by Tawny Weber
“Then why don’t you?”
“Here? In the bathroom.”
“Why not? Chicken?” She smiled, knowing that like her, he never backed down from a challenge. “The whole place is brand new. Just think, we’ll be the first ones who ever do it in here.” She took two thick, white towels and stretched them across the floor before settling onto them. Between her legs felt wetter than the tub. She felt hot and dirty, but didn’t care. All she could think about was how she suddenly wanted his mouth everywhere.
He tugged off his boxers, then leaned over her for another kiss, and that first brush of his bare body against hers was electric. Sure, they’d kissed lots of times in their bathing suits at the neighborhood pool, but this was different. She had goose bumps.
“Cold?”
“Hot. Very hot.” Maisey had read the line in one of Delia’s Cosmos.
She pulled his head down to her chest, and he kissed the crowns of her boobs that were practically popping out of her bra. Her body sent signals she wasn’t sure how to read. Her downstairs hummed and she pressed her legs together, dying for friction. Delia bragged about how she touched herself all the time, but Maisey never had. The few times she’d tried, the cat jumped on her bed.
The thought made her giggle.
“What’s wrong?” Nash asked. “Doesn’t this feel good?”
Maisey closed her eyes. “It feels great, babe.”
He swept his kisses lower and lower until reaching the apex of her legs.
Excitement bubbled in her throat and she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands. She rested them on her belly, but then Nash nudged her thighs apart and was pressing hot, wet open-mouthed kisses to her inner thighs. She felt the oddest, hungry yearning for more, and raised her hips up to meet his mouth. He ran the tip of his tongue along her panty line, and then moved the thin, silky fabric aside, to kiss her lower lips. It wasn’t enough—not nearly enough.
She tried wriggling free of her panties, but they weren’t coming off.
He helped and once they finally passed her ankles, Nash flung them under the sink. Maisey should have gone with the G-string like Delia said. Then, Nash could have ripped them off like guys did in movies.
With him back between her legs, her body quivered with a strange need. She was so wet down there, and she was embarrassed he might see, but then he was pushing her legs apart and kissing her and licking her in places where no one had ever been, and she couldn’t breathe.
The sensation of the tip of his tongue flicking against what could only be her clit was beyond belief good. Like behind her closed eyes, a kaleidoscope of color and light warred with the steadily rising pressure. He’d found her hole and pressed his tongue in deep, establishing a rhythm that made her wild.
Maisey bucked with his each thrust. Moans left her throat in a husky voice she no longer recognized.
Was this even real?
She slid her fingers into his hair, pulling until she rode the crest of a wave only to fall and fall until he was catching her.
“I-I have to get a condom,” he said on a ragged breath.
“No. Don’t leave me. I’ll be fine.”
He eased up the length of her body and she felt his thingee pressing against her thigh. When he kissed her, she tasted herself on his tongue which only made her hotter and wetter and more determined than ever to get him inside her now.
She fumbled for him, helping him find her hole.
“Sure?” he again asked.
She again nodded.
And then he was easing inside. She was so wet and ready, she didn’t think it would hurt, but it did. She cried out.
“Want me to stop?” He drew back.
“No. Please . . .” Please what, she didn’t know. Just that she needed him inside her, finishing what they’d begun.
He plunged back in, and this time, she felt a subtle shift of her body welcoming him inside. She swelled for him and raked her fingertips up his back. She arched up to meet his every thrust, and when he exploded inside her, and then shuddered, she held him close, never wanting the magic to end.
Her whole world seemed sharper.
She felt the cold marble floor seeping through the towels onto her back. She smelled the strawberry bubbles and heard a steady drip from the tub faucet. Most of all, with him still deep inside her, she felt his heart beating against hers.
They were connected. They were one.
“I came inside you,” he said.
“It’s okay.”
“What if you get pregnant?”
“That would be okay, too. We’ll get married and buy a sweet little house. We’ll be so happy with our baby boy or girl.”
He pushed off of her to stare deep into her eyes. “Is that what you want?”
“Uh huh.”
“Me, too.”
They kissed again, and then she started to cry. Not because she was sad, but because she was so incredibly, Willy-Wonka happy.
“Hey, sleepyhead. We’ve gotta get this show on the road.”
Maisey was slow to wake, but then she opened her eyes to see Nash’s dear face and it didn’t matter that she was back in a swamp, covered in bug bites and hungrier and dirtier than she’d ever been. She didn’t care that bad guys were looking to shoot them, and her latest cramp hurt worse. As long as she and Nash were together, everything would be okay.
“Do you remember junior prom?” She sat up so she could face him, loving that his cheeks blushed red.
“Kinda hard to forget.”
She giggled. “I know, right? But it was good. That was the perfect night.”
He swatted a mosquito. “It was a great time, but let’s skip memory lane and get you and the baby to a doctor.”
“Agreed.” Another cramp hit. This one hard enough to steal her breath. She had to keep telling herself it was no big deal, because no way was she having this baby in a swamp. “But we had fun, right?”
After kissing her forehead, he said, “You were amazing.”
Though she craved more—like a kiss to her lips—she pushed herself upright, then gave him a corny salute. “Aye-aye, captain.” She waved to the front of the boat toward a sandy stretch of shore. “Let me visit the ladies room and we’ll set sail.”
He helped her waddle over the craft’s low side hull, then delivered a stern lecture on staying within his view, and not getting too close to the water’s edge.
Her nightgown was a mess, and without a tree to lean against, she couldn’t remove her panties without losing balance. “Nash? Could I get a little help?”
He’d been fiddling with the boat’s engine, but in seconds returned to her side. “What’s up?”
“This is embarrassing, but I’m too big to get my . . .” She gestured lower. “You know, off, so I can pee.”
“Oh. Ooooh.” He was once again blushing through his stubble. Ever the gentleman, he knelt beside her, looking away while tugging down her panties. If they’d been anywhere else, she’d have been all over him—especially, after reliving their first steamy time. Her memories were so vivid, the brush of his knuckles against her outer thighs was almost enough to make her come.
Her baby books had talked about some women being needy right before delivery, and how sex could even speed things along during labor, but this was ridiculous.
“Go ahead and do your thing.” He turned his back to her, but the sight of him holding her hot pink panties made her smile. “I’ll wait.”
How awkward would it be having him help tug them back on? She’d rather go commando.
The day’s temp was already rising, and the sandy-bottomed water around the hammock was crystal clear. She’d for sure see any critter swimming toward her. Feeling about as fresh as a two-day-old bologna sandwich left in a baggie on the seat of a car, she strolled into the water, loving the instant cool.
“What are you doing?” Nash asked. “On land, we at least have a fighting chance against gators, but not with you in the water.”
“Relax, Mom. I
’m fine.” Able to see at least twenty feet ahead, she sloshed out to her knees and splashed water onto her legs, arms and chest. It felt so refreshing that she went deeper, washing her face. The water made her huge belly buoyant. The relief on her lower back practically made her purr.
“Seriously, get back to shore. We need to get going.”
“Okay. Give me a few more minutes.”
“Maisey, we—what the—shit!”
She turned to see what had Nash so cranky, then screamed.
Chapter 15
Holy hell . . . Nash had heard Burmese pythons were getting to be a nuisance in the Everglades, but this was ridiculous. A snake at least fifteen feet long had latched onto his left calf and now squeezed the shit out of both legs and was still climbing. He tried wrenching him off, but the massive fucker was still climbing.
Nash reached for the knife he kept strapped on his utility belt, but the snake had already covered it.
Knocked off balance, Nash fell.
“Maisey, calm down, get to the boat, and grab the machete that’s back by engine.”
“Ohmygod!” Wide-eyed and borderline hysterical, she made him proud by pulling herself together and getting to the boat. She struggled getting over the squat side hull, but eventually made it.
The pain and pressure the snake applied was incredible.
If Maisey couldn’t make it back, how long did he have until he could no longer breathe? Heart pounding in his ears, never had Nash felt less a man.
He shoved and pushed and tried kicking, but somehow the snake was still climbing higher. His chest felt tight and his head throbbed.
Hurry, Mais . . .
His vision blurred, and he was hotter than hot. Sweat rained from his forehead, beading into his eyes. He tried wiping them, but his arms no longer worked. Was this the end?
Suddenly, she was there. Crying out, slashing at the snake’s gesticulating coils. “Hold on, Nash. Don’t you dare die . . .”
He couldn’t breathe. The snake worked his rib cage, squeezing out his last breath. He wanted to answer Maisey, to tell her how much he cared.
“Nash! Open your eyes and fight! I need you!” she cried while slashing and then, with them both covered in bloody snake parts and looking like victims of a psycho slasher movie, he dragged in a breath and his lungs were once again filled with air instead of panic. His mind sharpened and his arms were strong enough to push free of the creature’s limp coils.
Holy shit . . . Still dazed, Nash pushed himself upright.
“You’re okay . . .” Maisey was hugging him and crying and when he took her into his arms, it was with newfound awe.
“Do you realize you took on a fifteen-foot snake and won?”
“I was so scared for you.”
“That makes two of us.” Nash managed a laugh. “I was so worried about alligators that it never occurred to me to worry about man-eating snakes.”
“Come on,” she took his hand, leading him toward the water. “Let’s get cleaned off.”
His legs wobbled, and his pride fell another dozen notches as he was forced to concede that if his pregnant first love hadn’t been holding him up, he would have fallen.
She helped him sit on the sandy bottom, then washed him as if he were a child. She hummed an ethereal tune and his shoulders sagged as he surrendered to her and the moment, grateful to be alive.
“I’m stupid off my game,” he noted.
“Hush. You’re fine.”
“No. For real, I’m supposed to be saving you.” He sighed.
“You have—about a dozen times. Now, drop it. You’re still a big, tough guy, and I still love . . . you.” She’d washed his face and now dropped to her knees, kissing his forehead and cheeks and nose. “I’ve always loved you.”
Nash closed his eyes, wanting to return her beautiful sentiment, knowing he should love her, and once had deeply. But he couldn’t. Not anymore. He was badly broken, and if this recent turn of events hadn’t proven that to her, nothing would.
“Nash?” She raised his chin. “Say something—anything.” Her fathomless blue eyes begged, please.
“We should get going.”
Still staring and with tears welling, she nodded.
“Let’s keep heading north. We’ll have to eventually hit I-75.”
“Great plan.” She no longer met his gaze and more than he’d been scared of once again losing himself to her, he was that much more afraid of never again having her. Without his wife, he’d felt adrift, but here in this godforsaken swamp, he’d begun to think he might again have a reason for life. A life that, in a perfect world, might begin and end with Maisey.
She struggled upright and swam to the boat, once again fighting to drag herself aboard. Back in high school, Nash’s best friend, Todd, had a ski boat they’d take out on weekends. He’d been too broke to buy a swim ladder, so they’d all perfected the art of climbing over the side. Apparently, Maisey hadn’t lost her touch. Was there anything the woman couldn’t do?
Nash was more impressed with her than ever—not that the fact changed anything. “Aw, Mais, wait . . .”
The snake bite in his calf hurt like a sonofabitch, but the rest of him seemed to be in working order. He made it to the boat in time to hold out his hands, offering to help her the rest of the way to her seat.
Stoney eyed, she silently rejected his offer.
“You know I love you, Mais—like family.” I’m sorry, but that’s all I’m capable of for now. Maybe ever. After what she’d been through, she deserved more.
“Whatever. Can we go?”
He opened his mouth to explain, but what was the point? She was pissed, and he had no eloquent way to tell her his heart would forever belong to a dead woman.
Nash tried starting the engine, but got nothing.
No ruh, ruh, ruh. No ticking. Nada.
Shit.
“Nash . . . Could you please come here? I-I think we have a problem.”
“Damn straight we do.” He tried the motor again. “This sucker’s dead. But what the hell? It worked fine when I shut it off.”
“Nash, please . . .”
“I know you’re ready to get started.” He’d already made his way to the back of the boat to check battery connections. “I’m working as fast as I can.”
“This isn’t about the stupid engine!” Her shrieked tone was loud enough to roust the seagull who’d landed atop the airboat’s fan into flight.
“Then what’s the problem?” In no mood for a confrontation about his feelings, Nash stormed past the bench seats to her. “From where I’m standing, a busted engine is kind of a huge problem.”
“Not as big as this.” She pointed to the pool of yellowish liquid at her feet.
“Are you hurt?” I’m a dick. “What happened? Did you cut yourself climbing onto the boat?”
“Worse.” She hugged her huge belly. “I think my water broke.”
Chapter 16
“Wait—What does that even mean?” Nash asked. “Like I get what the fluid is, but your water only breaks when you’re about to deliver, right?”
Maisey nodded. “Usually in twenty-four hours. But I’m only at thirty-two weeks. My baby’s too small. Plus, because of a risk of infection, I’m not supposed to even bathe, so I’m guessing a swamp walk is a bad idea.”
“Lord . . .” He raked his hands through his hair. “Yeah, I remember Hope being a wreck because she was always afraid hers would break at the grocery store. The doctor told her most women have theirs break during delivery.”
“Perfect. But I don’t have a doctor—just you.” Honestly, she’d have rather been alone. Confessing her love for him, only to be told that he essentially loved her like a sister had come as quite a blow. It shouldn’t have. She’d long ago passed on her chance to be with him, but the vivid dreams she’d been having told another story. Reliving their first time had brought everything rushing back. He’d been her rock, supporting her through each of life’s blows. It hadn’t mattered if sh
e’d flunked a geometry test or her car wouldn’t start or her mom caught her dad cheating again. Regardless of the circumstance, Nash was always there—until he wasn’t. And she’d been forced to rely on herself. It hadn’t been an easy transition, but she’d done it and thought herself better off having learned the skills. Then Vicente had come along, and she’d leaned on him. Why was she now once again turning over her power to Nash? It made no sense.
It does if you never stopped loving him.
She bit her lip through the rising pain of what she now knew wasn’t a cramp, but a contraction, then glanced up to find Nash staring. “On the plus side,” he said, “I’ve been to a lot of places where having babies in grass huts is normal, so I know we theoretically can do this. It’s not ideal that your little guy is small, but we’ve got this. Don’t worry, okay?”
“Sure.” Easier said than done.
“Sit tight. I’m going to work on the engine. Hopefully, it’s an easy fix—a loose wire or spark plug.”
Whatever. She was done. Allowing herself to be wrapped in the fantasy of what she and Nash once shared had been a mistake. She’d soon be a single mom, which meant she no longer had the luxury of lingering in the past when, like it or not, she was barreling toward her future.
A low humming on the horizon caught her attention. A boat?
Maisey grunted, pushing to her feet, shading her eyes from the already bright sun. An ancient Wellcraft was barely visible, but coming closer.
“Hey! Hey!” She crossed her arms over her head, hoping to draw the driver’s attention.
“What the hell are you doing?” Nash practically ambushed her, dragging down her arms, and jerking her beside him.
“Unlike you, I’m getting us rescued.” She struggled free.
“You don’t even know who that is,” he said when the boat came close enough for them to clearly identify a man and woman on board. “They could have ties to Vicente.”
“Hey!” Freed from Nash’s hold, Maisey waved all the harder. “Over here! Help!”
“Are you crazy?” He fought her again. “I know you’re pissed, but you’re not being smart.”