I've got you {Laurinah}

8. Spiraling

A door slammed shut, and Lauren jumped, nearly tumbling off of the bed. She rubbed her eyes, then opened them sleepily, looking beside her to confirm that it was in fact Dinah, not a robber, who was making so much noise. Sure enough, her wife was gone.

"Shit," the wife in question hissed from somewhere outside the bedroom, and Lauren groaned, pushing off the covers.

"Dinaaaah," Lauren whined loudly. "What are you doing? I need sleep."

"Sorry, mama," Dinah called, her footsteps coming down the hallway. "It was an accident."

"Well stop making accidents and come back," she groaned. "The baby won't sleep if you're not here, and if the baby doesn't sleep, than I don't either."

"Lo, the baby hasn't even kicked yet," Dinah said, laughing. "I'm sure it's sleeping most of the time."

"No, it's not," Lauren argued, pouting at the empty space in the bed next to her. "It's awake, I can tell. It doesn't like it when you're not holding me."

"I'm pretty sure that's just you, babe."

Heaving a sigh, Lauren squirmed a little, then flipped dramatically onto her back, resting a hand on the gentle swell of her belly over her shirt.

"When the little monster is old enough to talk and asks why Mama looks so tired all the time, I'm blaming you, Dinah Jane," Lauren said. "You don't snuggle me for nearly long enough, and I can't sleep right without you."

"Baby, stop that," Dinah said, her voice closer now, exasperated and affectionate. "I hold you all night, and we cuddle so much that we put Normally to shame, which is saying something."

Lauren made a hmph noise, ready to fight back, and propped herself up on her elbows tiredly to see Dinah standing in the hallway, wearing skin tight leggings and a sports bra, a gym bag in one hand and a jacket in the other.

"Oh," Lauren said, a soft exhale of air, her eyes widening. "You're going to -"

"The gym, yeah," Dinah interrupted her, leaning against the doorframe and blowing a strand of her short hair out of her face.

The curves of her thighs in the black leggings, pressed together tightly as she crossed her ankles, made Lauren's mouth dry. She swallowed, her tongue poking out to wet her lips.

"Was there a problem with me going?" Dinah asked, and Lauren could hear the smile in her voice.

Her gaze traveled up to Dinah's hip, then up above the waistband of the leggings, to the soft caramel skin that spilled over the top, her abs already taut underneath the pouch of fat on her tummy.

"Now there definitely is," Lauren rasped, tugging her lower lip between her teeth.

"That sucks," Dinah said, shrugging. "Because I'm going anyway, whether you want me to or not."

Dinah always bought the sports bras with the cups, declaring that working out didn't mean she had to have a 'man chest'. She insisted the cups held her better anyway, but with the way she was leaning sideways now, she was quite literally spilling out, one boob falling against the other. They looked so soft.

Lauren blinked, and then snorted quietly at herself. They were soft, soft and perfect and so touchable. Lauren found herself blanking on how soft, exactly, and decided she wanted to refresh her memory.

"I don't think you should go," Lauren murmured, shaking her head.

"No?"

"Nope," Lauren said, sitting up with a soft pant and crawling towards the edge of the bed, keeping her eyes on Dinah. "I think you should come back over here and keep me company."