Chapter 18 Piper
PIPER
The house is dark except for the glow from the muted television.
Olivia Benson is giving some perp hell on SVU, but I’m not really watching.
It’s nearly midnight, and I’m curled on the couch, clutching the most pathetic but precious-to-me baby doll ever.
There’s a piece of peanut butter and jelly toast on the coffee table that I made ten minutes ago and haven’t touched.
I’m also crying. Not pretty, delicate tears. Full-on ugly sobbing.
“Piper?” Felix’s concerned voice drifts down the stairs.
Oh, hell, no.
“Go away!” I whisper-yell, not wanting to wake Ellie as I wipe my cheeks with the edge of the doll’s ratty dress. The last thing I need is for him to see me puffy-eyed and snotty, clutching this decrepit toy.
But his footsteps move closer instead of retreating. Because of course they do. I should know Felix Barlowe doesn’t take direction well.
“I mean it, Felix. I want to be alone.”
“Not happening.”
I make a frustrated sound and hurl the doll at him as he rounds the corner to the family room. He snatches it out of the air one-handed, barely even looking.
“First a shoe and now…” He cringes as he examines the doll. “Whatever this thing is. You could’ve been a quarterback with an arm like that, Hart.”
Despite everything, a watery laugh bubbles up inside me. I reach over and flick on the side-table lamp, flooding the room with warm light, then shake my head and wipe my eyes again. Not that I’m fooling either of us into thinking I’m okay.
“I don’t want an audience for my meltdown.”
Felix moves around the coffee table and sits on the couch without touching me. He’s giving me space even as he refuses to leave me alone.
“Too late.” His voice is soft. “Talk to me, Piper.”
I stare at the uneaten toast, throat tight.
“Is it the nausea?” he asks.
“It’s the doll,” I murmur.
He looks down at the toy dangling from his hand, then back at me. One eyebrow climbs toward his hairline. “I get that. This thing is creepy as fuck, but it’s no reason to cry.” He turns it to examine the faded painted eye. “I’m mostly sure those possessed-doll movies are fake anyway.”
I laugh again. “No, I mean—” I take a shaky breath. “That was a Christmas present from my mom, and one of my first memories. I wasn’t much older than Ellie.”
The teasing light in his blue eyes drains away.
“Now I’m having a baby, and Mom will never meet him or her. She won’t—” My voice cracks. “It’s not fair.”
“No,” Felix says quietly. “It’s not.”
He moves closer, his thigh pressing against mine, and takes my hand. His palm is warm and rough and solid and makes the vise in my chest loosen slightly.
“But you’re not alone. You know that, right? You’ve got Sadie and Ian. Your friends. Riva.” He squeezes my fingers. “Me if you want.”
I look up into those impossibly blue eyes that got me into this mess in the first place. “You’ve done enough processing?”
“You have to know that was all bullshit. I’d never walk away from my child.”
“I didn’t…” I swallow hard. “You know that Sadie and I both grew up without fathers?”
He nods. “Ya, but not the details.”
“Sadie’s dad left when she was a baby and started a new family in Nebraska.
He only called when he needed a summer babysitter for his do-over kids.
” The old bitterness creeps into my voice.
“My dad was apparently great with Sadie when he started dating our mom but left before I was born.” I move to pull away, but he holds fast to my hand, his thumb tracing circles on my knuckles.
“So I’d rather you not be involved at all.” I hate myself for pushing, but need him to understand. “Than to have you bail later. I can’t do that to my baby.”
“I won’t bail.”
“But what if—”
“Piper.” He shifts to face me more fully.
“I spoke to my attorney yesterday. That relative he was trying to track down—the great-aunt who was supposed to be Ellie’s chance to stay with family?
She hasn’t replied to his messages.” He pauses.
“Maybe that’s a sign that Troy and Julie were right.
” He clears his throat. “Maybe Ellie belongs with me.”
My heart thuds hard against my ribs, because this isn’t the same situation exactly, but his words also feel like a sign. The fact that Felix is choosing to stay, to commit to the sweet girl who adores him, gives me hope I hadn’t known I needed.
He holds up the doll. “We might need an upgrade on this thing, but I bet Ellie would love playing dolls with her future sibling.”
“What if it’s a boy?”
“Wow, Piper.” He lets out a low whistle. “Way to be sexist. Boys can play with dolls, too.”
I roll my eyes, but I’m smiling despite the tears still drying on my cheeks. “You know what I meant.”
His eyes go wide. “Wait. Do you know? Is it a boy?”
I shake my head. “No, they won’t be able to tell for a while. But I have an ultrasound appointment tomorrow.” I pick at a loose thread on my pajama pants. “I wanted to ask you to come, but I didn’t want you to feel pressured.”
“What time?”
“Two-thirty.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Felix, really, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” He studies the doll before his gaze flicks back to me. “Are Baby Chucky and the appointment related?”
I take the toy and place it on the cushion behind me, fighting a smile.
“I’ve been a little nervous, and when I couldn’t fall asleep tonight, I dug the doll out from the bottom of my closet.
” I shrug helplessly. “Kind of a hormonal version of If You Give a Moose a Muffin. One thought spiral led to another.”
Felix reaches out, cupping my face with one large hand. His thumb brushes away a tear still clinging to my lower lashes. Then he leans in and kisses one cheek, then the other, his touch featherlight.
“No more secrets,” he murmurs against my skin. “I want to be involved in whatever way you’ll let me. Appointments, late-night crying sessions, peanut butter sourdough toast at midnight.” He pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “Let me in, Hart.”
I press my mouth to his.
Felix makes a surprised sound, but kisses me back for a heartbeat—or three—before pulling away.
“We agreed this was a bad idea.”
“I remember.” I slide my hand to the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. “But I need our version of a bad idea. Please.”
He freezes, every muscle tense, before heat and want and tenderness crowd his gaze.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “Me, too.”
His hands move to my waist, dragging me closer, and I go willingly. He claims my mouth again, and it’s different this time. Deep and needy. My hands explore the broad expanse of his shoulders, then down the corded muscles of his arms, memorizing the geography of his body.
“Upstairs,” I manage between kisses.
Felix is already standing, pulling me with him. His hand finds mine as we climb the stairs, both of us trying to be quiet even as we pause to kiss, first on the landing and then against the wall of the hallway.
When we make it to my room, Felix kicks the door closed behind us and pushes me against it, his mouth finding that spot beneath my ear that makes everything go fuzzy.
“You sure about this?” he asks, as his hands slip under my pajama top, palms warm against my skin.
“One-hundred percent.” I tug the Ole Miss shirt up and over his head. “Unless you’re not—”
He silences me with another kiss, this one almost bruising, and it makes heat and wetness pool between my legs. “I want you morning, noon, and night, Hart.” His laugh is rough against my skin. “I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“Right now, I don’t need a gentleman.”
“Yeah?” Something fierce and dangerous flashes across his face. “What do you need?”
“You,” I say simply. “Just you.”
Felix groans and lifts me, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me to the bed.
He lays me down carefully, like I’m precious to him.
For a moment, he just looks at me. I know my hair is spread across the pillow, top rucked up to show the slight swell of my belly.
My chest rises and falls under his scrutiny.
“You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he says.
I reach for him. “Show me.”
He settles between my legs, his weight grounding me in the most delicious way. When he pushes my top up further and kisses my stomach, right where our baby grows, tears prick my eyes again. The good kind this time.
“Hey,” Felix says, looking up at me. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I smile and pull him back up to me. “I’m perfect.”
His hands slide to my hips, thumbs hooking in the waistband of my pajama pants. “These need to go.”
“Yours first.”
He grins and makes quick work of his athletic shorts and boxer briefs. Then I’m staring at those defined muscles, the light dusting of hair across his chest, the obvious evidence of exactly how much he wants this. I reach out and wrap my fingers around him, stroking him slowly.
He hisses, hips jerking forward. “Careful,” he warns, his voice nearly a growl. “Or this’ll be over before it starts.”
“I have faith in you,” I tease as he helps me shimmy out of my own panties.
When we’re both naked, skin to skin, he kisses me again. It’s slower this time, a savoring. “Tell me if anything doesn’t feel right.”
“I will, Felix. But I need—”
He cuts me off with a wicked grin. “I know what you need.” He slides down my body and settles between my thighs. His hands spread me open, and then his mouth is on me—hot, wet, perfect. His tongue circles my clit with devastating precision, and I cry out, fingers threading through his hair.
“Felix—oh god—”
He hums against me, the vibration sending sparks up my spine, as he slides two fingers inside me. I’m already teetering on the edge, embarrassingly fast, and he doesn’t let up, just licks and sucks and strokes until I’m writhing with pleasure. My hips buck, chasing the release I know is so close.
“Come on, Piper,” he murmurs, breath hot against my skin. “I want to feel you come all over my face.”
That does it. The most exquisite wave crashes over me, and my body clenches around his fingers as I come with a broken moan. I’m trembling and nearly boneless, but he doesn’t stop until he pulls every ounce of pleasure from my oversensitive body.
His grin is adorably self-satisfied as he finally meets my gaze.
“Your turn,” I pant, pushing at his shoulders until he’s on his back. I straddle his thighs, taking him in my hand again. He’s thick and hot, pulsing against my palm. I lean down, licking a stripe up the underside, swirling my tongue around the tip.
He groans, hips lifting. “Piper—fuck—”
I take him deeper and hollow my cheeks, loving the way he fills my mouth. His hands fist in the sheets, then in my hair, brushing it away from my face. I bob slowly at first, then faster as I savor his salty taste and the way his thighs tense under my palms.
“Stop,” he gasps suddenly, and pulls me off with gentle but firm hands. “Not like this. I want to be inside you when I come.”
I crawl back up his body, kissing him so he can taste himself on my tongue. “Then take me.”
He flips us in one smooth motion, settling between my legs again. The head of his cock nudges my entrance, slick and ready. He pushes in inch by inch, eyes locked on mine. I’m so full with him I can barely breathe.
“Christ, you feel—” He breaks off with a groan as his hips go flush against mine. “Perfect.”
We move together, and I relish every slow thrust. His fingers interlace with mine above my head, and the other hand cups my breast, his thumb teasing my nipple until I arch into him.
“More,” I whisper, and he obliges, plunging deeper and faster. The old bed creaks beneath us, and the headboard taps the wall in a rhythm that would be funny if it didn’t feel so damn good.
“I’m ordering you a new bed tomorrow,” he pants against my neck.
I laugh, then go breathless as he angles his hips to hit the spot inside that makes me see stars. His hand slips between us, thumb circling my clit in time with his thrusts.
“Come again for me, Piper.”
I’m surprised at my willingness to follow his command, but another orgasm tears through me, sharper this time. It leaves me shaking, and Felix follows seconds later, burying himself deep with a guttural groan.
For a long moment, we stay tangled together. I can feel his heart racing as fast as mine, both of us slicked with sweat. Then he rolls to the side, pulling me with him so I’m tucked against his chest.
“Hi,” he says, pressing a kiss to my forehead.
“Hi yourself.” I trace soft patterns on his chest, feeling boneless and satisfied and maybe just a little bit hopeful.
“For the record,” Felix says, “I’m definitely staying, Hart. Doctor appointments, midnight crying sessions, teaching our kid to throw a proper spiral.” He tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. “Girl or boy. You’re stuck with me now.”
“Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Both.” He grins. “One hundred percent both.”
I snuggle closer and let my eyes drift closed. We still need to figure out the complicated parts—logistics, fears, and the thousand questions neither of us has answers for yet. But tonight, enveloped in his heat with our baby safe between us, I’m happy to feel not quite so alone.
“Felix?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you caught the doll I threw at your head.”
His chest rumbles with quiet laughter. “Me, too, sweetheart.”
I fall asleep with his heartbeat steady beneath my ear and his arms solid around me, Olivia Benson probably still kicking ass on the TV downstairs.