Having Jay's Baby (Having His Baby #2) (13 page)

“No.” It was my turn to chuckle. “No, I’m not.” I frowned. “What were you doing, anyway?”

She kissed me, lightly, slowly, her lips lingering. “This,” she said, breaking free long enough to glide one hand across my stiff cock. Tension caused my head to rear back, a gasp escaping. She encircled its width, drawing it against her stomach. “And this,” she added, her lips grazing mine, her hand moving down the length of my shaft in a rhythmic motion.

“How long have you been in here?”

“A couple of minutes,” she said, breathing hard as she kneaded the tense flesh. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

Desire hardened into a determined nub. The idea that she’d been touching me, looking at my body for so long ... I eased up, surveying her nakedness beneath me. Her breasts were high and tight with need, the nipples bristling against the cool air. Her smooth stomach gave way to dark triangle between her legs, my cock resting just above it. The nub exploded, harsh longing rippling out over my body in waves.

She really was here, and we were going to have sex.

I adjusted my weight, sliding to her side. One breast nestled against my chest; I clasped the other like a piece of ripe fruit, dipping my head to taste it. She made a low, guttural sound as I suckled.

An unexpected nutty flavour filled my mouth. I reared back, spluttering.

Her head jerked up. “What is it?”

“Is that milk?”

She looked at me and then down at her breast. “I don’t know,” she said dizzily. “Is it?”

“I think it was.” I was horrified for a moment. “Does that hurt?”

“No,” she said, laughing lightly. “It feels a bit weird, though … what does it taste like?”

I grimaced. “Warm milk.” I swallowed hesitantly. “It’s kind of nutty...” I grimaced again, even when she laughed. “Is that going to happen every time?”

She was full of the chuckles now, a complete turnaround from earlier that night. “No,” she said. “It must be a random leak. You didn’t suck hard enough to bring on my milk.” She eyed me censoriously. “Please don’t suck hard enough to bring on my milk. I need to keep all of these activities separate.”

I remained still at her side. Humour was making a return as the taste subsided, but with it, a rush of sudden awareness. Frowning, I ran one hand across her full breast, and then down her side. Her belly, now flat, had been swollen and pregnant not so long ago. It didn’t seem possible.

“It didn’t occur to me,” I said, my voice hoarse, “the last time, at my hotel…” I looked into her eyes. “I didn’t even think about it.”

“Think about what?” she asked, hesitantly.

I inhaled, taking in the scent of her again, savouring it. “That you’d given birth.” I paused again, my throat inexplicably tight. “To my daughter.”

I stayed still, watching her as she lay back on the pillow. Dark ribbons of hair fanned around her face, framing the delicate features. There were so many emotions coursing through me that all I could hear was a thundering roar. I couldn’t isolate any single strain. I let myself be swept along by it, wondering where it might lead.

Finally I lifted a hand and traced the sweep of her brow, a brow that I recognised in my daughter, too. She’d hopefully grow up to have the same elegant lines and open, honest features as her mother. I hoped that Nina would have Stella’s open, honest nature, too, and her sense of liberty.

“The milk kind of spoilt the mood, huh?” she said now, her smile hesitant.

“No…” I breathed a smile. “Changed it.”

“Do you want to call it a night?”

“No.” I moved against her, preventing escape. “Stay,” I said. The thought of her leaving now was abhorrent, like losing a limb. Sex or no sex, I needed her here, just for a moment while the dust of my emotions settled.

Eyes curious, she settled into the pillows again. Satisfaction coursed through me, warm and heady. She was staying. Despite the fact that we both knew that this wasn’t just sex; tonight, there was—something else in the mix.

I eased a hand under the hair at the nape of her neck. Leaning in, I tasted her mouth again. It had been a long time since the afternoon in that hotel room. I’d ravaged her that day like a man possessed, but not tonight. Tonight I wanted to enjoy every touch. I kissed her deeply, luxuriating in the slick, heated silkiness of her mouth. At the same time, I used my free hand to reacquaint myself with the body of the woman under me with inquisitive detail.

The firm, round breasts gave sustenance. The satiny skin soothed and protected. The plush, generous curves of her hips had sheltered and then delivered life. I touched the silken slit between her legs with reverence. She groaned, writhed, but I kept touching her, stroking her, teasing her. She panted, arching her back against me.

Some way into the proceedings the reverence eased back. It made way for a much baser set of emotions; baser, but so much more intense. The harder I pressed into her, the harder she pushed back. I forgot how we’d gotten here; all I knew was that I needed her, and that she was, at least for now, mine for the taking.

The seconds merged into minutes, maybe even hours. I took her once, twice, and she called out my name in a drowsy whisper as we fell asleep. I woke in the dark some time later. Remembering her wakeup call from earlier, I eased around her sleeping, nubile body. I kissed every inch of her flesh. I sucked her nipples and traced my fingers where they curved, impossibly soft against the sides of her arms. I tasted her, opened her to my mouth and sucked her juices until she moaned in her sleep.

I was pulsing by the time she woke. It was her turn to press me back against the covers. Her lips trailed fire down my body. I gripped her hair—anything to tether myself to reality—when her lush mouth enveloped my cock. She drove me to the edge and then, tortuously, stopped; her hands stroked my balls, gently weighing them, before her lips pressed kisses that were at once hot and cold; she drove me to the edge again.

I watched with barely contained desperation as she climbed on to me some minutes later. Her thighs were soft and smooth, and yet encased my hips like a vice. I shut my eyes and counted to ten. She was hot and wet, pressed up against me tightly, but she wasn’t taking me inside of her. Unable to stand it, I opened my eyes to the sight of her rearing up, her breasts magnificent, her cushioned waist flaring out to that spectacular ass.

Her pale skin gleamed in the moonlight. Her gaze was shuttered with desire. I shut my eyes again, wildly trying to control my orgasm, as she began to writhe on top of my cock. I was going to come. I uttered some unintelligible oath. I was going to come like a horny kid having his first ride.

“Stop,” I managed. I opened my eyes and gripped her hips.

A wicked smile curved her mouth. “You want me to stop?”

I sat up. Primal determination steeled my focus. I’d gone way past the point of return. Supporting my upper body with one hand, I yanked her against me, lifting her body. “Now,” I said, my voice hoarse.

I slid into her in one, tight, burning movement. My head dropped, my face cushioned by her chest. I thrust against her.

Her head eased back and the strands of her hair brushed against my thighs. Breasts protruded, she started a slow, deep and satisfying rhythm. The angle was perfect. I’d never been so utterly enveloped before. I clung to her, holding on for as long as I could, thrusting and then gasping with pain, until I couldn’t hold on any longer. I came with a long, shuddering release.

In the blur that followed I was aware of her body clenching in spasms around me. She invoked God, and then me, several times. It seemed like it might never end. I eased back on to the pillow when I couldn’t support her any longer. She fell on me, breathing heavily, her fragrant hair everywhere.

#

Nina’s crying woke me up. I bolted upright, only realising once I was awake that Stella was already getting out of the bed. Possessed by God knew what, I put out a hand to stop her. “No, it’s okay. I’ll go,” I said. I glanced at the darkness outside the shutters to get my bearings.

“Unless those pectorals contain milk, I’ll go,” she said drowsily.

I scratched my head and stared at her.
Oh, yeah
... I lay back, feeling partly relieved and partly useless, and rubbed a hand over my face as I focused on Stella again. Her ass was sweetly rounded as she got up and steadied herself. She had the gall to chuckle lightly at my confusion.

Disgruntled, I smoothed a hand across one cheek, leaned over and kissed it. “Get back here,” I said, “once you’re done.”

“What time is it?”

I reached for my phone. “Five,” I said.

There was a pause. She looked at me, the twilight masking her expression, but I sensed the look. Five o’clock was almost morning. Five o’clock was when I normally got up if I was going to the gym. It wasn’t a time when people put off the reality of the following day. A small silent groan erupted in my chest, and I recognised in the straightening of Stella’s posture that she was undergoing the same realisation: the night had come to an end.

I resisted the urge to clasp her back into the bed. Her daughter—my daughter—needed her. A wave of frustration washed over me, chased by a short measure of guilt.

This parenting thing … it was going to take some getting used to.

I waited ten minutes. Highlights from the night’s events kept me awake; unable to get back to sleep, I crossed the hallway and went into the guest bedroom. What I found was unexpected: Stella was curled into a foetal position on the bed, fast asleep, with Nina at her side. Naked, they seemed gloriously vulnerable, like two beautiful animals. My body settled.

Nina ... she was perfect in miniature—it was a marvel to behold. Every tiny finger and toe; the smooth skin without a blemish or a crease; the long, sweeping lashes and mouth so like her mother’s. Her head was the same shape as mine. I could see it clearly, but I couldn’t quite process it yet. I wondered what else she’d inherit from me. From my mother—my father?

I rubbed my face, shaking away the tiredness and the mild confusion. Seeing that the sky was starting to get light, I lifted my baby daughter, cradling her against my chest. A savage rush of protectiveness swelled in me as I laid her down in the cot, rushed in on a powdery scent. For a second, I could scarcely stay upright, the effect so intense.

To hell with my faulty genes, and to hell with my lack of experience—I would
not
let this little girl down.

Standing at the island in the kitchen some ten minutes later, reason squarely replaced in my brain, I adjusted myself in my shorts. Back to immediate and less sentimental matters—call it sex or whatever kind of confusing, intense, erotic connection we’d shared in my bed—I was going to be sore later.

I searched around for my gym bag in the downstairs closet until the sound of my phone vibrating on the island jerked me back out to the kitchen. I grappled for it, pressing the call button before it could increase in volume.

“Yes,” I said, my voice low.

“Jay?” It was Elizabeth. “Darling, thank God, you’re there.” She sounded even more agitated than she’d been the day before. My heart sank at the sheer intrusion of it. “Sweetheart, I have the most awful news,” she said.

“What is it?”

Elizabeth had a tendency for melodrama when it concerned the most minor detail, and yet, like my mother, could remain stalwart in the face of real tragedy. I was never sure what to expect. All I knew was that I wasn’t in the mood for more news about Harry Benson and his tawdry dealings. The tentative optimism of the night I’d just shared with Stella wouldn’t survive it.

“It’s your father,” she said. “Darling, I need you to stay calm...”

“I am calm,” I said.
God, what has that man done now?
“What is it?”

She was silent for a moment. “He’s had a heart attack.”

Everything went very quiet, both over the line and inside my head. I was so still that it was a shock to hear my gym bag slump to the ground with a muffled thud. I looked down and realised I’d dropped it. “When?” I asked, staring straight ahead.

“I don’t want to tell you this over the phone,” she said, her voice catching.

Impatience unfurled in me like a mushroom cloud. “Damn it, Elizabeth. You’d better tell me. When?”

“This morning,” she said, tearfully. “Darling, they arrested him.”

The ensuing silence seemed deafening. “For what?” I asked finally.

“My father…” she said, and stopped. “I don’t know the exact details. I just know they’ve started rounding everyone up: your father; Jack Claiborne; Teddy Graham and his wife–”

“Your father turned them in?” I snapped my head to the side, unable to believe what I was hearing.

“All of them,” she said. “The whole Harvard set. I don’t even know what they’re charged with. They were all arrested this morning. It’s horrendous. My mother just called. She said my father’s out to get them all. He doesn’t see why he should pay the price for everyone–”

“Okay, Elizabeth, calm down.” Pacing, I peered out of the front window blinds, half expecting to see FBI men circling the property. “I need to make a few calls.”

“No, Jay, I need you to come and get me,” she said fervently.

“I will,” I promised, “but first I need to know what’s happening.”