasts. He sucked on a nipple again, squeezing it lightly between his teeth. "Harder. You can do it harder," he heard Belinda moan. He obliged her, scraping his teeth across her tender flesh and moving his hand to her other breast to squeeze it tightly, twisting and pulling on the areola. Reluctantly, he let go of her ass and moved his hands underneath the nightgown and between her legs, finding her bare and open to him. He moved the side of his thumb across her clit before sliding a finger deep inside her, the pressure forcing a long moan from his beautiful bride. She was so wet. He slid a second finger in and began moving in and out of her rhythmically, fucking her swollen, wet pussy with his hand. Belinda mewed with frustration as he moved his hand away, opening her eyes to see where the hand that was giving her so much pleasure had gone. Sam was looking up at her as he moved his fingers, slick and shiny with her juices to her breasts, rubbing them across her nipples before he licked the taste off of her, keeping his eyes locked on hers as he did. Belinda felt more wetness flood her crotch as she watched the erotic sight. She wanted him, wanted his hard, brown cock deep inside her, but Sam was determined to make the encounter last. He stood up, removing Belinda's nightgown and then his own t-shirt and pajama pants. "Get up on the bed, Lindy. I want you on your hands and knees," he commanded. Belinda did as he asked, resting her head on the pillow with her ass high in the air. Sam thought he might come from the sight alone. He lay down on his back and, grasping Belinda's hips, pulled her toward him so she was astride his face. He look a long look as her cunt, loving how the inner and outer lips were both swollen, matching the swelling of Belinda's clit, which peeked out from below its hood. Leaving her wanting, he kissed her thighs, nipping them lightly with his teeth. He reached up and pinched her nipples again, using one hand to pull and twist them, his other hand holding her up to keep Belinda from grinding her crotch onto his face. Her frustrated mewing told him that's exactly what she wanted to do. He put his face close enough to her crotch that he knew she could feel his breath against her sex. "Tell me what you want, Belinda." He knew it was hard for her ask for what she wanted, but he needed to hear her say it. "Tell me want you want," he repeated as he pinched down hard on a nipple. "I want it all. I want you to lick me and fuck me. I need you. Please, Sam, please," she pleaded. He released his grip on her hips, pulling her down to his face as he speared her tongue up into her opening and began fucking her with his mouth, his face almost instantly soaked with her moisture. He snaked his tongue up to her clit and began flicking it and sucking it, filling her again with his two fingers. Now that she had given words to her desire, her inhibitions dropped and she encouraged him. "Yeah, baby," she moaned. "Fuck me like that, fuck me like that while you lick me. Oh, fuck, it's so good. It's so good." Sam continued his feast as he moved his fingers in and out of her, determined to keep her on the edge without letting her climax just yet. He moved his tongue away from her clit, biting the soft, white skin of her inner tight. When he returned to her clit, he pulled his fingers away, leaving her empty and wanting, but not for long. Sam put his hands back on Belinda's hips, guiding her off of his face until she was positioned just above his dark cock. He felt a vein throbbing along the length of it as he pulled her down to him, her wet channel sliding easily onto him. Then he held still. Belinda's chest was heaving, breathing hard as she waited for him to begin fucking her. And waited. She looked at him, knowing what he wanted, that wanted her to fuck him, not the other way around. She rocked on his cock, taking a minute to find her rhythm, before settling into a groove with a hard downstroke that ground her clit into Sam's muscled abs. Her mouth was open, eyes closed as she pounded herself against her husband's hard, brown cock, moaning wordlessly. Sam felt her wetness pooling at the base of his cock as she rode him, and he moistened his fingers again, rubbing them across the base of his cock, then reaching behind her. With one hand he grasped a soft ass cheek as he worked two of the fingers of his other hand into her tight hole. "Oh, fuck, yeah," Belinda exploded. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck," she said over and over, each "fuck" coming out as its own sentence as each individual downstroke simultaneously drove her clit against his body, his cock into her and his fingers inter her ass. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." The pitch of her voice was going higher as she got closer to her goal. Sam felt as if his body had all but disappeared, the nerves in his cock and the two fingers wedged firmly in his beautiful wife's tight, wet ass overriding all other signals to his brain. His balls were tightening as they prepared to unload themselves deep into Belinda's wet core. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm coming, fuck," Belinda screamed, and he felt her cunt grab him and hold him tight as the muscles in her ass did the same to his fingers. The orgasm that had been building moved up like a volcano, his seed like hot lava coming from his balls. He could feel it flow up his shaft before exploding out of him. Belinda rested on top of him for a few minutes as she regained her breath. Sam inhaled the scent of their lovemaking, almost high on the funky goodness of their unique perfume. He felt the slickness of their sweat and juices all over their bodies. Belinda rolled off of him, cuddling up to his side with her leg across his. "Merry Christmas," she whispered in his ear. CHAPTER 23 Christmas day brought its own surprises. Sam loved his gift, a black leather messenger bag. "Your dad told me he sees guys in the financial district carrying them instead of a briefcase," she explained. "And look inside, there's another present!" "Belinda," Sam chided her, "we agreed one present each." "Well, I didn't spend anything on it. And besides, it's really for both of us." Sam fished around in the bag and found a green envelope. Inside was a homemade gift certificate: Good for one blowjob. Belinda blushed as he read it out loud, but explained, "I know you love that, and we really haven't done it so much with the morning sickness. But that's past, so I thought it would be a nice gift." Sam leaned over and kissed her, his hand cupping a breast. "I love it. And it's the perfect size." Before he could redeem his certificate, Belinda's cell phone rang. "Hi Belinda, it's Dad. Your momma is going to call you in a bit. I know she hasn't been so understanding, but please give her a chance. I'll call you later to explain. Love you, bye." He hung up before she could get a word out. When Belinda repeated what her father had said, Sam felt his erection wilt like salad on a stovetop. "What could she possibly say, Belinda that would make how she's acted okay? You don't get to treat your own daughter like dirt and then act like nothing happened." "Dad said to give her a chance, Sam. I know she's difficult, but she's a product of her upbringing." "That's total crap, Lindy. You and Chip had the same upbringing and you aren't sending anybody links to the StormFront Web site and calling their husbands porch monkeys," Sam said angrily, slamming his drink down on the table. He'd missed Thanksgiving and now Christmas with his parents and wasn't in the mood to be forgiving with a family who had treated him, with the exception of his father, first like a piece of furniture and then like total garbage. "Your dad isn't like her either, she's a racist and a snob and she's got no excuse." "You're reading my email? What the hell, Sam?" "You left your computer open. I could see you were upset and you weren't talking about it, so yeah, I looked at your email. Maybe you should empty the Trash if you don't want people to see what you deleted." "Are you kidding me?" Belinda shouted. "You totally invade my privacy and now you're saying it's my fault?" "I'm saying, stop making excuses for your family. I'm willing to hear what your mom has to say, but I'm not going to roll on my back like a puppy if she offers me some kind of bone." "That's easy for you to say," Belinda retorted angrily. "You've got the perfect little family. So you can look down on my people. Yes, they are a pain in the ass, but they are the only family I've got." "What the hell are you talking about? I'm your family, Belinda. Our baby is your family. My parents have totally taken you into their hearts; they're your family. I get that you don't want to hold a grudge--your sorority sisters, that bitch at the ultrasound--but don't be such a doormat. Your mother. . ." "Shut up about my mother. Shut about how I'm supposed to act." Belinda yelled. "Just shut up. . ." She went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Sam stared at the closed door, not sure what to do next. "Merry fucking Christmas," he said to himself. He guessed their plans for a nice Christmas dinner at a restaurant were out the window. He could hear Belinda crying from behind the door but didn't have the strength to deal with it right now. Sam pulled a beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch to read a book. He couldn't hear Belinda crying in the bedroom anymore and he thought perhaps she had gone to sleep. He lost track of time, until his cell phone buzzed with a new text message. "R we still on 4 dinner?" "Yeah," he texted back. He didn't know whether to go in and check on her. They'd had their squabbles like any couple, but this was their first real shouting match, and the issues that led to it were far from resolved. It was easier just to sit on the couch and drink a beer. Just the thought of Susannah was enough to make Sam tired. Still, if they were going out to dinner, he needed to get cleaned up. . . Into the Garden Ch. 22-24 From the way she was acting, dressing and putting on her makeup as if it were any evening out, Sam guessed Belinda wasn't up for a big talk any more than he was. He changed into slacks and a dressy sweater then sat down to watch Belinda finish up, admiring the graceful way she did little things like putting in a dangling beaded earring or slipping on a pair of strappy silver sandals. They held hands as they left the apartment and walked down the hall to the elevator. They weren't exactly talking, Sam couldn't help but notice, but at least they weren't screaming. Belinda's purse buzzed as her cell-phone vibrated inside. She pulled it out and glanced at the screen. "Hi Momma, Merry Christmas! It's so good to hear your voice. . ." If Sam had had something to throw, he would have thrown it. He felt his anger building up inside him as Belinda chatted easily with her mother, acting as if their earlier conversation had never happened. "Listen Momma, can I call you tomorrow? Sam and I are just about to be seated for dinner and talking on a cell phone while people are trying to eat is just so common. Okay. Love you, Momma. I'll call you tomorrow. Merry Christmas!" Sam knew this was one of Belinda's ploys for getting along with her mother, mirroring back Susannah's thoughts on things like cellphone etiquette as if they were her own, but at this moment, he didn't care. It was enough that Belinda was putting him first, even if it cost her an opening with her family. He squeezed her hand tighter as they stepped into the elevator and pulled her close for a hug. Once they were actually at the restaurant and had been seated, Belinda said, "Oh, I forgot to tell you my news with all Christmas busyness! Lana, the owner of that interior design shop, called me back. She's going to hire me to work for her for the next few months. I'm going to get her shop's records in order and hopefully I learn some more about the design business." "That's great," Sam answered. "Is that going to be too much for you though? Dr. Davidson said you might get tired more in the last few months of the pregnancy." "Well, it's just part-time and I'm only taking one entry-level class. It's worth a shot and I'm excited about it," she answered. "Let's see how it goes then. You can always quit if you need to, right?" Sam felt a surge of protectiveness and leaned over to rub Belinda's tummy, which earned them a few looks from the other diners, some nice and some less so. "Right. If Dr. Davidson thinks it's too much or if I get worn down, I'll just cut back or quit," Belinda said, smiling at Sam. It was adorable how careful he was about her and the baby, she thought. "Anyway, I won't start until after we get back from Chicago, I'm so excited about our trip. I can't wait to see your family. Your mom says Sean has a new girlfriend, although it doesn't sound as if she likes her too much." "Well, I just hope she's black," Sam clowned. "I don't know if my family can handle the scandal of an interracial relationship." Belinda's laughter filled the room as she struggled to get herself under control. "Cut it out, Sam. Don't make me laugh like that. People are staring." "They are just looking to see the beautiful woman," Sam said, lifting Belinda's hand to his lips. "And don't ever stop laughing like that. It's one of my favorite things about you." CHAPTER 24 It felt good to be back in Chicago. With none of the "will-they-like-me" or "will I throw up all over the plane" jitters of her first trip to meet Sam's parents (Michael, his African-American banker father, and Colleen, his Irish mother), Belinda was free to enjoy the bustling energy of the city and the warmth of Sam's family, although the wind was chilly, even though she was bundled up in her new parka and snow boots. She still wasn't sure how she was going to adjust to the Midwest after they finished school and Sam started his management training job. Equally chilly was Sean's girlfriend's Janice's reception as she looked Belinda up and down critically. "Let's just say she's probably doesn't want to me my new BFF," Belinda told Sam when he asked how the meeting had gone. Sam and his dad had been out scouting neighborhoods the newlyweds might live in when Janice had stopped by. "Back up, back up," said Sam's dad Michael as he tried to catch up on the conversation Belinda and his wife Colleen had been having when they walked in. "Belinda, your mother is organizing a scholarship campaign for underprivileged African-American boys?" He clutched his chest and staggered around the room, shouting dramatically, "You hear that Elizabeth? I'm coming to join you honey!" Belinda didn't get the reference, but Colleen and Sam had seen this act before and burst out laughing. "I'm sorry, Belinda. Old television show. But seriously, this is kind of a turnaround from her banning you from your house when she found out about you marrying a black man," Michael continued. "I know, I know. But you have to know my momma. I didn't understand it either until I heard the whole story from my dad. Apparently when they went to church on Christmas Day, the pastor of our church, Pastor Riggins, made a big to-do when he shook my parents' hands on their way out. He had heard about the talks Sam gave at the different churches over the summer, encouraging young black men to go to college or get some trade education to expand their prospects and setting up mentors for them. So he started praising Momma to the stars, going on about how 'so many people still raise their children with backwards ideas about race' and how proud she must be to have such a 'broad-minded daughter.' Then he told the people behind her in line that 'Mrs. Sutter's lovely son had made such a fine impression on his colleagues on the Ecumenical Council' and that if any of her Junior League ladies wanted to support Sam's efforts to provide mentoring and help fund education for local boys, the Methodist Ladies Auxiliary would be sure to work with them. You have to understand, getting on the Ladies Auxiliary is about as likely as being struck by lightning. You have to be old money, related to church founders, the whole thing. Even then you have to be voted in and they only add new members when an old one dies or retires. Very exclusive, dahhhling," this last phrase, Belinda said with her best faux British accent while deliberately sticking her nose in the air. "There's no way Susannah Sutter is turning a chance like that down, especially since she gets to lord it over her 'narrow-minded friends who are stuck in the past.' I don't know what got into Pastor Riggin, but I don't much care. Her motives may be mixed, but it's better than nothing. And she's sweet as pie to Sam now. . ." Sam made a face. He still wasn't thrilled about the recent developments, but he was trying to make his peace with the situation. Still, he couldn't get a dig in. "Yeah, too bad your mother's superior parenting techniques didn't rub off on your brother," he said snidely. Belinda stuck out her tongue at him, being careful that his parents didn't see. Her brother Chip was a sore subject, but she wasn't going to get into a fight with Sam in front of his family. She wasn't raised to air her dirty linen in public. "Anyway, tell me more about the New Year's Eve Party we're going to tonight," Belinda asked her father, changing the subject. "My firm throws one every year for the employees and the clients. It's at a fancy downtown hotel called The Drake. Some of the clients get pretty loaded, but employees are limited to two drinks, so you won't be the only one having sparkling cider. It's over at 10 p.m. so people can join other parties, so we'll have you home before you turn into a pumpkin," Michael explained. "I'm starting to feel like I look like a pumpkin," Belinda said, rubbing her baby bump. "It's a good thing I didn't get an orange dress to wear. But I think I'm going to go rest up a bit before it's time to go. The new bed you got for our room is so comfortable, Colleen," she added, remembering how she and Sam had made love on the floor the first time they had visited because the rickety old bed squeaked so much. Sam woke her from her nap with kisses. "Wake up sleepyhead. It's time to get ready for the party. I already showered so the bathroom is all yours." Belinda wrapped herself in a fluffy robe, grabbed her dress bag and makeup bag and padded barefoot down the hall to the guest bath. She liked it when her husband watched her get ready to go out at home, but she wouldn't feel comfortable with him sitting in the bathroom in hers house. It would be nice to surprise him with her transformation for a change, she thought. After a relaxing shower, she put on her makeup, applying dramatic dark eye shadow that made her green eyes even more arresting and curling her honey-brown hair, letting it hang loose to her shoulders. She slipped on the new dress she'd bought just for the party, feeling a little worried she would look conspicuous. The dress had come in royal blue and black, but Sam had convinced her that for a New Year's party, red wasn't too over the top. Southern belles didn't typically wear read, she'd tried to explain, but Sam had convinced her. The dress had elbow-length sleeves and came to just above her knees. With a deep scoop neck that was alluring without being too revealing, the soft fabric was draped to accentuate her growing bosom and belly. A flash of metallic sparkle on one hip gave it a festive holiday feel. Belinda slipped on a pair of black patent kitten-heel shoes and put the diamond studs she'd gotten for her 18th birthday in her ears. They were too big for every day, but perfect for special occasions. She finished off the look with a rich red lipstick with a matte finish that gave her an elegant appearance. Sam stood up as she walked into the living room, remembering the first time he saw her, bouncing down the hill of her parent's estate where he'd worked for a summer as a landscaper and handyman before starting the final year of his M.B.A. At six feet tall, he towered over her 5'4" frame, and they were a study in contrasts in other ways, his chocolaty-brown skin so much darker than her pale white hue as they laced their hands together. Only their eyes were the same, a striking green hue both had inherited from their respective mothers. "You look stunning, Lindy. I don't think I'll ever get tired of looking at you." She wrinkled her freckled nose at him and laughed. "You'll get tired of me when I'm big as a house with this baby. You'll be saying, 'Belinda, put on some more clothes. You're scaring the neighbors,'" she said, voicing a very real fear in the form of a joke. "I doubt it. I worried about that actually, but the baby has just made you sexier. I love the changes to your body," he said quietly, spinning her around and hugging her so he could cup her breasts in his hands. They had grown from a B cup and were now threatening to spill out of the new C cup bras she had bought early in the pregnancy. "Stop it, Sam," she said, pushing his hands away. "Your parents or Sean could come in any minute." "Well, they'll be going out to late-night parties after we come home, so I'll have my way with you later," he murmured, nibbling on her earlobe and kissing her neck lightly. "Promises, promises," she replied, her voice husky as his lips began to warm her up, but before they could continue, Michael and Colleen came into the room, with Sam's mother calling for his brother Sean to get his coat on and join them because their cabs would be there in a moment. Sean stepped out of his room, a younger version of his brother, the two of them dressed in elegant grey suits and white shirts, collars open at the neck. Belinda looked back and forth between the two of them. Sean was handsome enough, but he wasn't as muscled as her husband--he hadn't done the work to earn it like Sam had--and his skin didn't have the same hue Sam's did. Belinda had never seen another person with Sam's exact color, almost the color of her favorite Belgian chocolates, but slightly lighter and with a warm glow that seemed to come from under the skin. She felt her nipples tighten as an image of how his naked body looked pressed up against her came suddenly to her mind. "Everybody got their coats and gloves? It's cold out," Colleen was hustling everyone out the door in her efficient fashion. "Mom, we're not kids. Give it a rest," sighed Sean. Outside the building where the Green's lived in their tony two-story penthouse, two cabs pulled up just as the family exited. "Sam, why don't you ride with your parents? I'll go with Sean," Belinda said, leaving both brothers looking surprised. "Your face looks like mine used to look before family dinners at our country club," Belinda observed to Sean once they were settled in the cab, "like you'd prefer a lit cigar up your nose or a poke in the eye with a sharp stick." Despite himself, Sean laughed. "How long do you have to stay before you can meet up with Janice?" "Probably an hour. Any less than that and Dad will be pissed," he answered. "What do you guys have planned?" Belinda inquired. "Don't look so scared, Sean. Your pregnant sister isn't going to crash your party. I'll be lucky to stay awake until 10." "We're just going to a club. To dance. You could go if you wanted," he said, the last part less than sincerely, but finding himself liking Belinda more than he had in the past. "Oh please, Sean. Do I look like I'd fit in a dance club? You're sweet, but it is home to bed with my boring, married self. I have no dance moves in me, unless it's a slow dance or a ballroom dance." "Seriously? Like the fox trot and all that?" "Seriously. You have to learn to do ballroom dancing to be debutante. And that, sir, is not an option when you are Miss Belinda Sutter of Mississippi." "I could probably teach you a few things," Sean offered. "I mean, for some other time." "I doubt it. Sam and his friend Rick tried to help me learn to dance. They almost broke a few bones from laughing so hard. I missed the coolness gene. It's hopeless. I'm doomed." Belinda put her the back of her hand to her forehead in a dramatic pose, throwing herself back against the seat of the cab, for emphasis. "Okay, okay, I'll take your word for it," Sean answered, smiling. "But if I ever need to do the merengue, I'm coming to you." "Deal." The cabs pulled up in front of The Drake. Sam opened the door for Belinda. "Oh, Sam, I was just telling Sean I was going to show off dance moves you and Rick taught me tonight." Sam had been worried about the cab ride; Sean had a chip on his shoulder about being biracial at times and hadn't been exactly thrilled by Sam marrying a white woman. But now he doubled over in laughter, slapping his leg to try to stop himself. "Please, no. We'll be banned from this hotel for life. I love you, honey, but please, for the sake of my family's good name, don't do it." "All right, since you asked so nicely. But now you have to buy me all the sparkling cider I want for the tremendous insult I have just suffered," Belinda said with mock anger. "Can do, baby. It's an open bar," her husband answered, taking her arm as he led her into the grand hotel. The ballroom was elegantly decorated, and waiters and waitresses hurried around with trays of delicious appetizers. A live band played covers of classic soul and R&B—Sam Cooke, Otis Redding, Ray Charles and the like. People with money all had the same sort of parties, Belinda reflected, North or South, there were only slight differences. Michael proudly introduced his son and his daughter to colleagues and clients before Sam swept Belinda off for a slow dance. "You know, that was really cool of you to ride over with my brother. It seems like you finally broke the ice with him. I know I get on your case for being too nice, but I really appreciate that you made the effort. I know he hasn't been so welcoming," Sam said. "Thank you, but let's not talk about it right now. I really don't want to get into family issues. Just dance with me," Belinda said, laying her head on Sam's shoulder as the band played Ray Charles' classic, "Baby It's Cold Outside." Sam couldn't help himself; he felt his cock grow hard as Belinda's belly and breasts rubbed up against him. His hands slid across the softly silky material of her sexy red dress and her alluring scent--she didn't wear perfume and yet she always smelled so good--were all conspiring against him to make him feel like a horny high-school boy. "Should we make our way home then?" Belinda purred in his ear. "I'm regretting not booking a room in the hotel, but there's no way they've got one vacant on New Year's Eve. Let's go home, Lindy. I think I'm ready to redeem that Christmas gift certificate. . . "