Mixed (A Recipe for Love Book 3)

by Lane Martin

  “Yes,” I purred as my head fell back. “I’m so ready.” I knew that wasn’t what he was asking when he’d asked initially, but I could tell by the way he was touching me he was as keen on the idea as I was. Maybe he thought if he gave me a hard fuck before we left, I’d relax. Honestly, I was okay with that. I let my towel fall and brought my hands to my heavy breasts. “I missed you so much last night. I need you.” Last night had been another over the top baby shower. What started with one simple invitation from another mommy to be in our birthing class had led to invitations to showers from every other person in the class, and each one grander than the one before. This mommy shit was cut throat. Me, I could have cared less, but I didn’t want my kid to be the outcast of the mommy group before she was even born. I did miss Logan last night. Our only real friends in the class, Patrick, and Nick, who are expecting a boy via surrogate, had a rooftop dinner party last night. They were distraught over my “man candy” not being able to join in the festivities, but insisted I bring along my other “gays,” Brit and her partner Sadie. Last night’s shower had been even more opulent than I’d first realized. The meal was five courses, and the chef had been flown in from Paris. Who fucking did that? Apparently, Patrick and Nick did. The cake alone was four tiers. When I was in the bathroom for what seemed like the hundredth time, I’d overheard someone say it cost fifteen dollars a slice. I’d nearly shit myself. It had been yummy, but fifteen bucks? I tried to call my sister again once I heard the astronomical price. She didn’t answer. I think she knew better. Just thinking about it was stressing me out.

  “Relax baby, let me take care of you.” He lifted my other leg on to his shoulder and bent forward. My hands went to his hair which was in need of a cut. My upcoming baby shower was the last thing I was thinking about when his flat tongue and fingers touched me. Logan fucked liked he cooked; with passion, precision, and lots of spice.

  “Oh yessss,” I cried out, thankful that the elderly woman who lived in the apartment next door was hard of hearing. If not, I was sure we would have had our share of complaints. What could I say? My man brought out the wild animal in me.

  “You taste fucking delicious.” He sucked his fingers into his mouth because he knew it drove me crazy. “Come here.” He helped me down to meet him on the floor. “I need this prime grade pussy.” The tip of his long hard cock glistened. If I weren’t so heavily pregnant, I would get on my knees and lick the pre-cum that was beaded on the tip of his of his beautiful cock off before I took him deep into my mouth. Instead, in a move that I was sure was far less graceful than I imagined I turned my back to him as I joined him on the floor.

  “Naughty girl.” Logan was a big fan of my ass, and I knew it. “I need to be inside of you.” His voice was laced with both desire and frustration as he palmed my ass. His raw need for me made me even more turned on.

  “As you wish.” I moaned as I lowered myself onto him. While we both preferred to look at each other when we made love, this wasn’t that, and we both knew it. This was a quick hard fuck before we needed to rush out of the apartment to get to the party.

  “Fuck yeah,” Logan approved of my choice of reverse cowgirl with a playful slap on my ass. I rocked onto him harder. “That’s it, baby, grip me with that sweet cunt of yours.” He took ahold of my ass and spread my cheeks. I rolled my hips, revealing in how amazing it felt. His finger circled that once taboo hole. I knew everyone would probably be surprised to know that I was pretty much an ass virgin. Or I was before Logan. It was a long story, but my dumb ass boyfriend in high school thought it would be fun, butt (lol) he had no idea what he was doing. I wasn’t ready, and he thought he could just ram into me like when he popped my cherry. Needless to say, it wasn’t fun or anything I ever wanted to repeat. So, from that day forward, my ass was a one-way exit. Logan showed me what I had been missing. Just like he did when he got me to not only like eating mushrooms but to love them. He eased me into it. Let’s just say I’m glad I never got the tramp stamp tattoo that insisted, “no entry.” I wasn’t going to last long like this. I started doing Kegel’s as I reached between his parted legs and wrapped my fingers around his balls. “Oh fuck,” we groaned in unison. I don’t know who came longer or harder, but another shower was going to be needed before we went anywhere.

  “Hey, where did you go?” Logan questioned when he swiped a stray hair from my face. I was thinking about last night again. Brit’s partner, Sadie, let out a low whistle when we arrived at the swanky rooftop where the baby shower was being held. Three long elegant tables were set with fine china and crystal, with lights hung above them. It screamed of the starlight, star bright theme. It was utterly beautiful and over the top. I mean whatever happened to paper plates from the dollar store and crepe paper streamers? But I was also thinking about how much I wished Logan was with me because he would love the view of the city, not to mention the delicious meal. I didn’t need Logan with me; I wanted him with me. He made me a better version of myself. I hoped I did the same for him. He said I did. He’d also said that when I came into his life, he started living again. It sounded crazy because he was one of the most sought-after chefs in New York City when we met, but he’d say he was just going through the motions. “Living without feeling was not life,” he’d often told me. His father had abandoned him. His mother had got sick and died just when she’d gotten sober. His brother was behind bars, where he’d put him. He theorized he was “better off feeling nothing than to ever feel that kind of hurt again.” That’s why he had the broken heart inked on his skin. He’d never wanted to forget what loving them had done to him. He’d never wanted to feel that way again. I guessed I could relate in some ways. I was always in a relationship. Even when I knew it wasn’t right or what I wanted or needed. I would pick these guys that had no power over me. No, hold on me. Why? Because loving someone so completely, the way I loved Logan, gave them the ability to hurt you. But a life without Logan was not a life worth living, so I guess you could say we both took the risk. He didn’t have the ugly reminder of his past hurt removed or covered. Instead, he had it changed like he did his mind when he saw me the first time behind his bar. He claimed it was when his heart began to beat again. I wasn’t going to lie; it still scared the shit out of me. Sometimes when I was with my sister, I’d see the sadness in her eyes, but I knew if she could go back in time, she still would have fallen in love with Declan. Maybe it was the hormones, but I found myself talking to God a lot more these days. I’d pray my child would be healthy. I’d thank him for bringing Logan into my life. I’d ask that I would be enough for my child and the man I was in love with, and I’d pray my sister, Emily, would get her happily ever after too.

  “Can’t we just say I was having contractions, so we cruised to the hospital?” Last night Brit had done nothing to ease my mind about this damn shower when she’d said, “This was nothing, you should see what Emily and Suzie are planning for our girl.” That’s exactly what I was afraid of. My sister was bad enough on her own but add to it that one her closest friends, and mine now, was one of the premier party planners in New York City. This party was going to be too much. Emily and Suzie were invited to the rooftop shower too, but they were “busy” putting the final touches on everything for my shower. Brit noticed my grimace and took my arm, “M, is so excited Libby. Just let her do this for you and our baby girl.” Somewhere along the line, my unborn daughter had become “ours.” Honestly, sometimes I was still worried I wasn’t ready to be a mother, but the idea of my baby being a part of something bigger than just me or even me and Logan, made me feel like I could do it like we could do it.

  “Do you trust me?” Logan asked just as the elevator stopped on Emily’s floor.

  I didn’t hesitate before I took his outreached hand and answered honestly, “With my life.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.” He pulled me into his arms as we stood at the door to the apartment. No, I didn’t. I pressed my lips to his. I leaned in, and our lips parted. Heat flooded my bod
y. What began as a chaste kiss quickly intensified. The door creaked open behind me, but I no longer cared about the throng of people that filled the apartment. Logan was the only thing that mattered. The catcalls from within were the only thing that stopped us.

  “Oh, my,” my mother blushed as I adjusted my shirt and Logan attempted to tame his mussed-up locks. I told you, he made me wild.

  “Mom?” I questioned. Honestly, I hadn’t expected to see her until after the baby was born. It’s not like she could just pop out from California on a whim whenever she wanted. I felt terrible after the last-minute cancellation of the reveal party. I wasn’t sure if mom would still make it out for the shower. What a great surprise.

  “You didn’t think I would miss a shower for my first grandchild, did you?” Like my sister, my mother had been nothing but supportive when I’d told her she was going to be a grandma. I didn’t know why I was surprised. She was a remarkable mom. If I were lucky, I’d be one-tenth the mother she was. After she hugged both Logan and me, I took my first real glimpse around the room. It was perfect. I should never have been worried.

  “You look good Libby, happy.” We talked on the phone and video chatted often, but this was the first time since my arrival at the party that mom and I’d had a moment to sit down and really talk. Logan and Eric were loading our haul into the car. I had no idea where we were going to put everything. I should have been more prepared since I had been to so many other showers recently, I wasn’t. Still, today was perfect. Emily and Suzie had listened to every word I had said. I shouldn’t have expected anything less from them. My first hint should have been the venue. Emily had hosted the event at her apartment instead of some lavish hotel or restaurant. Hell, Logan would have gladly offered up Swayed if she had asked. The decorations weren’t extravagant bouquets of overpriced flowers that would be dead in a matter of days. I got my paper streamers and tissue paper flowers, and don’t even get me started on the food. Mom and her best friend since high school, my “aunt” Maggie had stayed up all hours of the night cooking all of my childhood favorites. They actually kicked my sister out of her own kitchen and then proceeded to get more than a little tipsy. I wish I had seen that. And instead of filling diapers with different types of melted chocolate or blindly tasting baby food, my sister organized a paint a onesie table. It was perfect since I was known for my graphic maternity tees and for all the other baby showers I’d given onesies as a gift. I thought they were hilarious. Some brows had been raised for sure at some of the other events, but I prided myself on finding just the right one for each couple. Last night I had given Patrick and Nick one that was my all-time favorite; it had two stick figures on it. One was standing, and the other was on his knees leaning forward, the caption read “all daddy wanted was a blowjob.” I may have been a little biased, but I thought it was the best gift of the night. It was certainly the funniest. My classmates had not held back when designing shirts for my baby; I heart boobies (like my daddy), Let’s TACO bout it, I’ll have a bottle of the house white, and Future smartass just like my mommy, were some of my favorites. Patrick painted one that proclaimed, “He thinks he’s my dad” and my sister nearly lost her shit. I told her it was okay. That it didn’t bother me. I think she believed me. I was anything but fine, and as much as I wanted to stay and visit with my mom. I wanted to go home more. I wanted Logan to kiss me until I forgot my name, let alone the fact he was not, my daughter’s biological father.

  “This looks pretty good.” Eric lifted his beer and inspected our work. Brit had wanted to do this, but I’d told her it was something I needed to do. After I dropped Libby off at her baby shower, I’d had to haul ass back to the apartment so I could get all of this done before I had to go back to ooh and aah over all the pink shit we would be surrounded by. My apartment was large for New York standards, and I got a hell of a deal since Declan owned the building, but it was still just a one bedroom.

  “Do I hear a but in there?” I’d never used the dining area anyway, I didn’t even own a table and chairs, so we’d spent the last few hours transforming it. The crib and matching dresser were aged white and the bedding was a pale gray. It was soft as hell.

  “Why don’t you get a bigger place?” In addition to the new furniture, Eric and I installed safety latches on all the cabinets and covers on all the plugs. We made sure things like my television were secure. We looked like a couple of idiots crawling around the apartment trying to see things from a toddler’s point of view, but I didn’t care. It had to be done.

  “Have you met Libby?” to say she was stubborn would have been the understatement of the year. It must run in the family. She’d been paying me rent every month since she moved in. I’d been putting it in the bank for her. I didn’t need it or want it, and some battles were just not worth fighting. When the time was right, I would tell her about the money; she could do what she wanted with it. Eric didn’t answer; he simply chuckled as I placed the plush elephant I bought for my daughter in her crib. Yeah, he’d met my Libby.

  I sat in the recliner Logan got me, holding two things against my protruding stomach. The elephant he bought for the baby and the letter that had just arrived. I couldn’t help but stroke the soft ears. I still couldn’t believe he did all this for me, for us. I was so overwhelmed when we got home from the shower. All my worry had been for nothing, just like he’d promised it would be. The nursery he had created in the small dining area was more than I ever could have dreamed of. We made love on the plush new carpet under the soft light of the chandelier that now hung in place where an ugly fixture that matched all the others in the building once was. I’d cried tears of happiness as he held me until sleep found me. I didn’t understand it. He’d done so much for the baby and me, yet he wouldn’t even open the letters from his brother. They’d been coming more frequently. He’d even received a collect call from the jail, but he wouldn’t accept the charges. He’d tossed all of the letters in the trash without opening them. Wasn’t he just a bit curious? I knew this was wrong, a federal offense, but I couldn’t help myself. I had to know what it was Chris wanted from his bother. I knew if the situation were reversed, Logan wouldn’t hesitate to do whatever he could for me. It was my turn to do the same for him.

  “Do I look alright?” My raised brow must have echoed what I was thinking. Really? We were on our way to the big house, and instead of my sensible sister, I recruited Brit to play Ethel to my Lucy today. She was close to Logan and knew all the details of the case. She had lived through it with him. It was one of the reasons they were so close.

  “Don’t judge me. I’ve never been up the river.”

  “Like I have?” I rubbed my back. Unlike my partner in crime, who looked like she was about to hit Saks summer sale, I had done my research and was wearing a simple t-shirt, maternity jeans, and a pair of Chucks.

  “Okay, but remind me again why we didn’t just ask Eric to drive us.” He would have driven us anywhere, and we both knew it. He also would have told Logan where we were going, and that would have put an immediate halt to our plan. The letter I opened hadn’t given me much to go on. Only that Logan’s bother needed to see him badly. That it was imperative he speak to him and that he didn’t blame Logan for his current situation. Maybe it was the hormones or the fact that Chris was Logan’s only living relative, but it played at my heartstrings. I couldn’t just sit and do nothing. I had to go see Chris for Logan.

  “Stop you’re griping. We’re here.” The ride had been long, and my back was killing me. With just four weeks to go until my due date, I wasn’t surprised. We followed the signs leading us to visitor check-in; the sound of Brit’s ridiculous heels filled the air.

  “Inmate’s name,” the emotionless guard asked as I passed her the required documentation.

  “Christopher Wheeler,” I provided. After typing in some information, the woman finally looked at me and offered a sympathetic smile before turning her attention to Brit.

  “You’re going to have to wait out here.” She point
ed at a row of orange chairs. I didn’t know if Brit was relieved because the color coordinated perfectly with her outfit or because she wouldn’t have to face the man who had killed Johnnie, the owner of the coffee shop she and Declan frequented, in cold blood while she hid just a few feet away today. I should have been more considerate of her feelings before I’d asked her to come with me. She sank into one of the chairs.

  “I’m sorry Brit.” I crouched before her, and another twinge hit my back. “I shouldn’t have asked you to come.” A tear rolled down her perfectly made-up face.

  “I didn’t think he could hurt me anymore.” She whispered as the tears began to fall more freely. She looked me right in the eye. “If he hurts …”

  “He won’t.” I didn’t let her finish her thought. “I won’t let him.”

  “Libby Barnes.” A guard called my name. I rose and squeezed Brit’s hand. The pain in my back was getting worse. It must have been the lack of sleep. Between my daughter kicking me, my bladder, and the stress of meeting Chris, I hadn’t gotten much. I left my purse with Brit as the guard showed me into a room where we were joined by a female who searched me before showing me into another room where other inmates were already seated and talking to loved ones. The guard motioned me towards an empty table. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. What the hell was I thinking coming here? The guard must have sensed my distress. “If you need anything just put your hand up, and one of us will be right over.” She motioned to the other guards in the room. I had no doubt they could physically protect me, that wasn’t what I was worried about.

  “You’re not my brother,” Chris stated before sinking into a seat across from me. He looked exactly like an older version of his brother.