by Elks, Carrie
“Hey,” he breathed out, his lips an inch from her skin. “Hello, little baby, this is your daddy.”
Harper’s stomach moved as she took in a lungful of air.
“You stay safe in there,” he whispered. “Your mommy’s taking good care of you right now. And when you’re ready to come out, I’ll be here to look after you, too.”
He slid his hand up, his fingers caressing her skin, and Harper let out a sigh. It went straight to his groin, making him ache for her. Shit, this was so messed up.
He let out another breath, the warm air caressing her, and Harper sighed again. This time her stomach moved, until his lips were less than a half an inch from her stomach.
He closed the gap.
He slid his lips along her stomach, closing his eyes to breathe her in. Her back arched as he reached the peak of her, then kissed the dip below her breasts.
“James,” she whispered, low and deep. When he looked at her, her eyes were on fire. Her lips were parted, her breath coming in short pants, and her back arching into his touch.
He slid his hand up until his fingers feathered against her breasts, cupping them. Feeling their weight, their swell.
“For god’s sake, kiss me.” She grabbed his free hand and placed his palm against her lips.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, running his thumb across her bottom lip. He loved the way her breath caught in her throat. Christ, he wanted her; wanted to feel every inch of her body against his. Wanted to devour her in the same way she was consuming him.
She curled her fingers around the back of his neck, urging him toward her. He gave in willingly, moving until his head was over hers. She was staring up at him, blinking like he was the sun.
Slowly he lowered his head until the tip of his nose skimmed hers. They were so close he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. He let his lips brush against hers and she gasped again, until he deepened the kiss and swallowed every moan.
It was as though somebody had lit the fuse. Electricity sparked between them as they kissed, their lips moving quickly, their tongues caressing, his hands holding her so close he could feel her against him everywhere.
She looped her arms around his neck, moving closer still. Her breasts pressed against his chest and her thighs fell open, as she tugged him closer.
He braced himself against the cushions, not wanting to put any weight on her, and kissed her again, loving the feel of her soft lips, her warm mouth, and her demanding fingers digging deep into his flesh.
With a moan that vibrated against his lips, she hooked her legs around his hips, her heels digging into the back of his upper thighs. An exquisite shiver racked down his spine as he felt his groin pressing against hers. Christ, he was turned on.
She was panting against his lips, her tiny moans warmed him down to his toes. “James,” she whispered, rolling her hips until he was pressing against her again, moaning softly as her thighs tightened against his body. “I’m going crazy,” she told him. “You’re driving me… oh… you’re…”
He dipped his head, sliding his lips along her jaw, then down her neck. She shivered beneath him, her hips still rolling, and it took every atom of restraint he had not to grind himself against her.
He kissed her again and she caught his bottom lip between her teeth, dragging them against his soft flesh. Her fingers dug into his back as she moved against him, her cries becoming higher, longer, as her muscles tightened all over.
He loved how close she was. How she responded to him. His focus was her pleasure, her need, and his desperate desire to sate it.
“James,” she cried out.
“I’m here. I’ve got you.”
“I can’t stop, I can’t… ah…” Her words dissolved into the air, replaced by a long, drawn out moan as her thighs clamped around him. He watched as her head fell back, her skin flushed with pleasure, and her eyes closed as her body convulsed beneath him.
Damn, she was beautiful when she came. Watching her let go was like looking at a piece of art – nature’s masterpiece. He held her tightly as she rode the wave, his eyes drinking in her pleasure as she slowly came down.
It took a minute for her breath to regain its normal rhythm. Her back arched slowly as she sunk into the cushions, her body loose and warm beneath him. He swallowed hard. Her eyes opened, widening as she took him in.
“Oh god,” she said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do this.” Her brow dipped as she scrambled beneath him. He pulled back, releasing his hold on the cushions, as his feet slipped to the floor.
She stood and ran her hand through her hair, though it was a futile gesture. It was a tangled mess; in the end she twisted it over her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” he asked her, unsure what to say.
She could barely meet his gaze. “I should go,” she said, pulling her top down to cover her stomach. “It’s late and I need to feed this monster.”
“Harper…”
“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything. I’m sorry I took advantage of you.” She grabbed her shoes next to the sofa, pulling them onto her feet. “Thank you for talking to the baby, and for… ah… yeah. I’ll speak to you soon, okay?”
With that, she was hurrying up the stairs. He watched, bemused, as she disappeared from view. A moment later he heard the slam of the front door.
It was only as he went to leave the basement that he noticed something on the sewing table. Harper had forgotten her phone.
He shook his head with a grin. She was going to miss that thing pretty damn soon.
14
What the hell had she just done? Harper slid her key into the ignition and started up the engine, trying to ignore the way her heart was hammering against her chest. Regret and embarrassment mixed with the lingering pleasure she still felt from James’s body against hers. As she pulled out of his driveway, the cocktail of emotions made her muscles ache and her skin heat up.
It took ten minutes to drive from James’s house to the exclusive block of condos where Caitie and Breck lived, but it was nowhere near long enough to sort through the maelstrom of thoughts rushing through her mind.
Thankfully, Caitie and Breck were out when she let herself into the condo. She headed straight for her bedroom – now light and breezy thanks to the lack of clothes and rolls of fabric blocking the window. Dropping her bag onto the floor she slumped onto her bed, the mattress dipping beneath her.
“Well,” she whispered, rubbing her stomach with her palm. “I’ve made another mess, little one. Once again with your daddy. You’d think I’d have learned better by now.”
Their first encounter had led to being knocked up. Their second to her feeling and acting crazy.
“It’s kind of your fault,” she told her stomach. “If it wasn’t for all these hormones I wouldn’t have jumped him as soon as he walked through the door.”
She’d been a woman possessed; desperate, needy, and so ready to feel a body against hers.
And boy had it felt good. More than good. Delicious. But then shame had washed over her as she came out of the delicious haze, and she’d realized exactly what she’d done.
Used him for her pleasure. She’d taken without giving, and he’d let her.
And then she’d run away. She covered her face with her hands and groaned. She could still picture him standing in that basement, watching her run away, a confused expression on his face.
How was she going to face him tomorrow? She could barely face herself.
“It’s okay,” she told her bump. “We can just run away to Paris. Change our names, pretend we’re some kind of European royalty. Your daddy will never find us.”
A tiny gas bubble popped in her belly. Seriously? Now she was dealing with gas, too? There it was again, a little harder this time.
But more of a nudge than a pop.
A nudge! She sat straight up and stared down at her stomach. “Baby?” she said, rubbing her stomach. “Is that you?” She waited for a moment. “If it was you
, do it again.” Laying back down, she crossed her fingers and waited. Sure enough, a minute later, there was another push on the inside of her.
She ran her hand down her abdomen, cupping her stomach. “Hey, little one,” she crooned. “It’s so amazing to meet you. Are you feeling happy in there?”
Another tiny movement. Pure happiness washed over her.
“You stay safe in there,” she said. She swallowed hard, remembering that James said the same thing. Before she’d wrapped her legs around him and used him as a scratching post. “And if you could dial down on the hormones a little, that would be good, too,” she continued. “Not all of them. Just the ones that make me crazy whenever I look at your dad. I’m trying to be a grown up here, but you’re making it really hard.”
Hard. That made her think of James, too.
“I figure we’ll be better parents if we don’t mess things up between us. Sex always confuses things, look at my mom. She trailed around after guys like a bitch in heat, forgetting I ever existed. I don’t want that for you, baby. I want you to be number one in both our lives.” She sighed. “You deserve everything, and I plan on giving it to you.”
She closed her eyes and breathed in again, letting her body relax for the first time since she’d left James’s house. She had to be stronger, that was all. There was no need to repeat history and all of her mom’s mistakes. She was better than that.
“You’re making me tired.” Maybe she should get used to the baby being in control. It was going to be her life for the next twenty years. So she gave into the grogginess, letting her breaths even out until they were a slow, steady rhythm. Within minutes she was at the cusp of deep, lovely sleep.
* * *
“Harper?” A voice called out, reaching her through her slumber.
She sat up, her heart racing. Without thinking, she reached down to shield her bump.
“Are you here?” Caitie called out. The next minute she was pushing the bedroom door open. “Oh thank god.” She put her hand to her chest, taking in a deep breath. “I tried to call you but it kept going to voicemail. I was panicking there was something wrong.”
Harper frowned and opened her purse, but there was no phone in there. “Maybe I left it in the car,” she said, trying to remember the last time she’d seen it. Everything after leaving James’s house felt like a blur.
“But you’re okay? I was only calling to let you know we’re heading out for dinner. Breck’s home early and so we thought we’d grab some sushi.” She grimaced. “I’d ask you to come but…”
Harper lifted her hands up. “Hey, I’m all good here. No raw seafood and no public displays of affection to worry about.”
Caitie grinned, knowing she was teasing. Harper never cared about PDAs. She’d walked in on them after the first time they’d made love, after all, and managed to carry on a long conversation with Breck without blinking an eye.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Caitie asked, sitting on the end of the bed. “It’s not like you to nap in the evenings. You should slow down…”
“I know, I know.” Harper nodded. “And yeah, everything’s fine. More than fine.” She grinned. “I felt the baby move for the first time.”
“You did?” Caitie’s mouth dropped open. “That’s amazing. Can I feel it, too?”
“There’s nothing to feel at the moment; hopefully in a couple more weeks.” Harper warmed at her friend’s excitement.
“It’s getting so real.” Caitie smiled at her. “Only a few more months and we’ll get to meet him or her. Did you tell James about the kicks?”
“No. It happened once I was home, and I clearly have no idea where my phone is.”
“Let me find it for you before I head back out. Where do you think you left it?”
“Probably in my car. But I can look.” Harper swung her legs off the bed and stood up, stretching her arms out to release the kinks in her muscles. “You go back to Breck. I cause enough problems for the two of you, I don’t want to make any more.”
“You don’t cause problems. We love you being here.” The two of them walked into the hallway and Harper grabbed her car keys from the table. “Breck wants you to stay here after you give birth. He’s worried about you being on your own with the baby.”
“Scared I might drop her?” Harper teased.
“No. I think he’s scared he might not get enough baby cuddles.” Caitie shook her head and opened the door. “I swear he’s getting broodier with every day that passes. Oh!”
Her exclamation got Harper’s attention. She looked over at the front door to see the cause, her skin heating up as she met his gaze.
James. Standing in the doorway with her phone in his hand.
“Hey,” Caitie said, her voice warm. “How are you doing?
“I’m good.” He grinned, then looked at Harper. “I brought your phone over. You left it at my place.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Caitie blew Harper a kiss then gave James a peck on the cheek, before heading out into the main hallway. “See you later, guys.”
Her footsteps echoed down the hallway. Harper sucked some air through her lips as she waited for the main building door to bang. James was leaning against the doorjamb, his eyes on her, a smile playing at his lips. Why the heck was he looking so relaxed?
“Thanks for bringing it over,” she finally said, ignoring the way her heart sped up as soon as he stepped inside. Did he have to look that good? As he passed her the phone, she could smell the low notes of his cologne, and her muscles tensed.
“I figured you might need it,” he said, stopping next to her. “And I thought it might be good to have a talk. Clear the air.”
Her stomach growled, as though it agreed with every word. She laughed and shook her head. “Sorry about that. I skipped dinner in favor of a nap.”
“Let me make you something.”
She tipped her head. “Can you cook?”
“Passably. I’m a guy living on my own. It’s either that or starve.”
She shrugged and led him into the kitchen. “I’ve no idea what’s in the refrigerator,” she warned him. “I went to the grocery store on Sunday but I got distracted by the chocolate. The rest is a haze.”
He laughed and pulled the refrigerator door open, making the light flicker on. She could see the dimple in his jaw tick as he took in the contents. “You have eggs,” he said, pulling the carton out. “And some herbs and cheese. I’ll make us omelets.”
“I’ll grab the pan,” she said, scooting down and pulling it out of the cupboard. He took it from her and placed it on the stove top.
“Take a seat,” he suggested.
“You sure I can’t help?”
“I’m pretty confident I can handle an omelet, Harper. But you can help by showing me where everything is.”
A minute later, they were both silent as he broke the eggs into a large glass bowl and whipped them with a fork until they were creamy. He poured a spoonful of oil into the pan, then poured the eggs in, swishing them around until they were clinging to the bottom of the pan.
He pulled the grater out of the utensil drawer and slid the cheese against it, tiny strings raining down into the bowl. Even after the craziness of today, Harper couldn’t help but smile as she watched him work. He was so damn capable.
It was making her hot, again.
“I don’t think a guy’s ever cooked for me before,” she told him. “Most of my exes only knew how to order takeout.”
“Maybe that’s the different between boys and men.” He shrugged. “Nutrition is important. Takeout is okay once in a while, but if it’s your main source of food then eventually you’re going to get sick.”
“Do you cook for yourself every night?” She placed her chin on her palm, her eyes still following his every move.
“Mostly. It’s pretty easy when I’m on days. I have my groceries delivered so I have a choice of what to eat. When I’m on night shift I try to at least cook breakfast before I head for bed.” He glanced at he
r. “Where are the plates?”
She pointed at the cupboard hanging over the counter and he reached up to take two out. His t-shirt lifted with the movement, and she swallowed hard.
It was impossible not to remember the delicious weight of him as he held himself over her on his sofa, their bodies pressed together. And those lips, those teasing lips. She wanted to feel them all over her again.
“Can you tuck your t-shirt in?” she asked him, pulling her eyes away, determined not to let the hormones win this time.
He grinned and tucked the fabric into his waistband, as though he knew exactly the effect he was having on her.
“And maybe next time you can wear some looser jeans,” she suggested, on a roll now. “The kind that don’t hug your butt and thighs like they want to be your best friend.”
James laughed. “You want me to wear baggy clothes?”
“Only when you’re around me.” Harper traced a vein in the marble worktop. “It’s for your own protection. From my crazy hormones. You don’t want a repeat of today.”
“Don’t I?”
She looked up, her eyes catching his. He held her gaze as he sprinkled the cheese onto the omelet, expertly folding it before sliding it onto the plate. Grabbing a knife and fork from the drawer, he slid the plate over to her. “Eat,” he said, nodding at the food.
She speared a forkful and slid it between her lips, tasting the seasoned eggs and oozing cheese as they lingered on her tongue. “Dear god, is there nothing you can’t do?” she asked him between mouthfuls. “Saving lives, cooking. I bet next you’ll tell me you can do your own laundry, too.”
“What kind of guys have you been hanging out with?” he asked, a smile curling his lips as he cracked more eggs for himself.
“The wrong ones clearly,” she mumbled after another mouthful. “Actors, mostly.”
“Ones who can’t cook?” He shook his head. “It’s not rocket science. I’m thirty-four-years-old, Harper. If I couldn’t cook or do laundry there’d be something wrong with me. Sounds like maybe you set your bars too low.”