“I’ll take you to Lefty, get you some pills,” he offered.
I closed my eyes.
God, humiliating.
I couldn’t even afford birth control.
“Clara, honey, look at me.”
I opened my eyes. “What if I’m pregnant?”
“Gotta say, Kristy and I tried for about a week before she got knocked up both times.”
Oh no.
Of course.
Of course!
Of course he had superior, take-no-prisoners swimmers.
God!
I felt my eyes get wide and my heart start to pound.
Buck grinned. “We only had one night so maybe you’re golden.”
“How far is the drop off the deck and what do you think my chances will be that it will kill me, straight out, rather than put me in a coma after which I’ll wake up and have to endure a year of painful physical therapy before I can move a thumb?”
Buck’s grin became a smile and then he pulled me closer.
“If you’re knocked up, we’ll deal. Until we know, we’ll use other precautions. You’re not, Lefty’ll get you on the pill. Is that a plan?”
Yes, it was a plan.
Of course, it was a plan.
I stared at him.
How could he be so calm about this?
“How can you be so calm about this?”
“Because we don’t know if there’s anything to get wound up about. Until we do, there’s no point getting wound up.”
Was he serious?
We weren’t talking about an error in calculating the balance of a checkbook for an account that started with a balance that was healthy so it could take the hit of not carrying a one or even a five.
We were talking about possible pregnancy.
This occurring between two people who, sure, were living together.
But we barely knew each other.
Heavens, we’d only had one night of intimacy!
So we actually barely even knew each other biblically.
“Are you serious?” I demanded.
He ignored my question and stated, “In the meantime, we just gotta play it smart.”
Oh God.
I closed my eyes again and this was a mistake. I knew it when I felt his bristly lips on mine.
I opened them to see his eyes were very close.
“Sucks, babe, love the feel of you. Don’t want anything between you and me. We gotta get you on the pill.”
It was then my brain made the unfortunate decision to wonder if he loved the feel of Nails and he didn’t want anything between him and her.
Which would mean whoever she shared a bed with would be sharing a bed with me.
Oh God!
“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex,” I suggested, and his face moved back an inch.
“Come again?”
“Maybe we shouldn’t have sex,” I repeated.
“Now, babe, that isn’t funny,” he said in a very firm, very unamused way.
Okay, I needed to try something else.
“Or use condoms all the time, for added protection, even when I’m on the pill.”
“Still not funny,” he returned.
I bent my neck and looked down at my margarita.
I could be pregnant. I shouldn’t be drinking.
Oh God.
I pushed back against his arm and sat in my chair muttering, “Like I need one more thing to worry about.”
His arm was still around my shoulders, but it became a hand massaging the back of my neck.
“Clara, honey, listen to me.” I looked at him and he carried on, “There’s nothin’ to worry about until there’s somethin’ to worry about. Drink your drink. Relax. And remember, I promised to have your back.”
“Right,” I whispered.
“Right,” he repeated, again in that very firm way.
I sighed.
I needed to call Lorie. Or Minnie. Or Pinky. I needed biker babe advice.
“I need to call one of the girls,” I blurted.
“You need to loosen up, drink your marg and sit out here with me. Tomorrow, you can call one of the girls.”
It was then I realized he was very dictatorial. He issued a lot of orders and told me what to do often.
Then again, he was also usually right and now was no different.
I didn’t need to mess up Lorie, Pinky, or Minnie’s Saturday nights with this (possibly) dire news.
And anyway, he was right about something else.
I had enough to worry about. I didn’t need to worry about stuff that might not happen.
I sighed again, did what I was told and sipped my margarita.
Then something occurred to me.
I turned my head to see he was surveying the landscape and asked, “When did you do this recon?”
“The other night.”
“What other night?” I pushed.
“Don’t know,” he replied. “Thursday, maybe.”
Thursday?
He’d waited since Thursday to bring this up?
“Is that why you asked me if I wanted children yesterday?”
“Yep,” he told the view.
My heart started beating fast again. “So you were attempting to ascertain if I’d want to keep a child we may have created?”
He turned his head to me. “Babe, do you listen to me?”
“Why would you ask if I wanted children if you weren’t trying to find out if I wanted children?”
My voice was rising.
“You need to let it go,” he ordered.
“You need to answer my question,” I fired back.
His fingers massaging my neck stopped massaging and just squeezed.
“Then, yeah, Toots, I wanted to know if you wanted kids because I wanted to know, if I knocked you up, which way you’d lean. And, even though you look about ready to have a coronary, I’ll tell you where I stand on that. You got my kid inside you, it wouldn’t make me happy if you wanted to get rid him. You and me, we’d make a gorgeous kid.”
That’s when I actually started hyperventilating.
Buck either didn’t notice or didn’t care because he kept talking.
“And, gotta say, Toots, last night, the way you took care of Tatie, means today I would be even less happy if you got rid of my kid. You’re gonna make a great mom.”
Gonna?
I didn’t speak because I was experiencing the odd sensation of choking on nothing.
It didn’t seem like Buck could shut up, and I liked listening to him. He had a beautiful voice. And most of the time he used it to say good things.
But right now, I needed him to shut up.
“Also gotta say, seein’ you take care of Tat, how you are with Gear, how he is with you, and my son is friendly, but he’s not stupid. He goes cautious, especially when shit is important. But he blatantly likes you. After the shit went down with Kristy and the shit she’s pullin’ now with the kids, wouldn’t suck havin’ a kid and raisin’ him…with you.”
When shit is important.
Wouldn’t suck, havin’ a kid and raisin’ him…with you.
Right.
I needed lots and lots of oxygen because I was going to pass out.
Buck watched me breathe.
Then he asked, “Do you need CPR?”
“No,” I panted.
He grinned.
Then his hand went away from my neck but only so his arm could go around my shoulders and pull me close, tucking me under his arm. His eyes went back to the scenery and he sipped his beer.
Okay, it couldn’t be avoided.
I had to get into it.
So I deliberated quickly about how to get into it, and then I got into it.
“Considering your two children are right now in the house behind us, I know you weren’t a virgin before you and I…” I paused to find the right words, “enjoyed each other.”
Buck looked from the view to me, and his lips were tipped up as he said, “Correct.�
��
Right.
I was out of words.
Therefore, to get to the point, I asked leadingly, “Sooooo…?”
Even if we were not far apart, he still managed to lean toward me.
“You and me, baby, unexpected. Out of hand. Off the charts. I don’t fuck around with that shit. Ever. Even with you, if I’d thought you’d been getting around, that would have dawned on me and I would have worked in a glove. But you told me you’d sworn off men. So in that department, you got nothin’ to worry about. I take pains to keep clean.”
Well then.
If that was the case (and I had no reason not to believe him), then if we were non-exclusive, our little snafu might not have even more calamitous ramifications.
It was thin, but at least it was one good thing to hold on to.
I nodded to him.
Buck touched my nose with his lips and returned his attention to the view.
I followed his gaze and stared at the landscape thinking I’d managed to survive foster care, Rogan and Esposito, but I was still making all the wrong moves.
Alternatively, maybe they were the right ones.
I mean, Tatiana’s (somewhat understandable) attitude aside, it was without a doubt West Hardy made beautiful children.
Then I sipped my margarita and prayed, for the very first time, I got my period…and soon.
Another boy, a little one, with Buck’s thick hair and his beautiful eyes hit my mind’s eye and an entirely unhinged thought about the return of my monthly friend entered my head.
Because maybe I should pray for…
Not.
“We can watch somethin’ else,” I heard Gear say quietly.
“I wanna watch this,” I heard Tatiana put in, not as quietly.
“Clara isn’t into it, Tat, it’s put her to sleep,” Gear returned, again quietly.
Earlier, Buck and I had come in and both the kids were in armchairs watching television.
I put my empty margarita glass in the dishwasher (possible Hardy Tot inside me had had enough tequila for one night), Buck got another beer and we headed to the couch.
I tucked myself on the opposite side of him and stayed tucked there for point-two-five seconds after Buck sat in his normal place.
Then his arm shot out.
Fingers wrapping around my wrist, he yanked me to him and settled me in my usual position with my cheek to his thigh. About point-one-five seconds later, I felt his fingers in my hair.
I avoided both Gear’s and Tatiana’s eyes and glued mine to the TV.
A little over an hour later (I knew it was an hour because I’d managed to watch an entire program), I fell asleep.
Now, my eyes were closed, my fingers curled around Buck’s thigh, I was still mostly sleeping, but their conversation had penetrated my doze.
“She does this,” I heard Buck rumble behind me.
“What?” Gear asked.
“Every night, she crashes in front of the TV. Watch what you wanna watch. Toots don’t give a shit. Television is a tranquilizer. She’s good,” Buck answered.
“All right, cool,” Gear muttered.
After that I heard nothing but the TV.
And after that, I slipped from my semi-conscious doze back into sleep.
I woke up again when Buck lifted me from the couch.
I slid my arms around his shoulders and dazedly looked around.
Moonlight was glowing through the windows, there were no lights on, and both Gear and Tatiana were gone.
I pressed my forehead into West’s neck.
“See,” Buck’s voice rumbled all around me in a way I liked, “you get tired, baby…cuddly and sweet.”
“Mm,” I mumbled and then his chuckle rumbled all around me in a way I also liked.
He set me on my feet on my side of the bed, and I immediately started to disrobe. Jeans down and off. Librarian blouse (this one fuchsia pink with little ruffles on the cap sleeves) unbuttoned and thrown aside. I turned to the bed wearing a bra and undies in order to reach under the pillow to get my nightie.
I didn’t make my destination.
Buck’s hands were at my hips. They turned me then slid over my behind and down to my upper thighs where he lifted me up, his hands sliding more, spreading my legs.
Automatically, I clamped them around his still-jeans-clad hips and my hands went to his bared shoulders.
My eyes also went to his.
“Buck, the kids.”
“Asleep and they sleep deep.”
“But, Buck—”
His mouth hit mine. “Baby, not waitin’ any longer. Fuckin’ you.”
With that, I was on my back in bed, my head on the pillows, Buck’s tongue in my mouth.
And I wasn’t sleepy anymore.
Buck did not lie, he wasn’t waiting. He was kissing me, deep and wet, and his hands were all over me. It didn’t even have the chance to start. It went from nothing to all revved up and ready to go in seconds.
To prove that point, suddenly, my bra was gone, and Buck’s mouth was at my breast, his fingers toying with my other nipple, rolling and gently pulling as he sucked it deep in his mouth.
My back arched and my hands slid into his hair.
God.
Unbelievably fantastic.
He did this for a long time, alternating back and forth, fingers and mouth, mouth and fingers, until I was squirming under him, my hands going anywhere I could touch, feeding my own need by feeling the power of him under my fingertips.
His hand left my nipple and went to my panties. He didn’t push them down. He grabbed my panties and yanked them up, rough and tight, causing friction and surprising but delicious pressure exactly where I wanted it.
My neck arched, a quiet moan slid from my throat and I lost my mind.
I planted a foot in the bed and rolled him to his back.
Then I went after him.
Hands, mouth and tongue on his neck, his collarbone, down…his nipples…I traced the Gear on his pectoral with my tongue and I did it slow, savoring the taste of him. Down…fingers gliding along his sides, tongue exploring his abs…
Down…
He unbuttoned his jeans and I slid off him, pulling them down his legs. He opened and cocked his legs and I rolled between. I took his cock in my hand then I took it in my mouth. My eyes went to him to see him on his elbows watching me, his gaze dark, hungry. He liked what he was seeing, what he was feeling, what I was doing, and he didn’t mind me knowing it.
God, beautiful.
I gave him all I had to give, sucking, licking, stroking with my hand, sometimes all at once, most of the time watching him watching me, and I was really, really getting off on it.
“Jesus, fuck, Toots, your fuckin’ mouth,” he growled low, and I dropped my gaze and sucked him deep. And when I did, I sucked him hard.
“Fuck,” he growled again then I felt him move, his hands under my arms.
My mouth released his cock and he tossed me to the side, yanking my panties down my legs.
He moved again, reaching to the nightstand, but I straddled him. I was ready, I needed him and I wasn’t going to wait. I had to have him.
One hand at his chest, I pushed him down, the other between us, wrapping around.
“Clara, baby, hang on—”
I guided him inside and ground down.
Amazing.
My head shot back, and I moved, riding him fast, taking him deep.
His hand went between my legs, thumb pressing in, rolling.
Oh God.
I clamped down on my moan, head falling back, going faster.
Buck curled up, and his hand wrapped around my neck, tipping it bent.
“Eyes on me when you’re ridin’ me.” His voice was thick as it rumbled.
“Yes,” I whispered, trying to focus, feeling it coming.
His thumb rolled.
“God, Buck,” I breathed.
“Let go, baby,” he ordered, his thumb rolling again as I slid him
all the way inside.
My hand curled around the side of his neck, my other hand was on his chest, my eyes focused on his.
“I love the feel of you. Love it,” I whispered. “You deep inside me.”
I got these words out right before my head shot back, and it overwhelmed me, strong, overpowering, long-lasting and outstanding.
But I’d barely started climaxing when he flipped me to my back, wrapped my legs around his hips, took my mouth so my whimpers filled his, and pounded hard, his cock driving into me, his grunts mingling with my mews, powering down my throat.
I wrapped my arms around him and tightened all four limbs.
“That’s it, baby,” I muttered against his bristly lips. “Fuck me.”
He fucked me, he did it hard, then he did it harder, and then his lips ground down on mine as he thrust deep, once, twice, three times, four, five groaning into my mouth.
He stopped, planted to the root, and his tongue slid inside. I suckled it and slipped my fingers into his hair, showing him he could have my mouth, it was all his.
He took what I gave and then took more.
Eventually, he ended our kiss, lips sliding down to my jaw, my neck, his tongue touched my earlobe then he lifted his head and looked down at me.
“Gotta do somethin’ about you lettin’ go,” he whispered, and my head twitched on the pillow.
“Sorry?”
“Babe, you hold on. Your pussy’s ready way before you give it what it wants.”
I stared up at him.
Then I repeated, “Sorry?”
He grinned down at me then dipped his head and ran his lips along my jaw to my ear.
“I can feel you, when you’re ready to come, but you don’t let go. You hold back.” He nipped my earlobe before he surprised me by admitting, “Wrecks a man’s control.”
“Pardon?” I asked the ceiling.
His head came up and he was smiling.
“Every time I’ve fucked you, babe, it’s taken all I got not to come before you. You gotta learn to let go.”
“But,” I blurted, “I don’t want to. If I do, then I lose you being inside me and I like you inside me. I like it when we’re connected. I like it a lot.”
After I said that, his face changed, his body went still, and he stared at me in a way that made my face get hot, my belly get warm, and my heart start to pound.
After what felt breathtakingly like years (but was, sadly, merely seconds), he dropped his head and kissed my nose before he pulled back half an inch.
Still Standing Page 20