by Rachel Woods
Talk about a crazy, hormonal thought. She didn’t want to live her life without John. She couldn’t stand being away from him. Two months had been too long, almost like an eternity. How the hell could she survive forever without him? All she wanted to do was fall asleep in John’s arms every night and wake up next to him every morning.
Spencer hooked a leg over John’s waist and pressed her face against his chest.
“Are you awake?”
Snuggling closer to him, she said, “Yeah, sort of.”
“Good,” he said.
“Why is it good that I’m awake,” she said, anxious for more of John’s lovemaking. Two months of abstinence had definitely been too long, but since their reconciliation, they’d been making up for lost time, every day, several times a day.
“Well…” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to ask you about your next doctor’s appointment.”
“What about it?”
“I wanted to ask if I could come with you.”
Elated, and not entirely surprised, Spencer repositioned herself, nestling in the crook of his arm so she could gaze up at him. “You want to come to the doctor with me? Really?”
Nodding, he said, “Really. I do. Actually, I, um, I wish I could have been with you for all the appointments.”
“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about the baby as soon as I knew I was pregnant,” Spencer said, looking down.
“Well, you can make it up to me by telling me the story of how you found out you were pregnant,” he suggested.
Spencer groaned good-naturedly. “John, I’ve told you that story a million times.”
“I know, but I love that story,” he said, holding her closer. “It’s the best story in the whole world.”
“You’re silly,” she said, giggling, though she loved the story. She was always happy and excited when John requested a retelling, which was at least once a day, and she never tired of recounting the details, to his delight. Without further prompting, and with much drama, she launched into the tale. Normally, the fifteen-minute story took an hour because John always interjected with questions, but she always managed to cover the major points. After realizing her period was two weeks late, she’d been worried and had confided in Rae, who’d suggested she might be pregnant. Flabbergasted, Spencer had initially disputed her sister’s diagnosis. She couldn’t possibly be pregnant. Four home pregnancy tests proved her wrong.
“Can’t believe you thought I would be mad at you for getting pregnant,” he said, when she’d finished the story, about an hour later.
“John, I need to be honest with you about something,” she said, glancing away from the worry in his gaze.
“About what?”
Beneath her cheek, his heart raced, but not as fast as hers. “It wasn’t that I thought you’d be mad about the baby. I figured you wanted kids someday. I just didn’t know if you would want them with me.
“Why wouldn’t I want kids with the most beautiful woman in the world who I happen to be crazy in love with?”
“Are you sure you want me to be the mother of your child?” She stared at him, unable to share his levity. “You know I didn’t exactly have the best example of motherhood. I probably won’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
Taking her hand, he pressed his lips against her palm and then asked, “Do you think that because your mother neglected you, I’m going to think you would be a bad mother?”
She pulled her hand away, disturbed by his accurate discernment of her concerns.
“She didn’t just neglect me. She abused me. She was crazy and hateful to me. I don’t ever remember her being affectionate, or anything, like what a mother was supposed to be,” Spencer said. “I remember when I started going to school, my classmates would be picked up after school, and they would run into their mothers’ outstretched arms, and their moms would hug them and kiss them and be so happy to see them. It was never like that with me and my mother. She didn’t really acknowledge my presence very much.
“I was just this lonely kid, staying quiet and out of her way, so she wouldn’t throw something at me. But I never knew what would make her mad. I would try to be good and…but, I didn’t really know what she wanted me to be. All I knew was that whatever she wanted, I wasn’t it. When I turned six, the physical abuse really escalated. And then, she wasn’t the best provider. I was always hungry. And she would leave me alone for weeks at a time. Finally, when I was seven, she left and she didn’t come back. I was so terrified, and I knew it was my fault, and—”
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“Then why did she leave? Why didn’t she want me? Why didn’t she love me? I don’t understand,” Spencer said, unable to stop her tears. “Everybody talks about this motherly instinct and how as soon as you see your baby you fall in love, but I don’t think my mother had that experience.”
“Maybe she didn’t,” he said. “And that is sad. But she must have been sick. She couldn’t have been in her right mind, and that was a tragedy for both of you because she missed out on the experience of being a mother. You didn’t get to be loved and taken care of like you should have been, like every child deserves to be.”
Touched by his insight and sensitivity, she sobbed a bit harder for a moment, feeling once again like the scared, abandoned seven-year-old.
“I can’t go back and change what happened to you,” he said. “But I do love you and I always will. And I will take care of you, and I’ll do what it takes so that you never feel neglected and abandoned again. I know your mother let you down, but I won’t. I promise you. You can trust me.”
Wiping her face, she sniffed and said, “But can you trust me? Can you trust that I won’t lose my mind or—”
“You won’t lose your mind,” he said. “You’re not your mother.”
“You don’t know that,” she disputed. “And I can’t bear the thought that I would do anything to hurt this baby or make him feel like I didn’t love him with all my heart because I do.”
“The baby knows you love him,” he said. “I’m sure he can feel how much—wait, you said him? How do you know it’s a boy? We haven’t—”
“I just know it’s a boy,” Spencer said. “I can tell.”
“How can you tell?”
“I don’t know how,” she said. “Maybe because of the blue elephant.”
“The blue elephant?”
“The stuffed animal you gave me for the baby,” she said. “I actually sleep with both of the little elephants, but I get restless if the blue elephant isn’t right near my stomach.”
“A boy…”
“Did you want a girl?” Worried, Spencer sat up, pulling the bed linens over her bare breasts as she stared at him. “You do know that you determine the sex of the baby, right?”
He smiled, looking contemplative. “Actually, I want both. A boy and a girl.”
Spencer gave him a look. “Well, I can’t help you because I’m not having twins.”
“Maybe not now…” He pulled her into his arms again. “But…”
“But, what?” She moved her head to look at him.
“You might have twins later,” he said, smiling. “When you get pregnant again.”
“When I get pregnant again?” She sat up to gape at him. “You think I’m going to let you get me pregnant again? Ha! I think we’re one and done.”
Shaking his head, he gave her a sly, sexy grin. “I think we’ve just begun.”
28
The Woodlands, Texas
Carlton Woods Gated Community
“What are you doing up so early?”
Stepping across the threshold into John’s office, Spencer leaned against the doorway.
“Just wanted to get a jump on all the stuff I need to get done today,” he said, staring at his computer screen. “What are you doing up so early? You feel okay? The baby okay? You have morning sickness?”
“No, I’m fine and the baby’s fine.” She walked to the chair in front of his desk. “And no m
orning sickness, not anymore, thank God. Though, it was more like afternoon sickness, and you should be glad that you weren’t around for that…”
“I’m not glad about that.” He turned from her, tapping on the keyboard, and then said, “I wish I could have been around to experience everything with you, even afternoon sickness.”
Spencer cringed at his not so subtle reminder of how she hadn’t told him about the baby and most likely would have kept the child a secret from him if he hadn’t accidentally found out himself. It might always be a point of contention between them, one of those issues it was better not to discuss because they would never arrive at a resolution that was satisfactory to either of them.
It would always be something she could never really explain.
Something he wouldn’t be able to understand.
“So…” she said. “You have a lot going on today?”
Staring at her, John leaned back in his chair. “Got enough.”
“Okay, then, I’ll leave you alone and let you get to it,” she said and then turned, heading for the door.
“Spencer…”
Pivoting, she faced him.
“Come here.”
Excited, anticipating, Spencer hurried to him when he beckoned for her, ignoring the warning in the back of her mind. Eagerly running to a man was something “that wife” would do, but she wasn’t “that wife,” and she never would be. Still, her jaded inner voice told her John was the kind of man she would always have to put forth effort to please. And maybe the exertion would deplete her, leave her gasping, hardly able to breathe.
Standing next to the large leather chair where he sat, gazing at her, she noticed his erection and immediately felt hot and wet and crazy.
John pulled her down onto his lap, slipping an arm around her waist, holding her close to that enormous bulge in his pants. “I need to tell you something…”
Worried, and yet aroused, she asked, “What?”
“You’re very sexy when you’re carrying my baby,” John told her, moving his hand under the T-shirt she wore. “But I have to admit that I feel a little weird sometimes when we make love.”
She opened her legs a bit. “Why do you feel weird?”
“Because the baby is here with us, you know,” he said, his hands sliding along her leg, delving between her thighs.
“John, the baby’s not born yet.”
Slipping his hand inside the crotch of her panties, he said, “I know, but sometimes I feel like we’re doing it in front of him.”
“I think you have pregnancy brain, now,” she said, a gasp escaping as his thumb moved lazily, clockwise around her clit. “We are not making love in front of the baby, don’t be silly.”
“Oh, speaking of pregnancy brain, I think you’re right,” he said, staring at her, his hazel eyes darkening to a moss green, reflecting the same desperate, seething desire that had her arching her back and rocking her hips against his hand. “I have found it hard to concentrate. I’ve been forgetful, too.”
“You have any cravings?”
“Only for this…”
The finger inside her pushed deeper, then pulled back a fraction, and then slipped in farther, twirling and thrusting.
Heat pooled inside her, rushing along her hot, slippery walls, and all logical, coherent thoughts faded away until there was nothing left but the incessant, urgent need to have him inside her.
Without much fuss or fanfare, she pulled the T-shirt over her head and flung it behind her. Jumping from his lap, she got rid of her underwear, tossing the damp, lacy thong aside. Naked, she returned to the large, leather chair, and straddled him, then unzipped his pants.
Together, they freed his penis from the confines of his boxers.
Gasping, Spencer stared at it, huge and hard, and the ache between her legs intensified, growing to something she could barely contain. Anxious to impale herself on it, she wrapped both hands around his shaft and rose up on her knees, intent on guiding him inside her, but John grabbed her hips, holding her immobile.
“You got somewhere you need to be?” he asked and leaned forward, taking her right breast in his mouth. Slow and lazy, he licked her breast, his tongue gliding over her skin.
“Why do you ask that?” she asked, closing her eyes as his tongue swirled around the hard nipple.
“You seem kind of in a hurry.” He moved his head back to give her a sexy, mischievous smile.
She stared at him as he moved to the other breast, sucking the nipple deep into his mouth. His hard, tantalizing pull on her nipple sent a torrent of something sinful and forbidden rushing through her from the tip of her breast to the core of her, and she moaned, clutching his huge, muscled shoulders. A flurry of bliss danced along the edges of her vagina, and she shuddered in anticipation of the moment when he entered her. She ached to ride him, hard and fast, so much that she thought she might beg for it.
“Well, right now,” she said, moaning at the sensations swirling and dancing in and around her, “I really wish you would hurry up because I really have a problem with you not being inside me.”
“Don’t worry, sexy,” he said, gripping her ass, holding her still, and giving her just enough slack to arch. “I’ll be in there soon.”
Barely able to breathe, she trembled as desire flowed through her.
Her slit hovered just above John’s penis, and as he continued the assault on her breasts, he teased her with the large glistening tip. His large, strong hands held her in place, denying her what she wanted, what she needed; the head was close enough to send waves of ecstasy surging forward but not close enough to wash over her and drown her in a rush of pleasure.
“I don’t need it soon, I need it now.” She panted, trembling from his hot, wet mouth on her breast, tugging at the nipple, gently biting the taut, straining flesh.
“Stop being so impatient.”
“Stop playing with me,” she told him, quickly losing what little self-control she had left. “These hormones make me crazy horny. So, put it in me right now, or you’ll never put it in me again.”
“Well, since you put it that way,” he said, lowering her a bit and allowing the head to push up inside her. Intense flutters surrounded her clit, and she grabbed his shoulders, sinking her nails into his flesh as raw, searing sweet agony surged through her.
Slow and deliberate, he filled her, and she felt every inch as it moved through her, throbbing and swelling all the way.
And when he was finally sheathed within her, she cried out, her body already convulsing as ripples of sizzling electricity radiated throughout her entire body.
He slid her up and down his long, thick length, over and over, his pace slow at first as she adjusted to him. Moments later, he sped up. Soon, she caught on to his rhythm, matching it with vigor and determination, moaning as she went over the edge.
But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.
Moaning and writhing, she leaned forward and kissed him, swirling her tongue in his mouth.
John stood, and she wrapped her legs around his waist as he walked to the couch and sank down on it, still inside her as she straddled him.
Holding onto his shoulders, she moved up and down on him, wild and maniacal. Each time she rose up, she squeezed him as hard as she could, and when she moved down, she was grinding against him, taking him in all the way. She saw the frown of painful pleasure on his face, and she knew she was affecting him the same way he was affecting her. The way they fit together was perfect, magical, and hypnotic. The way he hid in her and the way she cloaked him was mesmerizing, addictive. It wasn’t long before she was thrashing and bucking, and when she came, she was screaming his name.
Collapsing against him, she was vaguely aware of him lifting her up and changing their positions. Soon she felt the warm, distressed leather against her back. Through the fog of lust, she saw him get rid of his shirt and pants.
Seconds later, he returned to her. His jaw set with determination and his eyes even darker, John put one of her le
gs around his waist and the other on his shoulder and then slid into her.
His pace chaotic and breathtaking, he gave her several, quick, deep thrusts, too many to count, and soon she felt another wave began to crest, and then a ferocious rapture crashed into her, pulling her under, drowning her in mind-numbing bliss.
Several hours later, Spencer sat in John’s lap, curled in his arms as he leaned back in the big leather chair behind his desk.
As content as a feline, she was lethargic and ridiculously satisfied after two more sessions of blistering sex, one bent over the desk and another on the floor. She was a bit sore, but if he wanted her again, she would let him have her, even though she felt it was behavior only “that wife” would do.
But she wasn’t “that wife,” she reminded herself. She wasn’t going to be “that wife.” Still, if sex would always be this spectacular with John, she would be “that wife” all day long; she would never deny him.
“In a few days, I need to go back to Belize for a meeting with the bank,” John said, breaking into her reverie. “I was hoping you would come with me.”
“Are you sure you want me to go with you?” Spencer asked, wary. “Won’t your mom and your family be horribly disappointed to see me?”
“There’s something there that I want you to see,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Something very important to me. So, please will you come?”
“Well, since you asked me in a way that makes it impossible to refuse you,” she said, and then kissed him. “Yes, I’ll go back to Belize with you.”
29
San Ignacio, Belize
Belizean Jungle
“Where are you taking me?” Spencer asked as they hiked down a wide path through banyan trees, passing hibiscus, black orchid, bird of paradise, bamboo, and elephant trees as they traveled deeper into the jungle. It had rained early this morning, leaving behind puddles and humidity, but Spencer was used to the damp, cloistered atmosphere and the smell of bark and vegetation with hints of allspice and lush floral notes.
