by Nikki Wild
My balls tightened and pulled up, a prelude to an orgasm. The way she had me mounting her satisfied that beast I’d been trying to tame for so long, yet drove it to a frenzy that could only end one way. When Liz made small circles with her movements, my pace crescendoed into something more staccato and frenetic. I longed to hear the symphony of flesh on flesh, the wet beating of our bodies as I plunged so very deeply into her.
“Look at me,” I rasped. She had her eyes closed, teeth embedded in her lip, long lashes fluttering with each of my strokes. “Look at me, love. Let me see you.”
Liz turned her face, just a little. Her lids raised. Her hazy, love-drunk gaze met mine, and though her teeth didn’t leave her lip, the corners quirked up in a lazy, devious smile.
Oh, shit. There was no resisting that look.
“Fuck,” I grunted, pressing my forehead to her temple as my center gave way, spilling my contents into her in rapid-fire bursts. Stars flared and died behind my eyelids and I kissed Liz’s cheek, breathing every one of my moans right into her skin. I twitched hard inside her, hard enough that she gasped and flinched with surprise. Each torrent of it nearly took me off my knees, threatening to bring me to a state of collapse. Liz shushed me softly, lips finding mine, kissing at the juncture of where my ragged breathing met my stubble.
I held onto her for dear life. I needed to know she was there. I needed her to feel that I was, too. I needed both of us to believe that we would never be separated again. I needed this moment to last for as long as it could, forever if possible. Though even forever might not have been long enough. Not when it came to Liz.
Slowly, seemingly of its own accord, the hand that wasn’t holding me up slipped out of Liz’s hair and down her back. Then around her side, crossing the expanse of flesh that sat between the curve of her waist and her hip, and finally, coming to rest upon her stomach. No, a bit lower that that—just under her navel. Where the ultrasound tech had pressed that wand and given me my first glimpse of our baby. The child that Liz—beautiful, brilliant, brave Liz—was nourishing and caring for even now.
I wondered if she knew she did the same for me. I resolved to tell her. Lifting my head, I met her gaze again. But the gentleness I found in her eyes told me she already knew.
So I said nothing. Nothing, as I rolled onto my side and pulled her with me, staying deep inside her the way I knew she liked. Nothing, as I drew her back against my chest and hid my face in the juncture of her shoulder and neck, inhaling the scent of her there. Nothing, as I wrapped one arm tight across her chest, between her breasts, to keep her pressed tight to me right where she belonged. Nothing, as I let my other hand remain upon her stomach, drumming out a beat I hoped the little one could hear. Its father was a musician, after all. It was in his blood.
Even as sleep pulled at me, and her—even as I wondered if I ought to tell her, not only how special she was, but how loved by me she’d become—I said nothing. I just held her, and in time she placed her hand in my own, and I drifted to sleep with my wife helping me tap out that soft rhythm against the place our child grew.
Sometimes, whether in lyrics or prose, or stuttered confessions deeply felt, you just don’t need words.
23
Elizabeth
Julian and I lay beside one another on his bed, his arm draped over my naked form just as we’d done back in New York, and even here, after everything that had happened, it still felt so goddamn right. I closed my eyes and basked in the glow of his warmth beside me, wrapped up in his silk sheets, too lazy to move. Too pleased to even entertain the thought of doing much more than stealing as many minutes and hours as I could with him.
For once, I could finally put a name to the reason why sleeping with Julian felt so much more fulfilling than it ever had with anyone else; I’d never really been in love with any of them. Sure, I had cared. Some of them were nice, and with some of them, we even ended up remaining friends. But in the end, it had never been about a relationship for either of us. Not really. It had been about connecting, about feeling wanted for a while, about getting laid.
And yet whenever Julian and I made love, I could feel the way that the two of us connected, our bodies moving in such sweet tandem as we eased each other into cresting and crashing. That was part of being in love, wasn’t it? Looking after your partner’s needs before you looked after your own? Making sure that they got what they needed? I’d never felt that for anyone I’d been with before. Not even my first time had been like that. Every other time, with everyone else, all it had ever been about was the physical.
But Julian made it about so much more than that—it was about being close to someone and knowing that they would be there, no matter what. It was about sharing something spectacular, some parts of us that no one else would ever know. I had read somewhere that married couples, contrary to popular belief, ended up having a lot more sex than their unmarried counterparts. Now I thought maybe I knew why. There was just something different about it. Something totally fulfilling.
My thoughts wandered slowly from the man beside me and finally to the child growing within. My child. Our child. The idea of becoming a mother had seemed so unreal, so abstract, before we saw the ultrasound. I could still feel Julian’s hand grasping mine as the technician showed us which shape among the countless others was ours. Not just mine, but also his. And I marveled at the distinction, the knowledge that something of Julian’s existed inside of me.
No turning back now, I thought, softly caressing Julian’s hand, over his knuckles, and up along his arm, drawing a soft, satisfied moan from his throat. You’re in it for the long haul.
I couldn’t stop myself from smiling as I gently let my head rest back against his chest, breathing in the scent of him as we both dozed lightly through our afterglow. I knew that things might not be all sunshine and rainbows through all of this, but it was the moments like these made the struggle worth it.
But as with all things in life, our post-coital bliss couldn’t last forever, and soon I could feel the press of reality creeping back into my mind, banishing our warm and sentimental glow with a chill wind of truth.
I knew who’d done this to us…
As though he could sense my unease, Julian stirred, pulling me close as I turned my gaze to look up into his eyes. Concern was writ plain across his face in the creasing of his eyes, the furrow of his brow. Still, his was a face I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of—a gorgeous, compassionate, covered-in-stubble face with a pair of lips that were just begging to be kissed.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, running his hand over my hip and raising goosebumps as she went. I indulged my whim, kissing his mouth, and he sighed when I pulled away from him after. “You look like you’re upset.”
“I’m just thinking,” I said, trying not to worry him too much.
“About who would do this to us,” he rumbled, shaking his head before resting it against mine. “There are only a handful of people who knew about what was really going on between us,” he continued thoughtfully. “You, me, your friend Jen, Tessa, and Lewis, my lawyer. Tessa had been talking to him about a contract you’d have to sign.”
“And I thought that I couldn’t like her any less,” I said, sighing in frustration. “Fucking Tessa.”
“She can be difficult, but Tessa has always looked out for me…” he said quietly.
“She’s been playing us both from the very beginning. Who was there for almost every step of this arrangement?” I asked him, though I continued on without waiting for an answer. “Who made sure the press constantly saw me and you together? Who knew where we’d be at all times?”
“You can’t honestly be saying that Tessa planned to get you pregnant,” Julian said, incredulity spreading across his face. That would have been insane.
“I’m saying she took advantage of the opportunity!” I shouted.
“I know you didn’t get along, but I don’t think you ever did anything to make her want to screw me over like that, or put that much work in
to screwing you. Plus that entire marriage arrangement scheme was her plan. Why would she want to ruin it?”
“I don’t know,” I said again, shaking my head as I tried to figure out more ways to connect the dots. Somewhere in all of this was a more complete picture. I just wasn’t sure how it all fit yet.
“Think about it, Julian,” I said. “Tessa is pretty much the only person who comes out of this on top. Whether you and I ended up together or we split, she was still planning to take advantage of the situation.”
“She did always say that any press was good press,” he murmured. “And up until we were about to have that press conference after the story leaked, she’d seemed totally fine about the two of us being together. It wasn’t until I mentioned that I cared about you that she started getting angry.”
“Angry? Why?” I asked as he sat up beside me. “Why would she care? If we really were in love, that just would have made us all look better at the press conference. Wouldn’t it?”
“You’d think so,” he said with a shrug. “But she kept going on about how it wasn’t a part of the plan. Made a huge deal about how she’d worked too hard—”
“She said the exact same thing to me!” I said, my eyes widening. “I tried to get a hold of you after your press meeting, and she answered the phone. Oh, my God!” I gently slapped his arm. He pretended it hurt. “She shut off my cell phone!”
“What?”
I nodded emphatically. “When I got in the car after the ultrasound, I noticed I didn’t have any texts or voicemails or missed calls—not one. Usually Jen is so good about calling me or checking in, but there was nothing. Then when I tried to call you, I got a message that my phone service had been disconnected. I had to have it turned back on using the landline at the hotel. Julian… no one knew my account details except for Tessa, and that was only because she’d insisted on knowing everything there was to know about me so she could get ahead of any bad press.”
Tessa was going to have to go, but before I could let that happen, I knew that both Julian and I needed answers—answers that only the woman who had caused so much of our suffering over this last week could provide. And if I had anything to say about it, she wouldn’t be leaving without singing like a damn canary.
I was through with being taken advantage of. I had all I needed in that bed with me—my husband, the truth, and our child growing inside me.
24
Julian
I couldn’t believe how nervous I was about all of this. For the last ten years, Tessa had been the one person in my life I thought I could trust—the one person I was sure would always do what was best for me. But after what I’d realized the night before, there was hardly any doubt in my mind—she was the only person who had the kind of access to my life that would allow her to orchestrate this mess.
She’d always gone on and on about how it was important for me to be out in the public eye—for at least one newspaper to be running some kind of story on me. God forbid I ever wanted to be doing something that wasn’t sensational or scandalous. She’d been pushing me to be some kind of drunken rock god.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Liz asked, resting her hand on my shoulder. The way she grazed her thumb along the cord of my muscle there was very soothing to me.
“No,” I said, turning to lock my gaze with hers, “but I’ve got no other choice. If I don’t confront her, then nothing will ever change. I want answers—we both deserve answers—and I’m going to bloody well get them.”
“All right,” she said, nodding solemnly. “I’m with you all the way.”
The plan was simple—or at least, I hoped it was going to be simple. I would invite Tessa up to talk about the Liz situation. When she got here, Liz was going to keep out of sight until I brought up the little game Tessa was playing.
“I hope this works,” I whispered, taking Liz’s hand in mine and squeezing, uncertain of who I was trying to reassure more: her, or myself. No matter how this went down, I would be down a manager, either because I’d fired her or because she’d quit. One way or another, I’d be left in a lurch. And depending on Tessa’s reaction, and just how well she could spin a story, things might be even worse than all that.
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t, I thought as I motioned for Liz to keep quiet while I phoned Tessa. After my little outburst the previous day, I had a feeling that she might not take my call.
I tapped her picture in my contact list. The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring a second time before I heard the line open up.
“Called to apologize, have you?” Tessa said, doing her best to sound impassive. “Well, let’s have it then, Julian. Say you’re sorry.”
I had to fight the overwhelming urge to hang up then and there. It was a sheer testament to my willpower that I didn’t. My heart was racing, my hands balling into fists as I tried not to let any of the wealth of fury I harbored for this woman creep into my voice.
“I’m sorry, Tessa,” I said, teeth gritted ever so slightly. I wanted to scream, to slither right through that phone and shake her, but I had to keep a civil tongue in my head—for both mine and Liz’s sakes.
“That’s a good lad,” Tessa said, and I could just imagine the smug smile on her face. “Now, was there something else, or can I go back to having my bath?”
“I wanted to talk about our plan,” I said. “I think it’s time I made a few more statements to the press. I’m ready to ride this wave.”
“You’ve finally come ‘round to your senses then?” she asked. I didn’t reply straight away, and she chuckled. “Well, first—”
“Not over the phone,” I said, so quickly and with such vehemence I’d basically shouted it into the receiver. Swallowing my rage once again, I did my best to recover. “I mean… I’d really rather talk about all of this in person. That way, we can be sure there’s no one around to eavesdrop—I’ve learned my lesson from last time.”
“Good Lord, it’s a Christmas miracle, and it’s not even July yet!” I rolled my eyes and held the phone away from my ear as peals of Tessa’s laughter echoed through the speaker. “All right, Julian, we’ll meet at your place. I’ll be there in about an hour to go over everything I’ve worked out.”
“See you then,” I said, trying to sound as normal as possible, though it was around that moment I remembered why I’d turned down all the film roles I’d ever been offered: I was a bloody terrible actor.
“Do you think she bought it?” Liz asked as I ended the call. I set the phone down on the coffee table in front of me. She took a seat at my side, pressing her cheek against my shoulder until I turned and kissed her forehead.
“I can only hope so, love.”
We spent the better part of that hour or so anxiously waiting. I didn’t know what I could expect from a professional liar like Tessa. She had the power to influence my career whether she was my manager or not.
She was well-connected in the industry. Well-respected, too. Who were her peers going to believe—the woman with a sterling reputation and a fantastic poker face, or the drunken rock god who took every chance he could to fuck things up for himself? Sure, I had Liz on my side, but her name had already been dragged through the mud. Any way you cut it, this was one hell of a gamble.
“Hide in my bedroom until I get her talking,” I told Liz as the sound of knocking at my door nearly made us both jump out of our skins. There was no more time for revisions, no turning back from this now. We had to move forward, whatever the outcome. “And no matter what, I want you to keep the phone rolling the entire time—even if she doesn’t say anything overtly incriminating. You never know when she might slip up.”
Liz gave me a firm nod and crept into the bedroom, closing the door almost all the way, but leaving just enough of a crack for her to get a good view of me and Tessa as we talked. I watched as she readied her cell phone.
My heart was thrumming frantically in my throat as I made my way toward the front door, looking through the peephole just to make
sure it was her. Sure enough, Tessa was outside, looking impatient as usual in what looked to be a new blouse and tight pencil skirt—the kind I knew I’d seen at the last fashion show we’d been invited to. Someone was already reaping the rewards of their little scheme, and the sight of her only served to enrage me all the more.
“Tessa. Come on in,” I said as I opened the door, keeping my tone as even as I could manage—having my feelings in check wasn’t a normal state of affairs for me, especially when it came to anger. I was the kind of person to have it out if I was mad, to shout and let it loose so I could move on, and having Tessa standing in my flat in brand new, expensive clothes almost brought me to my boiling point.
“It’s about time you came to your senses,” she said, her devil-red heels—Fitting, I thought—clicking like a metronome as she stepped inside.
I took a deep, slow breath, my eyes cast toward my bedroom door where I could see the glint of the phone’s camera peeking out. I only hoped that Tessa was brazen enough to spill her guts about what she’d done if she’d thought she’d gotten away with it. She’d never been above gloating, that was for sure.
“I guess so,” I said, unwilling to add much fuel to this conversation—Tessa was the kind who’d go on all damn day, if you let them.
“I mean, she must have thought you were an idiot,” she continued, turning to look at me with a laugh. “Thinking that she could just take you for all you had over some brat she claimed was yours. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already pregnant when you met. We should definitely push for a paternity test.”
“Yeah, must’ve thought I was a real tool,” I said, making an abominable face at her as she turned her back. “I guess I’m just an easy mark…”
“Too right,” Tessa laughed, her smile widening as she began to buy into the idea that I was on her side. “As though she could pull the wool over your eyes—especially with me watching your back. Honestly, Jules, if I hadn’t been there…”