“I’ll be there.” I kiss her forehead. “I’ll always be there for you and the baby.”
***
She’s hot. Sweat is peppering the back of her neck and her shoulder blades. I push against her, my arm wrapped around her, my fingers working furiously to get her off.
She moves with precision, keeping the pressure just where she wants it. Her clit is swollen and ripe. I circle it slowly knowing that it’s driving her mad.
“I can’t wait to feel you inside of me.” Her voice is tempered with need and raw desire. “You’re clean. I know you are.”
My cock hardens even more. I haven’t asked for a bare fuck but I’ll take if she’s offering. I’ve never felt the sensation before of a woman’s warm wet pussy surrounding my hot flesh.
I pull her leg over my thigh so she’s open. She adjusts her hips, pushing back against me. I run my fingers over the fleshy cheek of her ass. I grip it, kneading the softness in my fist before I slide my hand to my cock.
I bring it to her pussy, and glide it along the smooth silken skin.
She tries to push back onto my dick, but I want to savor this. I want to implant every sensation in my mind.
“Don’t rush,” I tell her with my lips to her ear. “Take it slow.”
She whimpers but slows her pace. She lets me take over and I use the tip of my dick on her clit. I circle it pressing hard enough to give her what she wants but tender enough that it only prolongs the sweet, painful agony for me.
Her body squirms against me as she nears her release. The sheets are fisted in her hands, her legs moving in tandem with the waves of pleasure coursing through her. I sense when she’s near the edge and my desire takes hold.
One hard thrust and I’m inside of her. I curse when I feel her come around me. The sensation like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. I grab her hips and pump, even strokes while she rides the high of one orgasm into another.
I twist her body until I’m on top of her from behind and with an arm under her stomach to prop her up, I fuck. It’s hard, relentless and when I come inside of her and feel the release, I collapse; exhausted from head-to-toe and aching with a need that only this woman can satisfy.
Chapter 39
Chloe
I stare down at the screen of my phone.
I read the text message again and again. It’s unexpected and unwelcome. It’s also breaking the rules of the agreement that was signed just six months ago.
Call me, Chloe.
If it was anyone other than Christopher Newell, I would call, but the man has made my life hell for the past two years since he threw me out of our apartment and tried to steal most of my belongings along with my dignity.
Our divorce was complicated and tumultuous. He wanted out of the prenuptial agreement I signed when I was just nineteen.
My parents were captivated by his charm and wealth. They encouraged me to sign on the dotted line without a lawyer’s approval.
Rocco wasn’t as trusting. If it weren’t for him, I would have left the marriage penniless and despondent. He paid for a consultation with one of Manhattan’s premier family law experts and the agreement I finally did sign, gave my marriage a price tag if it ever ended.
The problem was that Christopher knew there were loopholes including a clause about me being unfaithful.
I never was.
He was the only man I was with.
I lost my virginity to him and he stole ten years as a bonus.
“Do you have a naked picture of Evan on your phone?” Gabi strolls into my office.
“What?” My head snaps up. “What did you say about a naked picture of Evan?”
She gestures toward my phone. “You’re staring at that thing. You never do that. You skim your messages, answer emails quickly and then you put it down. You’re not as attached to your phone as I am to mine.”
I place my phone on the desk hoping that the text message from my ex-husband is just a mirage and when I check back it will be gone.
“Do you need something, Gabi?”
“A hard cock and a stiff drink.” She shakes her head. “I am wound up tight today.”
I blink my eyes. “It’s only noon. I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like by the end of the day.”
She plops down into one of the chairs in front of my desk. “My mom is driving me crazy. She wants to come to New York for a weekend. An entire weekend, Chloe. That’s two full days of my life that I’ll have to give up for her.”
I’d give up years of my life for an extra hour with my mom to tell her that I love her and to thank her for every moment she devoted to me while she was alive.
“How do I get out of this? I saw her at Christmas. I don’t need another dose this soon.”
“You’re selfish,” I say quietly, hanging my head to hide my tear filled eyes. “You’re so lucky.”
She’s silent for a moment before she finally speaks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think, Chloe.”
I look up and she’s perched on the edge of the chair, her hands fisted together in her lap.
“I need my mom right now more than anything.” I wipe my hand over my face to brush away the tears. “I’m scared of what’s about to happen to me and the only person in the world who could make me feel like everything will be okay is my mom and she’s gone.”
“Chloe.” She’s on her feet and around the desk in an instant. “What do you mean? What’s about to happen to you?”
I can’t meet her gaze so I look over at the window and the light snow that is falling. “I miss her, Gabi. She’d tell me it was all going to be okay and I’d believe her.”
“I’ll tell you the same thing.” She crouches next to my chair. “Whatever it is you’re going to face it. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. I can help too if you tell me what it is.”
I shake my head as a hiccup through a sob. “I can’t.”
“Ever since you went to see Dr. Reynolds, something hasn’t been right.” Her voice quivers. “You’ve been tired and quiet. We barely hang out. I’m scared, Chloe. I’m so scared that I’m going to lose you.”
I look at her and see the tears in her own eyes. I can’t do this to her. Gabi crawled into my hospital bed more times than I can count when I was sick. She brought all my schoolwork to the hospital and read my favorite books to me. I can’t put her through this.
“Tell me, Chloe.” She rests her forehead against my arm. “Please tell me you’re going to be okay.”
I stroke the back of her head while I whisper the words, “I’m pregnant, Gabi. I’m going to be a mom.”
When she looks up and our eyes meet I don’t see fear, but joy. “You’re fucking kidding, right? This is not April Fool’s Day.”
I laugh through a stream of tears. “It’s not a joke. I got knocked up the first time I slept with Evan.”
She cradles my cheeks in her palms. “You’re happy, right? This is a good thing, isn’t it?”
I nod. “It’s a very good thing.”
She kisses my cheek before she stands. “You’re going to slay this mom thing, Chloe and if you need any help, me and my mom will be there for you every step of the way. I’m going to run and call her back. You’ll have lunch with us when she comes to visit, right?”
“Right,” I answer softly. “I’d love to see your mom again.”
Chapter 40
Evan
The early morning meetings at Roasting Point Café have ground to a halt. That’s not by design. It’s by necessity.
Work has been brutal. I’ve been pulling long shifts and taking on surgeries that I’d normally assist in with Kylie. She’s out with the flu and although the other surgeons are doing their part to pick up the slack, the brunt of the overflow has fallen square on my shoulders.
Normally I wouldn’t mind.
This is where I thrive. The rush in helping other people pushed me into this career in the first place.
I didn’t follow in anyone’s footsteps. My parents
are both plastic surgeons. Their faces and bodies are their billboards. The private practice they run in Beverly Hills keeps them close to my sister and closer yet to the celebrity clientele that they adore.
I moved across the country for college so I could choose a specialty that I wanted. The fact that I’ll never take over their practice is another nail in their coffin of disappointment.
By some miracle, maybe my son or my daughter will find worth in helping others find their inner beauty on the outside.
“How are you feeling, Mr. Peterson?” I tack a smile onto the end of that because Wilford Peterson looks like he could use it.
“Screw you.”
“You’ll have to wait at least six weeks until you engage in intimate activities, Mr. Peterson, and unfortunately for you I’m seeing someone.”
The corner of his lip darts up before it falls. “I feel like shit.”
“You look like hell.” I point out as I circle the pen in my hand in front of his face. “Your color will improve in a day or two. I take no responsibility for your attitude.”
“You’re a smart ass. Do you know that?”
“I graduated at the top of my class. “I tuck the pen back in my pocket before I adjust the drip on his IV. “I’m going to prescribe something stronger for the pain and for the sake of the nurses. It’ll knock you out for a few hours.”
“Do you have a wife?” He looks down at my left hand.
I sigh. “No wife.”
“Mine isn’t here.” He shrugs which is followed by a wince. “I thought she’d be here when I woke up.”
“She fell asleep in the family lounge an hour ago.” I point at a room across the hall from where we are. “She’s a strong woman. You’re a lucky man.”
“You gave me a few more years with her, didn’t you?” His wrinkled brow furrows. “She needs me. I can’t leave her yet.”
“I opened the clogged artery, stuck a shiny new stent in there and gave you more time with your beautiful bride. “
“There’s little better in life than a woman who loves you.” He fists the thin blue blanket that is covering him. “I’m grateful that you took care of my heart so I can take care of hers.”
I hear words of gratitude from my patients and their families on a daily basis. I’ve never grown tired of it, but when it becomes a regular part of your day, numbness sets in and it takes a conversation like this to kick you in the ass and make you appreciate life.
“I’ll wake her on my way out.” I pat his hand. “I’ll be back to see you this afternoon. Until then, keep the insults to a minimum. You’re no match for the nurses on this ward.”
He finally smiles. “I’ll be good to them. You be good to yourself and keep your hands off my wife. You’re more her type than I am.”
I laugh as I stroll out of the recovery room. “Deal, Wilf. You’ve got yourself a deal.”
***
I watch Chloe eat a sandwich. It’s pastrami on rye with extra mustard and a dill pickle on the side.
“Do you have any strange cravings yet?”
She stops mid chew to look at me. Her brows pop up before she answers once she swallows. “Nothing like that. I just eat what I normally would.”
“You’d normally down an entire bowl of soup and a sandwich at lunch?” I gesture to the empty bowl in front of her. “I had the soup too. It wasn’t good.”
She looks over at my half eaten bowl of chicken noodle soup. “You don’t appreciate the subtle nuances of the broth.”
“I don’t appreciate that this came out of a can and they’re charging us eight dollars a bowl.”
“Today is my treat.” She pats her purse. “You always pay for food. I want to pay today.”
I shake my head as I yank my wallet out of the back pocket of my pants. “I’m not letting you pay, Chloe. This meal is on me.”
“I can pay half.” She starts to open her purse and her phone chimes from within. “I have to see who that is. I have a few major cases on the go.”
“I love when you talk like a lawyer.”
A laugh bubbles from her. “If that’s the case I have a few things for you to think about.”
I inch forward so I’m closer to her. This diner is crowded but since we’re sitting in a corner booth, we’re tucked away from most of the other patrons who are most likely doing the very same thing we are and that’s having a quick lunch in the middle of the day.
“Tell me, Chloe. Talk lawyer to me.”
She leans in until her breath is skating over my lips. “Constructive discharge. Front pay and I can’t stop thinking about overtime compensation.”
“I’m hard as nails.”
Her hand slides under the table and lands on my thigh. “You’re not, are you?”
I kiss her softly as I cover her hand with mine and inch it toward the front of my pants. “I am and it has nothing to do with what you just said and everything to do with wanting to fuck you.”
She skims her fingers over the ridge of my cock. That only heightens my desire more.
The sound of a phone ringing breaks the moment. I instinctively reach down to tug mine from my pocket but Chloe has her phone out and on the table before I reach mine.
A scowl forms on her face when she sees the incoming number.
“Leave me the hell alone,” she says under her breath. “Just stop.”
“Who is it?” I arch my neck to see the screen but her hand moves to cover it.
“No one.” She presses the ignore button. “It’s no one I ever want to talk to again.”
Chapter 41
Chloe
I seethe with anger as I sit next to Evan. My jerk of an ex-husband ruined a perfectly hot moment between the man I’m falling for and me.
Evan has no idea who was calling me. For all he knows it was a telemarketer. I didn’t bother to tell him that it was the asshole that broke my heart. I’m over Christopher and I never want to talk to him again.
“We can talk about it, Chloe.”
I look at him. The playfulness that was in his blue eyes a minute ago has been replaced with concern. I hate that. I despise the fact that a simple phone call from my ex can impact anything between Evan and I.
“Or we sit here and I can watch you shake in anger.” He scratches his top lip. “I’m good either way for the next twenty minutes and then I need to get back to work.”
I glance down at my watch. The hour we had planned together has flown by. I was excited when he texted me this morning to suggest lunch. I’ve missed seeing him at the café in the mornings and even though we talk and text multiple times a day, it’s not the same as being near him.
“What kind of surgeon are you?” I ask as I slide my phone back into my purse. Ignoring Christopher has worked all week, so I’ll keep up that tactic until I’m forced to change it. “I’ve been meaning to ask for weeks but I always think of something more important to talk about and that gets pushed aside.”
He laughs. “Something more important? Give me an example of something that you thought was more important than that question?”
“Our baby,” I answer with a small smile. “We’re doing the whole relationship thing upside down. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Upside down?” He looks amused. “Clarify that for me.”
“It’s pretty obvious.” I roll my eyes. “You and I had sex and I got pregnant before our first date. Most couples have a few dates, get to know each other, fall in love and then start thinking about a baby.”
He looks at my face for a few seconds before he responds. “Do you consider us a couple, Chloe?”
I can’t tell if it’s a legitimate question or not. We’ve never talked about what’s developing between us. I know he feels something. I see it when we’re together in the way he looks at me and in the tenderness of his touch.
I’m uncomfortable answering so I take the tried-and-true approach that any good attorney would. I toss the question right back at him. “Do you?”
I wait fo
r him to press for me to answer first, but that’s not what happens.
“I do,” he says as his eyes search mine. “I consider us a couple.”
My heart flutters and even though the baby is tiny, I’m sure it can feel my joy. “I do too.”
He kisses me with his incredible mouth. His lips are soft, his breath sweet and when he breaks the kiss and looks into my eyes, I see the future that I’ve always wanted reflecting back at me.
***
I round the corner to my office after having lunch with Evan and stop dead in my tracks.
Christopher Newell is not supposed to be standing on the sidewalk in front of my office building. We agreed that I’d stay the hell away from him if he would do the same. Apparently, the man hasn’t changed at all. He couldn’t keep up his end of the bargain when he promised to love me forever either.
Physically, he looks just as he did the day he kicked me out of our apartment. He’s tall and thin. His dark hair is still peppered with just the right amount of gray thanks to his stylist’s expert touch.
He’s clean-shaven and dressed in a suit that costs more than some people’s yearly salary. Smugness surrounds him like a cloud of dust.
I draw in a deep breath and stalk toward him. I won’t back down. Whatever it is that he wants, I’ll deal with it now.
“What do you want?” I ask as I near him.
He spins on his heel to face me. “Chloe, dear, there you are.”
Dear? It was one of the many endearments he used when we were together. I used to covet those pet names until I realized that they were tools in his emotional arsenal. He knew how to control me with romance and the promise of a future.
“What do you want?” I repeat, not giving him the satisfaction of a response to his words.
He eyes me from head-to-toe. I’m grateful that I’m wearing a long coat. I can’t stand the thought of any part of him touching me, not even his gaze. “You’ll be sad to know that Bertram passed last week.”
Hush (Just This Once) Page 13