Out of his pocket, he pulled a little basketball, and saying that was the most adorable gift I’d gotten so far was an understatement.
But I had to have a little fun.
“Optimistic, huh?” I asked, fingering the tiny laces. I lay back on the bed, and he joined me, placing an arm around my waist.
He shrugged. “It’s not optimistic. It’s destiny. Our boy is destined, and I’m going to be there to make it happen every step of the way.”
Taking the tiny shoes, he made the soles walk across my stomach, a handsome grin on his lips.
He looked at me. “I’m going to be there for him, Roxie. And not just for basketball. I’ll support him in whatever he wants to do, basketball or otherwise.”
Why was I not surprised? I should never be when it came to my husband.
“I like the sound of that,” I said, incredibly warm inside. He had a way of doing that.
Almost like a summons, a tickle in my tummy had my hand moving to my stomach, and as Griffin recognized the gesture, he placed his hand there also. He hadn’t felt movement yet because the initial flutters deep inside were too small for him to feel anything, but that never stopped him. I think he wanted to feel connected, to me, the baby, and Lord knows how much I adored him for that.
Together, we held hands, mine feeling for the general area of that second tickle. It hit, and at my reaction, Griffin smiled.
Drawing in, he leaned over me, kissing my tummy with his eyes closed.
I gripped his head, blond tendrils flowing through my fingers. I felt the connection, as well. I felt it everywhere, especially when his hand moved to my dress.
He pushed underneath the material, palming my hip, my ass, and using the flesh, he brought me to him, my belly between us until he turned me to my side.
He got above me, his hand reaching behind his back. He gathered his shirt, tugging it off, and golden skin, rugged with tiny hairs made its appearance. His body spaced off into perfect sections, his skin stretching over hard flesh with every move he made toward me.
I wanted to touch him, his hair messy and tossed from removing his shirt, but it turned out he wanted to touch me more.
“Griffin…”
His hand gripping my ass summoned me to turn.
“On your knees,” he said, his voice laced with something carnal, his drawl rough.
I did as I was told, a noise escaping my throat as his hands massaged my hips. He reached for the zipper of my dress and my head sagged forward, the gentle undoing of the metal fastener heated to my sensitive skin.
It seemed he had a free hand because suddenly my folds were pinched through my panties, his thick fingers rough against my throbbing lips.
I called out when he slid inside against my aching bud, kissing my neck, then my shoulder when he moved my dress and bra strap down my arm. I ached for him, my panties slick and saturated and suddenly, Griffin lowered them, tonguing the vertebrae of my spine while he drew them down.
On my knees, I maneuvered out of them, and Griffin unstrapped my bra, letting it and my dress straps fall to my wrists.
My heavy breasts spilled forward at the relief, and I used the bedding in an attempt to relieve the ache around my distended nipples as they skid against the sheets.
He had me so vulnerable that way, so exposed, and his hands came to spread my cheeks, pushing my bottom up.
“So sweet,” he said, breathing over my heat. “You smell so damn sweet, Roxie. So fucking sweet.”
And he tongued me, immersing himself so deep when he penetrated. My arms weakened at the depth and my body racked in shudders. As if he knew, he supported my hips, holding me while his mouth sucked, summoning more juices.
I fell to my elbows, burying my face in my pillows. I called his name, his hands bringing my hips to his face, my core to his mouth. The pressure ripped through me, his hand reaching up to palm my breast. I was diamond-hard under his touch.
“Come, baby,” he breathed from behind. “Come for me.”
I was so close.
Fighting it, I reached behind me, tugging his arm so he’d get on top of me. He did, getting up on his knees, and I turned unbuckling his pants.
He drew in close from behind, letting me push his pants down.
His lips were completely swollen, hot pink and covered with my taste.
Jeans down to his hips, his length descended, arching up to the first section of his abs.
Using the thick flesh, he drew it between my cheeks, sliding his hand down my back. He laid me on my side, then got behind me as the hard ridges of his body embraced me, protecting me from everything.
Lifting my leg, he stretched me, a breath escaping his lips into my ear.
“Let me fill you, Roxie,” he said, kissing the shell. “Open up for me.”
I closed my eyes, feeling him all around and deep at the same time. So long, he tore me apart from the inside out, and he rocked, fluttering his hips to gain even more depth.
He fingered my breasts, tweaking my nipples, and I couldn’t breathe, the pressure inside building toward the brim. We were so close, as close as we could ever be, his thighs slapping the back of mine.
Drawing my hair back, he pushed his lips against the nape of my neck, his hips moving in quick time, as he took me to the brink. He whispered his love to me with every thrust, his body rock, and his kiss hard.
“I love you, too,” I told him, but the words didn’t feel like enough. They never did no matter how many times I said them. My love for this man ran deep. There were no words for it that were completely good enough.
Warm jets only came after my own heat flourished from me, the combination dripping hot down my thighs. He came so hard with me, the length of his arm reaching around to take me with him.
“You’ll always have me,” he soothed, brushing his lips across my back. He moved his hips again, milking me and exhausting us both.
“That’s my promise to you both,” he said, and I could feel that, the emotion deep in his voice. His love for me, us, ran just as deep. I bet if someone asked him he’d say even more.
I know because I would, too.
Roxie
I curled my leg over my lengthy bed pillow, a constant roll in the form of the house doorbell drumming around in my head.
Groaning, I hugged the second love of my life, trying to ignore the sound but decided I knew better. It could be important. I sighed, falling to my back and my hand hit a piece of paper. It crumbled a bit in my fingers as I brought it up to my face, and squinting, I made out the fine cursive. He always did write better than me.
“Hey, I wanted to wake you, but knew better of it as you had Samson between your thighs.”
I snickered. Griffin knew the pillow. He got the pillow, the thing a staple in my pregnancy so far, and was actually quite cool about the other man in my life. I smiled.
“Anyway, I got a long one today, as I’m sure you know since you have my schedule. I’ll check in when I can. I love you. Give Jackson a squeeze for me. I gave him a kiss already. - Griff.”
That thing he did to me I couldn’t put into words. It was a good thing he was so well-versed with them.
The drum around the house continued, and I whined, making myself get up to get it. I had a routine in the morning that usually consisted of Samson and the bedpost.
I got him, using the post to get to the edge of the bed. My slippers were down on the rug, and I slipped inside them, finding a nightgown I had lying around.
I was still naked from last night. Grinning, I got myself together, then found a robe, which made me completely decent. I shimmied out of the bedroom and down the hall after that, anticipating a salesman or something at the door. Because of that, I got my lines all ready, but nothing could prepare me for the man behind the door.
In a snazzy blazer, Troy beamed at me, always sunshiney at what barely could be eight in the morning. He had two men behind him, wearing jeans and construction boots. One had a pencil behind his ear, and I couldn’t have b
een more confused.
My old wedding planner and friend gathered me into his arms.
“Morning, sweetheart. Simply gorgeous at any hour,” he said, pulling away. He held my hands, swinging them a little and I laughed.
“Uh, thanks.” I had to say I loved the flattery, but it was kind of hella early. I scratched the back of my head, and I think it dawned on him that I had no idea why he was there.
His head tilted. “Mommy-to-be, you’ve already forgotten? Eight o’ clock consultation? You said you wanted to get started right away with the baby’s room.”
Crap. We had discussed that. With all the excitement yesterday, I must have let that slip my mind. I was completely drunk on punch and sugar yesterday.
I covered my mouth, my fingers falling away. “Oh, Troy, I’m sorry. We did agree to that.”
My brain lapse caused him to chuckle. He grabbed my hand. “It’s not a problem. We can reschedule.”
But he’d come all that way, twice at that, and I knew what people had to go through to get here. That ferry ride wasn’t a joke.
Griffin and I lived off Miami’s coast, the only way to get into the city by ferry.
I waved my friend off, gesturing him inside next. “We can do it today. No problem. My morning is completely free.” That was why I gave the “okay” so quickly. Plus, I wanted to see my friend again. We didn’t talk as much since he moved to New York. Troy had businesses all over the country but chose to put his central office there, selling everything from planning services to merchandise with his name on it, a true entrepreneur I could only admire. He’d even had a hand in decorating my consulting office, Rox Inc.
Troy, of course, protested about today. Especially, after he learned I had been sleeping, but I insisted, more than excited to get started on the baby’s room. The place had essentially turned into a black hole of “we should do this to it,” and because of that, there were random swatches of fabrics and paint samples everywhere. It also had become a dumping ground for everything we’d gotten for the baby so far.
Troy, the dear he was, tried not to look surprised at the monstrosity of strollers and toys, but an “Oh, my” did fall from his lips at first glance. He recovered quickly though, telling his team to measure while he sat with me in the breakfast nook. He spread out notebooks and samples on the counter while I made him coffee. He liked two sugars and cream.
“Thank you,” he said, tipping his cup to me after I’d made it and I smiled, my hand on my chin from my seat at my counter next to him. Eventually, a small snicker came from my right, and I dropped my hand, eyeing him.
“What?” I asked, feeling more than confused.
He waved his fingers. “Nothing. Now, let’s go over—”
“Uh-uh.” That man would not laugh at me and not let me in on it. I crossed my arms. “Spill it.”
He grinned, pointing ahead. “You were staring at that wall for more than a minute, the biggest smile on your face. I called your name twice, and you said nothing.”
Had he? I really did have pregnancy brain. I pressed my hands to my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine,” he said, placing his cup down. “You’re just happy. That, and you look rather satisfied this morning.”
“Troy!” I pushed his arm, and that sent his head back in laughter.
He raised his hands. “You asked. And where is the husband? No doubt trying to find the perfect star for you? He spared no expense for the party yesterday, Roxie, and the baby is meant to have the best that can be had. I offered the services for both at no cost. My present to you both, but he wouldn’t have that. Eventually, I gave in. He was a man with his mind made up and wouldn’t be swayed.”
Nothing he said surprised me. Griffin and his heart were so big. He always wanted the best for me. He’d always taken care of me.
The doorbell rang again, and I squeezed Troy’s hand before getting up. He said he’d get everything set up for us to begin and I told him fine while I answered the door. I checked the peephole before opening, but that time, I didn’t know the visitor.
A woman, older with short gray hair, held a large bag, smiling up at me. She held out her hand. “Mrs. Chandler?”
I let go of the door, accepting her hand. “Yes, can I help you?”
A shake of her head, read of her confusion. “I’m here for the interview.”
And then, I was the one confused. I leaned against the door. “I’m sorry? Interview?”
Her head bobbed once in acknowledgment. “For the nanny position.”
My eyes widened, and I watched as she pulled a form out of her bag. On the paper, read her name: Pamela Harris. Down below read a resume with quite a few high profile clients. There were people I saw on the silver screen and ranking the music charts, but my mind was still blown why she was here. I never sent out for a nanny at all. I mean, the baby wasn’t even born yet.
I held my stomach, feeling weird about it all.
“Are you all right, Mrs. Chandler?”
“Um, yes,” I said, blinking. “I’m sorry. Who contacted you again?”
“It was a woman by the name of Deanna Bloom. She said she represented your husband.”
Relief came a bit at the name of Griffin’s agent. At least, I wasn’t losing my mind. But still, I hadn’t given her permission to do that. I wanted to get to the bottom of this it all, but didn’t want to leave the woman standing outside.
I waved her. “Please, uh. Come inside.”
She nodded, following me. In the foyer, I told her one moment while I made a call. I found my cell phone on the nook counter, and Troy’s head lifted.
“Everything, okay, Roxie?”
Dialing, I pressed the phone to my ear. “Yeah, just have to make a quick phone call.”
I took it down the hall, staring out the window toward the beach. I really loved living there, the place so open. The waves were the first thing I saw in the morning, and the voice of the man who made that happen sounded in my ear.
“Morning, baby.”
He had the power to elicit this light in me, something beyond even my control.
I turned toward the glass sliding door, resting my head on it. “Hi. What are you doing?”
“Another damn tedious day,” he said, breathing into the phone. “I’ve already had two meetings this morning. I had to get them in before practice this afternoon.”
“Meetings?”
“Yeah, just more endorsement stuff. You know, the usual.”
Very high in demand my guy. He learned to balance all that, though, and his agent had been great to help him with that. Nothing like his first disaster with Mickey and his first publicist Rich thank God.
“Anyway, how’s my girl?” he went on. “Everything, okay? The baby?”
I touched my stomach. “We’re all cool. Good and everything, but I wondered if you could call Deanna for me about something.”
“Sure. What do you need?”
I breathed into the phone, pushing off the glass. “There’s a woman here. A nanny? She said Deanna scheduled her for an interview with me. I appreciate it and everything, but I don’t have a need for—”
“Oh, that was me, Roxie.”
“You?” I blinked, shaking my head. “What was you?”
“I made some calls this morning. Got Deanna to set up some meetings with you for some help.”
“But…” I didn’t want to say it, but why would he do that? Instead, I went with this. “Um, uh… But why?”
The phone held a steady silence for a moment, but then came his deep voice.
“Well, we kinda talked about it a little, babe.”
We had I guess, but so, so briefly. It had been a fleeting conversation over a few dinners, but nothing we settled on. I heard of those stories, celebrity nannies raising the kids instead of the parents and that unsettled me. I wanted to form those connections with my child. I wanted us both to.
“Yeah, I guess, but…” I paused, drawing my lip between my teeth. “We didn’t com
e to a firm decision on that.”
“No, but we need the help, Roxie. Don’t you think? What about when you go back to work full-time?”
I breathed.
“Just consider it. Talk to a few of these women scheduled for today. They come highly recommended, and it would really set my mind at ease that we have a plan. And that’s all this is—a plan. I don’t want you worrying about anything right now. Just being cute and pregnant and sexy as hell.”
My cheeks ablaze, I put my hand to one. He always made sure to remind me of that, how he saw me in his eyes.
“Please?” he questioned, sounding all cute himself. I could also hear that lip pouting through the phone.
“You always get your way.”
“Well, I’ll take this one. I love you and have fun today. It’s for you.”
Griffin
The weekend found me on the golf course, but the rounds weren’t much for leisurely activity. I had my cell phone in my hand more than my nine-iron, and my inviting party was starting to notice. I gazed up, my agent, one of my team’s owners, and his friend’s eyes all on me.
My smile went crooked.
“Sorry,” I said putting my phone away. I rested my hands on the club. “My wife is pregnant, so every buzz in my pocket is like a straight twinge of paranoia from if she’s okay to do I need to pick up something for her.”
Shit, I even imagined the buzz when it wasn’t buzzing these days. I couldn’t help it I guess. The golf course had some distance between the house and me, and I got like this anytime I couldn’t get to Roxie quickly. It’s not like she needed me really. In fact, it was rare she ever really needed anything, but as she got further and further along in her pregnancy, I became more and more aware of whenever physical distance was put between us for my job. We’d learn to balance that over the years with just the two of us, but this was completely new territory, intimidating territory.
Deanna chuckled like I knew she would. The only woman on the course, she looked right at home with the boys. If fact, she could putt the pants off all of us—her age only making her more experienced. She’d agented in a male-dominated industry for over thirty years, so let’s just say she played a lot of damn golf.
Cherished by You: A Found by You Finale Novella Page 3