Escalation Clause (38 page)

“Only way better looking,” Rob joined them with Gabe draped over his shoulder sound asleep. Lila smiled up at him and took the boy from his arms. He handed her a fresh glass of water then pulled a chair over next to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek. He grabbed Jack’s beer bottle and downed it.

“Hey, dude, there’s more and if not I know where we can get some.” Jack protested. “So, you’re out in LA this week, meeting an agent, opening a bank account where they can put all your money when you make it big?”

Rob laughed, and draped a hand around the back of Lila’s chair. His finger traced a line from her neck to her bare shoulder. She shifted Gabe to her other arm, surprised at how much her body as reacted to his light touch. She glanced over and met his deep brown gaze. He winked slowly, and then leaned in to her ear. “Wedding night time. Let’s blow this pop stand.” She leaned into him, shutting her eyes and thanking god she decided to say yes.

“Nope, I’m all set.” Rob stood. “Time to take my lovely bride to our hotel. Who’s got kid duty tonight?”

Sara raised her hand and finished her wine. “We do,” she pointed to Gabe. Jack grabbed the floppy tow-headed toddler from his mother’s lap. “We have him all week, with  Maddie. Go forth and have honeymoon time.”

“Let’s go little, Rob. Your nemesis awaits you over there in the portable crib.” Jack said, smiling at his friend.

The ride to their overnight hotel was short, but Lila sensed herself fading. It had been a long day, and she felt weighed down with the pregnancy already. Rob held her close. They were quiet all the way up to the suite. She stopped outside the door, suddenly frozen, a combination of sadness and pain gripping her chest. Rob tossed her bag inside. Their suitcases for the week-long west coast vacation were already in the room. He let her stand, running his hands down her bare arms.

She shivered and tried hard not to cry then decided not to fight it. She turned and buried her face in Rob’s chest. “Shh…my love,” he whispered, but his voice was hoarse, too. She looked up at him. “Oh, Lila, we won’t ever forget him. Stop trying.” He picked her up in one quick motion and carried her into the room. “It’s okay.” He kissed her, laying her back on the giant bed. And she let herself be loved, unconditionally, by her husband.

Rob held her, kissed her, soothed her, running his hands down the curves of her newly lush breasts, the sexy swell of her belly. She grabbed his hair, and kissed him back with an urgency he hadn’t felt from her in a while. “I need you,” she whispered, her voice breathy. She pushed him back on the bed, pulled his shirt off with no concern for the buttons that went all over the room. He smiled, let her take charge, loving the feel of her small hands all over him, fisting his cock.

“I’m all yours,” he said, lying back and tugging her face down to his as she straddled his hips. “Ah, yeah, baby that’s it.”

She shifted and took all of him into her, propping one hand on his torso and other on his thigh. Rocking slowly against him, gripping him tight, she never broke eye contact. He pulled her down, sucked one of her full nipples between his lips and tried not to come too fast. He’d been waiting for this moment a long time. And, although Blake had been on his mind all day, it wasn’t an unpleasant memory—not anymore. This was what he wanted. He released her nipple, licked his way up her neck and found her lips. “Come for me Lila. I need to feel you.”

She groaned and arched her back then pressed back down against him. He felt the clutch of her pre-orgasmic spasm, smelled her, tasted her and groaned when he joined her.

She slipped off him and nestled into the crook of his arm, their breathing slowing and their bodies cooling. “Damn,” he said. “Sorry.”

“For what?” She asked trailing her fingers along his chest.

“Knee-jerk ejaculation?” He groaned as his brain started to fuzz over with a familiar sleepiness.

“Hmph, I’m good.” She said. “For now.”

“Hardly grounds for divorce, I’d say.” She giggled and they both slid into a contented rest.

The jangle of his phone woke him. He sat up, confused about where he was. He grabbed it, noted it was already ten a.m., and that the call was from the west coast. He patted Lila’s hip. “Honey, hit the shower, we’ve got an hour before we need to go to the airport. Hello?” He climbed out of the bed and watched the lovely sway of his wife’s bare ass as she made her way into the bathroom and then had the surreal conversation with a woman who wanted to represent him for the Cooking Channel pitch. She had arranged all their travel, first class accommodations and top shelf itinerary full of amazing restaurants and studio tours. How the hell had he gotten here anyway? The phone beeped in his ear, indicating another call.

“Okay, Vicky, I’m gonna let you go. We’ll see you later today. Need to take another call.”

He clicked over. “Hey, I’m busy what the hell do you want?”

Jack chuckled in his ear. “Yeah, I would hope so. But, I have a little guy on my lap who is sort of unhappy and might benefit from hearing your voice.”

“Okay, put him on.”

He smiled at the sound of his son’s voice. Lila emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, pointing at the phone. He handed it over, smacked her ass then jumped in the shower. By the time he emerged, she sat, dressed, sipping tea. “He okay?” he asked, pointing to the phone.

“Yes, but I wish we had him with us, sort of.”

He tugged on jeans and a button down shirt and pulled his wet hair back into a ponytail at his neck. “I know.” He kissed her, and helped her to her feet. “But we need this break. It will be fine. And he will be, too.”

But, he nearly turned in the opposite direction from the freeway that would take them to the airport, because he wanted the little boy just as much as she did. Lila grabbed his hand and kissed it, then put it on her stomach. “You’re right; we’ll be drowning in diapers again soon enough. Let’s go, you food celebrity you. Onward to the adventure.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Jack walked in his front door and watched as Sara fiddled with the ends of her hair and finished her phone conversation. The boys had lived through their week together, Rob and Lila had returned and all seemed back to normal. The show wouldn’t start filming for a year, but the film crew would be all over Ann Arbor and The Local for the next few months getting tons of B-roll, whatever the hell that was.

He’d just dropped Katie and Maddie at the bus that would take them to soccer camp for a week and her parents had Brandis for the weekend. He wandered into the kitchen, grabbed a water bottle and drained it. Something was bugging him, and he wanted to keep the vow he’d made not to keep anything from her. She joined him grabbing his bottle and helping herself to it. “So, look at us. Empty nesters. Whatever shall we do with ourselves?” She smiled and stood in front of him, her body mere inches from his.

He held her close, kissed her, relieved all over again that she’d taken the initiative that weekend and forced his hand, made him open up to her. He licked his way down her neck, cupped her breast. “I love it when you’re all sweaty.” They’d been a little wary around each other since her miscarriage. And with the memorial coming on the heels of that, they hadn’t actually made love since then. He’d been afraid of hurting her, and she seemed to need her space, not only for her body to heal but her heart. He hadn’t minded that much, and they’d kept talking. But, he was starting to feel a familiar lack of sex edginess.

Every nerve went on alert instantly at her touch. She ran her hand over the bulge under his zipper, lifted his shirt up and off, licking and sucking at his skin.

“Ah, Jesus,” he exhaled as she lowered his zipper, and shoved his jeans down. She fisted his shaft, then got to her knees and licked the fluid he could feel on the tip. He spread his legs, fisted his hands in her hair and let her suck him until he sensed the orgasm just over the horizon. He grabbed her arms and pulled her up. “Enough appetizer. I want the main course now, please, and thank you, very much.”

He tugged her shorts down, lifted her tee shirt and sports bra up and off, using his fingers and lips to tease her nipples into lovely hard peaks. “Yes,” she hissed as he sucked one and pinched the other one. She lifted one leg, wrapped it around him and ground her clit into his thigh.

“You are a very bad girl,” he said, still pinching one nipple. Her eyes were bright, her color high and his cock got even harder at the sight.

“Yes, I am.” She arched into him. “Please….”

“Say it again.” He growled into her neck, biting and sucking at her salty flesh.

“I’m bad. So bad. Baby….” He stopped, leaned back and narrowed his eyes at her.

“Who?”

She gasped when he shoved his thigh harder between her legs, giving her the contact she wanted, keeping his grip on her nipple. She squirmed. “So bad…Sir,” she whispered. He shivered, leaned in to kiss her once, and then stepped away.

“And what am I supposed to do about it, this badness?” He turned her slowly so she faced the large kitchen island, running his hand down her sides, to her hips, ass and thighs then back up again. She leaned over it, spread her legs, presenting the sweet pink of her sex to his gaze.

“I need to be spanked, Sir.” She looked over her shoulder at him, wiggling her hips.

“Hmm,” he said, dragging his hand from her hair, down the arch of her back to her ass. “Maybe.” He dipped between her legs, felt her readiness. His cock jumped when he leaned over and put his wet fingers to her lips.

“Please,” she whispered, pressing back against him. But he had to say something first, needed to get it off his chest.

“Fine,” he said, reaching for the rubber spatula in the island drawer. “But first you need to know something.” He flicked his wrist, let the paddle redden her skin once, then twice. She moaned, and arched back more. “I never got the re-check on purpose; after the vasectomy. And, when I went back to do it, they told me I needed another snip. So, I left.”

She squealed when he whapped her again, then fisted her hair with his other hand and slowly eased her head back. “God,” she moaned. “More, Sir, please.”

He smiled, gave her another couple of smacks, then dropped the spatula and put his palm over the heat of her skin. “I wanted that baby, Sara. So, I say, if we are meant to have another, we will.” She moaned as he reached around her to touch her hardened clit. He pressed it, stroked it, as he used the rough tug of her hair he knew she liked. He was about to explode all over her back, and he could smell her, knew enough about her cycle and chemistry to know that right now, at this moment they were drawn together by more than love. It was primal and their bodies were dancing towards an inevitable connection—one he wanted more than he wanted to draw a breath.

He put his foot inside hers, shoved her legs farther apart and let the head of his cock tease her clit. He slipped in, then out, slowly, loving the grip of her, the tight fist of her pussy all around him. “Fuck me. Sir,” She ground out pressing back and taking him all the way into her. He groaned, grabbed her hip.

“You are very bad. Bossing me like that.”

“I know,” She had her hands on the island. “You really ought to do something about it.”

He smacked her ass with his palm, hard. She shuddered, and pulsed, coating him with her juice and grunting with the force of her orgasm. He did it again, then draped over her, cupping her breasts and shoving into her. “Dear God,” he groaned as he tugged at her nipples, then slid one hand down to finger her clit again, wanting to hear it, smell it, feel it again.

“Do it, Jack. Fill me. I want it.” She whispered, but it was like a direct order to his libido and he jerked, shuddered and did exactly that, moaning and holding her close, his nose buried in her neck.

Sara stretched and rolled over on the bed, but Jack’s side was empty. She rubbed her eyes and noted that the sun had moved around to the west facing window of the bedroom. It had to be after five. “How long did you let me sleep?” she called out, figuring he was down in his office. The house was silent but for the thumping of the dog’s tail on the floor when he saw her coming down the hall. She was sore all over, but felt more sated, more physically content than she had in years. They’d finished up in the kitchen, eaten ice cream straight from the container, giggling like teenagers then ended up in the shower and on the bed, where he’d used his mouth skills to draw yet more orgasms out of her before pounding into her again.