5. Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Marshall
March 9 — 10 Weeks, Lime
E lsie, splayed out before me, lying on her back with her legs spread open and inviting, is quite a sight to behold.
Though it’s her stomach, swollen with my seed growing inside her, that has my heart pounding.
My fingers skim up the inside of her thighs, sending shivers through her body.
When I reach her center, I spread her lips open and take in the beautiful view of her pussy.
“Fuck. You’re incredible.” I murmur.
“Shut up and fuck me already, Marshall.” She commands.
My cock swells at her authoritative tone, and I ready myself to enter her.
I skim my tip up and down her center, making her squirm in anticipation, but before I can thrust into her, I’m interrupted.
“What the fuck!” I cry, jolting up in bed and wiping water from my eyes.
Every night for weeks, I’ve had the same dream about Elsie Snow. In every one of them, she is heavily pregnant. Plus, I seduce her into taking my cock again and again until she’s screaming my name every time.
But the cold water that just woke me from my dream isn’t part of that fantasy.
“Oh, good. You’re up.” A cool voice says before mumbling under their breath. “Fucking finally.”
Shaking the sleep from my eyes, I look over to the side of my bed to find a tiny woman glaring at me with murder in her eyes.
“Elsie?” I ask.
“Yes, asshole.” She says, placing the offending empty glass on my makeshift nightstand.
Box. It’s a box.
“You sleep like the fucking dead.” She grumbles.
“No shit. I work on an oil rig that operates 24/7. Those things are loud.” I say groggily while shifting to swing my legs over the side of my bed.
When Elsie’s gaze shifts down, I realize my mistake.
I’m hard as fuck.
And having the subject of my dream standing before me in all her curvy glory is not helping.
She looks incredible, her full auburn curls framing her face perfectly to highlight the roundness of her rosy cheeks and pale complexion. She’s dressed comfortably in leggings and an oversized t-shirt, but it doesn’t detract from her beauty .
Seeing her for the first time in weeks is making me lightheaded and my cock harder than before.
I shift to try and cover my erection a little, but she gives me the courtesy of looking me in the face when she says. “Put on some clothes, and then we need to talk.” Her voice is cold and unfeeling, but there’s a slight wobble that makes me nervous.
“What? Why?” I ask, confused.
I haven’t seen Elsie in weeks, at least 28 days, to be precise. I only got home from my last rotation on the rig on Sunday earlier this week and have been sleeping away the week. I haven’t left the pool house Gunnar and Selene let me rent in days.
What could I have done to get her this worked up this early on a Saturday morning? Or is it afternoon?
“Because. I said so.” She says, turning on her heel.
Before she can leave, I grasp her by her wrist and pull her into my body so her tiny frame nestles between my legs as I sit on the bed.
At 6’ 5”, I typically tower over her, but right now, we fit perfectly together, with her lips so close to my quickening pulse.
For a moment, she’s rigid, but then her whole body melts into my embrace. I feel satisfied at the knowledge that she feels comfortable in my arms, and I relax as well.
“Marshall.” She protests half-heartedly from in my arms.
“Elsie,” I say slowly.
“Let me go.” She sighs.
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong,” I tell her.
Being so close to me, I know she can feel how hard I am.
What she doesn’t know is that it’s for her.
For that simple kindness, I’m grateful.
“Talk to me, princess,” I murmur in her ear .
The force with which she pushes me away startles me a little, but it’s her seething expression that has me freezing in place.
“Shut it with the princess shit. I’m mad at you.” She snaps, turning once again to leave the bedroom. “I’ll be in the living room.”
“I’m gonna take a shower,” I call out as she leaves, which only earns me more muttered curses.
I chuckle at the sound of more mumbled cursing under her breath, but once she’s gone, I do as she asks and head to my bathroom to shower and dress.
I take my time to shower and get ready to face the ferocious Elsie, trying to think of what could have pissed her off so much to get her to the point where she’s breaking into my place and tossing cups of water on me.
Working on an offshore oil rig means working 28-day shifts, leaving me with very little reason to rent my own place. I used to live with my mother at my childhood home because I could not justify the cost of an apartment, I only used half the year.
But a year into dating, Selene and Gunnar bought a house together, and while we were only friends from the club at that point, they heard of my unfortunate living situation and offered to let me move into the pool house behind their new home about a year and a half ago.
The place is perfect for me, but it’s not really home.
Home isn’t really a place… it’s people.
It’s family.
So, for now, outside of my blood relatives who I’m close with, Selene and Gunnar are the closest thing I have to that dream.
In terms of a place to live, though, I only really need a fridge for takeout leftovers, a couch, and a television to watch my teams. There’s a bed to sleep away my days and fuck away my nights. It even has a hot tub out back, which is the perfect way to get my multitude of guests naked.
So many good memories here.
Once I’m done getting ready, I walk into the kitchen to find the counter piled high with containers from my fridge, which stops me in my tracks.
Elsie is bent over, rooting through my freezer drawer, and it’s the best memory I’ve ever had in this place.
“Elsie?” I ask, mirth in my voice.
She spins around. “Why don’t you have ice cream? There’s sorbet but no ice cream. Who the fuck doesn’t have ice cream? Who even eats sorbet!”
“A man who’s lactose intolerant?” I try with a laugh, rounding the counter to where she stands.
The glare she gives me stops me in my tracks.
“Any particular reason you’ve emptied my fridge?” I ask.
“You take for-fucking-ever to get ready, and I had a craving.” She shrugs.
“So, you took everything out of my fridge?” I chuckle.
“No. I threw out half of it, though. It smelled awful, and I’m pretty sure there were a few blocks of cheese growing mold.”
“Elsie, that’s not…” I sigh, reaching over to grab a few containers and put them back in the fridge. “Let’s try this again. You got hungry. So, you were looking for something to eat?”
She rolls her eyes at me in confirmation.
“What do you want if I don’t have ice cream?” I ask simply, turning to the pantry to see what I may have there.
A sniffle has me stopping and turning back to Elsie .
“I don’t know.” She whines in a voice which I’ve never heard come from the small woman. “I can’t… I’m just… Marshall, I’m falling apart.”
“Oh, baby,” I say, putting down a bag of bread on the counter.
This woman has no idea the power she has over me.
I’ve been absolutely enraptured by her for a year, but every flirtation and hint I threw her way was shrugged off. It wasn’t until Selene and Gunnar’s engagement party that I finally had my chance with her.
Since that magical night, I’ve done everything in my power to get her attention and really make an effort, but I was brushed off while I was in town. Which meant there was no real reason to try while I was gone for work.
I told myself when I got back that I would try again, I had to.
But first, I needed to sleep.
The universe seems to be on my side, though, if she’s currently standing in my kitchen just waiting for me to comfort her, to show her how good I can be for her.
I try to pull her to me for the second time today, but she bats me off when I reach out.
“Don’t baby me.” She says indignantly. “I’m not your baby.”
“Okay…” I say patiently. “Elsie, what’s wrong?”
Tears start streaking down her cheeks, and I start to panic. This was not how I imagined our reunion going when I saw her again.
“Elsie. Talk to me. Why are you here?” I ask as calmly as I can manage.
If my mamá and sisters taught me anything, it’s that a woman crying is never a good thing .
“I’m… Ugh.” She says, wiping away her tears, clearly frustrated. “I’m hungry all the time, but half the time, I can’t figure out what I want to eat. Then, when I figure it out, I cannot keep it down. I’m exhausted and moody, and everything hurts. I’m so fucking done, Marshall. So. Fucking. Done.”
By the end of her tirade, the usual chill that Elsie speaks with is back, along with her commitment to looking at me like I’ve broken her favorite toy.
“Okay,” I say, reaching up to grab a glass from the cabinet and fill it with ice water from the fridge. “Why don’t you go sit down on the couch and get comfy. If you’re hungry, then I’ll make you something.”
“But…” She starts.
“No. If you don’t like it, then I’ll just make something else.” I say sternly.
“Fine.” She pauses on her way to the living room couch. “No beef. I can’t stand the smell.”
“Got it. No beef.” I chuckle.
Looking around, I grab the bread I had set down earlier and pop it onto a baking sheet. Then I go to the pantry to find ingredients for the only comfort food I know how to make and get to work. Ten minutes later, I’m pulling my creations out of the oven and putting them on a plate.
Walking into the living room, I find Elsie snuggled on the couch under the quilt my mamá had sewn.
I hold out the plate for Elsie as she unwraps herself from her blanket cocoon.
“Beans and toast?” She asks.
“Ah. Not quite.” I laugh. “Molletes. Toast, refried beans, cheese, and salsa. My mamá made it all the time for us growing up.”
“It smells delicious.” She says softly. “Gimme.”
The grabby hand motion she makes, combined with her hermit appearance under the quilt, makes me laugh, and I hand over the plate.
Sitting down on the coffee table before her, I watch as she takes her first bite.
When her eyes close and she moans in pleasure, my chest swells with pride. I don’t know how to make much, but I know mis familias recipes by heart.
“Good?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She groans with a nod of her head and dives back into devouring the dish before her.
After a few minutes, with only the sound of her adorable munching, I break the silence.
“You wanna tell me why you broke into my place, poured water on me, and cleaned out my fridge?”
She takes her time to finish her snack before speaking.
“First off.” She clears her throat. “I didn’t break in. Selene gave me a key when I asked for it.”
“Alright. The other two statements are still true.”
“You sleep deeper than a koala, Marshall. I tried everything else before resorting to cartoonish tactics. And your fridge is filthy.” She says with a huff.
“Okay.” I acquiesce, going back to my initially intended question. “Why are you here then?”
Elsie grows quiet, putting her plate to the side. Her gaze drops down to her hands, which are now flat against her knees.
The sight of her, still bundled in the quilt and looking as vulnerable as I’ve ever seen her, makes me ache to touch her.
Reaching out to grasp her hand, I plead. “Elsie, what’s wrong? ”
She lets out a deep sigh and straightens herself before looking me in the eyes.
“I need to tell you something, but you weren’t answering your phone. Not that I would have told you over the phone. That would have been a bitch move.” She finally says, mumbling the last of her words.
“Okay,” I say slowly.
“You weren’t answering. So, I tracked you down.” She reasons.
“By breaking in.”
“I got a key!” She snaps. “This is not a breaking and entering situation.”
“So, you’re not a burglar. Got it.” I joke. “Then what are you?”
I love teasing her, seeing the furrow that forms on her brow when I do.
“I’m pregnant.” She states cooly without breaking the connection between our gazes.
Everything slows down to a halt.
Pregnant.
Elsie is pregnant.
“Like with a baby?” I ask, stunned.
“Yes, Marshall. That’s kind of what pregnant means.” She huffs.
There’s only one reason she would be here, right now, telling me this.
Selene’s engagement party.
We’ve only been together the one time. She made it clear that it would only be once, too, not that I would have listened to that part after how perfect our night was.
“And it’s mine?” I ask.
“Yes. ”
“Fuck.” I say softly, glowing inside.
I’m gonna be a dad.
Someone’s gonna call me Papá.
Fuck.
“Marshall?” I hear Elsie ask, but it feels far away.
I’ve always wanted kids. I just didn’t think I’d be doing that now.
I’m only 29. I thought I had more time.
But this?
This is everything I want out of life.
The woman I’ve obsessed over for the past year is pregnant with my child.
A vision of Elsie, round with our baby and wearing a white dress as she walks down the aisle to me at our wedding flashes before me. Pictures of holidays and birthdays run through my thoughts. There are mundane moments of making messes in the kitchen and playing in the backyard under the hot Texas sun. I envision our little family growing and forming memories together.
With each thought racing through my mind, my heart lifts, and excitement builds.
Letting go of Elsie’s hand, I stand abruptly and walk to my bedroom.
I need to pack.
There’s no way I’m letting my future wife and mother of my children go a single day without me there to support her.
I’ve spent my adulthood as a bachelor.
Many would even describe me as a player.
A man whore.
But all that’s over today.
Because now I’m a father.
A father.
Damn .