Chapter 9 #2
It’s like she reads my mind. “Will you unzip me?" Her eyes darken as she says this. It’s like she was battling with herself, and her devilish, alter ego won.
With my eyes, I tell her to turn around, and as my fingers touch her neck, I watch her eyelashes fan over her cheeks.
I can almost hear her sigh. Slowly, I pull the zipper down her spine, my fingertips following, grazing her skin.
I can’t keep my lips away, so I give in, kissing the exposed flesh.
With no bra closure to contend with, I render her naked from the waist up in seconds.
The zipper ends at the crest of her bottom, and as I cup her ass, sliding the dress down her cheeks, I realize that this naughty girl is completely naked under this dress.
My cock is fully awake.
I watch her dress fall to the floor, and she steps out of it, still in her tasteful pumps.
Her nipples are already beaded, her chest is already heaving slightly, and my dick is well aware.
Her eyes, hungry with need, dark with desire, search mine.
And as I stand there, cock at full mast, pressing up against my zipper, it’s like she reads my mind.
After my dinner jacket disappears, she opens my shirt buttons, kissing down my chest, teasing my nipples with her tongue, as her fingers work their way to the waistband of my dress pants.
They join my dinner jacket in seconds, and then I stand there, in just my briefs, which hide my hardened cock miserably.
Her eyes are bright with mischief as she falls to her knees, pulling my briefs down in her wake.
I do not hold back the pleased grunt as she stuffs my dick into her mouth expertly.
It seems cruel, having not touched her in days, as she pleases me, unlike any other, sending me to places I’ve never been.
I battle with myself, unable to decide if I want her to stop, so I can fuck her the way that she deserves to be fucked, or let myself fly to the moon, landing behind her throat, giving her a finish I think she wants.
But as I feel the signal in my balls, I grasp her shoulders quickly, and lift her into my arms, in one fell swoop, thrusting into her, starved to hear her cries.
And she delivers. With her back against the glass window, I fuck her hard and fast, as she begs for more and more, until I can hold on no more.
Thumb on her clit, mouth on her nipple, I will her to come with me.
Once again, my lady delivers.
My growls on her skin coax her, spur her on, as her body quivers around me, and we come together like we’ve just come alive.
My seed shoots so strongly, I feel like she may gasp, fighting for it not to come up her throat.
My arms encircle her as I carry her to the couch and swallow her up with my body.
Breathless, completely satiated, we lay there in silence for a while. “So, we never made it to the pool." She breathes, in a nervous laugh.
“This idea works too.“
She kisses my chest and neck, before she reaches my lips. Then she asks me a strange question. “Do you think it could always be like this?”
“Word around the street says that it can, it just takes work. Just like everything else.” I answer, and then I chuckle. "Especially when my lady is still in her pumps, and nothing else."
She laughs out loud. It's such a beautiful sound.
I look at her. I mean, I really look at her.
And I realize that I don't want to be without her.
Ever. I'm in love. I'm so in love with Lark and it hits me like a ton of bricks.
As she recovers from her laughter, I cup her face, searching her eyes, smiling, and I kiss her deeply.
The words are on the tip of my tongue, but I can't say them.
Love, as I've learned through others, sometimes is best expressed not with words, but with gestures, actions.
And I realize then what the perfect gesture is.
Lark
He's got that look in his eyes again. It's so confusing.
We've discussed keeping this thing that we have private, and we've discussed how we can't have more than this.
And all I can think about is what Liv said.
About me purposely trying to ruin what me and Stone have.
Is she right? Stone can see it in my face that I'm a million miles away.
"Hey." He whispers. "What's that look for? "
"I'm just, God, I'm thinking about Liv, my sister."
He pulls back, perhaps realizing that I'm just not ready for this, and I feel so awful. "About your fight?"
"Yeah." I bite my lip. "I need to go talk to her."
"Yes. Maybe you should." He kisses me tenderly. "But just do me one favor, okay?"
"What's that."
He swallows. And then he looks at me, like he's about to tell me the true meaning of life, but he can only hold the look for a moment, and then his eyes are bright with humor.
"Make sure you don't tell her that you made love with your shoes on.
Chicks just get ruined by that sort of thing, so I've heard. "
I smile. He's adorable. "And where did you hear this from?"
"My cousin, Stevie. She's a girlie girl and knows all about that sort of shit."
"I'll be careful."
As I drive to Liv's house, my mind drifts back.
To a much more painful time.
Only, I didn't know it was painful, until it was too late.
My period is late. Again. But I know, as I watch the single pink line form on the stick, that I'm not pregnant.
I didn't even wait for Steve to come home this time.
And as I toss the stick in the trash can next to the toilet, I wish that we could go back in time, to when things were easier, and less about having a baby.
A time when my house wasn't subletted so that I could live here, in Steve's fancier house.
The ring on my finger is basically a place holder.
He's said that we'll get married after the baby comes, but when there is no baby, it's hard to believe.
I hear the gate opening in the distance, indicating that he's home, and I scurry out of the bathroom.
"Lark? I'm home." He calls to me, having seen my car parked in the driveway. It's late. Past ten o'clock, but he had a client back out of a deal today, and he had a lot of paperwork to do, so that he can get a jump on selling the house tomorrow.
"Up here." I make my way down the winding staircase, and I can see it on his face that he's in a bad mood. "Bad day?"
He doesn't answer verbally. He grimaces.
"Are you hungry?"
"No. I think I'll just grab a drink."
"Yeah? Do you want some company?"
His look is chiding. "We've been through this, Lark. You shouldn't be drinking when we're trying to have a baby."
I swallow and figure that it's best to rip it off like a Band-Aid. "I just tested negative."
He shakes his head. "Dammit, Lark. Why didn't you wait for me."
"Because I, well, I just can't stand to see that disappointed look on your face."
With a sigh, he pulls me close. "Babe, we're in this together. I don't know why you feel like you can't tell me. Look, I want to come with you to see the gynecologist tomorrow, okay? I know that you said no, but I want you to reconsider."
"Why do you want to come? She's going to talk about all the girl parts, and I know how that makes you squirm."
"If I want to have a baby, I'm going to have to learn all about that. I should have a long time ago." He says soberly, brushing off the bad day. And since he's being a real trooper about it, I figure that maybe he's ready to come with me and face the music.
"Okay. If you really want to."
"Yeah?" It's the first smile I've seen on his face today.
"Yeah. But remember that if there isn't anything conclusive from my tests, that you'll have to do that dreaded sperm test and maybe more."
"I come from a long line of healthy, virile men, Lark. I'm sure that there is some explanation for it."
His arrogance is infuriating. "Hey, remember? I'm a fucking twin, okay. If anyone comes from a fertile clan, it's me."
He realizes his folly. He places his hands on my shoulders. "Lark, for all we know, neither of us is to blame here. It could just be stress. I've heard of that, too."
"Yeah, and we all know who gets stressed when it comes to baby making in this relationship." I don't remove the clip from my tone.
He ignores my jibe. "Is it because we're not married? Is that what's bothering you?"
He's fucking ridiculous. We never spoke of marriage until he popped the question six months ago.
We'd only been together for a year, and the minute that he gave me that ring, I feel like it came with a price.
We started trying to have a baby that night.
I dreamed of having kids when I was little, and when my aunt had her baby and I was twelve, but since we started trying, it's like he's sucked every bit of me wanting to be a mom out of me.
And now I'm more worried about disappointing Steve than I am about failing not being a mom yet.
I want to take a break from it. I want to get back to the way that we were before we got engaged.
When we had our careers in common. When it was naughty and hot that I had been sleeping with my sexy boss.
When we stayed up all night fucking and talking about selling properties.
Now all we talk about is babies. He actually had the audacity to take away some of my clients, so that I could rest more, because he figured I should do that, since I'm trying to get pregnant.
If it means scaling back on my job, I'm no longer interested, but I love him to death, and I don't want to lose him over this.
"No, it's nothing like that. It's not like I can flip a switch, Steve.
Jesus Christ." I laugh mirthlessly. "And what makes you think that it's me? We just went over this."
He lifts a hand. "Fine. We shouldn't even be talking about this. It's late and I've had a bad day. I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."
Back in the day, we'd fuck if we made a sale or not. Now he saves his sperm for special occasions. Like when I'm ovulating. "Goodnight."
After I toss back a couple of glasses of wine, I join him in bed.
I try to climb on top of him, but he grunts and turns onto his side.
I end up masturbating to a video of this hot guy doing hand stands on Facebook before going to sleep.
Steve is ready before me the next morning.
He grabs himself a coffee and heads for the door. "We should go."
"I'll be right out. Just let me grab a coffee."
Another chiding look. Fuck, I'm not pregnant, for goodness sake. We get stuck in traffic, so he's stressed to the max when we arrive, five minutes late. The doctor sees us ten minutes later, after he's had a chance to cool off. "Lark." Dr. Grant says in greeting. "Steve."
He nods hello as I sit on the tissue paper covered bed, in anticipation of some news that will either please my fiancé, like he's won a fucking bet, or humiliate him.
"The results are normal." She starts with. "Your hormone levels are fine, your ovaries are in perfect health, so is your uterus. Everything is in working order."
My inner goddess just did a fist pump.
Steve clears his throat. His eyes are on the polished linoleum floor. "Um, is it possible that it's just because she's under stress?"
Dr. Grant looks at me and speaks matter-of-factly. "Are you under stress?" I feel like she wants to add, 'because your fiancé here looks like I couldn't drive a stake up his ass without brute force'.
I frown and shake my head. "No. Not at all."
Steve chuckles mirthlessly. "That's ridiculous. You guzzled a bottle of wine last night before bed."
"I had two glasses. And I haven't had a drop since I failed my last pregnancy test."
The doctor interjects. "Perhaps a fertility specialist is in order here. And maybe some couple's counselling? Fertility issues can be very daunting on some people."
Steve lifts a hand. "Look, we don't have fertility issues. Maybe Lark just needs to take a break."
I agree. Best thing he's said in ages. "Yeah, a break. Let's take a break from baby making for a while."
"No." His face goes blank, matching his tone. "I think maybe you need to take a break from work."
I'm aghast. "Are you saying that you're going to fire me because I can't give you a baby?"
"You're being hysterical. I just mean take fewer clients. Don't take high stakes ones, either. They stress you out."
My hand goes to my chest. "You just sat in here and heard her say that all my systems are clear, Steve. This isn't a me problem, it's a you problem." I turn to Dr. Grant. "Isn't that right? Should he go and get his sperm tested?"
"Once I transfer your file to a clinic, they will order that, yes. Since your body is in perfect working order."
Another fist pump from my inner goddess.
I look at Steve. I think there's actually steam coming out of his ears.
"I can recommend you to a fertility clinic, Steve." Dr. Grant offers. "They're highly spoken of and have a very good success rate."
Steve rises. "Forget it. This is over."
When he spoke those words, what he meant was that not only was this appointment over, but so were our baby making plans, our relationship, and my fucking job.
I pull up to Liv's house and she's sitting on the porch, like she expected my visit, even though I didn't call her and I know that she never uses her phone to locate me. "Hi." She says, her tone is trite.
"I'm sorry about earlier." I start with.
"I'm sorry, too. You look nice." She smiles and pats the Muskoka chair next to her.
"Thanks." I sigh as she hands me a glass of sweet tea from the tray on the small table between us. "You know, you're right."
"What am I right about?"
"I am healing. Slowly."
"Yes. You are."
After a beat, and a few sips of my sister's delicious homemade tea, I speak again. "What happens if I really can't have kids and he wants them?"
She sighs. "First of all, you can. Second of all, you'll deal with it. What you and Steve had wasn't true love. If he did love you, then he wouldn't have treated you like a pin cushion, like a machine."
"What if they're all like that?"
"They won't be."
"What if he doesn't want kids and I do?"
"Then you need to talk to him about that. Tell him the truth. That's the only real difference here. You weren't honest with Steve. You should have told him that you'd lost your will to procreate because of him."
"But he would have dumped me and fired me.'
"And he did, anyway."
"I know." I laugh mirthlessly. "Why do I always have to fall for the guy that I'm not supposed to fall for, Liv? Steve was my boss and Stone is Lucy's client."
"Nobody has control over who they fall in love with."
"I know."
"So stop blaming yourself."
"It's not that easy."
"I know. But you'll figure it out."
And I do figure it out, but it takes three more weeks.