by Hazel Parker
Ben followed suit and kept up after me as I made my way to the find the name badges. May Callister, Author, mine read. I noticed mine was right next to Ben’s. Was life just throwing us together? Didn’t life realize what was at stake here? I sacrificed everything for Ben to be able to be here celebrating in the report he had launched which was, as predicated, making a name for him. Don’t ruin it now, fate, I cursed under my breath.
Ben said, “What’s that, May?”
I fixed my badge on me and turned to him, “Nothing, Ben. Nothing at all. It’s lovely to see you. Congratulations on your report. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my seat. The mystery speaker is going to start soon.”
Ben grinned, “That mystery speaker would be me and the damn conference can wait. I need answers, May. You just left me; we were going to be great together. You never gave me a why and I think you owe me that.”
I tried to hold a smile, tried to pretend everything was normal. That I didn’t have a six-month-old, beautiful baby girl currently stashed at my friend's house, a secret baby to protect her daddy’s career. I didn’t mean to keep her a secret forever, just for now, until things were right, until Ben was established. Then I would find a way to explain to him why I had done what I did. Perhaps the rebel in him would agree with me, with going against convention and being a secret mom for a while.
“Ben,” I began just as a conference organizer strode up to him to tell him he was on.
The organizer looked between us, sensing the tension and ignoring it, and said, “Ben, you’re on in five minutes; we need to mic you up.”
Ben looked at the organizer and back to me, “No, sorry, I have other things to attend to. May, I’m not going to let you out of my sight or get up on that stage until you give me one damn good reason why you left me after everything.”
I looked at Ben as the organizer faded away back into the crowd, sensing conflict, and the room emptied as people went to their seats, and waiting for a speaker who might not come.
“Because,” I said quietly, “because I got pregnant, Ben.” I panicked.
I turned and fled, bursting into tears and ripping my name badge off my dress, tearing a small hole just like the hole in my heart had torn bigger at seeing his handsome face demanding answers to what I did with his love.
Ben chased after me, not caring for the roomful of people waiting to hear his wit and wisdom, “May,” he cried as I ran.
He caught up to me easily enough as I headed out to my car. I was no match for an athletic man like Ben, a postpartum woman like me, slow and cumbersome in a new body. I stood by my car and he stood looking at me. The wind stood still, and time stood still. Just my lover, my daughter's father, and I looking at each other.
Ben spoke first and said, “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t understand.”
Tears rolled down my face as I replied, “It was for you.” A flash of pain across his face. I couldn’t tell if he was angry. He definitely was hurt.
Ben nodded slowly, letting this shocking information sink in. He took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly and looked me in the eyes. “We will figure this out.”
I smiled from under my tears and took his hand. It felt warm and strong in mine, the fingers slightly calloused, the hands of a man who gets out from behind the books and really uses them. My heart thudded softly in my chest.
I said emotionally, “She’s beautiful. Her name is Zoe. It means life.”
Ben’s face broke out into a grin, that sexy, imperfect face of his. The one that back in the bar had entranced me to want to give myself to him, to be so caught up in the moment that I didn’t think about protection or the potential life we were creating.
I gestured to the conference center, “Our speeches.”
“I don’t think I can concentrate now after that bombshell. Can we go talk? I want to meet her.”
“These speeches are important for both of our careers. As soon as we are finished, we will go together to pick her up. Promise.”
*****
After a successful conference, we walked out together. “She’s perfect, Ben. She’s six months and has little toes and little fingers and I’ve spent the last six months wrapped up in her.”
Ben grinned even more widely, “Let’s get out of here.”
We drove over to Natalie’s and she made herself scarce while I gathered up Zoe and her many baby things and bag. Ben rushed for his baby girl and scooped her up out of Natalie’s spare crib and held her close, marveling at her tiny face and perfect, little nose.
He looked up at me, a man in love. “Not here.”
We drove the ninety minutes back to my house with Zoe strapped into her baby seat, gurgling away as if she knew her mommy and daddy were together in the front, reunited and coming together for her, and for themselves. Ben, of course, insisted on driving, being a man who hates to let someone else have control.
I saw another Ben on that drive: a father. He drove 10 miles slower than when he had first driven me over to his apartment, driving then when he shouldn’t have, given the whiskey. Now I had to encourage him to drive faster in case we were arrested.
Pulling into my driveway, he came around and opened my door and helped me out of the car carefully, like I was still a delicate, pregnant woman, not a woman who had survived a fifteen hour labor alone. His concern for me was touching. Ben carried Zoe inside in her baby carrier to my living room. He sat her carefully down on the rug and sprawled beside her. I sat down on the other side of the baby carrier and officially and joyfully introduced Ben to his daughter.
“She’s sleeps well enough, but in the first three months, she kept me awake constantly, cheeky thing.”
“She gurgles all the time, like she has something to say but can’t just yet.”
“She loves her tummy rubbed. Here, try.”
Ben looked at me as if asking for permission to touch Zoe. I nodded encouragement and he reached a tentative, large hand down onto Zoe’s little tummy. He rubbed it gently, in a circular motion with his long, strong fingers, and Zoe looked at him and obliging let out a big gurgle, as if saying ‘Hi, Daddy,’ and smiled at him.
We fell in love, all three of us. A family. There was no question about it. Ben loved Zoe and I loved Zoe and Ben and I loved each other. It was like we had never been apart and as if Zoe was a natural addition to our duo, now a three-part act.
“Call me crazy,” Ben said, “but I think I’m in love with two girls at once.”
I laughed and reached across Zoe to kiss him firmly on the mouth, “I might permit you to have another love, if it’s Zoe.”
Ben grinned and kissed me again, “Two girls is enough in my life…for now.”
He eyed my figure appreciatively, my post-baby curves and full breasts straining against my conservative, navy dress.
He said wistfully, “I wish I could have made love to you while you were pregnant, your body all full of our love and growing.”
I looked down, flushing. I had ached for him in the nights when my body was craving his touch and the pregnancy hormones driving me mad to be touched. Touched in secret places, in private places. Filled in every way.
Ben left me with my thoughts for a moment and rubbed Zoe’s tummy, causing more gurgles to flow forth from our adorable, little daughter. Seeing this man with his baby lifted my spirits. Lifted away the difficulties of concealing my pregnancy and being alone. Of being a single mom and being shunned by some and judged online by the media and mommy wars. Of worrying I’d never been enough for Zoe.
Ben kissed me again and Zoe began to fall to sleep, “Maybe we can practice baby making for number two?”
I kissed him back and smiled, “This time I won’t run away.”
Ben looked fierce for a moment and said, “You better not; I won’t let you. I’m not going to let you out of my sight. I’m going to get you with child again and get you so heavy with them you can’t move and have to stay home helping me with my research all day. No running away for you.”
I laughed and kissed him again. I scooped Zoe up and got her ready for bed as Ben watched.
*****
My bedroom was similar to the rest of the house. Yellow walls, wooden floors, and white furniture. Light and lovely. Ben looked masculine in contrast to the femininity of my room. Zoe had slept in a crib by my bed until just recently, when I had made the reluctant decision for her to take the next step into her own room. But right by mine.
This time it was different, though, my being in this room. I wasn’t alone. I worried about leaving her in her room and went back out to check on her again. Ben followed, eager to learn how to care for his little girl. Assured Zoe was sleeping peacefully and safely in her crib, we stole away back to my bedroom.
We stood, facing each other. Ben removed my dress, leaving me in my panties and bra, vulnerable, “I want you,” he said.
I moved my hands over his body and slipped his blazer off his strong shoulders, letting it drop on the floor. I didn’t care for the expensive garments that clothed his body; I wanted his body naked before me and now. Ben helped with his shirt as I continued to move my hands over his chest up to his face.
Ben pulled me in for a passionate kiss and with the same, deft, practiced hand, he unhooked my bra and let it drop to the floor where his shirt and blazer lay. I reached for his suit pants, for the hardness I could see outlined. His suit pants and belt fell to the floor and I knelt down with his cock in my hand. I licked the tip of it a few times, teasing, until I put my mouth over it and took in his whole length. Ben groaned, putting his hand behind my head, gently guiding me.
I stood up and slid my panties off.
Ben kissed me and took my hand and led me to the bed, laying me down. He began to slowly kiss every inch of my body, my face, my ears, and then my neck. Then down to my breasts with his mouth on my nipples, flicking and teasing. My breasts were round and heavy and Ben commented on the difference from the last time he saw them.
Stroking my round breasts, he said, “So different…so voluptuous, so sexy.”
I smiled up at his handsome face and imperfect smile and replied, “A bonus, bigger boobs.”
Ben moved his hand down my body to where my heat was emanating. His thumb began to rub my throbbing clit; he inserted a finger, then a second. I was so wet and ready for him.
“I want you inside me.”
Ben positioned himself above me so his cock was lined up with my opening. He gently inserted himself as I hoisted up my hips in pleasure, wanting him to go deeper, filling me. He was thick, the pleasure was almost unbearable.
“You’re so wet.”
He leaned in and nibbled my bottom lip as he continued to pump his dick into me. Ecstasy was taking over. I moaned, indicating I was close. Everything was aching for release. My pussy, my clit—I just wanted him harder and faster. Ben started pumping harder, inching his way to release himself. In unison, we came. Breathing heavy and hard, Ben fell on top of me. He kissed me sweetly.
“I missed you so much. You have no idea.”
Ben went quiet, and he looked towards my open bedroom door towards where our daughter lay. I fell quiet too as we lay together and touched and melded our bodies. I had been thoughtless, perhaps, thinking Ben would put his career before his child. Insecure that I or we weren’t worth it to him. I had been wrong to keep Zoe a secret.
I reached for him and said, “Will you forgive me?”
Ben looked me in the eyes and said, “I do, May. I understand the position you were in. I just wish it hadn’t been that way. I hope I never treated you like just a fling that I didn’t care about, that you walked away for your own reasons, not because I made you feel unwelcome in my life.”
I replied, “Oh, Ben, I think it was all just in my head. Maybe I was so crazy with pregnancy hormones I didn’t think straight. I just wanted to protect everyone in my life. You, Zoe, the research time. I got it wrong and I am sorry.”
I felt vulnerable in his arms, naked under the duvet as we worked our bodies up to being together. As Ben kept me talking the whole time, his fingers wouldn’t stop exploring. This was a man who could balance a sensitive discussion with a single-minded pursuit of being with his woman again.
Ben sighed and replied, “It was probably me; I’m so focused, I can sometimes make those around me feel they don’t have a place in my life. You always did and do, and Zoe most certainly does too. Looking down at her face and holding you now, I know nothing is more important.”
I smiled and we kissed again and our hands entwined on our sexes as the hurt and pain of the last few months was forgotten and our bodies got to know each other again. It was different, yet the same. His body hadn’t changed, still strong and muscular, but a little imperfect in a way that made a girl feel good about herself. Especially a girl who was softer, rounder than before.
Ben began to kiss me; he sat up on his elbow. My new body and curves seemed to be driving him wild as he couldn’t stop running his hands over me as he shifted my legs apart easily with a strong hand. He was an insistent lover, dominant, in control. He leads, I follow. He shifted his body onto mine, less careful of me now, needing me too bad to concern himself with the impact of every move he made on me.
Thrusting his cock up into me with a moan, we were one again. Ben brought his face to mine and began to kiss me and speak softly as he controlled his thrusts into me, “You are the mother of my child; I love you.”
I reached for him, grabbing his strong back, his firm butt, and pulling him into me more and more. His cock plunged confidently in and out of me. I felt womanly, less the girl grad student and more the mature woman. I felt his equal. He may be the super-successful, former CEO, but I had birthed a child and raised it alone for months. I had strength, too.
His body rose and fell on mine and I arched up to meet his thrusts, wanting him to fill me again. He was the perfect fit for me. His cock sheathed into my private places like it was meant to be there, like we were made for each other. Ben kissed me hard as his body picked up speed, needing me; his thrusts became shallower and more urgent. I knew from our time before that he was losing control, losing himself in me, loving it.
Our bodies moved in urgency now, faster together. Ben cried out my name as he thrust in and out of me harder and harder, bringing me closer and closer. The pressure became too much inside me, such a damn of forgotten desire welling up after months alone and I exploded into blissful release. I held Ben tight as I cried out his name and felt a wave of pleasure wash over me.
My needs taken care of, Ben let himself orgasm. He took me hard and harder until his own release became close and his face screwed up tight. He let out a long moan of my name and released his seed inside me, the same act that had created our child, torn us apart, and now brought us back together again.
Afterwards, we didn’t fall right into each other’s arms. After carefully moving himself off, Ben was up and away, to Zoe’s room. Throwing on his underwear, but otherwise naked, Ben went to check on his daughter. I went to get up too, to show him how, but stopped myself. This was his moment, his time. He was her father; he could care for her too.
I sat anxiously until Ben walked back in with Zoe in his arms, wrapped in a yellow blanket and sleeping peacefully. He held her perfectly, like he just knew. My heart soared at the sight of my strong, handsome, naked lover holding our daughter so carefully in his arms. They were so different; she was tiny in his arms, and so fragile looking, yet so carefully cared for. I knew she was safe, that we would be safe.
Ben spoke as he moved carefully to the bed and said, “She’s ours, May, I can’t believe it. So tiny and perfect.”
I smiled down at our daughter and stroked her little cheek. I couldn’t help myself; I didn’t want to wake her, but I also wanted to touch her, to share in what we had created.
I said, “She looks like you.”
Ben shook his head and laughed, “She has your nose and your hair, and thank god she doesn’t have my looks.”
I laugh
ed and fell back onto the covers for a moment as Ben held Zoe in our bed, grinning.
“You must be joking,” I said, “Mr. Former Male Model.”
Ben winced and joked back, “Hey now, she is never going to know about that. If there is one thing she will never do, that is model or work in fashion.”
I grinned and teased him, “Will you be a strict daddy, Ben?”
Ben looked affronted, and for real, and replied, “Of course! She’s not leaving the house until she graduates from college, and that’s only to get married to a man of my choosing.”
I laughed again, pleased. I had worried about how I was going to raise a daughter on my own. I’m a strong woman, but I wanted her to have a great male role model. Ben was that man, someone who had principles and acted on them, quitting his career at its peak to improve the industry we both loved. Someone who believed in the rights of people, from consumers to daughters and fought for that. A rebel with a cause. And, looking at him looking down at Zoe adoringly, a rebel with a soft heart.