Keeping His Secret: A Secret Baby Romance

by Kira Blakely

  Surprisingly, she pushed me off and rolled onto the top of me. Grabbing the lotion, she squirted an ample amount into her hands and once again, began stoking my hardening cock, taking care not to get lotion on my tip. That, she reserved for her questing tongue, flicking over it until I felt the semen rising. She pumped me harder and faster, and I exploded once again, this time into her mouth and down her throat. She held it in her mouth and then licked my body, spreading my juice between us. “I want you so badly,” she whispered over me. I knew she was still tender, but I put my hand between her legs and cupped her pussy—no pressure or separation, just a possessive covering. Lilly sighed with contentment and settled between my opened legs, her head lying on my inner thigh as she explored my penis with her fingertips. She traced the veins and tugged at the tiny hairs, circling her fingertip around the circumference.

  “Soon, sweetheart. You just let me know.”

  We fell back to sleep that way until a knock at the door brought us to our feet and into robes. She padded to the door and opened it. Mary was there, holding Jinx. “I thought it might be good for you to feed him at your breast this morning,” she said. “It’s a good way to wean him over the long term and get relief for yourself.” She didn’t seem the least bit surprised that we were sharing a bed or both stood there with tousled hair and a deer-in-the-headlight look on our faces. Lilly nodded and gently took the baby, going back to sit on the bed. Mary nodded too, pulled the bedroom door closed, and left.

  I headed back to the shower, and when I returned, Jinx had been surrendered once again to Mary, and Lilly was fast asleep in the maelstrom of covers that was our bed. I smiled, dressed quietly, and left her.

  I was at peace.

  Chapter 28

  Lilly

  “What do you mean you don’t want me going back to work?” I felt anger making me hot, and Bolt’s stance, his feet planted wide, meant he clearly thought he was in control. He could not have been further from the truth.

  “I just think it would be better if you let it go, Lilly. You don’t need the money, and being exposed to all those people—there’s no telling what kind of bugs you could bring back to Jinx.”

  “Oh, now don’t go there. You think there aren’t any virus-carrying gentlemen at your country club, or the grocery, or the restaurant where we go all the time? Those places are infested with things, and since when are you afraid of a little bug?”

  I knew he was digging deep for a reason to keep me at home. It wasn’t that I totally disagreed with him, but he was making the decision for me, and that I resented. I’d been working all my life, and while it might not have been a glamorous career, at least it was mine and I had it to fall back on.

  Bolt ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Let’s talk about a compromise, shall we? How about a different career? Maybe something you could do from home? You’re a graphic designer. Why not go freelance and put your talents on the open market?”

  That was dirty pool. He knew I’d love nothing better, but now that he’d suggested it, it would let him win the argument if I agreed. That wasn’t going to happen. “I know what you want, Bolt Symington. You want to control me.”

  I saw the words hit him like a razor had slashed his face. Control was exactly what he hated the most, and I’d just used the word. He threw a small vase on the foyer table across the room, and it shattered onto the tile. It hadn’t come close to me, but his anger was shooting sparks across the room all the same.

  “That’s what you think of me, after all this time?” he shouted.

  I heard a bedroom door shut upstairs and Mary’s soothing voice cooing to the baby. Mrs. Polk was busily slamming pots around on the counter. I knew they were listening to every word but wanted to appear otherwise.

  “You’re making a spectacle of yourself. Calm down.” I turned my back and walked toward the family room. He grabbed my arm and pulled me upstairs into our room and slammed the door.

  “Sit down and listen to me,” he ordered, his voice tight. “What is it that makes you think I want to control you? That’s not me, and you know it.”

  “You want things your own way!” I accused him.

  “That’s what you call control? You silly woman—it just means that I want more of what we have. I want more time with you, with Jinx, and I want us to behave like a family. That’s not control—that’s protecting what is most precious to me.”

  I wanted so badly to throw a comment about his father at him, but even I knew when to stop. His black eyes were blazing and his chest heaving with angry gasps. “You don’t own me, Bolt.” I held out my hand. “You see a ring on that finger?”

  His face melted. “Is that what this is all about? Oh my god, Lilly. I would marry you in an hour if you’d have me. Don’t you know that? What do you think all this is about?” He held out his arms to include the bedroom and the baby’s room.

  “I didn’t say that.” I was choking on my own words. My heart was ripping in half. I was fighting with the person I loved most in the world besides our son, and I was trying to win! What the hell was the matter with me? I knew. I was scared. I was scared because of what I didn’t know. There were those black gaps in the timeline when he was gone and cut me out of his life entirely. I couldn’t live in those gaps—and I couldn’t expose Jinx to that kind of uncertainty. I wanted stability. I wanted someone who wouldn’t leave me.

  The truth hit me in the face. I was afraid of being abandoned, the same way my parents had climbed on that plane, never to come back. They left without saying goodbye, and I’d waved to them and wished them to have a wonderful time. I’d driven them to the airport—to their own deaths!

  That was when I realized why Natalie hated me. She blamed me. She blamed me for sending our parents on their way and for being strong and stepping up when they didn’t come back. That was her job, but she’d been weak. By my stepping in, I’d kept her from dealing with her grief in a healthy way and from taking the responsibility for the both of us. I’d challenged the natural order of things. Little sisters don’t take charge. No wonder she was always searching for a way to destroy herself! She didn’t see her place in the natural order of things because I’d stolen those opportunities from her!

  Sweet Jesus, it was all coming to me now. I sank onto the bed, the waves of realization sweeping over me. I was literally gasping for air at the enormity of it all, and Bolt stood there, his face concerned at my reaction. I imagine I looked like I was having a heart attack. His posture changed instantly, and he came to me, putting his arm around me as I collapsed into a crying heap.

  “My God, Lilly, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little? Is this hormones or something? All I want is you and the baby and for the three of us to be happy together. You know I’ll give you everything you want.”

  I heard his words, and they galvanized me. “I want my own life,” I growled, emerging from my sobbing with the awareness that I was done with worrying about Natalie. I was done worrying whether she might self-destruct. I wanted my own life back.

  But Bolt didn’t hear it that way. How could he? He wasn’t privy to my inner thoughts, my aha realizations. All he heard was that I wanted a separate life.

  He stood up, pacing the room with that now-familiar gesture of frustration as he ran his fingers through his blue-black hair. “OK, Lilly. Have it your way. Have your life,” he burst out, slamming the door as he left the room. I heard his car screaming down the drive and then down the road. He was gone. I was alone. I’d gotten what I’d asked for, and it hadn’t even been what I wanted. How the hell had I gotten there?

  * * *

  So, I began reconstructing my life. I left the baby with Mary at the farm and drove to the studio. Unlocking the door, I flipped on the light, and the concrete cavity that was my supposed haven glared back at me. It was cold and foreign, ugly with its memories of bad times and fears for survival. The tattoo chair looked like it belonged to an executioner, and suddenly the designs of devils and dragons leered at
me with some sick, primeval mockery. What had I been thinking when I’d planned to bring my dear, sweet baby into this altar to darkness and perversion?

  I became angry with myself for having had such poor judgment. Not just for the plans with Jinx, but with so many things, Bolt included. Desperation causes an unwise decision-making process. There was no doubt I’d been feeling the pressure for perfection, so afraid that as the younger sister, I’d screw it all up. After all, Natalie came off the rails. We couldn’t afford for me to make any wrong moves, or we’d have been on the street. I hoped that someday Natalie and I could have that rational conversation, and that she might acknowledge what I was up against.

  In the meantime, when you realize you are on the wrong path, the right thing to do is to acknowledge it and get off. I needed to make some changes. I decided to take Bolt’s advice and turn to my graphic design and illustration skills. He was right—they would make me more flexible. I could work on a laptop anywhere and that meant that I could be there for Jinx at the important times in life.

  Excited, I sat down and turned on the computer, opening software and plugging in my tablet. I began the rudimentary foundation of a new logo and wrote some tentative copy for a website. I needed to create a larger portfolio of my work from the past, along with some examples of what I could do now. I made the bold move of going to an online source and ordering a powerful laptop—I used Bolt’s card and made the mental tabulation of adding that to the list of things I’d have to pay him back for.

  Empowered, I dug around until I found a single-edged razor blade in my drawer. The front window was emblazoned with advertisement of my tattoo services and some images. I began scraping these off, the paint forming little curls that fell to the floor. It felt right, even symbolic.

  A lean man in jeans was walking by the studio. He stopped and looked at the window, then at me. Eventually, he tried to open the locked door. I interrupted my scraping to open it. “Can I help you?”

  “Hi there. Yeah, was hoping to get a tat done.”

  I hesitated. In the spirit of new beginnings, I was tempted to send him away, but there was going to be a lot of expense in starting over, including a lack of transitional income. I couldn’t afford to turn away business. “Come on in. I have an opening, you’re in luck,” I said, pointing to the tattoo table. “Have any idea what you’re looking for?”

  He pulled out a folded piece of paper, opened it, and handed it to me. It was an illustration of a phoenix, the mythical bird that rose from the ashes to be reborn. I could identify with it. “This is what you want?” He nodded. “Nice drawing.”

  “Thanks,” he answered, rolling up his sleeve.

  “You have the copyright to this?” I asked.

  “Nope. I drew it.”

  I looked back at the paper and could see then that it wasn’t a tracing. The lines were sure and deliberate. “No kidding? You’ve got talent.”

  He laughed. “We’ll let the world decide that, but right now, I appreciate the encouragement.”

  “You an illustrator?” I put the drawing on my scanner and got it into the computer so I could darken some of the lighter shading and make it work for a tat.

  “Planning to be. I’ve been freelancing for quite a while, but I’m ready to approach some of the agencies and maybe even head out to California and try my hand at animation. It’s a growing field, you know.”

  I was nodding as I worked. “Yes, I do know,” I called over my shoulder as I finished it up. Flipping on the printer, I sent the phoenix to it and then showed it to the client. “What’s your name?”

  “Mark. Mark Fuller. Hey, you didn’t louse it up at all. You’re talented, too,” he acknowledged.

  “We’d better hope so since you’re going home with my work on your body,” I teased him and pulled up the stool to the table as I began to arrange my tools. “If that works for you, get up on the table and we’ll get started.”

  He smiled, handed back the printout and laid his tall, lean body on the padded worktable.

  “You comfortable? This is going to take a while. I want to do my best work,” I said.

  “It’s now or never,” he chuckled and nodded to me to get started. It was his first tat from what I could see. People were always a little nervous at first—unsure how to anticipate the pain they’d feel. I always tried talking to them, which seemed to help them relax.

  “So, tell me about illustration freelancing,” I cued him and he nodded and started talking. He was on the table for almost two hours. I was meticulous in the detail. For some reason, this tat held a special significance. It would be the last one I’d do, at least as a studio. I wanted it to be perfect. I wished I’d drawn the original. I might have been tempted to add my initials in tiny print between the bird’s claws.

  Finally, I felt it was done and began dabbing it clean. “Keep it clean and dry for a few days, and the redness will fade. They always look angry and swollen at the beginning,” I told him as I turned and began cleaning up my tools.

  He hopped off the table and was rolling down his sleeve.

  “By the way, I really enjoyed talking with you,” I told him. “I’ve made the decision to get out of the tat business and concentrate on what I went to school for.”

  “What was that?”

  “Graphic design and illustration.”

  “No shit? I had an idea, by the way you worked on this. I’d like to see some of your work.”

  I blushed. “It’s on your arm,” I teased him.

  “Yeah, but I mean things you drew from your own heart.”

  I looked up. He had a fresh, enthusiastic look on his face. In some ways, I could almost see myself in him—the same anticipation to get started in a new world. “Don’t have anything here. It’s all at home in portfolio cases.”

  “Yeah, I get that. I kept mine hidden for a long time, too. It’s sort of like protecting your baby.”

  I started at that. Jinx! Good god, I’d been so involved in the future, I’d forgotten about the present. I began to hurry, and he must have noticed.

  “So, how much do I owe you?”

  On an impulse, I smiled and shook my head. “Not one cent. What you shared about freelancing was worth many times that. Anyway, this is my last tat, and let’s not ruin it by making it about money. Someday I hope to be in your shoes, but for now, I think I’ll try a few of your freelancing tips and see where it gets me. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not in the least. In fact, I’ve got some clients I’ll be abandoning now. What do you say you let me buy you dinner at that place across the street, and I’ll give you some contacts. I’ll let them know you’re looking for new clients and that will give you a hand up.”

  “Wow, really? That would be truly awesome!” I was thrilled and considered that just maybe good karma was finally coming my way. “Tell you what, it’s a deal. Why don’t you go on ahead, and I’ll close up and be over in a few minutes?”

  “Works for me,” he nodded and with a wave, went out the door. I watched as his tall, lanky frame drifted across the street and went into the restaurant.

  I finished up with my cleaning and grabbed my phone. “Mary? It’s me. How is Jinx?”

  “Snug as a bug, as they say. He’s sleeping nicely.”

  “Oh, good. Listen, I’m at the studio and a customer came in for a tattoo. We’ve finished, and he’s invited me to dinner across the street. As long as Jinx is OK, I think I’ll take him up on it.”

  “Jinx is just fine,” she reassured me, and I disconnected.

  Mark smiled as I walked in and found him at the booth near the door. “Is this OK?” he asked, and I nodded.

  “It’s fine.” I took off my coat, slung my purse onto the booth bench and slid in across from him. We ordered, and then I got out a notepad from my purse. “So, tell me about these clients and what they typically look for. This is super exciting for me, I don’t mind telling you. What a coincidence that I happened to be in the studio this afternoon. I’ve been away for s
everal weeks. Just had a baby.”

  “No kidding? Well, congratulations!”

  I smiled and naturally brought up a picture of Jinx on my phone to show him.

  “He’s a cutie. Such dark eyes,” he commented, and his words stopped me mid-smile. Why had I never noticed?

  Jinx had Bolt’s eyes. He looked just like him!

  Chapter 29

  Bolton

  I sat in my office and looked out over the Louisville skyline. Kenny walked past, took one look, and must have decided I looked too stormy to bother. He nodded and kept on going.

  I was shaken from my fight with Lilly. We’d started having little nothing disagreements from time to time, but it had never scaled as high as that morning. I knew it was because she was itching to get back into the world, and with everything so up in the air between us, she was having trouble finding her feet. I thought internally she might even want me to give her walking papers, so she could leave with a clean conscience. She was wrong, though. I didn’t want her, or the baby, to leave. She could do her best to drive me up the walls, but that wouldn’t change.

  I looked around the office and asked myself how much I’d miss it if I left.

  Not one bit.

  I’d never had to work for money, so it became just a way of keeping score. I’d been driven away from something, rather than toward it. My father. I’d stuck nearby to make my mother happy, but I needed to be on my own. Just Lilly, Jinx, and me, I decided. We’d take a trip when he was old enough and keep on going until we found somewhere we wanted to live. Why not? There was no reason to stay.

  That new line of thinking improved my mood. I left my office and checked in with a few key people to make sure things were running smoothly and then went down the hall to Kenny’s office. He looked up when I tapped, and I saw that momentary flash of oh shit in his eyes before he motioned to come in. I went in and shut the door behind myself.