7. Sterling
STERLING
The paper on the exam table crinkles underneath her. I’m tapping my foot, staring at the posters on the wall that depict the uterus.
Eden’s new doctor is late.
She seemed surprised when I told her I was going to come with her to the appointment. I’m honestly not sure why I wanted to. It just felt like the right thing to do. She shouldn’t have to be alone for this.
Finally, the door opens, and a gray-haired man in a white coat walks in. He smiles at Eden and shakes her hand before turning to me.
“I’m Dr. Shiner. Great to meet you.”
I shake his hand firmly. “Sterling. The pretty one is Eden.”
“Good-looking couple,” he says.
A nurse follows in behind him.
“This is Sandra. She’ll be doing your ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy and make sure we have a heartbeat and all that good stuff. Is this your first?”
Eden nods. Her face is pale, and she’s clenching her fists. I wonder if I should go stand beside her and hold her hand, but the nurse is setting up the ultrasound machine, and there’s not much space.
“Lie back, honey. Lift your shirt up,” Sandra says. She turns to me with a smile. “Come closer, Dad. Plenty of room over here.”
Eden and I stare at each other, but neither of us bothers correcting her.
I step up to the exam table next to Eden, reaching out to grab her hand.
She squeezes it tightly. The nurse squirts clear lube on her belly.
This is the first time I’ve seen her bare stomach, and there is a small bump starting to form.
“Any questions or concerns? Fire away,” Dr. Shiner says.
I wait for Eden to speak up, but she simply stares at the monitor. She looks too overwhelmed to speak right now, like this is all becoming very real. Sandra starts rubbing something that looks like a remote with a cord attached to it over Eden’s stomach.
“She’s taking a prenatal vitamin. We go on a walk every day. She isn’t throwing up as much as she was, but she’s still feeling sick sometimes.”
The ultrasound machine has a blurry black-and-white circle on it. Eden squeezes my hand tighter when a steady thumping fills the room.
“Hey, there’s the little guy. The heartbeat sounds strong.” The doctor is making notes on his clipboard.
Eden and I watch as the bubble on the screen becomes more of a clear shape with a head and body. My throat dries up when I see the outline of a tiny hand wiggling around. I look down at Eden. A tear slips out of the corner of her eye.
“You’re measuring at fourteen weeks and two days,” Sandra says, smiling. “Do you want to know the sex?”
“You can already tell that?” Eden asks.
“It’s early, but I’m pretty sure about this one. We’ll have to confirm when you’re closer to twenty weeks.” She keeps swiping the remote over her belly and getting different angles. “Your due date is July 17.”
The doctor takes a seat on the round stool. “All your current symptoms sound normal. Drink lots of water. Sleep as much as you can. My normal little speech is just that you obviously shouldn’t be smoking or drinking alcohol. Stay away from soft cheeses and raw fish and eggs. Any other concerns?”
“I’m having some trouble sleeping,” Eden says.
I turn to her, hearing this for the first time. I wish she had told me.
“That’s not unusual. Many women report more vivid dreams during pregnancy. I’m sure with the nausea, it isn’t your first thought, but I would recommend more sex. It helps some women sleep better.”
He turns to me with a knowing smile. “I always tell first-time dads not to worry about hurting the baby, son. I get that concern quite a bit. Sex is perfectly safe during pregnancy. Many women actually have increased libido, especially during the second trimester.”
Eden’s fingers tighten on mine. I interlace mine with hers, nodding.
“Okay,” is all I can think to say. I shift my stance, needing to move my body with the sudden tension in the room.
“If you’d like, I can write the sex down and put it in a sealed envelope. That way, you’ll have it if you decide to have a party.”
“Yes, please,” Eden says.
“Well, that’s really all we need to discuss. We’ll see you back in four weeks.” Dr. Shiner stands and exits the room.
Eden is quiet on the drive home. The appointment wasn’t until three p.m., so I took off the rest of the afternoon.
“Anything in particular that sounds good for dinner?”
She sighs, staring out the window. “Fried chicken?”
I pull through the drive-through of my favorite fried chicken spot.
When we get home five minutes later, she walks inside and collapses on the sofa. I push the coffee table closer to her and set out the chicken, French fries, fried pickles, ranch dressing, and white gravy.
She stares at it for a few minutes before nibbling on a piece of chicken and collapsing into a puddle of tears on the sofa. I stare at her for five whole seconds before convincing my limbs to move toward her.
“Hey. Whoa. What’s going on? What’s wrong?”
I sit next to her, reaching out to grab her hand.
She’s fully sobbing now, shaking her head at me and covering her face with her hand.
I wait patiently for her to calm down, squeezing her hand reassuringly.
I don’t know how to handle a crying woman.
I just want to fix it, and I can’t fix it if I have no idea what’s wrong.
“Talk to me, Sunshine. Are you sick? Are you worried about the baby?”
She sucks in a ragged sob, dropping the chicken on her plate. “I’m … frustrated.”
She sits up fully, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Her green eyes are shiny and beautiful as she faces me.
“What are you frustrated about? Is it because you’re not sleeping?”
She nods, pursing her lips. “Partly, yes.”
“Is it my bed?”
“No, no, of course not. Your bed feels like a cloud. I love it.”
“It’s the best bed.” God, I miss my bed.
“It really is.”
I wait for her to elaborate. She gnaws her lower lip, flipping it in and out of her mouth as she looks at my face, then blushes and glances away.
“I’ve always wished I could read minds, but I’ve never wanted to more than I do right now.”
She laughs. “Ugh, I don’t know how to say it. Talking about this stuff is hard for me because of how I was raised.”
I stare at her, truly confused now. “You can tell me anything. I would never judge you.”
She exhales, closing her eyes. “It’s what Dr. Shiner was saying.”
“About sleeping?”
When she just stares at me, cheeks still pink, it finally hits me.
She’s not sleeping because she’s sexually frustrated. She was raised extremely religious and can’t talk about these things easily.
Shit.
“Are you feeling … physically frustrated?”
She nods vigorously, leaning into my arm.
“Your body isn’t allowing you to sleep because of the physical frustrations you’re feeling.”
“I think so, yes. I know it’s wrong. I just …”
“Eden, look at me. Sex isn’t wrong. You’re not wrong for having these feelings. These are normal human feelings. They’re biological. I have them too.”
She blinks up at me. “You do?”
“All the time. Every day. I mean, I’m not going through the hormonal changes you are, so I’m sure it’s not the same. But, yes, I feel sexually frustrated sometimes.”
She shifts closer to me on the couch so that our knees are touching. I’ve tried my best to avoid looking at her like a woman who is a potential sexual partner for me up until now because of the vulnerable position she’s in.
Every day, that becomes more difficult, the more time I spend with her. She’s beautiful, kind, funny, and easy to be around. In the short time I’ve known her, I’ve come to crave her presence, even when I’m at work. It’s distracting.
“What makes it better?”
“Well, an orgasm would, but I don’t really like jerking off. I just deal with it. Sometimes, I go to the bar and find someone to hook up with.”
I don’t mention that it’s been increasingly more difficult since she moved in.
“What does an orgasm feel like?”
I freeze. Eden doesn’t know what an orgasm feels like.
I rub my hand over the back of my neck. “Uh, it feels really good. Like an instant release. Your whole body kind of vibrates with pleasure. Like sneezing, times a thousand.”
She licks her lips, eyes gravitating lower until they’re focused on my hands. One is still holding hers; the other is in a tight fist on my leg.
“I just … when I was with Michael, I didn’t really like it. Maybe it’s not the same for everyone.”
I swallow, shaking my head. “It’s easy for men. Women take a little more time and skill to get to that point. Have you ever touched yourself?”
Her eyes widen. She shakes her head. “No.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.
How do I explain this without getting an erection?
“Do you know how to do it?”
She shakes her head.
“Do you want me to show you?”
She starts breathing harder, and for a minute, I think I said the wrong thing. But finally, she nods.
“Lie back.” My voice has grown deeper.
She does what she was told, and I struggle not to groan with approval.
“Good girl,” I whisper.
She’s at a forty-five-degree angle right now, her back supported by a throw pillow on the sofa. I move down to the floor, getting on my knees. I move between her thighs, gently spreading them. She inhales sharply.
“Are you okay with me touching you to show you how you can do it to yourself?”
She nods, her breath coming in slow, deep pulls through her open lips. I push her shirt up to her waistline. I grab her hand, moving her fingers to the space between her legs.
“You’ll have to tell me when it feels good and if you want more or less pressure. Sex is all about communication and openness. This is your clit.” I use her index finger to put pressure where I think it is.
She doesn’t react, and it’s hard for me to tell exactly where it is, using her fingers.
So, I slowly slide mine down to touch her and swirl it in a circle, looking for the right spot.
As soon as I hit it, she gasps, her hips bucking.
I use my other hand to hold her index finger next to mine.
Once I feel the ridge between her pussy lips, I slide both our fingers over the bump in steady, controlled movements.
“Right there,” I pant.
She moans, dropping her head back, “Oh, Sterling, that feels …”
“That’s your clit, Sunshine. If I keep this up, you’ll eventually reach a climax. You can do this to yourself in my bed. If you do it on your bare skin, you’ll feel yourself getting wet, and you can use that to slide your fingers over yourself even easier.”
She doesn’t seem to want me to stop, so I don’t. My dick is hard as a rock, but this isn’t about me. This is about Eden having her first orgasm. And fuck if I don’t want to be the man to give it to her.
She’s still letting me use her finger, along with mine. I increase the pressure and the speed. Her legs start shaking, and her other hand is gripping the pillow beside her.
“Let it happen, baby. That’s it.”
She gasps, clenching her thighs together and thrusting her hips up. I keep my hold on her, releasing her hand to spread her thighs out.
“Almost there. Focus on the feeling and my voice. You’re doing so good, baby girl.”
She opens her eyes, the bright green orbs lasered on my face.
It only takes a few more swipes of my finger for her to detonate under me.
She’s so incredibly responsive. Her eyes roll back in her head as the orgasm rushes over her body.
I can smell the sweet scent of her arousal, and it makes my mouth water.
I finally pull my finger away, sitting back against my heels as I watch her recover.
She opens her eyes, panting for oxygen. A pink rash has spread up her neck and chest. Her eyes dip down to see the clear bulge in my pants.
“Do you feel any better?”
She slowly nods, swallowing over the lump in her throat.
“Thank you for … teaching me how to do that.”
I nod, rising to a stand. “Anytime. I need to take a shower.”
“Why?”
Her gaze latches on to my crotch as I stand. I’ve never had such a painful hard-on in my life.
“Uh, the same reason you needed that.”
She licks her lips. “Did you … enjoy it?”
I point at the tent in my pants. “This right here should answer that question. Yes, I very much enjoyed touching you.”
“And now you’re going to go touch yourself? In the shower?”
I chuckle, nodding. “Yeah, if that’s okay with you. I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“It doesn’t—I’m not—it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all. It’s just …” Her voice trails off.
I shift my feet, trying to figure out what she’s not saying out loud.
“I can see the wheels turning behind those pretty eyes, but it would be a lot easier for both of us if you would just share whatever it is you’re thinking with me.”
She exhales, sitting up. “I want to see how you do it.”
Fuck me.