That's My Baby! (19 page)

“We have to be quiet at first,” she murmured. “Just in case.”

“I’ll try.” With shaking hands he cupped her face in both hands, tipped her head back and lowered his mouth to hers. His kiss was furnace-hot and more insistent than she ever remembered. His tongue probed boldly as he slipped his thumbs to the corners of her mouth and nudged her mouth wider.

He kissed her as if he couldn’t get close enough, deep enough. She wrapped her arms around his waist and fit his denim-covered erection between her thighs, holding him tight against her. They were both breathing so raggedly that she wondered if their gasps alone would wake the baby.

His hands slipped from her face to the top snap of the shirt she’d borrowed from him. She wore no bra underneath, and she knew that once he began to caress her breasts, she’d lose her mind.

But this time she was determined to give as good as she got. This time she would be in charge. The night was long and she could afford to be generous. As he worked his way down the snaps, she reached for his belt buckle.

Before he finished with the snaps, she’d unfastened his belt. By the time he pushed the shirt over her shoulders, she’d opened the button on his jeans and unzipped his fly. He moaned softly against her mouth.

The prospect of what she planned to do, and how it would no doubt affect him, made her pulse race. Pushing both jeans and underwear down, she discovered that he was, in his words, stiff as a tire iron.

Drawing back from his kiss, she guided him down to sit on the edge of the bed before kneeling in front of him.

“Jess—”

“Shh.” She kissed him quickly before shrugging out of the borrowed shirt. The movement jiggled her breasts, but when he reached for them she caught his wrists. “Not yet,” she murmured. “Take off your shirt. I’ll handle the rest.”

Then she tortured him by making him watch her, topless, taking off his boots. She knew the movement of her unfettered breasts excited him. He’d once joked that he wished skiing wasn’t so cold a sport, because he’d love to watch her do it topless.

If his harsh breathing was any indication, he was pretty darned excited now. So excited that he’d left the job of taking off his shirt half done. Apparently, after unsnapping it, he’d become so absorbed in watching her that he’d forgotten what he’d been instructed to do.

“Your shirt,” she reminded him with a smile. Her skin flushed with anticipation.

She waited until he had it off and then she took a moment to admire his work-sculpted physique. With his well-developed muscles and hair a bit too long to be fashionable, he looked far more like a calendar model than a businessman. She wanted him now, sooner than now.

But instead she took her own sweet time removing his jeans, making sure she brushed her nipples against his thighs, his knees and his calves as she worked. Last of all, she pulled off his socks, leaning down so her breasts tickled the tops of his feet.

When next she glanced at him, each fist was clenched around a section of blanket and his eyes were squeezed shut. As she’d hoped, he was in ecstatic agony. Now for her final gift.

She moved between his legs, nudging his sensitive inner thighs with her breasts. In the process she gave thanks for not being small in that department. For what she had in mind, she needed everything she had.

He opened his eyes to gaze down at her. “You’re destroying me,” he whispered.

She merely smiled and leaned forward to place a wet kiss on the top of his rigid penis.

He gasped. “Jess, you’d better not—”

“Shh,” she said again. “Give me your hands.”

Quivering, he held them out, as if he’d become her slave. She cupped them against the sides of her breasts and showed him that if he pressed gently, he would capture the shaft of his penis in that soft, silken valley. As he complied, he groaned and closed his eyes. His fingers began an involuntary kneading motion as he held her breasts snug against his erection.

She moved gently up and down, treating him to slow, tantalizing friction. “Open your eyes,” she whispered. “And watch.”

When he opened his eyes, they were glazed with pleasure. He looked down as he kept up the sensuous rhythm, and his breath rasped in his throat. “Jess. Oh, Jess, I’m going to—”

“I know.” She watched his face, saw the muscles work in his jaw, knew he was close. She increased the tempo.

He made a noise low in his throat.

“I want you to,” she murmured. “Come for me, Nat.”

He began to quake with reaction.

When she knew he was nearly there, she leaned over and slid her lips over the smooth tip. With a cry held behind clenched teeth, he came. Flushed and triumphant, she swallowed all that he had to give.

N
AT WISHED
he could write poetry. Then he would write a poem dedicated to Jessica’s breasts. After treating him to one of the most fantastic experiences of his life, she’d shucked off the rest of her clothes and they’d crawled under the covers to cuddle.

And it was a world-class cuddle as he nestled his cheek against one of her deserving-of-a-poem breasts and cupped his hand around the other. Besides the benefit of the pillowy
warmth supporting his head, he could hear the steady beat of her heart and feel the rise and fall of her chest with each breath. As if all that wasn’t enough, she began stroking her fingers through his hair.

Elizabeth was still asleep, and he figured they could talk now without worrying so much about waking her up. Sebastian had lectured him about that before he left.
Once she’s fast asleep, you can pretty much enjoy yourselves, so long as you don’t start yelling or anything.
Nat remembered Sebastian presenting this advice with total seriousness, and the memory made him smile. He’d wanted to yell during that last episode, but he’d managed to control himself, God knows how.

He sighed happily and snuggled closer. “You just keep piling memories on top of memories, Jess,” he said.

“I can’t think of a better plan.”

“That’s because there isn’t one.” He caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger and stroked gently, making it hard. “I love watching this happen.” He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, seeing the passion flare as he plucked her taut nipple in a slow rhythm. “I love watching you get hot.”

“Do you now?”

He smiled. Her voice had taken on that breathy quality that told him exactly what she was thinking about. But he liked to hear her say it. He cupped her breast and swirled his tongue around her nipple to shake up the rhythm of her breathing. It worked. Then he looked into her eyes as he kneaded her breast. “Tell me what you’d like.”

She ran a tongue over her lower lip in a way that drove him crazy. “World peace.”

“I’m working on that, smarty-pants. Anything else?”

“Come closer and I’ll whisper it in your ear, big boy.”

He edged up and took that sassy mouth in a kiss that left her gasping. “Anyone who did what you just did to me can say it to my face,” he murmured.

And she did. Explicitly. Using good old-fashioned Anglo-Saxon words to describe exactly what she wanted him to do to her. His blood roared in his ears and he grew instantly hard again.

Now his breathing wasn’t so steady, either. “I think I can manage that,” he said.

And manage it he did. He loved her hard, repeating the earthy words she’d used and getting her to say them again as he drove into her. He loved to watch her mouth when she spoke that way, knowing she’d never use that language anywhere else but here, in this bed, with him.

Thanks to her wonderful gift at the start of their evening together, he had staying power this time. He could experiment with different positions, looking for ways to give her a climax while holding himself in check. Rolling to his back, he took her with him and urged her to ride him until she lost control. Then he took her from behind and brought her to another explosion.

The room was cool, but they were slick with sweat by the time he stretched her out on her back and savored his old-fashioned favorite. The other positions were great for erotic adventure, and he enjoyed them all. But this one, he thought as he slid deep inside her and gazed into her eyes, was for making love.

He laced his fingers through hers in the gesture he thought of as theirs alone. Palm to palm, bodies joined, eyes locked. All was right with his world.

Slowly he eased back and thrust forward again. “When I’m here inside you, I have everything I need,” he murmured. “Nothing else matters.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I’m glad.”

He continued the slow, sensuous rhythm. “But I’m human, and sometimes I forget what’s important to me. Who’s important to me. But then I sink into you and I know all I need to know.”

She gazed up at him, her face luminous with happiness.

He cursed himself for ever giving her a moment’s doubt. “I love you, Jess. I always have. I always will.”

“Oh, Nat.” Her words trembled. “I love you, too.”

He tightened his grip on her fingers, increasing the pace. “We can’t let each other go.” He felt her first contraction. This time he would be with her.

“We won’t.”

“Then hold on to me, Jess.” He thrust harder and let himself explode at the moment that she gave a soft cry and arched up against him. “Hold on to me,” he said, gasping. Then he covered her mouth with his as they whirled together into the heart of the storm.

S
TEVEN
P
RUITT WAS RUNNING
out of money. Harassing Jessica for six months had been the most fun he’d had in his life, giving him more of a buzz than any game of Labyrinth.

Putting her constantly on the defensive had also gone a long way toward healing the wounds from their college days together at good old Columbia U. She’d thought she was too good for him back then, but he’d kept up the pursuit anyway, knowing she was making a big mistake in turning him down. And she’d just begun to thaw when dear daddy had stepped in and offered him a deal to go away.

Some deal. Sure, he’d been able to finish school at Northwestern on Franklin’s money, and he’d been given the promised job at a Franklin Publishing newspaper after graduation.

But had Russell P. let him break the story that would have made him internationally famous? Of course not. Steven, believing this was a free country, had protested being muzzled. That’s when he’d discovered that this damn country wasn’t so free, after all. Russell P. not only had him fired, he had him blackballed. Fortunately, Steven had savings. He’d invested the money he would have spent on dates if he had dates, which he didn’t.

But the savings were nearly gone, which meant it was time to stop the kid stuff with Jessica and stick it to Russell P. at last. Therefore he definitely had to take Jessica and the brat from the line shack. He wasn’t going to have a better opportunity anytime soon. Unfortunately, in order to
make the most of the opportunity, he’d be forced to camp out.

The great outdoors was highly overrated as far as he was concerned. Once he’d figured out where the damn line shack was, he’d tried to come up with a plan that didn’t involve staying out in the wilderness, either before or after the snatch, but he’d finally concluded it was the only logical way to make this work.

He’d spent one whole day finding a cave without a bear or snakes already in residence. Then he’d spent another day gathering supplies, stowing them in the cave and setting up camp. The cave was a good two-hour ride from the line shack, with a stream in between that he could use for covering his tracks. Once he had Jessica and the kid, he’d take the route that went across several large areas of solid granite, to be on the safe side.

It was an extremely isolated spot, and he knew people got lost in this kind of country all the time. If not for his photographic memory, he’d probably never be able to find the cave again himself once he’d left it. But remote as the cave was, it was still only a half hour’s ride from something very critical to his plan—a telephone wire. Russell P. was only getting one ransom note, and he was getting it the modern way. Steven was going to hook into that telephone line and use his laptop to send the pompous hypocrite an e-mail.

Finally, on a cloudless morning, he was ready to ride to the line shack and stake it out. Jessica only had one man to protect her there, and by the law of averages, the guy wasn’t as smart as Steven. Not many people were as smart as Steven. Sooner or later he’d get his opportunity. And then he’d be rich.

J
ESSICA DID SLEEP
, but not until nearly dawn, when she and Nat finally gave in to exhaustion. Cradled spoon fashion in the curve of his body, she slept so soundly that even Eliz
abeth’s babbling didn’t penetrate at first. When it finally did, she started to climb out of bed.

Nat restrained her. “I’ll go,” he murmured in her ear.

Surrounded in the warm glow of their night together and the unspoken promise of forever-afters, she decided maybe he should be the one to go to Elizabeth this morning. He’d never had her all to himself, and if he had any trouble, she’d be right there to help.

She turned in his arms so she could give him a good-morning smile. “Okay,” she said. “That would be nice.”

He combed her hair out of her eyes. “I can think of something that would be nicer, but I guess we have to act like parents until this afternoon’s nap.”

She liked the way he’d said
parents,
as if he’d truly accepted that role for himself. “But have you noticed how exciting it is to want to make love and then have to wait?”

“No, really?” He grinned and tweaked her nipple. “Yeah, I’d noticed. That doesn’t mean I can’t complain a little that nap time is several hours away.” He kissed her quickly and got out of bed.

God, he was gorgeous, she thought as he stood there for a minute looking around for his jeans. “They’re over on my side,” she said, reaching down to the floor for his jeans and briefs. She rolled back over and handed them to him. “We just left them there after—”

“Don’t remind me.” His penis stirred as he gazed at her breasts. “Or I’ll never get these on. In fact, I’d better not look at you lying in that bed.” He turned his back and leaned down to step into his briefs.

“Fine. Just moon me and make me suffer.” Front or back, he was an arousing sight. She grew moist as she stared at his tight butt and the bounty just visible between his legs.

“You’re the one who said she appreciated the advantages of waiting.”

“Yeah.” She sighed when he pulled up his briefs, ob
scuring her view. “I’m trying to remember exactly what those advantages were.”

“I think you said waiting would make us want each other more, so the lovemaking would be even better.” He stepped into his jeans, and when he zipped them the material tightened up beautifully over his behind.

She had to clench her hands to keep from reaching out and giving him a pat. “I guess that’s what I said.”

He turned around, a shirtless god in snug-fitting jeans. “That’s what you said.”

“The fact is, I can’t imagine wanting you more than I do right now.”

He smiled. “We’ll test your theory in a few hours, then. Right now, I’m going to change Elizabeth’s diaper.” Then he walked around the end of the screen.

Heaven, Jessica thought. She was definitely in heaven.

Then Elizabeth started to cry.

“What’s wrong?” Jessica called as she fumbled around on the floor for a shirt to put on.

“Hell, I don’t know!” Nat sounded frustrated and scared. “I’m doing everything the way you taught me.” His voice took on a coaxing note. “Come on, Elizabeth. I just want to take your sleeper off.”

The baby’s wail only got louder.

“I’ll be right there.” Jessica climbed out of bed and thrust her arms into the sleeves of the shirt she’d appropriated from Nat the day before. She snapped it hurriedly, not even bothering to fold back the sleeves the way she had yesterday.

The chill in the cabin gave her goose bumps on her bare legs as she charged around the screen, nearly knocking it over.

Nat stood beside the crib, his hands hanging limply at his sides, his shoulders slumped. He looked emotionally demolished. Elizabeth had crawled to the far side of the
crib. Her sleeper was half undone and she was screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Jessica crooned. “What’s the matter, little girl?”

Jessica looked at her and crawled frantically in her direction, still crying.

“She hates me,” Nat said dully.

“No, she doesn’t.” Jessica picked her up and held her close. “There, there, sweetie. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay,” Nat said. “How can I be a father to her if I touch her and she starts to scream?”

Jessica rocked the baby and gazed at him over the top of Elizabeth’s head. “Don’t you remember that she did the same thing to me that first morning I saw her?”

“Yes, but that was because she had no idea who you were at first. She knows me.” His eyes were filled with anguish. “I’ve been around her for days, Jess. I carried her on my back all afternoon yesterday.”

“Yes, but she couldn’t see your face. And you were always with me. This was the first time you tried to do something with her while you were alone. She might have thought I’d gone off and left her.”

He gave the baby a tortured look. “She doesn’t like me, I tell you.”

“Nat, that’s not so. She’s not used to you, yet, but—”

“I can’t handle this. I’m going to make coffee.” He brushed past her.

With a sigh Jessica put Elizabeth back in the crib and began changing her while dishes clanged in the kitchen. “That’s your daddy making all that noise,” she murmured to Elizabeth, “and I’m afraid you’ve really hurt his feelings.”

The baby sniffed and rubbed at her nose.

“I know you didn’t mean to.” Jessica grabbed a tissue and wiped Elizabeth’s nose. “But it would help matters if you’d be nicer to him next time.” Jessica was determined
there would be a next time, and soon. She finished dressing Elizabeth and carried her into the kitchen area.

Nat had put on his boots and a shirt. He sat at the table with a mug of coffee in front of him.

Jessica walked to the cupboard and took down a box of crackers they’d brought for Elizabeth. Propping the baby on one hip, she got a cracker out of the box.

Elizabeth crowed happily when Jessica handed her the cracker.

Hoping that meant the baby was over her fit of crying, Jessica set her down on the floor beside the table. “Would you please keep an eye on her while I get dressed?” she asked.

He glanced up at her. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It’s a fine idea. I’ll only be a minute.”

His expression was bleak as he stared at her. “It wasn’t her crying that was the real problem, Jess.” His voice tensed. “It was the way I felt when she cried. I got angry at her for doing it, when I thought she should be used to me by now. I wanted to shake her.”

“Well, of course you did.” Jessica felt there were land mines ahead and she tried to figure out where they were. “I can understand that.”

“No, you
don’t
understand. I got
angry.
Don’t you see what that means?” His voice rose. “I’m just like my father!”

Elizabeth began to whimper.

“You are not just like your father.” She scooped Elizabeth up so she wouldn’t start crying again. “You wanted to shake her, but you didn’t! That’s the whole difference, Nat. All of us get angry at our children from time to time. But we don’t beat them within an inch of their lives. And neither will you.”

“You don’t know that.” He shoved back his chair and stood. “You have no idea what would have happened if
you hadn’t been right here. Who knows what I would have done?”

“I know!” She wanted to cry, herself. They’d been so damn close, and now he was pulling away again.

Elizabeth’s whimpers grew louder.

“See?” He pointed to the baby. “She takes one look at me and she’s ready to cry again. Smart kid.”

“She’s starting to cry again because we’re arguing. I’m sure she doesn’t like that. Now, will you please watch her for a few minutes?”

“No.” He pushed back his chair and stood. “I don’t trust myself.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not kidding.” He walked over to the door and grabbed his hat and jacket. Then he punched some buttons on a small box mounted near the door. “I’m going out to do something aggressive like chop wood for the stove. I just turned off the alarm. Turn it back on when I’m out the door.”

She watched him go in total amazement. She couldn’t believe he’d give up on himself that quick. Not until he was outside splitting logs did she realize that in their preoccupation with each other the day before, he’d neglected to show her how to turn the alarm on and off.

The tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose, as they used to do when she thought her stalker was nearby, watching her. Well, if that wasn’t the power of suggestion at work. She didn’t know how to set the alarm, so she was freaking herself out. She’d become addicted to having a security alarm on.

Well, she couldn’t do anything about the alarm, anyway. Even if she managed to reactivate it, she wouldn’t know how to turn it off again when Nat came back in. And he’d be in soon. After he’d split a few logs he’d realize how ridiculous he was being and come back to try again. In the
meantime, nobody would try to storm the house if Nat was outside with an ax.

While she was waiting for Nat to come to his senses, she decided she might as well get dressed. She put Elizabeth in the high chair and gave her another cracker to occupy her while she quickly got into her clothes. She glanced out the window once while she was zipping her jeans and saw that Nat had already worked up a sweat and discarded his jacket. He’d be in soon, and they’d talk about this.

They had to talk about this. Too much was riding on the outcome of this week.

N
AT SPLIT LOGS
as if each swing of the ax struck another blow at the demons within him. He’d never known such agony. He wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt that little baby in a fit of anger, but given his background, how could he be sure? Jessica didn’t know. She thought she did, but she’d been sheltered so much during her life that she couldn’t conceive of a grown man wanting to hurt a child.

He could imagine it all too well. Over the years, he’d read all the pop psychology articles he could find, and they’d all warned that an abused boy is in danger of abusing when he becomes a man. So he’d decided not to take the chance, to never get married or have a child.

Then Jess had come along. He hadn’t counted on a woman like Jess, who made him dream of things he thought he’d given up. But a man couldn’t change who he was, and this morning, when Elizabeth had looked at him with horror and begun to cry, anger had boiled up in him. Hot anger, probably the same kind his father had felt right before he went for the belt, or on some days, the rawhide whip he’d bought in Mexico.

And yet…Nat had to remember that he hadn’t acted on his anger. He loved Jess more than life itself, and yes, he even loved that red-faced, crying little girl. What if Jess was right and he had overcome the legacy his father had
left him? But if he was wrong, he’d be gambling with the lives of two people who meant more to him than anything in world. He didn’t really have a right to do that. He—

Behind him a twig crunched. Jess. His heart swelled with love. She’d come out with the baby, ready to ask him to reconsider. And he would try again, because he loved them both so much. After all, they still had nearly a week to work this out. He started to turn at the moment a million stars exploded inside his skull. Then everything went black.