Chloe's Donor

by Ferruci, Sabine

  “That might have been acceptable until today, but once I saw you walk into that conference room, I jettisoned Plan A.” When she looked confused, he elaborated. “The Jerking-Off-for-Four-Months Plan.”

  She swallowed visibly. “And Plan B?”

  “That would be the Worship-a-Fertility-Goddess Plan.”

  Interestingly, the warm glow on her face and neck grew brighter, and she didn’t meet his eyes. “What makes you so sure I want to be worshiped by you?”

  The flush on her skin and the soft intake of breath when he drew close were just a few of the clues. Chloe wanted him, all right. Maybe not as much as he ached to lose himself in her hot mama body, but it was enough to take a gamble. His buddies didn’t call him Big Dick Gallagher for nothing. “If you really give the relationship an honest shot while we’re away, and it doesn’t work out, I’ll back off the sex issue and come to some kind of reasonable custody arrangement with you.”

  She studied him suspiciously. “You’re making a major concession without me risking much of anything.”

  He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across the delicate skin of her wrist. Her pulse jumped a satisfying notch. “Your risk is that you’ll decide that sex will be a good thing.” He’d make sure of it.

  He took the glass from her hand and set it on the end table. She didn’t balk when he touched her cheek with his hand. In fact, as he eyed her wide mouth and leaned closer, her breath caught and her golden eyes widened. “I think if you’re honest, you’ll admit that we don’t seem to be immune to each other.”

  He gave her a chance to object and felt a surge of satisfaction when she allowed him to brush his lips across hers. He cradled her face in his hands while he nibbled and sucked on her lower lip, gratified to hear a soft moan. When he felt her fingers touch his chest, he lowered one hand to explore her ear, delighted to hear the tinkle of her earrings before he stroked her neck over her rapid pulse.

  Chloe’s hand moved up his chest and around his neck. Dev had to rein himself in as he deepened the kiss, dueling with her tongue. What he really wanted to do was scoop her luscious body onto his lap and pull her onto his rock-hard cock.

  He restrained himself from that primitive instinct, but he couldn’t resist something else he’d craved from the moment he’d seen her walk into that conference room. He placed his hand softly over her lower abdomen. It was incredible that his baby – his flesh and blood – was growing inside this gorgeous woman.

  Chloe sucked in a breath and leaned back from him, misty eyed and flushed. “Um, that’s not the usual progression of a man’s hand.”

  He kissed her lips again. “It makes you unbelievably sexy.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I feel like a mobile home and I look like a blimp.”

  “You are so, so wrong.” Dev lifted up her shirt to expose the soft skin of her belly. Her skin sparkled with some kind of faint glitter that was specially designed to suck the blood straight to a man’s cock. He placed both hands on her abdomen before lowering his head to kiss and nuzzle her skin with his face. She smelled like lavender and lemon and sin. When her hand touched his hair, he growled his approval and slid his fingers beneath the elastic waistband of her skirt

  His tongue followed his fingers as he pushed the elastic down to expose her entire lower belly, making himself stop at the first glossy curl he unveiled. His baby made a soft mound below her belly button that he could easily encase in two of his hands. He settled soft kisses over her lush, fertile belly while she ran both hands over his short hair. He could smell her arousal.

  “God, I didn’t know I could feel like this,” he murmured, a little shaken by the intensity of his need. Jesus H. Christ. His fingers were actually trembling. His erection was pounding with impatience. He had to keep it together if he hoped to bind this woman the only way he knew how -- with passion.

  And passionate she was. As he turned his head to look at her, he was dazzled by her responsiveness. Her head was thrown back with eyes closed, lips parted, a delicate flush traveling from her face to the exposed skin of her chest. He knew that if he brushed the swollen nipples pushing against the gauzy blouse, or if he slid his fingers a few inches further south, she would come apart.

  He reached for her face with his hands. “You are so beautiful, Chloe.”

  She opened her eyes and blushed as she realized how far he’d taken her. “You’ve made your point.”

  He scooped her over onto his lap and pulled her to his chest, making sure she could feel his throbbing cock. “For both of us.”

  After a few minutes, he pulled back and met her wary gaze. “Will you come stay with me? It’s quiet and secluded – a good place for two people to just be.” Please, God.

  “You take a lot of your pregnant women there?”

  He tapped her nose. “You’ll be the first female to cross the threshold.” He put his hand back on her warm belly. “Do you know if it’s a girl or boy?”

  “Not yet. Do you care?”

  “Nope. Healthy is what I want.”

  He lifted her back on to the couch and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ve got a few things I need to go take care of. Give me your keys so I can get your car back to you. I’ll come by and get you around ten tomorrow morning.”

  “I’m not going to travel with a perfect stranger into the hills of North Georgia without a mile-wide trail of breadcrumbs.” She bit her lip while she rummaged in her bag for her keys. “As much as I hate to tell anybody about this crazy situation, I’m going to ask my brother to be here tomorrow to meet you. He’ll need the address and phone number of your cabin.” She shook her head. “Knowing Jay, he’s also going to want to see two forms of identification and take your fingerprints.”

  “No problem.” He was gong to be fucking busy for the next eighteen hours.

  Chapter Two

  Later that evening, Chloe phoned her brother with some trepidation. “Jay. It’s Chloe.”

  “What’s wrong? Are you sick?” He sucked in a breath. “Is it the baby?”

  “The baby and I are fine.” She slid down the couch and propped her feet onto her coffee table. “But it turns out that my anonymous donor isn’t anonymous anymore.”

  There was a short pause. “I guess I don’t see the problem.”

  “He didn’t give permission for his sperm to be used. And ...."

  “This gets worse?”

  “He wants me to marry him because he doesn’t want the baby to be illegitimate.”

  “That son of a bitch.”

  “Jay,” she groaned. “You of all people should understand why I don’t want a father around.”

  “Not everyone is like our pater.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the untalented kindergarten teacher. He let up on you once he found out how brilliant your art was. “

  “Uh huh. After fifteen years of hell because his son was gay.”

  “I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I forget sometimes.”

  “It’s all right. Look. Does this guy scare you?”

  “Not in the way you mean.” Ever since the early days of pregnancy had subsided, her hormones had been surging through her body, tantalizing every nerve ending. This afternoon, those hormones had spiked off the chart. She was getting wet again just thinking about him. If she gave in to the attraction, he’d own her.

  “When do I meet him?”

  “Tomorrow, just before he drags me on a two week trek into the woods somewhere north of Atlanta.”

  “Oooeee. A camper you’re not. I almost admire him if he got you to agree to that.” She heard him rustle around for a pen. “But that doesn’t mean he’s taking you anywhere until I get a handle on him. Give me every thing you know about him.”

  “Can Robert do his computer magic?”

  “Unfortunately, Robert had the bad taste to fall for a jazz pianist about a week ago. But not to worry. He still wants to ‘be friends.’ So I’ll give the ungratef
ul little shit the opportunity to make it up to me.”

  When her brother arrived the next morning, Jay looked his usual dashing self in crisp tailored gray pants topped with a long sleeved pink dress shirt. His sleeves were casually pushed up to three quarter length and his polished Italian loafers were worn, as usual, without socks.

  “It’s a good thing you don’t hang out with women,” said Chloe, “because you’d give them a major inferiority complex.”

  He laughed as he gave her a hug, then stood back holding her hands. “You have the most interesting maternity clothes I’ve ever seen. Is this the abandoned waif look?”

  “These aren’t maternity clothes. My neighbors brought me their cast-offs.” Chloe’s mostly lesbian neighbors looked after her like mother hens, a fact that Jay had probably anticipated when he’d bought this Candler Park house for her when he’d heard it was available. He claimed it was too good an investment to pass up.

  “That outfit looks like your farmer neighbor across the street.”

  Chloe looked down at the worn denim overalls that she had cut off into shorts. She liked them because they were loose around her waist, easy to take off during her frequent trips to the bathroom, and allowed her to skip a bra without attracting lots of attention. The men’s sleeveless undershirt beneath the bib was cool and soft against her tender breasts. And the way her chest had ballooned out, way outpacing her belly, she rarely got to skip the bra. Nothing under her full breasts but baby powder. It was heaven.

  Chloe poured Jay a cup of tea, then joined him at the kitchen table. “Okay. Spill it. What did Robert find out?”

  “Gallagher does security work in the army. No arrests or convictions. No outstanding parking tickets.” He sampled her tea and closed his eyes in appreciation. “How do you always get it to taste so good?”

  “Patience.” Something she didn’t feel when it came to news on Dev Gallagher. She played with a strand of hair that had slipped from the clips holding it on top of her head in a pile. When Jay still didn’t speak, she played with the bent metal ear rings she wore for courage, and was soothed by the soft jingle as they bumped against the Indian silver beads that hung beside them.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Jay. This is not the time to mess with your little sister. There has to be more.”

  His brown eyes twinkled as they peeked over her china teacup. “Sorry. He was married once when he was twenty, it lasted two years.”

  “That’s it?”

  “He’s got a brother in the Atlanta area. Runs a small construction company. Good reputation.” He finished his tea. “Looks like Gallagher did a year at Georgia Tech before he quit to join the army. He blew out his SATs but apparently got bored with college.”

  The fact that Dev was smart did not surprise her in the least. “Any artistic talent?”

  “Nothing obvious, but I still don’t get your obsession with that.”

  “Well, it doesn’t really matter anymore, does it?” She’d hoped that the family talent that had skipped her would somehow be passed on to her child with a little help from the donor’s genes. That way her child might get more of her parents’ attention than Chloe had ever managed. The folks drove her crazy but they were the only grandparents her baby would have – at least the only ones she knew about. Before she could dig for more details, the doorbell rang.

  “Stay put,” said Jay. “I’m going to whisk him away to your back porch and have a little boys’ chat. I’ll bring him in when I’m satisfied.”

  She had no idea how Dev Gallagher would react to Jay. “I’m not so sure that’s a good ...."

  “Not to worry, Sis. I’ll have him eating out of my hand.”

  * * * *

  Dev was surprised and not a little pissed when a GQ guy opened Chloe’s door, but he relaxed when he saw the black hair and familiar brown eyes. “You must be Chloe’s brother.” He put out his hand. “Dev Gallagher.”

  “Jay Simon.” Jay dropped his hand and walked outside. “Let’s mosey on out to the back porch for a little tête a tête.”

  Dev squelched an unwelcome burst of nervousness. Chloe is not your junior prom date, asshole. When they sat in the bright yellow Adirondack chairs, Dev had to ask. “Is this where you threaten to beat the shit out of me if I hurt her?”

  “Is this where you describe the ways you could whip my fairy ass if I try?”

  Dev smiled and put his head back, staring at the hanging plants that surrounded the perimeter of the porch and the ceiling fan that created enough of a breeze to keep the area habitable. It felt great to prop his right foot up on the footstool and give his knee a break. He had pushed it too hard this morning.

  “The only thing that interested me when you opened the door was that you weren’t competition,” said Dev, and then put in a quick addendum. “And that you weren’t an asshole terrorist. I could care less about your private life.”

  “So, tell me, Sergeant Gallagher, are you going to hurt her?”

  “Call me Dev. Or B.D.”

  “Actually, I guess I shouldn’t call you Sergeant. I understand Operator is the preferred designation in Delta.”

  Jesus. Dev slowly sat forward with his hands on the knees of his jeans. He removed his sunglasses and looked at Jay more closely. “You’re an artist. Oils. Pastels. Mostly landscapes.”

  Jay raised an eyebrow. “Are you interested in commissioning a piece of work?”

  “No. I want to know if you developed this fantasy from inhaling paint fumes.” Dev’s file was not available through routine army channels.

  “First of all, you don’t want to peel off even the first layer of my fantasies. But it’s no secret that you and your men just left desert hills and hot canteen water.” He smirked. “For the record, though, the only sand in my fantasies involves balmy oceans and a pina colada.”

  Before Dev could correct him, Jay continued on. “Secondly, the gay community is like a small town. And finding the best in certain professions .…”

  “ ... like hacking?”

  “ ... is not that hard. Besides,” Jay continued, “you have excellent hacking resources of your own, n’est pas?”

  Now that was a subject Dev was going to avoid big time. “Let’s say for the sake of argument that your theories are in the ballpark.” He tapped his bum knee. “I may be looking at a career change.”

  His knee would slow him down in Delta, which pissed him off to no end. But the real concern was whether he was too disillusioned and ... face it, Devlin ... too damn scared of dying. When the fear had struck about a year ago, he had ignored it. He’d thought he’d mastered it. Toughed it out. His arrogance had nearly cost him his leg on his last mission. He hated the thought of leaving Delta, but he didn’t want to put himself or anyone else at risk.

  Jay Simon stood up and pinched off a few spent blossoms on the red petunias exploding from a basket in front of Dev. “So tell me. Is Chloe -- and your baby -- a step along the path of this mid-life career crisis?” He picked up a spray bottle and spritzed the plants, then looked down at Dev. “Or are they the solution?”

  Good fucking question. He blew out his breath. “All I can tell you is as long as she’s with me, I’ll take care of her. I’d never hurt her. And I’ll always provide for the baby.”

  “Providing is a nice fatherly gesture, but from what I’ve seen, I‘d say that being there is the number one key to success.”

  “Yeah, well I haven’t ever done long-term.” Not that he hadn’t tried. When it came to inspiring extended devotion from a woman, Dev had clearly not acquired the proper skill set. He was fucking clueless.

  Jay picked up a watering can with a big daisy on the front and moved to the corner of the porch to water a basket of impatiens. “I need to know how to get hold of Chloe while you’re gone.”

  He’d thought about that. “I don’t hand out my address to too many people.”

  “I imagine not. Perhaps a phone?”

  “No cell towers nearby.
”

  “Would you suggest I contact your brother? Is his home or his construction business the best place to reach him?”

  “My brother would be likely to give my GPS coordinates to Al Qaeda if I shared my location with him.”

  “Ah. A close family. I knew we’d find something in common.”

  “I’ll get you a phone.” The communications and Intel groups were going to go apeshit anyway over Jay’s ability to ferret out info. “A guy’s going to probably drop by and have a little chat about these theories you have about my work. I’ll have him bring a SAT-phone. He’ll have a number where you can reach me.”

  Jay smiled. “I’ll have the welcome mat out.”

  “Are we done here?” Dev hadn’t been handled this well by anyone since the psych interview during Delta Selection.

  “Yes. I believe Chloe has some excellent decaf chai waiting for us.” He shooed Dev ahead of him to Chloe’s back door.

  Dev reached for the door handle, then turned around and met Jay’s eyes. “About the guy I send with the phone. Introduce him around your small community here.”

  Jay’s eyes narrowed. “Is this your idea of a sick joke or is he .…”

  “I don’t ask,” interrupted Dev. “And he doesn’t tell.”

  * * * *

  Chloe got five steps inside the one room cabin before reaching a decision. “There’s no way I’m going to be able to stay here.”

  Dev froze behind her, midway through the door, holding a couple of green duffels and a cooler. “I guess I thought you’d stick it out a little longer before you decided you couldn’t stand me.”

  “If you tell me you have air conditioning, I’ll reconsider.”

  He looked relieved, then let the screen door slam as he carried his load over to a counter with a few overhead cabinets that she supposed was the kitchen corner of the room. “It’s not that hot up here.”

  “Said the non-pregnant half of the couple,” she muttered.

  He started putting groceries away and threw his bags by the sole bed in the other corner of the room. “I’m going to get the rest of the stuff from the car.”