Vignette: The right kind of...
Bailey tugged at the waistband of the tiny pair of shorts again, trying to make the button meet its corresponding hole on the opposite side. Almost there, one rounded half poking through the slot and then with no further give to it, the fabric yanked it back away again.
Argh!! The cry of frustration spilled out of her lips. Next she tried lying flat on her back, feet up against the headboard of her bunk and sucked her belly in for all she was worth. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre the button crept its way toward the buttonhole until eventually, when the brunette was going almost blue in the face for holding her breath in, it co-operated and slipped neatly home.
Letting the breath of air out in a relived whoosh and quickly pulling in another cleansing one, she flung her arms out to her sides and stared up at the ceiling, disgruntled. She’d never minded being curvier than her more long and lean female counterparts. Men seemed to like it, and as a result, she revelled in the attention. Her figure hadn’t failed her yet in using it to her advantage. But, it was starting to become evident that there was definitely a drawback to carrying those pleasing curves of hip, breast and thigh - her belly. Or more accurately, the life within it. Where those taller or of a more athletic build may have gotten away with it for a bit longer, she was clearly not going to be able to. Not without some clever wardrobe tricks.
Muttering a curse for her foul luck, Bailey tried to sit up and found the movement hampered by the shorts that now had her in an iron grip of near immobility from hip to thigh top. Rolling over onto her front she slid her knees down onto the floor, put her hands to the edge of the bunk and then stiff-legged, pushed up onto her feet that way.
A smug smile of triumph etched across her mouth as she peered down at herself and then dropped into a look of horror when the wooden button, unable to endure the strain put upon it, shot off and ricocheted against the headboard just missing the bronze firelizard draped across its top.
“Oh for fuck sake!” this carried through on a wail of despair. “Not now. Not yet!” She still had so many things to set in place before her condition became evident to all and sundry and this…well this was going to severely cramp her style.
Stripping off the shorts and banishing them to a corner of her cabin with disgust, pale eyes dropped back down to the smooth skin of her belly with a small frown. The bump forming there was barely visible to her so the chances were good she still had another few sevens before anyone else noticed. She could only hope so.
Fingers traced cautiously over her lower abdomen in curiosity and then her palm flattened against it in a protective gesture, her gaze lifting and going unbidden to where the Orchid Rain lay unseen at anchor beyond her sloop. Bailey’s expression pulled into a pensive line, she’d have to tell him, and soon. She owed him that much. Trouble was she was still uncertain where she stood with the big dark-skinned man. Found him hard to read at times, wary of confessions made by him. Especially when he dropped into a sulk for no apparent reason a few heartbeats later like he’d done the day his ship had sailed back in and dropped anchor.
Wry the curve her mouth followed next when her own words of an ‘allegiance’ spoken to Vaughan came to mind. Toying with him had amused the hell out of her. Now he was exactly the kind of wrong that she would have gotten herself deeply into trouble with if not for…if not for -him-. The one that confused, delighted and infuriated her all at the same time.
Low self-deprecating laughter spilled out next as her thoughts lingered on Candlario. Oh he was trouble alright. Trouble she had a problem staying away from. The slow burgeoning of her belly bearing testament to that. Beyond what she’d pried from the reluctant Fremond he was still a mystery to her, and yet, and yet she kept going back for more. Call it curiosity, call it lust, call it a leaving of her senses entirely, it made no difference, he already had her under some kind of thrall.
In the end, there was wrong, and then, there was the right kind of wrong.
Argh!! The cry of frustration spilled out of her lips. Next she tried lying flat on her back, feet up against the headboard of her bunk and sucked her belly in for all she was worth. Slowly, millimetre by millimetre the button crept its way toward the buttonhole until eventually, when the brunette was going almost blue in the face for holding her breath in, it co-operated and slipped neatly home.
Letting the breath of air out in a relived whoosh and quickly pulling in another cleansing one, she flung her arms out to her sides and stared up at the ceiling, disgruntled. She’d never minded being curvier than her more long and lean female counterparts. Men seemed to like it, and as a result, she revelled in the attention. Her figure hadn’t failed her yet in using it to her advantage. But, it was starting to become evident that there was definitely a drawback to carrying those pleasing curves of hip, breast and thigh - her belly. Or more accurately, the life within it. Where those taller or of a more athletic build may have gotten away with it for a bit longer, she was clearly not going to be able to. Not without some clever wardrobe tricks.
Muttering a curse for her foul luck, Bailey tried to sit up and found the movement hampered by the shorts that now had her in an iron grip of near immobility from hip to thigh top. Rolling over onto her front she slid her knees down onto the floor, put her hands to the edge of the bunk and then stiff-legged, pushed up onto her feet that way.
A smug smile of triumph etched across her mouth as she peered down at herself and then dropped into a look of horror when the wooden button, unable to endure the strain put upon it, shot off and ricocheted against the headboard just missing the bronze firelizard draped across its top.
“Oh for fuck sake!” this carried through on a wail of despair. “Not now. Not yet!” She still had so many things to set in place before her condition became evident to all and sundry and this…well this was going to severely cramp her style.
Stripping off the shorts and banishing them to a corner of her cabin with disgust, pale eyes dropped back down to the smooth skin of her belly with a small frown. The bump forming there was barely visible to her so the chances were good she still had another few sevens before anyone else noticed. She could only hope so.
Fingers traced cautiously over her lower abdomen in curiosity and then her palm flattened against it in a protective gesture, her gaze lifting and going unbidden to where the Orchid Rain lay unseen at anchor beyond her sloop. Bailey’s expression pulled into a pensive line, she’d have to tell him, and soon. She owed him that much. Trouble was she was still uncertain where she stood with the big dark-skinned man. Found him hard to read at times, wary of confessions made by him. Especially when he dropped into a sulk for no apparent reason a few heartbeats later like he’d done the day his ship had sailed back in and dropped anchor.
Wry the curve her mouth followed next when her own words of an ‘allegiance’ spoken to Vaughan came to mind. Toying with him had amused the hell out of her. Now he was exactly the kind of wrong that she would have gotten herself deeply into trouble with if not for…if not for -him-. The one that confused, delighted and infuriated her all at the same time.
Low self-deprecating laughter spilled out next as her thoughts lingered on Candlario. Oh he was trouble alright. Trouble she had a problem staying away from. The slow burgeoning of her belly bearing testament to that. Beyond what she’d pried from the reluctant Fremond he was still a mystery to her, and yet, and yet she kept going back for more. Call it curiosity, call it lust, call it a leaving of her senses entirely, it made no difference, he already had her under some kind of thrall.
In the end, there was wrong, and then, there was the right kind of wrong.