Faking it with #41

by Piper Rayne

  He presses me into the hollow car door opening, and I slide my hand down the front of him until my fingers anchor into the waistband of his slacks. I’m starved for this man. Saige is right—someone has to get him, it might as well be me.

  A few whistles call out from somewhere behind us, but Ford doesn’t stop, his mouth unrelenting.

  I finally pull away, my cheeks heating from our witnesses. “Maybe we should cool it.”

  He rests his forehead on my shoulder with a groan. “That did nothing to quench my thirst for you, Lena. I hope you know that we’re not even close to done.”

  I inhale and make the decision to step off the ledge. Whatever happens, happens. I relinquish control because I’m taking something for me this time. “Who said I wanted to be done?”

  “Fuck, you might be the death of me.” He captures my mouth in a soft, quick kiss, steps back, and waits for me to slide in the front seat.

  Once I’m secure, he rounds the hood of the car and folds himself into his seat. He shoots me a look that I can only see thanks to the glow of the parking light above, but I interpret it as a promise. I clench my thighs together with the thought of what he’s going to do to me once we’re alone and how long I’ve waited to find out.

  I drive out of the parking lot. She finally made the move and I’m going to take advantage no matter if it’s a bonehead decision. I want her and lately I feel like I can’t breathe around her.

  “You gotta hold that thought for about twenty minutes. Think of nothing else but that kiss and where it might’ve gone if we were alone.”

  “And your daughter in the back seat?” she says with a laugh.

  I ease off the gas. “Yes, God, I hope she goes down easy tonight.”

  Lena squirms in her seat. I really hope she’s thinking about having me inside her, what my hands will feel like on her skin.

  The drive to my house seems as though it takes about an hour longer than it does, but when I pull in the driveway and park my Mercedes next to the Bronco, the rush of passion recedes for a moment and I decide I need to really make sure this is what she wants.

  But the minute the garage door shuts behind the car and I glance at her, she leans in and crushes her lips to mine. My hands land on each side of her face, not wanting her to go anywhere. Our tongues rush into one another’s mouth, and we collide with a force so strong, I know I’ve never wanted anyone like I want Lena.

  The question plagues me though. Do I only want her because she’s forbidden? I really hope that’s not it and I don’t wake up tomorrow thinking my dick made a mistake again. Wouldn’t be the fi​​rst time.

  I tear my lips off hers, and her swollen red lips glisten, making me go rock hard. “I need you now. Let me get Annabelle to bed.”

  I open the door, head to the back, and grab Annabelle. Meanwhile, Lena slowly climbs out of the passenger seat, following us inside.

  “How about I make the bottle while you change her?” Lena offers as I take Annabelle out of the car seat.

  “I think I want to kiss you again,” I say, leaning into her as she pulls the formula from the cabinet.

  Over Annabelle, I kiss the living shit out of Lena. Sorry, little girl, but you’ll never remember this anyway.

  “Hurry,” I say.

  “Just go and worry about yourself.” She chuckles.

  I walk upstairs to Annabelle’s room and change her diaper, then I put on the onesie she’s slept the longest in with the hope that she sleeps through the night again. I’m not even done when Lena’s leaning on the doorframe.

  “I guess I’m faster,” she says with a coy smile.

  “You don’t need to worry about me being fast.” I wink and sit in the rocker.

  Lena hands me the bottle before sitting on the floor. Her legs are propped up with her arms around them as she looks around the room. “You really need to decorate this room. Make it hers. She’s getting older.”

  “Have at it,” I tell her. “She has what she needs.”

  She shakes her head. “Men.”

  I poke her side with my foot. “What does that mean?”

  “It means your attention to detail sucks. She needs pretty things in here. And look at her closet.” She rises and I’m rewarded with her perfect ass in a pair of jeans. I can’t wait to spank it. “Half of these have tags. You need to dress her in more than just onesies.”

  “Because my mom bought most of them. I’m not putting her in a dress every day. And shoes? Explain why she needs shoes.”

  She laughs and comes back over. “Still, paint the room. She’s growing every day, and pretty soon she’ll need a space that feels like hers.” She leans over me and watches Annabelle, who is unusually fussy with the bottle, taking more breaks than usual and squirming in my arms. “Is she okay?”

  It’s then I notice the sweat along Annabelle’s hairline. “Do me a favor, can you get the thermometer in my bathroom?”

  Lena’s face turns serious and she heads into my bathroom, returning a minute later with my thermometer. “You know this isn’t accurate for a baby, right?”

  I take it from her and scan Annabelle’s forehead. It says she’s just over one hundred. What the hell? She’s been healthy since birth. “What do we do?”

  Lena smiles at me. “We need a real thermometer, and babies run hotter anyway. I’m taking it you don’t have the old-school kind?”

  “The ear thing? The nurse told me to get this when I had strep last year.” I hold up the thermometer.

  “Strep, huh?”

  I tilt my head. “I have big tonsils.”

  She laughs and goes to the large closet where I stuffed most of the things people have bought for Annabelle. “Big tonsils. That’s interesting.”

  “It’s not the only big thing of mine.”

  She bends down, digging through items. I don’t remember anyone giving me a thermometer. I got a lot of clothes and shampoo. Enough shampoo to last Annabelle’s entire life. “Do you often compare your member to others?”

  I pick up Annabelle to burp her since she’s not eating. “Might only be Maksim who beats me. But Maksim beats everyone.”

  She glances at me over her shoulder. “I do not need to know that.”

  “Well, if things go the way we want tonight, it was a warning to prepare yourself.”

  She pulls out a box and sets it on the changing table, looking at me before opening it. “Prepare myself? Should I do some Kegel exercises?”

  “It wouldn’t hurt.”

  Her head is buried in the box, so I have no idea what reaction my comment earned, but she pulls out a thin thermometer. “Thank you”—she turns over the box—“Aunt Claudia.”

  “The only practical one in my family.”

  Annabelle lets out a huge burp and we both freeze because she’s never sounded like that before—like a grown man who just did a keg stand.

  Then I feel warmth on my back, and the rancid smell of vomit fills the room. When I pull her away from my chest, I see that she looks flushed and sweaty. “I think she’s sick.”

  “Let’s take her temperature, and after, you should call the doctor.” Lena reaches for Annabelle, so I pass her over. “Go change and I’ll get her out of the onesie to prepare her for you to take her temperature.”

  I stop, unbuttoning my shirt. “What do you mean, prepare?”

  “We have to take a rectal temperature.”

  My eyes widen. “Rectal?”

  “In her anus.”

  I want to cover my ears and scream. “Anus and my daughter should never be used in the same sentence.”

  She laughs and wipes Annabelle’s mouth with a wet wipe.

  “How do you know so much?”

  “I used to nanny through my summers in college.”

  It makes sense now how she takes everything with Annabelle in stride.

  “You can do it. Let me know what it is.” I start to walk away, but she keeps one hand on Annabelle and grabs my wrist to stop me.

  “You’re her f
ather. You have to learn and I’ll teach you.”

  I shiver all over, unwinding myself from Lena’s grip to go change. The entire time I’m changing, I can’t stop thinking about putting something in my baby girl’s butt. How uncomfortable for her and ugh, I just can’t do it. A man has his limits.

  Minutes later, I’m in a T-shirt and sweats. Lena looks me up and down as though she’d like to eat me up with a spoon. Twenty minutes ago, I was game for it, but now I’m thinking about all the times I’ve had anal sex with someone else’s daughter.

  “I don’t think I can do it,” I say with a pleading look.

  “Yes, you can.” She tugs me closer. “I’m going to put her on her stomach and arch her up. We’ll put the thermometer in some Vaseline then gently insert it in her bum.”

  “Fuck, stop saying shit like that. Just be vague.” I reach for the thermometer and retract my hand with a full-body shiver before I touch it, fully aware that I’m acting immature. This is my daughter, and she needs me. I’ve been put in more uncomfortable situations since she’s been born than my entire life before she existed.

  This is your daughter and she needs you, I repeat in my head, then pick up the thermometer slowly.

  “Okay. Okay.” She places her hand over mine. “We’ll do this together.”

  She dips the thermometer in the Vaseline and raises it up, moving it toward Annabelle’s little bottom. I want to close my eyes, but Lena’s staring at me, not Annabelle. “You can do this.”

  “I know I can. I just don’t want to.”

  Slowly, we insert the thermometer and Annabelle doesn’t even flinch.

  “Now we just wait a minute.” She raises her wrist to look at her watch.

  “A minute?” I groan and rock my head back and forth. “What if she’s sick?”

  “Then we call the doctor.”

  “Then we go to the hospital,” I say definitively.

  “No, we’ll call the doctor and go from there.”

  She’s insane. I’m not taking any chances at this time of the night. She might think I’m crazy, but we’re going to the hospital.

  Finally, a minute goes by and we retract the thermometer. She raises it up to the light. I have no idea how she’s even reading the fucking thing, it’s so small.

  “She’s one-oh-four,” Lena says and bites her lip, diverting eye contact.

  “Let’s get her dressed, we’re going.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Ford.”

  “Lena,” I bite out, panicked for my daughter.

  She shrugs. “Fine. But—” She must see something in my expression because she cuts herself off from the fight she wants to give me.

  I put on Annabelle’s diaper and a new onesie, taking her downstairs to her carrier. Lena comes down with her computer and a sweatshirt.

  “By all means, anything else you’d like to grab?”

  “We’re going to be there a while. The emergency room at this time of night will be busy.”

  “You don’t have to come,” I say.

  She stops and glares at me. “I’m coming.”

  “Fine then, let’s go.”

  I’m anxious and angry and lashing out, I know, but I can’t help myself.

  We file into the Mercedes and Lena puts on her seat belt while I get Annabelle in the back.

  “You drive. I’m sitting back here with her,” I say.

  She chuckles and climbs out, rounding the car and accepting the keys over her shoulder once she’s in the driver’s seat.

  “I don’t understand why this is so funny,” I say while she pulls out of my garage and reverses down the driveway.

  “Because you’re overreacting like a first-time parent.”

  “I am a first-time parent.” My anger is apparent in my tone. “She probably caught something at the game. You shouldn’t have taken her.”

  “It wouldn’t have happened that quick and now you’re blaming me?” She turns out of my neighborhood.

  “I’m just saying. She’s a baby.”

  “And you’ve had me take her before.” Her eyes are narrowed in the rearview mirror. “I thought you wanted us to be there.”

  I run a hand through my hair. “Not now that she’s sick.”

  “It’s not from the game. She caught a bug. I’m sure she’s okay.”

  “Did I miss you going through med school?”

  She drives in silence.

  Of course, I can’t control my anger. I hate having no control over this situation right now. “What is this, Driving Miss Daisy? Hit the gas.”

  She blows out a breath and accelerates.

  “It’s not The Fast and the Furious either,” I bite out.

  “What the fuck do you want?” she yells, and I’m taken aback by her anger. “I’m about to pull over and you can handle this yourself while I hitchhike back to the house.”

  “Hitchhike? No one hitchhikes anymore. Might as well just cut off your own head.”

  I notice her hands tighten on the steering wheel and she pushes back in the driver’s seat.

  Thankfully, the hospital signs come into view. I touch Annabelle’s forehead, which is still hot and sweaty. Lena pulls into the emergency area and puts the car in park.

  “What, are you not coming inside?” I ask, getting out and unhooking Annabelle from the carrier base.

  “I need some space. I’ll see you in there.”

  We’re barely out of the car, the door not even shut, when she slams on the gas and drives away.

  I guess I’m not getting laid tonight. Just as well. I probably dodged a bullet.

  Annabelle squawks and I look at her. “You’re my number one anyway.”

  I want to drive away and leave him on his own because of the ass he’s being. Blaming me for taking his daughter to the game and getting her sick? Screw him.

  But instead of leaving, I park in a spot and think. We were this close to having sex. Maybe this is yet another sign from the universe that we need to keep our distance from one another in that respect.

  With a sigh, I get out of the car, grabbing my computer bag and sweatshirt. I want to hear it from the doctor’s mouth when they say what’s wrong with her. Although I think it’s a bug of some sort and she’ll recover with some Tylenol, fluids, and sleep, I could be wrong. Ford’s right, I’m not a doctor.

  When I enter through the emergency room doors, I find Ford arguing with the nurse that this is an emergency and his daughter needs to be seen as soon as possible. I walk over to see that Annabelle has thrown up again.

  I take the carrier, but Ford grips it harder until he sees that it’s me, then he loosens his grip, an apologetic expression on his face. Getting some wipes from the diaper bag, I clean Annabelle, but her bottom lip trembles and she cries softly. I pull her out of the carrier, not caring that she’s covered in vomit. Holding her, I continue to clean her up as I rock her.

  “Is this the mother?” the nurse asks with a nod in my direction.

  Ford looks at me for a moment, his back stiff. “Yes.”

  I try not to act surprised he said that.

  “Let me get a nurse.” The woman leaves the desk and heads into the back.

  Ford comes over to me. “They wouldn’t have allowed you in otherwise.”

  I nod, but in this moment, I feel a seed of something that’s been planted inside me. To have this man as my husband and Annabelle be our baby… what would that life look like? Shaking my head, I try to decipher when my brain changed its mind about Ford Jacobs. When did he turn into a man I’m envisioning as my husband and not the spoiled prick who makes me nutty?

  He comes toward me, taking over the cleaning while I hold Annabelle, and I know from the outside that we look like the real thing. “I just want to find out what’s wrong with her. What if it’s something serious?”

  I don’t say anything, allowing the anger between us to disperse a little. This is his daughter. Of course he’s protective of her, and if it makes him feel better to bring her here, then what really i
s the harm? “Hopefully it’s just a cold.”

  He throws away a handful of wipes. “Want me to take her?”

  I hand her over because she is his after all. I take the diaper bag and lean along the wall, watching him with her. He’s kissing her forehead and murmuring to her. I’m not close enough to hear, but I’ve never seen this look on his face before. It takes me a while to piece it all together, but it’s a look of love and concern. When you think you might lose something you can’t live without. Seeing that facial expression on Ford sears my heart. Yeah, I think maybe he could be someone’s husband and a damn good one at that. But I’m not sure that’s something he wants.

  The nurse comes out from the back. “Okay, Mr. Jacobs. Come with me.”

  We file through the doors and are ushered to a room with a small bassinet. The nurse takes Annabelle from Ford’s hands, placing her in the bassinet.

  “She’s thrown up, what, three times?” He looks at me. “And her fever is one hundred and four. We took it the right way.”

  The nurse looks at him in question, taking the stethoscope from around her neck.

  “You know.” Ford moves his ass out and points.

  I bite my lip to stop from laughing.

  “Rectal?” she asks.

  He cringes. “Yes.”

  “Okay. That’s good. Let me get her vitals and we’ll go from there. You two sit down and relax.”

  I sit. Ford paces.

  After the nurse listens to Annabelle’s heart and lungs, she touches her forehead, putting the thermometer in the armpit. Ford shoots me a glare and I shrug.

  “She is running hot,” she confirms. “Her lungs and heart sound great though. I’m going to talk to the doctor, and we’ll see where he wants to go from there. Let’s just keep her in her diaper for the meantime.”

  “How long will that take?” Ford asks.

  She smiles at me as though she understands what I deal with when in reality, I don’t know this version of this man who cares about someone who’s not himself. “Not long.”

  “That’s not really an answer…”

  “Ford, just relax.”

  He looks at me and I square my shoulders. Better for me to take his wrath than the nurse.