Chapter 36 – Juliana
T here’s something extra delicious about sex in the middle of the afternoon on a work day.
My nipples rub across the fabric of the ottoman, a prickle that only heightens the sensations rocking through me.
We barely made it out of the half-finished nursery, me tearing at his belt buckle and him grappling with my bra.
God, I didn’t expect it to still be this good at twenty-eight weeks.
“Fuck, Juliana. I love how your pussy grips my cock. Think you can come again?”
“Yes… don’t stop,” I pant, my body vibrating with pleasure when he thrusts forward again, slamming my ass back against his taut thighs while his hand is busy teasing my clit. How long can an orgasm last? Because this is freaking intense.
He groans in response, jerking me upright and twisting me around to claim a kiss. Our tongues wrestle and his thumb strokes my nub just so until I break apart for him, gasping and shaking as a second wave overwhelms me.
I collapse back down to all fours. My knees are sore, and I don’t care.
I’m wantonly begging him to fuck me harder and faster, dying for him to find his release, too.
“Fuck… fuck… fuck…” he grunts, ripping his sweaty white t-shirt over his head before his hands are back, clamping down like steel traps on my hips while he moves me back and forth over his cock.
Jutting my ass back, I take more of him in, as much as I possibly can.
His rhythm stalls and I can feel that telling jerk before his cum fills me.
Lowering myself down further on my elbows, I smile as he lazily caresses my ass while catching his breath. “Goddamn, honey. I had no idea sanding got you going that way,” he huffs at last.
“Maybe you need a special play room at Sable for that next to Santi’s doctor room. Manly men building things to work the ladies up.” He laughs, but I can’t deny watching Liam hard at work did things to me.
As for work itself, I gave up my office space last week.
Liam’s large house has five bedrooms and he’s already converted one of them for me to use.
Miles will be coming over here three days a week up until I deliver, but he’s off today.
I had just finished reworking the university library design to suit his flighty client’s latest tastes and went in search of Liam to tell him when I found him in the nursery.
His hair a bit ruffled, his fitted white tee on that tanned body, a light coating of wood shavings clinging to his muscular forearms and his bewitching grin, I had to have him right then.
“If this is the benefit I’m going to reap from building our baby’s crib, I’m turning to furniture making full time for employment,” he teases, helping me up so we can clean up.
I’m glad he can joke about it. It’s been a difficult time for him at work with the tension between him and his father while the board dragged their feet on a decision.
They haven’t spoken, a cold war at work, and sharing the same space must absolutely suck.
Luckily, the board finally chose good sense yesterday and voted unanimously to remove Jock Culver from his CEO position at Culver Development and Construction.
In typical tyrannical fashion, he’s declared war on the board and his intentions of taking down the company his family founded decades ago.
As for who will take his place, that’s not yet decided, but I have faith it will be someone else with the last name Culver. If he wants it.
“I’m not certain I do,” he admits when we’re talking that over in the nursery as he returns to what he was working on before I jumped him.
“It’s your decision, of course, but why not?”
“I don’t mind the office work, but I like construction more.
I liked helping with the builds. I enjoyed getting my hands dirty.
I like having a hand in the club, too. I don’t know if I want something as stressful and time-consuming as being CEO.
Ethan spent over a decade in suits every day and played endless rounds of golf with other executives because they enjoyed it, not because he did.
Dean’s the COO of his company and it drives him nuts sometimes.
I want to pursue my own path. That’s part of what drew me to starting up Sable with Hudson and Santi.
I want to be around at home more, too. Especially as we get closer to the due date.
I want to be a dad. That’s the job I’m most excited about right now. ”
My heart flutters from his sweetness. He’s not said those three little words again and I’ve not said them to him but I know they’re there inside me now, as sure as our baby is. I’m certain of it. Speaking of our baby though…
“Ooh, I think all the activity gave the little eggplant a case of the hiccups.”
“As long as you’re not having contractions again.”
Poor Liam was extremely worried by the Braxton Hicks contractions I experienced after sex last week.
I told him they were common and he’s read about them, too, but he still quizzed Dr. Mallard, Santi and even Maura in Australia over the phone before he agreed not to rush me to the hospital.
He still refers to it as when I almost went into preterm labor.
Everyone knowing when precisely we’d last had sex might’ve been a bit mortifying if I didn’t know what prompted that level of worry.
Santi, who hadn’t appreciated being woken up after he’d been on call the night before, said he fully expects Liam to need a separate ambulance for himself once I actually go into labor.
“It’s not that,” I promise him, reaching for his hand and placing it low on my belly where I’m feeling a hitching thump every few seconds.
“God, Juliana,” he whispers. That reverent look in his eyes is worth a thousand frantic phone calls to people near and far announcing we just had sex. I might’ve done this whole baby thing with a donor’s sperm, but I’m so happy how it’s worked out.
Glancing at the clock, I realize the time.
We told Thomas and Maura we’d give them an update today and it’s breakfast time in Brisbane.
The crib is nearly done and it’s ingenious.
Liam really could make a living building furniture if he wished.
Once our baby is bigger, the crib can be converted into a sailboat-style toddler bed, a bluff bow and little port windows along the side.
It’s adorable, and I want to show it off to our friends.
“It’s not done yet,” he says modestly as I’m starting the video chat.
“They can picture the rest.”
The kite we made in Bora Bora hangs from the ceiling of the nursery over the rocking chair where we’ll likely spend late nights soothing our baby girl.
Miles’ question about themes got me thinking and I love the nautical décor I’ve chosen interspersed with tropical birds, colorful fish and sea turtles.
I’ve had a blast picking out little things for the baby and Ivy has happily helped with that in between opening her boutique.
“There you are, dears,” Maura says when the call connects.
I can tell the pair of them are seated in their cozy breakfast nook.
I didn’t expect to make friends on our trip at all, but they’re terrific.
Plus, them being older feels like we’ve found ourselves a set of non-judgmental parent figures to turn to.
Maura says as empty-nesters they love having an extra set of young people to chat with, too.
“It makes us feel like we’re wise old birds when you come to us with questions.”
“Yeah, we’ve clearly got them fooled into thinking we’ve got the answers, don’t we?” Thomas jokes.
Liam has spoken to his mother a few times since the fight with his father, and she did call to congratulate me.
But it’s clear she expects Liam to make peace with Jock eventually, and she’s very displeased by the ugly fallout at Culver.
“ It makes us look bad,” she’d told him.
Appearance over everything else. She’s probably more displeased by that than by her husband’s cheating. I just can’t imagine.
After we bid Thomas and Maura adieu, it’s time to make dinner together. Exhaustion is back in a big way lately, so we opt for a simple chicken chili recipe.
Liam checks his phone before silencing it as we sit down. “I'm going to miss your appointment tomorrow.”
The spoon hovers at my lips at his announcement.
Liam hasn’t missed any of my appointments thus far, but this will be the blood glucose test. It requires a couple of hours of just sitting at the office.
I can occupy myself. No need for both of us to sit there feeling trapped and bored.
“Not a problem,” I tell him, figuring he’ll fill me in as to why.
“Becca gave me the name of a couple of her colleagues. I scheduled an appointment with one of them for tomorrow afternoon.” I feel myself deflating at the mention of Becca.
It’s been weeks since I last saw her. I miss our sessions even if I’m scared of going back now.
“They just texted that they need to bump it up a couple of hours.”
“Okay.” I lean toward him, my growing bump making that difficult with the table in the way, and clasp his hand. “I’m proud of you.”
He smiles, tightly. He’s nervous about therapy, but he’s also said he wants to try it.
He’s committed to learning to control his temper in healthier ways and there’s a lot of things from his childhood and other unresolved issues in the Culver family he’d like to address with someone who has no dog in that fight.
“I just want to be a good dad. I don’t want to ever be like he was with us,” he murmurs before busying himself with eating dinner.
“I know. You never would be.” I can tell he doesn’t want to talk about it further, and I understand. I loop my leg around his under the table though and bask in the warm smile that produces.
I never wanted to fall again, but I’ve fallen for him. Liam has become my whole world, the world we’ll share with our precious baby soon. That’s exactly the kind of power I didn’t expect to give someone over me again.
∞∞∞
We’d fallen asleep early, but the chili came back to haunt me. I should’ve learned to avoid anything spicy by now. I’ve not been sleeping well lately in general and I’ve been warned that it will get worse.
I’ve just started to drift off again around three when Liam’s phone wakes me.
He usually silences it, but he immediately grabs it which tells me he wasn’t deeply asleep and perhaps he anticipated the call.
“Hey, yeah. No, it’s okay,” he says, his voice gruff with sleep but rapidly becoming more alert. “Hang on. Juliana’s sleeping.”
He creeps out of bed and into the bathroom to talk, and a ripple of tension sweeps through me. It’s nothing, nothing at all, I tell myself. But how long did I tell myself that when Chad started cheating? How long did I ignore the signs? He’s not Chad , I scold myself.
Fifteen minutes pass before he comes back to bed. Fifteen minutes. A long phone call at three AM. I try to sound sleepy when his hand reaches over to pat my hip as he settles. “Who was that?”
“Nothing. Just an issue at the club. Go back to sleep, honey.”
“Okay.” Just the club. Late hours and all kinds of potentials for issues at a place like Sable. Nothing for me to worry about. Silly Juliana getting carried away.
It’s not until Liam’s breathing has evened out again that I remember Sable wasn’t open tonight.