The Baby Race

by Tara Wylde

  Jeremy curses and reaches behind him, grabbing onto the table, but he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t tell me to stop.

  I run my fingers along its length, marveling at how soft the skin is, almost silken. And it’s huge. Had I gotten a good look at it last night, I would have lost my nerve, convinced that there was no way my body could adjust to it. Even now, when it’s been buried in me multiple times, I’m not sure how it fit.

  I run my thumb along the edge and a drop of liquid oozes out of the tiny slit.

  “Oh my God,” Jeremy groans. His knees shake.

  I tip my head back to look at him. His neck is bowed, his face turned to the ceiling. I can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed.

  “Do you want me to stop?” I whisper as my thumb makes another pass, drawing even more moisture from him.

  “Fuck, no,” he grinds out between gritted teeth.

  Grinning, I turn my attention back to the matter at hand.

  The sight of the pre-cum glistening on the end of his cock inspires me.

  With more courage than I ever would have thought I was capable of, I lean closer, breathing in his musky scent as I flick out my tongue, tasting the salty essence.

  “Shit,” Jeremy grinds out, even as he releases one hand from the death grip on the table and tangles his fingers in my hair. Encouraged when he doesn’t pull me away, I open my mouth and lean close, taking a few minutes to explore the soft underside of his cock with my tongue, loving how my ministrations cause it to swell to an even more impressive size.

  I’ve never felt more in control, more powerful than I do right now.

  Jeremy’s fingers dig into the back of my skull, urging, but not forcing me to take more of him into my mouth.

  “Just relax. Soften your jaw and breathe through your nose. That’s it. God, it feels so fucking good.” Guttural sounds of masculine pleasure punctuate each of his words.

  I swirl my tongue around his cockhead as his hips slowly start moving. Each time he thrusts, I open the back of my throat, welcoming him.

  Loving the feel, the taste of him, I adjust my angle so I can look up at him through lowered lashes. His head is bowed, eyes closed. Sweat streams down his face as his harsh breathing billows his cheeks. Pride wings through me as I swirl my tongue and moan as he thrusts just a little deeper. His fingers tighten in my hair, steadying me as I swallow more of his pre-cum.

  My hands rest on the sides of his thighs. I feel the muscles tense and bunch and I instinctively recognize the signs that he’s on the edge of losing control. I brace myself, preparing to take whatever he’s about to send my way, when he suddenly jerks free of my mouth. My clothes disappear in a flurry of movement that leaves me breathless, and I’m more than happy to assist.

  His hands grab my shoulders, lifting me up and off my knees. He spins me around, slamming my ass on the table, sending flowers scattering, as he parts my thighs and thrusts into my moist heat.

  His cock unerringly finds my G-spot, stroking it, once, twice, a third time, and the fireworks explode behind my eyes as an orgasm rips through me. My fingers dig into Jeremy’s biceps as his shout matches my own and together we fall to pieces.

  16

  Caitlin

  “Can I ask you a question?” Jeremy is sitting on the side of my bed, tying the shoes he’d convinced his housekeeper to run over here from his apartment, along with an entire change of clothes so that we could go from here straight to the special needs school. She also brought Sasha, which feels significant, though I’m somehow afraid to explore why.

  I swear softly under my breath as I completely miss the tiny hole in the bottom of my earlobe and try to use the back of the silver sterling hoop to poke a brand new one. “Sure.”

  “Yesterday, when I brought you to my place for dinner, you seemed really nervous.” Jeremy’s voice trails off.

  “That’s a statement, not a question.”

  My second attempt goes more smoothly and I fasten the earrings and step back to study my reflection in the full length mirror. The green sweater dress matches my eyes and the cut disguises the fact that I’ve lost too much weight since learning about my dad’s diagnosis. All bones and no meat these days.

  The little bit of makeup I put on draws attention to my eyes, which just this afternoon Jeremy said were the first thing he noticed about me. And my French braid adds just the right amount of elegance for a low-key awards banquet.

  “It’s just that you were nervous. More so than what seemed natural. I was wondering why?”

  I really hoped to avoid this particular conversation. There’s no way to sugar coat it.

  Maybe the best way to approach is quickly and bluntly. “A few years back I was dating a guy. We’d been going out for a few months and I guess he got tired of waiting for me to be ready, so he decided to give me some encouragement.”

  Stone-faced, Jeremy stares at me. Unable to look at him, I go to my closet and drag my one pair of fancy high-heeled boots out.

  “He got rough and I screamed, which caused his neighbor—he had this super cheap apartment with extra thin walls—to yell something. That distracted my – ex – boyfriend enough that I was able to run out of the apartment. Once I was out of the building, I called my dad.”

  It was one of the hardest calls I’ve ever made. With the front of the dress I was wearing torn, my mouth bruised, and my hair a tangled mess, there was no hiding what had happened.

  “He took me to the police station and insisted I file assault charges, even though I just wanted to pretend the whole thing hadn’t happened. But he pointed out that if I didn’t do something, then my boyfriend might do it again, to someone else. That night, I pressed charges against him. The next day, when I heard he’d been arrested, I asked my dad to drive me back to the county jail and I officially broke up with the jackass.”

  At the time, I thought it would be a horrible moment. But seeing him under arrest, completely robbed of his freedom even for just a short period of time, and knowing that I’d done the right thing, had been empowering.

  “He was arrested, found guilty, served a short sentence, and will now spend the rest of his life as a registered sex offender. For the most part I put the entire experience behind me, but I never visited another man’s place when it was just the two of us. I always made sure someone else was there.”

  A muscle on the side of Jeremy’s face jumps. His mouth flattens into a grim line. Standing and closing the short distance between us, he takes me in his arms, pulling me into his chest and holding me tightly.

  “And I took advantage of the situation.” His voice rumbles against my cheek as his hands stroke my back, desperately offering comfort. “I’m so sorry.”

  I shake my head. “You have nothing to feel sorry about. I told you I wanted you, and I did.”

  “But I put you in a tight spot.” Remorse colors Jeremy’s tone. “And I pushed my advantage.”

  “Nonsense.”

  Irrationally irritated by his self-flagellation, I shove back against his chest, putting space between us. “I chose to go up to your place with you. I’m the one who asked you to kiss me, not the other way around, and multiple times, you asked if I was sure. I have no regrets. You shouldn’t either.”

  Jeremy drags a hand through his hair, messing up the style he spent several minutes creating. “It’s just—” He blows out a heavy breath. “I know how it feels to be trapped, to feel like you have no choice. I swore I’d never put anyone in that position.”

  My eyes narrow. This is new. There’s a rawness in his voice, a vulnerability in his stunning eyes that I’ve never seen before. I suspect no one else has either.

  I go completely still, sensing that if I move, he’ll come to his senses and not share whatever demons are haunting him.

  His wild eyes meet mine. “Evan is like that. We’re identical twins—well, except for this.” He gestures carelessly at his eye that’s half Caribbean blue and half the color of melted gold. “Physically, we’re nearly a perfect mat
ch, but our personalities couldn’t be more different. I’m cautious and seldom make a move without weighing all the pros and cons, whereas he’s reckless and seldom considers consequences before he leaps.”

  Which is how he ended serving time for assaulting a police officer, I think, but decide to keep my thoughts to myself.

  “He also had, probably still has, a knack for manipulation. He’s able to say things to bend others to his will, like he’s altering reality and even though you know he’s wrong, you can’t help but go along with him. And he exploits weaknesses. He did it to me when we were kids, but I thought it was normal. It wasn’t until he was arrested and I took over Caldwell Industries that I learned he’d turned it into… I want to say a lifestyle. There wasn’t a single person in the organization who wasn’t worried or afraid of him. He turned all the employees against one another, and then fed on their paranoias to get whatever he wanted. I’ve only just managed to sort out all the damage he did.”

  “And that’s why you’re so desperate to get that two percent of the company your dad put in trust for the first grandchild?”

  Jeremy nods his confirmation. He looks so dejected, so miserable, I want to go to him, to offer him the comfort of my touch, my body, but I don’t. We’ve both exposed our deepest secrets, stripped one another bare, and in doing so, changed the tone of our relationship. Every single one of my instincts tells me that what we both need right now is space, just a few minutes alone to regroup, to come to terms with what has happened.

  Unable to resist, I reach out, place a hand on his shoulder, and offer a little comfort. “I’m going to go get something to drink, okay?”

  He nods, and I see my thoughts, my emotions reflected in his eyes. He needs a little space as much as I do.

  I leave the room, shutting the bedroom door behind me with a small click, and head toward the kitchen. The pale white envelope Jeremy took out of his pocket when he first arrived here several long hours ago, the contents of which we still haven’t discussed, catches my eye.

  Heart pounding, I pick it up and use my fingernail to slice the top open.

  17

  Caitlin

  Sasha the cat winds lazy figure-eights between my ankles as my fingernail slices through the expensive envelope. With trembling hands, I reach inside and withdraw a small packet of papers and start reading.

  Jeremy’s lawyer is good. Really good. She’s written a contract that not only lays out the reason Jeremy and I would be getting married, but also goes to great lengths to make sure that the contract is easy for someone like me, who has no understanding of legal jargon, to understand.

  Grateful tears burn the back of my eyes by the time I finish reading the three sheets of paper the envelope contained.

  Whatever doubts I’ve had about Jeremy dissolve, replaced with a warm, bright glow that starts directly behind my breastbone.

  With regards to our marriage, should we decide to marry, everything is in my favor. The only rule I have to follow is that I won’t cheat for as long we’re wed and that same rule applies to him as well. If we get divorced, not only does Jeremy promise to not go after my business or personal possessions/wealth, but he’ll also pay an enormous alimony.

  But the part that really causes my heart to race, that gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, is what he says about any children we conceive together. He very clearly states that no matter what happens with regards to our relationship, both of us will share equally in our children’s lives and that we’ll set aside any personal differences we might have and do whatever is in our child’s best interest.

  Sasha’s rumbling purrs fill the room as I place my palm against my flat stomach. Since I wasn’t having sex, or even interested in sex, before Jeremy blasted into my life, I’ve never paid much attention to my cycles, something that would have changed if I’d decided to go through with my half-baked idea to become a surrogate.

  Now I try to count backwards to my last period. Based on what little I remember from my high school health class, it seems like it’s possible that the timing could be right, that somewhere deep inside of me, one of Jeremy’s little swimmers is getting cozy with one of my eggs and taking the first steps in what will become a life-changing event for everyone.

  I hope so.

  The thought startles me almost as much as the sound of my bedroom door swinging open. I spin on my heel, my wide eyes meeting Jeremy’s guarded expression.

  “Hey,” he says as his eyes drop to the papers clutched in my hand. “Oh.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “I guess there’s a few things we still have to discuss.”

  Nerves pulsating under my skin, I turn and cross the room to the small desk on the opposite side of the room. Jeremy’s stare practically drills holes in my back as I rummage through the drawers until I locate a dark blue pen.

  I carefully sign my name on all the dotted lines I can find. I sense more than hear Jeremy approach. He leans close, reading over my shoulder.

  “Are you sure?” His voice is whisper-soft and strangely vulnerable.

  “Yes.” The single word rings with confidence. Not only is this contract the answer to my money problems, the best answer I could have possibly come up with, but there’s no doubt in my mind that Jeremy is a good man, an honest man, and that’s something I may never find again.

  I step back away from the desk. “What about you?” I hold my breath. Just because Jeremy took the steps to have the contract drawn up, that doesn’t mean he hasn’t changed his mind in the several hours he’s hung out with me.

  Jeremy picks up the pen, twirls it around his fingers a few times, and stares down at the contract. His expression is unreadable.

  My pulse pounds against the side of my throat and a whole herd of angry frogs romp around in my stomach.

  He taps the pen against the desk and slants a sideways glance in my direction. “There’s something I should have told you before you signed.”

  “What?” It takes all my willpower not to cover my ears to block out bad news.

  “I made arrangements to put your father on Caldwell Industries’ health insurance plan. Whether you agree to marry me and have my baby or not, his medical treatments will be covered. Anything he needs, he’ll get.”

  One of the frogs leaps straight out of my stomach and lodges in my throat. “Seriously?” I can hardly believe what I’m hearing.

  Jeremy reaches out and brushes the back of his knuckles against my cheek. “Seriously,” he echoes with a somber nod.

  “But why?”

  “Because it’s the right thing to do.”

  His words swirl around my brain. Just like that I’m free. Free to stop worrying about what’s going to happen to my parents. Free to focus on building my business. Free to have a baby whenever and if ever I choose.

  I blink at Jeremy. He’s not free, I realize. The weight of everyone who works at Caldwell Industries, everyone in the community connected to his business, rests on his shoulders. In order to protect them, he needs to beat his brother in a bizarre baby race his father set in motion, and the only way that will happen is if I agree to the terms of the contract. This contract, the one that’s right in front of us.

  Now it’s my turn to reach out. My hand brushes against his arm and slides lower until my fingers thread through his. He looks down at our joined hands and I realize that, aside from casual, almost accidental, touches, this is the first time I’ve initiated contact with him.

  “The contract still stands,” I whisper. My words, my decision, effectively calms the horde of angry frogs. They’re replaced by a sense of calm, of rightness.

  Jeremy blinks owlishly at me. “Are you serious?”

  Smiling serenely, I stand on my toes and brush a light, closed-mouthed kiss across his lips. His hands settle on my waist, supporting me.

  “One hundred percent serious,” I tell him, meaning every single word. “I’m yours, as long as you still want me.”

  He releases his grip on my waist so quickly I stumble, an
d turns to the desk. Without the slightest hesitation, he grabs the pen and starts signing, wrinkling the paper in his haste. Once the last signature is in place, he turns back to me, a familiar light burning in his two-tone eyes. His mouth bends into a lusty smile and he leans close, nibbling the side of my neck.

  “Now that that’s done…” His words are hot against my skin and send a shiver coursing through me. “How about we get started on the making a baby part of the deal?”

  He cups my face between his massive hands before crushing my mouth with his. I moan against his lips before closing my eyes and leaning into his hard body. His intimate taste chases away all my doubts and inhibitions. Right here, in this moment, I won’t deny any of his requests. If he asked me to, I’d follow him through the gates of hell.

  But … there’s just one nagging little problem …

  “That sounds great.” I laugh as he starts to bear me backwards towards the couch, “but there’s something you’re forgetting.”

  “What?” he growls.

  I pat his chest. “The dinner at the special needs school. You helped me with the floral arrangements, which I’m supposed to be putting on the table in—” I rotate my wrist and glance at my watch “—about twenty minutes.”

  18

  Jeremy

  It’s a good thing that I already had a private driver parked outside Caitlin’s florist shop and that she only lives fifteen minutes away from the school; otherwise we would have been very late. As it was, Caitlin practically leaps out of the car as soon as it glides to a halt.

  I follow at a more reasonable pace and go to stand beside Caitlin, who is bouncing on the balls of her feet while she waits for my driver, Findlay, to open the trunk.