Chapter 6 The Cum Police Emmett
LOOK, I’M A REASONABLE GUY. Easygoing. There is little in life I need to keep me happy.
My wife by my side, and her hand in mine every day that ends with y.
My friends, my team. The way the cool air kisses my cheeks on that first lap around the ice, an entire arena chanting my name after I send the puck into the back of the net. It’s not easy to get me riled up.
And yet I believe this nurse has made it her personal mission to make my life a living hell.
“Needles? Every day? In my… in my belly?” Cara swallows.
Her grip on my hand tightens, and I let out a silent scream as her nails gouge my palms. “But I don’t like needles.
” She releases my hand—thank fuck—but nearly hammers me in the eye when she tosses her arms over her head.
“Isn’t it enough that I’ve been poked and prodded by you people for weeks on end just to find out I can’t get pregnant?
Now you want to unload daily needles on me too? ”
The nurse shrinks backward. “Um, I… I wish there was—”
“Surely there’s another option,” I offer, and I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but fuck it, here it goes. “We’re… fortunate. We can pay for the medicine in tablet form, or, like, powder. Money isn’t an object.”
Cara’s brows jump. “You did not just throw out the money is no object, line, Emmett. Who are you? Carter? Do you wanna ask if they have a premium baby-making menu while you’re at it?”
It sounds stupid, I know, but… I give the nurse a look like she might know something we don’t. “I mean, while we’re here… do you have a pre—”
“Oh my God! Emmett! No!” Cara buries her face in her hands.
“I’m sorry,” the nurse whispers, but I think what she means to say is I’m terrified.
“I wish there was another way to administer the medication, but unfortunately both the follicle-stimulating drugs and the ovulation trigger are subcutaneous injections. Plenty of our clients don’t like needles, but they say they don’t mind it by the end. ”
“Oh, do they, Sheila? Do they really?” Cara gives her a pursed smile, eyes narrowed. “I’m so reassured that plenty of your clients had to stab themselves with needles so often they eventually became numb to it.”
The nurse hesitantly holds out two boxes, and Cara swipes them, shoving them at my chest.
“You’re stabbing me, buddy.”
I rub her thigh. “I’ll do anything you want me to do, baby.”
Nurse Sheila clears her throat. “Um, actually, it can help a lot to have your partner do your injections for you. It often brings couples closer together. Think of it a bit like an intimacy game.”
“You hear that, Em? Having you stab me with needles is going to bring us closer together.” She grins up at me in that scary, sexy way that gets me going. “You stab me, I pounce on you and try to kill you.”
My mouth dips to her ear. “It ends in hate sex and you coming all over my c—”
“Oh, Mr. Brodie,” Nurse Sheila interrupts. “That reminds me.” She hands me an empty paper bag, and then shows me a clear plastic cup with an orange cap on it before dropping it in the bag. “You have to refrain from masturbation for five days leading up to the IUI.”
My brows skyrocket. I rest my elbow on the arm of the chair, my chin on my fist. “Pardon me?”
“No masturbation. It ensures a higher sperm count come procedure day.”
“No masturbation? No problem.” I chuckle, and it’s hardly anxious. It’s the offseason; I’m not spending any days away from Cara. “But we…” I waggle a finger between me and Cara. “We can, um, you know.” I wink, my confidence completely at odds with my bouncing knee. “Make love. Um. Right?”
“Of course!”
“Oh, thank fuck.” I deflate, throwing my head over the back of the chair before clapping my hand to Cara’s knee. “I can still pound you into—”
“Yes, once the procedure is complete, you can have sex as much as you like. It can help, actually. But before the procedure, no ejaculation at all.”
My elbow slips from the arm of the chair, sending my body too far to the right.
Cara watches with a single raised eyebrow as the chair—and me with it—goes toppling to the floor.
I scramble to my feet, shoving my fingers through my hair.
A shrill chuckle leaves my mouth, and I shake my finger at the nurse as I right the chair and take my seat again.
“Ah, that was a good one, Doc. Very funny.” My hands go up, half-assed jazz fingers on display.
“You got me. Ha ha.” I nudge Cara. “No sex. Hilarious, huh?”
“It’s not a joke,” Nurse Sheila says. “Every time you ejaculate, you empty your testicles. Your sperm count needs to rebuild. Since we don’t know ahead of time when Cara’s follicles will be the optimal size to induce ovulation, we give you a five-day window.
Imagine Cara’s follicles are ready to release eggs, and you’ve had sex just eight hours ago, resulting in a sperm count so low that we need to cancel the procedure.
” She shakes her head, sealing my fate and effectively ruining my life.
“No ejaculation, period, for five days.”
My jaw unhinges, and a scoff tumbles from my mouth.
Cara leaps to her feet, smashing her pointer finger against the desk. “And just who in the fuck do you think you are?”
I throw my arms in the air, because throwing my chair would be frowned upon. “The goddamn cum police?”
“I CAN’T. I CAN’T DO it.”
“You’re not doing it,” I remind Cara. “I’m doing it.” I swipe an alcohol swab over the golden skin of her torso. “Two inches from your belly button. Guess I can’t use my cock to measure, huh?” I snicker.
“You’ll be able to in two five seconds, ’cause I’m gonna chop it off and shove it down your own throat.”
“Baby,” I warn lowly, dialing her Gonal-F pen to the right dosage. “Don’t make threats that only hurt us both.”
“What is that? What the fuck is that?” She points at the needle with one shaky hand, the other pressed over her mouth, eyes gigantic. “Emmett, that can’t go inside me. It’s huge!”
“That’s what she said.” Another snicker, but Cara doesn’t return it. Huh. I’ll have to take the joke to the group chat. “You can do it, Care. It’ll be over before you know it.” I pinch her skin between my fingers like Nurse Cockblock taught us to.
“Ow!” Cara karate chops my wrist and twists out of my grasp. “No pinching, you fucker!”
“I have to pinch the skin!” I sweep my arms wide, watching as she hightails it out of the bathroom.
She makes a run for the hallway, but I ditch the needle on the bathroom counter and catch her in five steps with an arm around her waist. She lands on the bed with an oomph, silky hair fanning out around her.
I swing a leg over her and climb aboard, straddling her hips as she swats at my thighs.
When I gather those grabby hands in one of mine and pin them above her head, I’m aware that she’s my very own angel.
Perfection where perfection isn’t supposed to exist.
I trail a finger over her belly button, up her torso, and between her full tits.
The pad of my thumb scrapes over one nipple above the lace of her bra, and my mouth waters as it pebbles, greedy for my touch.
I cover the taut bud with my tongue before tugging it gently between my teeth as Cara’s hips lift and her lips part with a moan.
My palm glides over her throat, squeezing gently as I steal the thing I want more than anything right now: a kiss from my wife.
She melts below me, same as she always does, and I savor the sound of my name, the way she whispers it, uses it as the filthiest plea as my mouth glides along her jaw, up to her ear.
“Are you gonna be my good girl, baby?”
“I don’t have a good girl bone in my body. You should know that by now.”
“Mmm. That’s right. You don’t.” Releasing her neck, I slide my hand down her front, dipping it between her legs.
Shifting her panties aside, I run two fingers along her wet slit.
“That’s why you’re already soaked, huh? My bad girl wanted me to chase her, catch her, and throw her down to the bed?
” Her pussy squeezes around my fingers the second they plunge inside her, like she’s already hanging over the edge, desperate to fall.
My thumb circles her clit, and I smile as Cara’s head rolls over her shoulders, her hips bucking.
“My bad girl wanted me to fuck her into submission, didn’t she? ”
“God, yes,” she mewls, shoving her fingers through her own hair as she writhes below me.
“That’s nice.” I pull my fingers back, suck them clean, and then slap her pussy as Cara stares at me, mouth agape.
“Can’t wait to fuck that later,” I murmur, dragging my thumb along her lower lip before I climb off the bed.
I scoop her into my arms before she can do something scary, like claw my eyes out or bite my dick, and instead carry her into the bathroom, depositing her on the edge of the counter.
Gripping the marble on either side of her, I rest my forehead against hers, staring into those bottomless blue eyes, the memories that live in them, all the laughter, the love, the hope. She’s my life, after all.
“I know you’re scared,” I tell her gently.
“I’m not scared. I’d just rather throw myself off a cliff than inject a twenty-five-inch needle into my stomach.”
“It’s, like, an inch.”
“You would know, shrimp dick.”
Laughter bubbles in my chest, and Cara’s shoulders sag before she wraps her arms around me.
“I’m sorry. You don’t have a shrimp dick.” She lays her cheek on my chest, and when she sighs, I’m struck by how small she feels, how vulnerable. “I’m scared.”
“Not just of the needle,” I guess, running my palm down her back.
“What if this doesn’t work, Emmett?”
“What if it does?” I hook a finger under her chin, bringing her cautious gaze to mine. “We’re going to come out the other side of this. We’ll be parents, Care, no matter how we get there. For now, let’s focus on today.”