His baby.
He slowed his steps in the waiting room when he saw Jennifer’s grinning face. She scooped Krista out of his arms, taking the diaper bag from Lauren who trailed after him. “I’ll have her back to you in a few hours. I’ll call first,” she said cheerfully.
“Jenny, this isn’t a good time after all,” Lauren said slowly, closing her eyes briefly. “I-”
“Nonsense. Dale, this was Lauren’s little surprise for you. An early birthday present, some time alone. Have fun,” she called out, already sailing out the door.
“Jenny, wait-”
“No,” Dale said, speaking for the first time. “Go on, Jenny.” Then he grasped Lauren’s arm above her elbow, guiding her outside.
“Dale-”
He cast her a frigid glance that froze the words on her tongue. She fell silent. After all, what could she say?
‘I’m sorry,’ sure as hell wouldn’t cut it.
The rest of the drive home passed in the quiet confines of the Explorer. Lauren wrapped her arms around her body, cursing herself endlessly. Why didn’t you tell him sooner? He was so angry. Lauren doubted she had ever seen him this furious before. She thought she had the knack of being cold down to a science, but Dale could teach her a thing or two.
Dale was cursing them both. Lauren, for hiding this from him. Himself for not remembering. For his rough assault on her. Seduction was too polite a word to describe what he had done. It had been the most glorious minutes of his life and though she had climaxed, though he hadn’t been brutal, she hadn’t given consent. Had tried to push him away.
Was that why he had blocked out the memory of it being Lauren?
When they were in the house, Lauren took a deep breath and braced herself.
“Were you ever planning to tell me?” he asked quietly, throwing his keys on the table. He slung his jacket across the back of the chair and advanced on her. Hands buried inside the pockets of her long black leather trench coat, she eyed him warily, as though fearing he would pounce on her.
He was tempted. By God, he thought praying for patience. He was tempted. He wanted to turn her over his knee for not telling him. Wanted to shake her for standing there so calmly, as though she hadn’t just shattered the foundation of his world. He had accepted it, that Krista wasn’t his. Even had the sense to be grateful for whatever circumstances put her in his life.
And all along, it had been his baby.
“Answer me,” he rasped after she remained silent too long. “Were you going to tell me, if I hadn’t figured it out?”
“I don’t know,” she answered quietly. Damned if she’d lie about it, she had her reasons, good ones.
“Were you just out slumming?” he asked casually, turning away to grab a beer from the fridge. He opened it with one vicious twist of his wrist and drained half the contents before glaring at her.
She opened her mouth to speak but closed it, realizing there was nothing she could say. She lowered her head, her eyes on the floor.
“Why did you lie to me?”
Her chin went up several notches and she met his frigid eyes squarely. Now she did speak. “I never once lied to you, except by omission. You were the first I told. And you told me more often than I could count that if you couldn’t have a family with Nicole, you didn’t want one at all. I wasn’t about to force one on you.”
“I had a right to know,” he said, his voice vibrating with fury.
“Yes, you did,” she agreed quietly. “But I know you, Dale. I wasn’t going to force you into something you didn’t want. I didn’t want an obligated father for my child.”
“And what you want is what counts,” he replied, silkily. “Screw anybody else. If we hadn’t ended up together, would you have robbed your kid of a father?”
“It takes more than sperm to make a father, Dale. You have to love the baby, want it. I would no more raise my child in a home where she was an obligation than I would sell myself on the streets.” She spoke levelly, keeping her voice calm even as her stomach churned sickly. In concession to her weak knees, she did walk over to the table and sit, folding her hands in front of her.
“So you waited around, hung around, until all I could think about was you,” he accused, realizing as he spoke how stupid he sounded. “Until all I could think of was you, until I fell in love with you and you had your damned husband.”
“That,” she announced, “is the most foolish thing I have ever heard. I never expected you to love me.”
“You sure as hell didn’t fight it, did you?”
“Why would I? Damn it, Dale, I’ve loved you for years. Why would I fight what I wanted most in life?” she demanded, shoving herself to her feet, her voice passionate, eyes hot.
That slowed him a little, that emotion, the flare of temper. But the anger was too great and won over again. “You have no idea how much I hated him. How jealous I was. And it was me all along,” he said, his voice rough with the rage he was trying to hold in check.
He turned and met her eyes. “That night that we fought, before I left for New York. It wasn’t Nicole. It was you I was dreaming of. I’d been dreaming of you for months and could never see your face. You haunted me, turned me inside out. I felt guilty all these months for dreaming about it, for fantasizing about fucking my own wife!”
Her eyes widened, her mouth formed a soundless, “Oh,” but Dale was too furious to care about how his admission affected her. “And all the damn time, it was you that night!” he shouted, hurling the half full bottle of beer against the wall. It shattered, beer splattering the wall, small shards of glass flying. “You!
“Why in the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried,” she said, hating how shaky her voice sounded. “You said you didn’t want to know.”
He remembered. “You should have told me before that. And no matter what I said that night, you should have told me any way. Why the hell didn’t you?”
“I didn’t want to lose you,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She wanted desperately to go to him, but the rage in his eyes, the anger, the very stiffness in his shoulders, kept her where she was.
“I love you. I would have understood. I’d have been angry, but damn it, if I’d heard it from you…Damn it, Lauren. I don’t even know if I can trust you. This is the most important thing that has ever happened to me and you kept it from me.”
He turned away, staring out the window while Lauren forced herself to take deep calming breaths. “I’m sorry. I can’t do or say anything that will change it. But I did it because I thought it was best. You told me you didn’t want to get married and didn’t want a family if you couldn’t have Nikki. You didn’t love me. This child deserved better than that. So did I.”
“You deserve the best, Lauren. I would have done my damnedest to give it to you.”
“You couldn’t have. Not as long as you loved, or thought you loved, Nikki. Do you remember the whole of it, Dale? You called me her name,” she hissed, closing her eyes against the remembered pain, the humiliation of that. “I’ve loved you for years and when you finally touched me, you called me by her name.”
She dashed away the tears that had seeped through her closed eyes before bitterly saying, “You were having sex with me and making love to her and you called me Nikki. You ripped my heart out and didn’t even know it. I couldn’t be your substitute for her. So I didn’t tell you.”
“I could have been a father without being a husband.” He said it without turning around, aching inside.
“Yes. You could have. But that isn’t what you would have done. And I couldn’t have told you no. You’re my weakness, Dale. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy.”
“Except tell me the truth.”
“I’m sorry,” Lauren repeated, her voice dull.
“Sorry,” he said, laughing bitterly. Then he took a deep breath and opened the door. “I’m going outside.”
Lauren closed her eyes as the door shut and gave in to the urge to wee
p.
Dale entered the bedroom, listening to the shower running in the master bathroom. He didn’t know what the hell to do, how to feel. The only thing he did know was that he wanted his wife.
It had been far too long.
He reached behind him, grabbed the material of his tee shirt and pulled it off, kicked off his shoes, shucked his jeans. Lauren stood under the shower, soaping her body while he stood there watching her with hot needy eyes.
He opened the door to the shower stall and stepped under the spray and pulled her up against him, ignoring her startled cry. “It doesn’t matter right now,” he muttered thickly as she stiffened. “Dale-” she said, trying to move away. She’d tried to pull back that first time, as well, he remembered. At first. Running his hands over her wet body, he lowered his head to nuzzle at her shoulder. I’m not waiting any longer to touch you,” he said gruffly, cupping her full breasts in his hands.
He dipped his finger inside her, shuddering as she closed tightly over him. She had been tight that night too, clinging to him like he was all that mattered in the world, like he was the only man to have ever touched her, had gloved him as though she had been created just to fit him. “Lauren,” he groaned against her skin.
He turned the shower off abruptly, picking her up and carrying her out of the steamy bathroom. But he didn’t put her on the bed. He braced her back against the wall. “Like this,” he muttered, his voice thick.
“Dale, no. You’re still angry-”
He covered her mouth with his, cutting her protest off. When she turned her head away from his mouth, he caught her face in his hands, covering her mouth with his and taking it roughly. He cursed when she bit his tongue, but when she tried to dart away, he snagged her wrist, turned, pressed her up against the door. He caught her narrow wrists in one hand, the other hand closing over a milk heavy breast. He tipped his head back, watching with satisfaction as her eyes darkened to the color of storm clouds.
“Dale, wait,” she insisted once more.
He plunged his fingers deep as she gasped. “I’ve already waited long enough,” he told her. “So have you. Can you tell me you don’t want me?” Mutely, she stared at him, and slowly, shook her head. “I didn’t think so. Give me your mouth.” Then he covered her mouth with his, his tongue mimicking the motions of his hand.
Her hips rose helplessly against him, a dazed whimper coming from her parted lips. She stared at him, bewildered, as he lowered her hands, but before she could even acknowledge that she was free, he cupped her bottom and lifted her. “Dale…” she gasped, sucking in air, before trying again. Dale, wait.” Her voice ended in a breathy gasp when he settled between her legs.
“Are you sure you want me to wait? Really sure?” he drawled as he traced a fingertip along the entrance of her body. She was wet and so hot, it was a wonder she didn’t singe his hand. Her wet folds were almost dripping with need. She wanted, all right. She might not be happy with it, but she wanted. Her eyes were full of emotion now, hot with need, clouded with confusion and uncertainty.
“Not like this,” she whispered raggedly. Not with all this anger left between us.
“This particular position has always worked well for us, don’t you think?” he asked conversationally, ignoring her plea as he braced her back against the wall, ignoring her halfhearted attempts to push him away.
She was strong enough, skilled enough, to stop him, if she had really wanted to. Later, he would wonder why, only to realize she’d already given him her answer. You’re my weakness, Dale. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to make you happy.
Her mouth opened, but Dale covered it with his before she could speak. As he plunged his tongue inside her mouth, his hips thrust forward, burying himself in her body. He filled her roughly, completely burying his cock inside her tight, wet little pussy to the hilt. She flinched, pulling away from him, recoiling in pain.
A little trickle of awareness rolled through him and he wondered at it. The pain in her eyes looked familiar, distressingly so. Those eyes looked huge and dark in her pale face and her hands were bunched into fists against his shoulders. What had he ever done to make her look like that? When had he seen that distressed, confused, and needy look in her eyes before? When?
Dale stilled, guilt flooding him as he rested inside her tight body. She was wet, yes, needy, yes, but her body, only just now recovering from childbirth, was far from ready for him. The distress in her eyes ripped at his heart. Soothingly, he pressed a kiss to her eyes, her trembling mouth before locking an arm under her bottom. He moved away from the wall, carrying her to the bed. Her legs locked around his hips and as he moved, she shuddered.
He started to pull out of her, but she tightened around him, her damp flesh growing more welcoming by the second. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her gently, grieving inside. He hooked his arms under hers, holding her tightly to him as her arms wound around his neck.
Gently, he moved against her, closing his eyes at the hot pleasure of it. She surrounded him tightly, smoothly, her body hot, wet, fitting him to perfection. A rippling sigh escaped her, followed by an eager little moan. Heaven and hell, he loved her. His heart felt as though it were breaking inside him.
She hadn’t trusted him to take care of her, to want a child he had helped make. What kind of man did she think he was?
He propped himself on his elbows, cupping her face once more in his hands as everything inside him died a slow withering death. Her eyes were bright with tears he knew instinctively she would never shed. He pressed a kiss to each eyelid before covering her mouth with his.
With slow, deep strokes, he took her, using his hands to help drive her to the brink of madness while he nuzzled and sipped at her milk heavy breasts. Thirstily, he suckled as tiny beads of milk escaped her nipples to trickle down her breasts. Moaning, he lapped it up, hungry for more.
It was slow and bittersweet, not the way Lauren had wanted this first time to be.
She cried out as he sipped from her nipples, when he pulled away to mutter, “God, that’s sweet,” before returning to lap at her again.
Dale swallowed the tiny droplets of milk that tasted like honey before he took her mouth again, diving his tongue deep to seek out hers, tangling with her tongue and tasting her while he trailed one hand down, shifted his position until he could stroke her clit.
Lauren gasped out his name, everything inside going tight. She lifted her hips, taking his cock deeper as he continued to flick her clit lazily, tweaking and tugging on it until she was whimpering and straining.
“Dale, please,” she pleaded, seeking his mouth, seeking his body with hers as she climbed toward release. He rolled his hips, until he was brushing her now throbbing clit with his body every time he rocked against her. His hand palmed her ass, and he slid one finger between her cheeks to press against her anus.
It shot her straight over the edge and her milking contractions pulled him along with her.
As she climaxed around him, tears slid silently down her cheeks. He followed her with an anguished moan that he stifled against her neck. He shifted to prop his weight on his arms, unwillingly to pull away from her just yet; how had it come to this? Her silken sheath still shuddered around him and her long slim body was trembling in the aftermath. They had lain together, just like this, so often. But this was the first time he had wished he had never laid hands on her, that she was just like she had always been, his best friend. That first night was what had led to this, and the love that had always seemed so natural felt like it was withering away to ashes.
For long minutes afterward, he remained ranged atop her body. Then he rolled to the side and closed his eyes. The guilt and the anger were there, swirling inside him. This was her fault, damn it. He tried to thrust the blame on her, knowing it would do no good. He couldn’t fool himself.
He had hurt her, physically and emotionally. The one thing he’d sworn never to do to a woman, hadn’t thought he was capable of. She hadn’t wanted it, had said no, and
he hadn’t listened. Hadn’t cared.
He only cared about burying himself inside her body, getting as close to her as he could, in the only way she would let him.
The fact that he hadn’t brutalized her, or even done more than cause her a little discomfort, made no difference. He had taken her choice away.
Maybe that was why he had done it, to even the score. She hadn’t given him a choice, so he hadn’t given her one.
“Are you okay?’ he finally asked into the silence.
“Of course,” came her distant reply. She turned to her side, away from him and he wanted to yell with frustration.
Even after what had just happened, she could close him out and shut down on herself. She couldn’t even get angry like a normal person, or cry and make him feel like a jackass. How could he go crawling to her when she so obviously didn’t care?
“I’m sorry,” he said, knowing how useless, how pointless those words were.
He stared at her, willing her to turn around, to look at him. Open up to him. But she said nothing, merely lay there in silence. He wanted to reach out to her, but how could he? Finally, unable to bear the silence that echoed in the room, he rose and dressed. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he stood at the edge of the bed, watching his wife as she lay with her eyes closed, shutting him out.
“I’m sorry,” he repeated softly and then he turned on his heel and left the room.
Moments later, she heard the muffled roar of the engine as his truck sped away from the house. She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. “Sorry for what?” she asked quietly.
* * * * *
When Jenny arrived less than twenty minutes later, she took one look at Lauren’s face and asked, “What happened?”
Lauren took Krista in her arms, nuzzled her satin skinned cheek. “He knows, Jenny.”
Those simple words, combined with the heartbreak in her eyes had Jenny groaning. “Oh, no. How bad?”
Her Best Friend's Lover Page 19
