Having Nathan's Baby (11 page)

“Arthur Black?” I forgot my misery for a moment and laughed genuinely this time. “What do you mean, anyway?” My tone lowered to mimic his. “-‘old-fashioned New York names’?”

“Everyone I know in the last couple of years around
here has named their kid some terrible turn-of-the-century name,” he responded. A dark smile warmed his features. “Edgar, or Franklin, or Edmond.” He shook his head. “Edmond Calhoun. I mean, that sounds like a prohibition gangster.”

“It’s a lot better that Harper Pearl,”
I countered, referring to a recently named celebrity baby. “Or Willow. Every second baby born in L.A. in the last decade has been called Willow or Harper or Violet. I don’t see how that’s any different from Edmond or Franklin.” I sparked off his growing amusement. “Violet Calhoun: you see? It’s a match made in heaven.”

“No son of mine will be called Violet.”

I laughed aloud again, reveling in the sensation.

Watching me carefully for a moment, he said,
“Do you really want your surname on the birth certificate, as part of his name?”

I
stalled. Humor settling, I thought about his question as carefully as he’d asked it. The truth was, I wanted my son to have something from my side of the family, but I had no appetite to fight Nathan over this right now. There’d been enough fighting over this baby for one lifetime. I suspected he felt the same way. Part of me surmised that maybe he’d brought it up now because he was willing to concede on this point, perhaps by way of a peace offering.

So
I considered it carefully. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. “Maybe his middle name. We don’t have to do the double-barreled thing.”

It was his turn to consider this. “Sure, we could
do that.”

“Maybe we
should think about first names. Then we can hear what it sounds like, all together.”

Nathan nodded again. “Okay,
” he said.

Lord, he was being accommodating!
I frowned at his even expression. After the crazy scene earlier today, on top of the equally crazy scene the last time we’d met, this acquiescence was suspicious.

His arm was resting across the back of the sofa. He leaned forward slowly, and it required no extra effort for his hand to touch
my face. His thumb grazed my cheek. “I’m sorry about earlier, Chloe. I feel like a complete bastard for making you ill.”

I
shrugged my shoulders. There was a cascade of delicious sensation tearing down my body at his touch, and the movement helped assuage it to some degree. “You didn’t, I was just hungry.” I felt a slight tension in my lungs, as though I’d been running.

“I promised I’d take care of you. Support you. Both.” His expression was truly repentant now. “I haven’t been doing a very good job of that.”

I swallowed. No, he’d been on the other side of the planet, probably with another woman in tow to keep him company. Not that I needed him to take care of me. The sensation of that hand, though ... it was dissolving the very last vestige of resistance I had in my tired body.

I said,
“Don’t worry about it, Nathan-”

“If you needed something, would you tell me?”
he cut in.

I
focused on him. It required a massive effort to hide the sudden longing his touch was evoking. I was melting with it. My eyes took in his features in a helpless tour; the dark lashes over his downturned eyes; the firm lips that I so loved the taste of; the way his dark hair glinted in the fading light. He was working his jaw with tension, his gaze following where his thumb was still gently stroking my skin. He looked good enough to take a bite out of. I’d never wanted to move into his arms more than I did right now. It felt like it would be easy, as though gravity was dragging my in that direction anyway. I was literally migrating towards him. His upper body was moving towards me, too, wasn’t it? His face seemed suddenly very close, close enough to touch.

I
’d regretted denying myself more than once before. I loved him; surely it wasn’t wrong to want to show him that, to share that with him? Sure, we weren’t in a relationship, but we were having a baby. The depth of intimacy in his eyes, the fierce possessiveness, was mesmerizing.

I
felt his cool breath fanning my heated skin. “Would you?”

The question came at
me randomly; I’d forgotten what he’d asked me in the first place. I frowned, wishing he’d just kiss me. Maybe I should kiss him, bury the topic of conversation, whatever it was. We’d covered most of the points on the list and we weren’t getting anywhere with the rest, not today.

I
wanted him. I was tired of denying it. My body was literally aching all over with desire. My muscles were sore, my breasts heavy and tender. I desperately wanted his hands on me, easing out the pain and replacing it with the sweet ache of searing pleasure instead. I touched his thigh tentatively. “Would I what?”

He smiled. His breath eased across
my skin. He was close enough to kiss me now without breaking his stride at all. He was also clearly amused, and intrigued, by my sudden change in mood. “Would you ask me if you needed something?” he persisted, though his tone was lower now.

“Yes.”
I responded without hesitation. We both knew what I needed by this stage.

His smile deepened. “And?”

I grazed his lips with my mouth, stabbed by a dagger of bliss when his tongue slid inside.

Chapter Eight

The kiss deepened slowly and lingeringly. His fingers laced through the hair at the nape of my neck, inadvertently dragging against the loosely held bun. Each jagged tug of my hair follicles sent a shot of tingling arousal down through my body. I was intoxicated by his scent. I moaned and dragged my hands along his firm thighs, kneading the muscles there, edging closer towards the part of his body I so desperately wanted inside of me again. It had been too long. I leaned into him, falling slightly to one side so that I rested against his lap. He took my weight easily, his hand travelling up the length of my legs, trailing under my dress and pausing when they discovered the lacy edges of my stockings. A guttural noise emanated from the back of his throat, like a stifled groan.

I
sat up, letting my body rest on his lap. My mouth moved against his, tasting, dipping into the sweet recesses of his mouth with my tongue. I held his face in my hands; the coarse edge of his stubble tickled my fingers, at odds with the silken smoothness of his hair. I allowed his hands free rein to explore further, past the lace and towards the rounded softness of my bottom. His fingers slipped under my panties, stroking and kneading, pulling me into him. I felt the strain of his erection at the junction of my thighs, and like a switch had been flicked, arousal pooled in my lower body.

“Is it safe?”

His words, uttered against my lips, gave me pause. I took a moment to assimilate them. “For the baby?” I swallowed. “Yes. As long as we’re not too...” A smile gripped me.

He returned it. “Too rough?”

Just the mere mention of it heightened the sensations I was already feeling. The idea of him throwing me across the back of the sofa and thrusting into me, taking me without a care ... I felt my breasts tighten, aching. It was too easy to imagine because it had been real on so many occasions before; the muscles between my legs responded by clenching in an acute spasm.

“Oh, God...” His head dipped, falling to
my shoulder. “I felt that.”

I
moved against him, closing my eyes to fully experience the sensation of his arousal pulsing against me. My whole body leapt to life again. I leaned down, catching his mouth with mine and threading my fingers through his thick hair. Further down my hands explored, across his wide, corded shoulders and back, pressing against the tight muscles. I slid my hands around his waist and pulled impatiently at the hem of his t-shirt. Yanking it up, I luxuriated in the ease with which my fingers where able to explore his bare torso. The fabric glided easily up his sides.

“Lift your arms,”
I ordered in a hoarse voice. Thrilled when he did what he was told, I eased the warm fabric over his head with a dark smile. Static charged between us. His upper body was naked and I let myself just drink in the sight of him as he lowered his arms. My fingers traced down the flat surfaces, fascinated by the mixture of smooth and rough, the hair tickling against my palms. I stroked his arms, his chest, and then further down to where an arrow of hair led beneath the waistband of his jeans. I met his gaze, wetting my now dry lips with my tongue and splaying my fingers. They inadvertently grazed the tip of his erection.

The guttural curse emanated from him again and his body doubled as if in pain. “Are you trying to make me come before we even get to the sex?” Only a dark smile betrayed his pleasure. He lifted
me off him and came to his feet quickly.

I
felt my hair sliding out of the bun finally and pulled the clip out. As my hair settled, I took in the sight of his erection pressed impatiently against his jeans, tantalizingly close to my face. My eyes were wide with anticipation as I looked up to catch his gaze. He looked so hungry, so utterly intent on having me, that the breath just evaporated from my lungs.

“Let’s g
o upstairs,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I need a bed for this.”

I
didn’t care how I looked, how this looked. I wanted him with an intensity that I just couldn’t hide. The raw honesty of it seared me like molten iron branding my soul. I took his hand and let him guide me to my feet. He had to hold my arms behind my back to stop me from reaching for him again.

“Just wait an
other thirty seconds,” he said. He still sounded raw with need. One hand released me so that he could trail a thumb against my swollen lips. His eyes were pure jet black. “Let me get you naked on that bed and then you can do whatever the hell you want to me.”

Longing pooled in
me again. I wondered if I could even walk. I let him lead the way, suddenly unsure of where we were going. We made it up to the first floor. I felt his eyes on every sway of my hips on the way up. Before we could even reach one of the rooms, he was on me again. It was as though his control snapped. He pressed me against the wall. His body crushed me, his hips grating against my lower body. Then, just as suddenly, he broke away, a look of something close to anguish in his expression.

“The baby...”

I was still trying to work out where I was. Blinking at him in the near darkness, I clasped my hand across my stomach. “It’s okay. I’m okay-”

“I keep forgetting-”

“Nathan,” I said, breathless, “I’ll let you know if anything hurts me.”

“No.” He stepp
ed back. “We shouldn’t do this,” he said. “This can’t be good-”

I
grabbed at his arms to prevent him from stepping back any further. Absolute determination gripped me. I felt as though I could have lifted a car if it had been required, anything to stop him from moving away. “Nathan, it’s fine. Honestly, it’s fine. I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t-”

“But a
re you sure?” he said firmly. “Did you speak to the doctor about this?”

“Nathan.”
My tone was reassuring. I clasped his hand and guided him towards the second set of stairs. Suddenly I remembered that I had no idea where I was going. “Where’s your bedroom?”

He laughed. “It’s on the second floor.”

Still he refused to be moved. I yanked at his arm as though it were a lever. Coming to a standstill, I glared at him with an inverted frown. “Are you going to make me beg?”

“Would you?”
he asked.

I
shook my head, in desperation more than disagreement.  That was a question I didn’t want to ponder. “Just – don’t test me,” I said. I turned to platitudes. “It’s only one more floor. We can talk about this there-”

He moved forward only fractionally. His hand stroked
my hair back, grazing my cheek and then holding my head in place. When his lips touched mine gently, I felt the tight coil inside of me relax somewhat. “You think we can go upstairs to my bedroom and have a rational discussion?” he asked, his voice toying with my frustration.

I
swayed towards him. My hands glided around the bare skin at his waist. This felt so, so good. It would be … well, torture to stop now. I needed this. I needed him inside of me, possessing me.

“You don’t really want to have a discussion at all, do you?”
he said finally, though he was still smiling.

I
kissed him, lingering, and my hands smoothed down the back of his jeans possessively. I tried to communicate everything I was feeling with my eyes. “No.”

His voice was a rasp. “I think I’m too turned on not to do this.”

A spark of celebratory relief lit in me. “Then show me where your room is,” I said, my voice a whisper.

He kissed
me again, moving us blindly towards the stairs. Somehow we made it up another floor, through a doorway, and then I felt my legs jutting against a hard object.

The bed.
I glanced around, picking up shapes and textures here and there in the fading light of dusk. All I was really interested in was the bed, and I turned, bending over in front of him to stroke the cool, cotton covers in delight. It was massive, and empty, and undisturbed, and we had all night. My mind quivered in anticipation of the pleasure I was about to experience. Guaranteed pleasure, because for all our issues, Nathan had never let me down on that score.

I
felt him holding my hips from behind, pressing into me. “You’re really not playing fair now,” he said.

I
turned my head to the side and eased into the position. It was exciting to make out his pained expression in the shadows. His face was all hard planes, arcs and glimmer. His chest looked like it was made of bronze. I closed my eyes for a moment and let my head drop. He was so hard. I could feel he was fully aroused. My body was moistening in response, desperate to welcome him inside of me. I inhaled a deep, relaxed breath as his hands made a slow journey from my hips, circling my waist and then further up. He caught the zip at the back of my dress and eased it down.

I
straightened. The dress slid from my shoulders and fell in a heap at my feet. Underneath I was wearing a plain black silk bra and panties. Nathan looked down at my body. His expression was hard, predatory now. The light-heartedness had passed, engulfed in the fiery desire in his eyes. His hands smoothed down my arms, agitating the nerve-endings with each centimeter of progress. He stopped at my waist and idled there for a moment. I felt his hand move across my swollen stomach.

I
was attacked by an unfamiliar rash of self-consciousness, something I never usually felt with him. “It’s not very sexy, is it?” I said.

“It’s...” His voice trailed off. He met
my gaze. “I don’t know what it is,” he said. “It’s amazing. Beautiful.”

I
looked down. My hand was hesitant as it covered his. Then his fingers were under my chin and he was angling my face towards him. He kissed me again. His lips were so gentle I barely felt them at first. I was aware of a heavenly brush of skin against skin, and then a very slight, drawing pressure. Had there even been one iota of doubt or hesitation in me, it was melted away under this hypnotic seduction. I had to clasp his arms just to stay upright. My head spun and I felt myself being pulled down into a level of sensation, of emotion, that I’d never experienced before. It was like a limitless well of ... love. I felt like I was literally floating in it. I was sure that if I opened my eyes I would see myself suspended, meters from the floor, weightless.

Nathan chose that moment to lift
me. He pushed his knees under me, forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist once they were off the floor. I felt him kneel on the bed. Again I was aware of his pressing arousal, this time through the sheer fabric of my panties. My answering arousal kicked up a notch. I groaned against his mouth and pressed myself into him. Then I felt the bed against my back.

The
sheets were cool and soft. When he lifted himself above me, I moaned in complaint. Cold air filled the space between our bodies. He cast an avaricious glance down the length of my body as it writhed beneath him. Impatient now, I reached for the waistband of his jeans. I’d been waiting too long for this. I needed him naked, hard and wanting. I had to feel his control break. I wanted him inside of me before anything else could happen to stop us.

My
hands brushed his erection as I slid his jeans from his hips. This time he suffered my touch without even a flinch. His focus was as rigid as his body. He pulled off the rest of his clothes and tossed them aside. Then, with exquisite care, his head lowered. He pressed light kisses, torturously slow, across my tender cleavage. I felt the brush of his hair against my jaw, tickling and scented with warm shampoo. His mouth lingered at the soft, very sensitive flesh where my breasts spilled from the strained material of my bra. I felt his hand trailing a slow path down my side, sliding up my back, and then slipping the catch. Once he felt it release, he lifted his head again. He looked devilishly pleased with himself, so much so that I couldn’t help but smile as he slid the straps off my shoulder. He was rewarded with the sight of my full, sensitive breasts appearing from under the silk.

“These are
... new,” he said.

I
laughed lightly. I stroked his head, in turn fascinated by his fascination for my changing body.

He lingered for a while on
my breasts as though he were enjoying a feast. I suffered under torturous nipping, sucking and teasing, until I was literally groaning. “Nathan...” I pulled his head up and held his face in my hands for a moment. “I need you inside me,” I said. I let go of him to start easing my panties off, but his hand snaked out and stopped them.

“No... no, you don’t.”

I wanted to groan aloud. “I can’t wait any longer,” I said. I arched my back, pressing myself against his erection. “Don’t tell me you’re not ready-”

“
There are a million little things I’ve been imagining doing to you for the last few months, Chloe, ever since you laid down the no-sex rule.” His smile was malicious. “You brought this on yourself.”

I
was shocked for a moment, but the arousal was quickly overriding everything else I was capable of, including reasoning.

“This isn’t the last time
we’re going to have sex tonight,” he said, his voice low with promise. He eased his body down mine, holding himself with strong arms at either side of me. Kneeling, he reached for my panties. “But I still want to enjoy it like it might be.”