Baby I'm Yours

by Rosie Praks

  “Yes, big man. My big man.” Hunter laughed. “Now give me a high-five.”

  “That’s more like it.” Max slapped Hunter’s hand in celebration.

  Nearing midnight, Max took his leave, but Hunter was still standing there, watching Clarice eating her noodle soup.

  “It’s getting late,” Hunter said impatiently, looking at the time.

  “Yes, it is.” Clarice dropped her empty bowl into the sink. She started washing it and then put it into the dishwasher. Then she turned to Hunter, indicating maybe it was time for him to leave too.

  “So, umm, where do I sleep?” Hunter coughed out.

  “Sleep?” Clarice opened her eyes wide.

  “Yeah, where do I sleep?” Hunter nodded his head.

  “I thought you were going home. I thought you were only going to come in when you wanted to.”

  “Clarice…” Hunter laughed uneasily. “Are you pulling my leg here? When I say I want to look after our baby and look after you, do you expect me to run back to my house every single night? I’m living here, staying here to look after you.”

  “What?” Clarice had horror on her face.

  “Why do you look so shocked?” Hunter asked, surprised.

  “Because I thought… I thought…”

  Dear heaven, she was in mortal danger now. How could she be so stupid and naïve? Here she thought Hunter was going to go home every night. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

  “Then… then you sleep on the couch,” Clarice put in before Hunter could suggest anything else.

  “On the couch?” Hunter asked in disappointment. “No, not the couch, please. How about a bed? I’m good with a bed. I can even take that guest bed. Actually, your bed sounds even better.”

  “No. On the couch. If you want to stay here, then it’s on the couch or nothing at all.”

  “But if anything were to happen to you at night, how am I going to know?”

  “I’m just upstairs. It’s not like we’re miles away. Plus, if I have any problem, I’ll just call you on my phone.”

  “You’re kidding, right?” Hunter asked, gobsmacked.

  The things that came out of her mouth, it was just so unexpected. Here he thought she couldn’t come up with any more ridiculous conditions, but she had, and man, it was the most stupid and absurd condition he’d ever heard.

  “You’re crazy?” Hunter face-palmed himself. “You are absolutely crazy. Why in God’s name would we need to talk to each other via cellphones if we live in the same house?”

  “Because… because…”

  “Because what? I might jump on you and do things to you at night when you’re at your most vulnerable?”

  You’re absolutely right, Hunter. That’s what Clarice thought, but she didn’t tell him that.

  “Whatever you think, but that’s my other condition. You want to live here, so it’s the couch. Take it or leave it,” Clarice stated, before turning on her heel and walking off, leaving Hunter staring at her back.

  God, she’d gone loopy. But what was even crazier about their whole situation was that he was actually the crazier one because he’d just fallen in love with the most adorably crazy woman. One who eat noodles in a cup for all sorts of moods and weather, one who demanded he abstain from sex until their baby was born. And on top of that, she suggested they talk to each other through cellphones and stay three meters away from each other when they live under the same roof. Yep, he thought. There was no denying that fact now. He was definitely the crazier one in their relationship.

  Chapter 11

  Hunter eyed the couch like it was his long-lost nemesis. There was no way he was going to sleep on that thing again. He could still feel the pain in his neck from the last time he stayed at Clarice’s house.

  Hunter glanced at the stairs, then back to the couch again. Then a smile appeared on his face. He went to sit himself on that couch and flicked on the television. His plan could not be accomplished until Clarice was finally asleep. Oh, he couldn’t wait.

  At 12:30 a.m., Hunter almost had to cello tape his eyelids to keep them open. He was damned tired. The light from her office was still on. He assumed she was still working.

  Is she not going to work tomorrow? He himself had to report for work at Anton’s office tomorrow morning, so he would need his sleep.

  Hunter gritted his teeth and went back to the lounge. Shaking his head to stop himself from dropping off right there, he went to the main bathroom and washed his face.

  “You will not give up, Hunter. Stay strong,” he said to the mirror and slapped his cheeks a few times to wake himself.

  Walking back to the lounge, Hunter had to pass Clarice’s office. It was dark.

  Dark? Yes. It is dark. Clarice must have gone upstairs to sleep.

  Yahoo! Running back to the couch in excitement, he jumped on it and sat watching the clock.

  Fifteen minutes. He was going to give Clarice fifteen minutes to fall asleep, and then he’d put his plan into action.

  Time crawled by like a snail on a racetrack. He was damn near agitated; his eyes wouldn’t stop twitching. Once the long hand reached the fifteen-minute mark, Hunter jumped off the couch again and walked like a burglar to Clarice’s bedroom upstairs.

  Inching the door opened, he crept to Clarice’s side and then slid between the sheets.

  “Clarice,” he whispered, shaking her shoulder. “Can I sleep here for the night?”

  “What is it?” Clarice responded groggily, turning to face Hunter, her eyes drowsily opened.

  “Can I sleep with you for the night?” he again asked sweetly.

  “Oh, sure, but just stay on your side,” Clarice said, turning back to sleep.

  Really? Hunter couldn’t believe his luck. Here he’d imagined she would kick him out of her bed by now, but instead, she’d asked him to sleep next to her. Wow, what a jackpot.

  When Clarice fell back into slumber, Hunter inched closer and was about to plant a kiss when her voice froze him in place. He thought he was about to have a heart attack, caught in action like that. But the words Clarice said next blew his mind completely out the window, and his libido shot to the ceiling.

  “Kiss me, Hunter.”

  Hunter couldn’t believe his ears. Here he’d thought only to cuddle next to her until morning, but Clarice had asked him to kiss her. That was beyond unbelievable.

  Clarice still has her eyes closed, but she’s talking to me. Is she sleeping or awake? he wondered.

  “Kiss you? What, like right now?” he asked, unsure.

  “Yes,” she moaned.

  She moaned. Clarice just moaned for me to kiss her.

  Hunter slid a sloppy kiss on her lips, so excited that he made a judgmental error on the location because it was so dark.

  That wasn’t my best one, he thought. But when one’s partner is asleep, it’s hard to make it passionate.

  Clarice, though, didn’t seem to care.

  “Again please,” Clarice muttered, pouting her lips forward to receive another kiss.

  Hunter seriously couldn’t believe his luck tonight. One kiss was fine, but two? That was intentional.

  Ha-ha. Hunter gave an evil laugh. Clarice, you ripe avocado, I’m going to eat you tonight.

  “All right. As you wish, my queen.” He sniggered. And then this time he gave her a heart-dropping kiss on her lips.

  God, I’m such a rascal, just like Max, Hunter thought. But he couldn’t help taking advantage of Clarice when she was asleep like that, all vulnerable and mellow, all soft and sweet, unlike the usual stubborn woman from whom he had to steal kisses just to appease his sexual appetite.

  “More, Hunter, more.” Clarice wrapped her arms around him and clung to his neck tightly, then brought her cheeks to brush against his rough stubbled jaw, like a little kitten rubbing its master for affection. She mewed in satisfaction. “I like your rough jaw. It feels so nice against my cheeks.”

  “Oh God, Clarice, you’re driving me insane here,” he muttered betwee
n more kisses.

  Clarice lay limply in his arms then, allowing him to kiss her, which was strange, and then her arms slid off his neck.

  “Clarice, are you dreaming?”

  Clarice fluttered her eyes open and gazed at him through heavy-hooded eyelids, her pupils all hazy, a thin film of desire masking her vision.

  Hunter cupped her cheeks and asked in his thick voice, “Baby, are you dreaming?”

  “Hunter,” Clarice moaned softly. Her hands went to cling onto his neck again. She pulled his face forward until his lips were hovering just above hers. Then she spoke. “I didn’t tell you to stop kissing me. I want you, Hunter. Make love to me.” And then she initiated the kiss.

  “Oh, baby, why can’t you be like this when you’re awake?” Hunter finally concluded that Clarice must be dreaming when she closed her eyes again. “I will make love to you. I’ll make sure you feel lots of pleasure tonight.”

  Hunter kissed Clarice’s lips again and then her cheeks, chin, and forehead. He trailed kisses all the way to her collarbone, sucking her flesh and licking at certain spots. He was rewarded with pleasure when Clarice shuddered and cried out his name in her sleep.

  “Baby! Baby!” Hunter repeated, his voice thick with lust, a tremble of desire coursing through his body. He could feel himself breaking into sweats. Kissing her collarbone yet again, he started unbuttoning her pajama top, when his hand abruptly stopped.

  No. No. I can’t take Clarice when she thinks this is all a dream. In his mind, he’d imagined they would make love in sweet passion. This was wrong, so wrong on so many levels.

  Hunter will make it his mission to break Clarice’s stubbornness. He loved her—he really loved her—but more than anything, though, he needed to prove to her that he was a gentleman. And gentlemen do not make love or take a woman while she’s asleep.

  Hunter sighed and smiled longingly. He traced her plump lower lip and kissed her there, then said, “Oh, baby. I’m going to make sure you admit you want me when you’re awake. And then I’ll make love to you.”

  Kissing Clarice on the forehead for the final time that night, Hunter walked back to his old nemesis, the couch, and dropped himself onto it.

  “Well,” Hunter said, sliding his hands behind his head as he looked up at the intricate brocade ceiling, “it’s just you and me now, couch. I don’t know when I’ll be able to sleep on a bed again, so let’s just get along, shall we?”

  Clarice got up the next morning craving sex.

  Is this even normal? she asked herself. Of all the things to crave, why does it have to be sex? One would normally crave sour food, sweet food, or exotic food during pregnancy, but in my case in must be sex? That just doesn’t even make sense.

  Dear heaven, she just wanted to dig her head in the sand and die in shame because she didn’t just crave sex with anyone. No, she had to crave sex with that Casanova Hunter.

  How lewd could she get? Even the three-meter rule didn’t help. This was bad, really bad. She just couldn’t think of anything else except Hunter. It was like he dominated her whole mind, filling up all the capacity inside her brain. And last night she’d even dreamed of Hunter cuddling and kissing her.

  Yes. It must be because of that lewd dream from last night. That’s why I’m feeling all hot and bothered so early this morning.

  Surely in dreams no one would get hurt. That was what she remembered thinking in her dream. And because everything was only in her subconscious mind, she’d behaved outlandishly. She’d begged for Hunter to kiss her again and again. Not only that, but she’d asked him to make love to her too. But now that effect had somehow transmitted into real life, and she couldn’t stop thinking about him. She could still remember his face like he was right there in front of her, kissing her lips and forehead. And his jaw, she could still feel his short stubble prickling her skin, making her feel all tingly even now.

  Oh, this is pathetic. Why do I have to tiptoe around the house like I’m a burglar? This is my house after all. But she couldn’t help avoiding him. He was her complete downfall.

  Hunter was lying on the couch, sleeping peacefully, as she entered the lounge. Just seeing him like that, all rough and raw with his blond hair all jagged around his face, raised her body temperature. Thoughts of the dream from last night flooded back into her mind.

  Oh, this is bad, really bad. Her symptoms started up again. That reduced breath, the increase in heart rate, and her itchy hands. She felt like a tiger wanting to pounce on him.

  Does he know how I feel right now? Of course not. That damn man is still asleep. Damn, chocolate, where is that chocolate?

  Clarice rushed into the kitchen to look for chocolate. She could remember watching a film mentioning sex and chocolate. If one were to crave sex, she could get the same pleasure just by eating chocolate.

  Yes, that would be her answer. She could just eat chocolate instead. That should stop her craving for sex with Hunter.

  Now where is that chocolate? She grumpily thought to herself as she looked through the pantry.

  “Why is it every time you need something, it’s never there?” Clarice growled. “Chocolate, where are you?”

  Clarice rummaged through her pantry once more, through all the cup noodles, until she found some, right at the back.

  Ah… almond chocolate. My favorite.

  Unfolding the wrapper, she took one small bite.

  Ecstasy! That’s what it is, she thought as she closed her eyes while chewing the delicious sweet, letting her taste buds detect all of the delicious scent and flavor. Then she took another bite. That small bit of chocolate melting on her tongue was like a trip to heaven. Tasting that sweet goodness, she imagined it was Hunter’s lips she was sinking her teeth into.

  Is this what sexual pleasure feels like? It was so long ago that she couldn’t remember anymore.

  “Why are you binging on chocolate so early in the morning? I thought eating sweets was bad for your teeth,” Hunter asked just as he opened the pantry door to reveal Clarice inside, gorging on chocolate like she’d been starving for a century.

  “I know, but I have a sudden craving for sex—”

  Crap! Clarice opened her eyes and there right in front of her was Hunter, dressed only in his pajamas pants and his white tank top, showing off his abs that were flat as a surfboard.

  “Sex?” Hunter asked, amused at Clarice’s flustered state.

  Clarice swallowed the remaining chocolate in her mouth.

  “Sex? Dear Lord, no… no…” She waved her hand around in denial. “I mean chocolate.”

  Hunter lifted one eyebrow as if he didn’t believe a word that came out of Clarice’s mouth. “You’re craving chocolate? And it’s 7:30 in the morning.”

  “Well, I am pregnant after all. Pregnant women crave weird things.”

  “So not sex, then?”

  “No, not sex. Chocolate. I crave chocolate.” Clarice eyed Hunter. She wished at that point that she didn’t, because another shot of desire rushed through her. She bit her lip, wincing inwardly, trying to suppress a moan from escaping her lips.

  “Whatever you desire, baby.” Hunter brushed aside Clarice’s ailment and went into the pantry and grabbed a box of cereal and a banana, then some nuts and milk from the refrigerator to make his breakfast for Clarice and himself. Turning back to Clarice, he saw she was watching him with a look of unbidden desire.

  Hunter smirked but said nothing, simply ignoring the strong desire between the two.

  “Hunter,” Clarice said quietly.

  “Mmmmm,” he mumbled, placing the two round bowls side by side, and started pouring in all the ingredients in his attempt to make breakfast.

  “I really think you should leave.”

  Hunter snapped his head to Clarice. What has gotten into her today? He thought they’d sorted out their relationship. Or was it because of last night? Did she remember?

  “Why? Haven’t we sorted out I’m to be here until our baby’s born?”

  “I know, but—�
��

  “But what?” Hunter cut in, hoping Clarice wouldn’t mention last night.

  “But…” Oh heaven, how was she supposed to tell Hunter she wanted to sleep with him, that she wanted to ravish him right there and then. Forget about it. She felt her cheeks growing hot. “Oh, never mind. I’m going to work now.”

  “But you haven’t changed out of your pajamas yet, nor eaten breakfast.”

  Clarice stared at herself. Dear heaven. She face-palmed herself and went upstairs to change.

  When Clarice came back downstairs again, her breakfast was already made. Hunter made sure Clarice had her food first, but because she was in such a hurry, she only had two spoons full before rushing out the door.

  “Why in such a hurry?” Hunter asked as she was flapping around looking for her shoes.

  “I have surgery today. My patient’s coming at eight thirty,” she said while putting on her shoes, avoiding eye contact.

  “It’s only eight in the morning. You still have half an hour. Go back and eat breakfast properly. It’s not good for your health. Think about our baby.”

  “I know. But I really am in a hurry. Traffic is no good if I leave too late.”

  “Fine. I forgive you for not eating today. But only for today. You must have an early lunch. Or even better, have an early morning break.”

  When Clarice was done, she finally turned her gaze to Hunter looking all domesticated in her rose-print apron. Hunter lifted his eyebrow at her in a questioning gaze.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Well?” Clarice asked, tapping her foot on the wooden porch outside.

  “Well what?” Hunter replied.

  “Aren’t you going to leave? I have to lock the door you know.”

  “I can lock the door for you,” he said proudly, like he was the owner of the house and Clarice was the guest.

  “But—”

  “But what?” Hunter cut in again. “You don’t trust me? I have the key to your house. If I wanted to steal anything, I would have done so ages ago. Now go to work and stop flapping around like a chicken. You’re an avocado remember, not a chicken.”