Have My Baby: Baby and Pregnancy Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

  She continued massaging me, working the muscles deep and soothing the nerves, my leg suddenly feeling a lot better. When I was able to, she put me through a lighter version of our old physical therapy routine.

  “I could really get used to having a woman around the place.”

  “What for? Physical therapy or to work on the house?” Anne asked, with a laugh.

  Oh how I loved her laughter, which was a combination of sexy and cute – the best of both worlds, really. Which made me think of the perfect answer.

  “Why not both? And other things too, maybe?”

  She stripped off the T-shirt, revealing her bra and panties. She climbed on top of me so she that she was straddling me. Planting a soft kiss square on my lips, she put her mouth next to my ear, her warm breath against my face and whispered,

  “Where do you want to start?”

  “Hey? With what?”

  “The housework,” she said, hopping up gingerly before helping me to my feet.

  “I'm going to make you pay for that later tonight,” I said, spanking her softly on her nearly bare ass, making her jump with surprise, her yelp turning to a giggle.

  “I can't wait!”

  Taking her at her word, I led her out to the yard, giving her a time to get dressed warmly first, it simply being too cold up here for her to try working in her undies. No matter how sexy, and funny, that would have been.

  “Have you ever done anything like this before?” I asked, as Anne stared somewhat wide-eyed at the building side.

  “Nope.”

  “I'll walk you through it,” I said.

  “Okay.”

  Things went fairly well from there. I didn't have Anne do very much. Mostly she just handed me lumber and tools and such, seriously saving on the number of trips I had to take, cutting the construction time in half.

  By the time the light was waning on the horizon, making sure there would be no further work that day, we had the foundation in and about half of the deck laid. With a bit more help like that, I could have the whole thing built and stained over the weekend.

  I pulled Anne to me and kissed her affectionately on the head. She giggled and hugged me back.

  “Shall we head in, m'lady?” I asked.

  “Yes we shall, sir.”

  Like a pair of Victorian toffs, we made our way back to the cabin, arms linked in a most jovial way as the light around us faded.

  Chapter Fourteen - Anne

  We walked back to the house in the beautiful, blue twilight, the sun still barely visible through the trees. The air had cooled even more, and Sawyer gently stroked my shoulder, trying to keep me warm.

  “Who called?” I asked, un able to contain my curiosity any more.

  “When?” Sawyer asked.

  I couldn't tell if he was playing dumb or really didn't know what I meant.

  “Today, this morning, while you were making breakfast. I heard you talking but couldn't quite make out what you were saying. Not that I was trying to or anything. I was just surprised. I didn't think that you talked to anyone. Doing the cool, loner woodsman thing and all that.”

  “Oh, that was just Pat,” he said, laughing it off.

  “I'm sure Pat appreciates being referred to as 'just,'” I teased.

  “What he doesn't know won't hurt him. He was calling about the conference I was supposed to go to for people who had lost limbs. It is kind of Pat's thing.”

  “Wait, you didn't miss it because of me, did you?”

  “Not exactly. I mean, you were a consideration. I have every intention of staying right here until you are recovered. Since we don't know how long that might take, I couldn't commit to the set date of the conference, so Pat got someone else to take my spot as key-note speaker.

  “There is another one in a month I wasn't sure about, but it will be okay if I make the one after that, I’m sure of it. I am going to be speaking there to a group of vets who not only have lost limbs to deal with, but trauma, too.

  Apparently, the suicide rate for amputees is really going up and Pat wants to do more outreach. To try and show them that their life isn't over. He sees me as something of an inspiration.”

  “I can see how he might think that.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, I don't mean that I do. I can just see how someone would,” she joked.

  “That’s it! You are not getting any tonight,” I said, trying to stay deadpan.

  “Let's just wait and see, shall we?”

  “Indeed we shall. Seriously, though, you should come with me.”

  “To the conference?”

  “To all the conferences. It could be really interesting, and we could help a lot of people between my designs and your physical therapy experience.”

  Panic seized me in its cold grip. I couldn't think about traveling, especially to cities. Particularly if we were going to be taking cars.

  I really didn't like cars much right then. I had ditched mine as soon as I could and took the trail up. We had everything we needed at Sawyer's place. There was no reason that I could see to leave.

  Sawyer took me and hugged me as I shook, terror over taking me. I did my best not to cry, to stay strong for him, but it was difficult.

  “It's okay,” he said, rubbing my back, “I can imagine how you feel. I lost both my parents. Not like you lost your dad, but I have an idea how it feels. Like being cut loose from the reality you thought you knew because they were always just there.”

  “Wow, you do understand.”

  “I also know that there is hope and healing that can come out of tragedy and trauma.”

  I couldn't really argue with him there. I really couldn't imagine what he had been through. He had so many more years of living than I did, yet he had really made the best of it. I realized it would be in my best interest to try and listen to him and his wisdom. Even if I could barely move out of fear.

  “You're right,” I finally said.

  “I am? Wow I don't hear that often.”

  “Please, don't joke.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Don't be. It is one of the things I love about you. You could look on the bright side of a plane crash.”

  “What was that about jokes?”

  “Hush, I am talking now.”

  “Now that I have heard before.”

  “I agree with you that Pat is doing really good work and I can see why you want to want to be a part of it. Like you said, it is a chance to do a lot of good. A chance not many of us get.”

  “You can be part of it, too,” he objected. “You could do something to help, like doing physical therapy with vets who have lost limbs.”

  I burst out laughing. Sawyer looked at me strangely but didn't seem to be angry. It was more like he was confused. I hadn't laughed to mock him. I just couldn't even imagine going about doing what he was suggesting.

  It seemed like an absurd proposition. He might as well have told me I could be Queen of Mars.

  “I'm really sorry, nervous reaction,” I said, trying to recover and explain myself.

  “You're forgiven.”

  “I mean, thank you for the offer. I'm just really not ready to travel yet. Not even to the City. I have to go back to go to my dad's funeral and I'm dreading even that but there is no way in hell that I am going to miss it.”

  “Of course not. Not even if I have to drive you down there myself and hold your hand through the entire ceremony.”

  “You just might have to. Though I am beginning to see why you weren't planning to come down off the mountain. I would stay up here forever if I could.”

  “You can.”

  I kissed him on the cheek, feeling the rough brush of his beard against my lip. The tears came then but they were happy tears. I was so lucky.

  I really didn't know if I was ready to face the world and honestly, I did wish that I could have stayed up here in solace and peace for the rest of my life.

  But I had to say goodbye to my father.

&nb
sp; In spirit if not in body.

  I owed that much to him.

  No matter what it might cost me.

  Mom was going to need me also.

  I was really glad that Sawyer would be coming with me.

  His presence would give me strength.

  Chapter Fifteen - Anne

  I spent the next several days in bed.

  There was something about the shock of the notion of traveling and the reminder that my daddy was dead, that set me back. I really didn't want to do anything, for fear it might hurt.

  Sawyer was amazing and stayed by my side the entire time. I'm not sure how much sleep he could have possibly gotten. Every time I would start screaming and thrashing with another night terror, he would be there to wake me up and hold me as I shook and wept.

  Despite the awfulness of the situation he never seemed to hold it against me or show any signs of frustration. He would just hold me and kiss me and, if I was up to it, eat my pussy or fuck my ass. Both were the best ways we had found to calm me down after a particularly bad episode.

  Maybe it was weird to cope with trauma through sex, but it helped me. It felt really good and I felt blessed to have someone like Sawyer who was willing to put up with me. Even being as messed up as I was. Then again, he knew a thing or two about that and could clearly empathize.

  Sawyer was eating my pussy on the morning we were supposed to leave for NYC, trying to calm down my nerves, which were already on edge. I lay there, one arm over my eyes, trying to focus on the pleasure, not the pain I was feeling or the stress I could feel approaching like a dark shadow.

  I started to cum, which was the only thing that kept me from tears. It felt so good as his tongue circled my clit and then his lips sucked on it. Sawyer finished me off and held me as I trembled.

  “I'm here,” he whispered, “I'll protect you.”

  I calmed down and kissed him as he held me. He didn't let go until I was sure I was absolutely ready.

  Carrying me to the bath, Tom gently scrubbed me all over, getting me ready for appearing in public. Gently massaging me and playing with my pussy on occasion to keep me calm which worked really well. He always seemed to know exactly what to do to help me feel better.

  I hardly had any clothes there and certainly nothing appropriate for a funeral. I hadn’t thought about those details when I had rushed up here.

  Sawyer, as usual, had a brilliant idea. Patting me dry with an insanely expensive Egyptian cotton towel, he took me back into the bed and sat me down. I thought we might have sex again but instead he started looking through his closet and his dresser.

  Finally, he found what he was looking for. An over-sized, black Oxford shirt with long sleeves that on me looked like a dress. Particularly if I putted the sleeves up just so, and then once I added the one belt I had brought, to cinch it around my waist and give it some form.

  “You still need shoes,” he said, looking down at my bare feet and frowning.

  Returning to his closet, there was another bout of rummaging and he came back with a pair of black Doc Martens that looked way too small for him.

  “My first pair. I saved them out of a sense of nostalgia. It’s back from when I was a Boys 8, which I think is about the same as a women's size 6.”

  “You know my shoe size.”

  “I work with replacing limbs, remember? I know all the major body parts. And can size them up easily, just by looking.”

  I blushed then, fighting the juvenile urge to say something naughty. If Sawyer had noticed, he let it slide. I was glad, since we didn’t have time to Do the Deed.

  Gently putting the boots on for me as I watched, Sawyer got me to my feet and we left the cabin, his big, warm lumberjack shirt hung over my shoulders for the walk down to his car, which was parked next to mine.

  I flinched slightly when I saw it. It was an unwelcome reminder of my old life, which I knew could never be the same way again.

  I couldn't really remember what happened next. I was such a mess that the next thing I knew, Sawyer was leading me up the front steps of the church, his arm tight around me, mostly for comfort but also, I guess, to keep me from trying to run.

  I would be lying if I said I hadn't thought about it. I had no idea where I would go, though. The City would find me wherever I went. I just knew I had the urge to escape. Not the funeral particularly but the city in general.

  The door closed with a bang behind us and suddenly I felt better. I knew the smell as soon as I was able to focus. Calla lilies. Dad's favorite.

  I filled the space between Sophia and my mom, Sawyer taking the pew behind us, gently squeezing my shoulder to let me know he was still there. I could hear my mom crying. It was soft but still there, though I was impressed at how strong she was being. They each took one of my hands and we did our best to comfort each other.

  The service was celebratory in nature. Everyone seemed to have a lot of nice things to say about dad. I had heard once that people lie at funerals. Or at least there is a tendency to accentuate the positive after someone has passed.

  If an alien race were to study the population of earth based only on our eulogies, they would be left with the impression that everyone on the planet was incredibly fantastic. Except that dad really was incredibly fantastic and everything that was said about him was entirely true, according to my own personal experience.

  It was nice to hear everyone else agreeing and giving examples of how they, too, had found him fantastic. I found myself caught between crying and smiling. I was grief-stricken that he was dead but also full of pride to have been partly created by such a man.

  There was a luncheon after the service. I really didn't think that I would be able to eat much of anything, though I went anyway, at least partly at Sawyer's gentle insistence. I knew I should be there for my mom although I wished that for myself, I could just head back to the cabin and under the covers.

  He never broke contact with me, keeping his hand on the small of my back, just to let me know that he was there. I wasn't alone.

  Everyone was talking about dad. Both those who had the chance to proclaim it from the pulpit as well as those who hadn't. I was probably asked to speak. I hadn't checked my email since I got to the mountain and had no idea. I wouldn't have been able to even if I had, though. I was barely keeping it together, just being there.

  I listened in to some of the conversation, everyone seeming to have a story of courage or selflessness, almost always peppered with laughter. Dad could have that effect on people – leaving them in awe while also making them laugh.

  The general consensus was that he died too soon, of course. This tended the be the sentiment when people died. Particularly if it happened in their sixties or seventies. But dad had only been forty-five, my parents having gotten married pretty young, even for the '90s. I always knew they loved each other, though. And a car accident was no way to go out – he deserved to live a lot longer but had sadly met horrible fate.

  I could see my mom with a cluster of other family members, holding court. The oldest of her siblings, taking over when their mother left, she had always been seen as the matriarch.

  This experience carried over when it came time to start her own family. I was their only child, but mom had always been the rock. Dad had been a great father and a good man but never really handled pressure very well.

  When the shit hit the fan, it was always mom who stepped up and got things sorted. I was really impressed at how well she was holding it together. She was probably grieving as much, if not more, than anyone, yet her main concern was still for those around her.

  “You okay, sweetie?” Sawyer asked, stroking my back.

  “I think so.”

  “Can you eat anything?” he asked.

  “I-I don't know.”

  “Let's give it a try, hey?”

  “Okay.”

  Gently guiding me over to the serving table, Sawyer did up a plate for me, choosing the lightest food he could find. I had to
admit that it looked really good. My stomach started grumbling in agreement.

  Finding a table away from the thick of things, Sawyer left me for a moment to get his own plateful, coming back as soon as he could, staying within my line of sight the entire time he was gone.

  Sawyer was absolutely right. I did need to eat. Not only did I start to feel a bit better, both physically and mentally, the food was really good and cheered me up a bit just because of that. Camus was right. It was the simple things that made our otherwise intrinsically meaningless existence worth living.

  Feeling a bit better, I started to look around and noticed that the group around mom was beginning to disperse. I wanted to talk to her, even though she had just gotten the chance to eat. Without really thinking, I drifted over to her table, Sawyer close behind me, carrying his only half finished plate of food with him.

  “Hey, mom,” I said, sitting next to her.

  “Honey!” she sighed, hugging me tight.

  “I'm sorry I took so long to come over; I didn't want to interrupt.”

  “Interrupt nothing! I always have time for my little girl!”

  Her gaze fell on Sawyer, looking him up and down a few times. I couldn't really blame her. He really was a startling specimen of manliness.

  “Hello and who are you?”

  “I'm Sawyer,” he said, holding out a hand of greeting, which mom gladly shook.

  “Honey! You didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!”

  I blushed furiously. I really didn't know how to explain what was going on with me and Sawyer.

  What were we, anyway?

  I would definitely say we were friends. That made sense. We had known each other a long time and got along really well.

  Though, quite aside from the living together and the wonderful, frequent sex, there was also the fact that we were both victims of tragedy, trying to help each other cope. Partly through wonderful, frequent sex. A unique situation if there ever was one.

  “I've been keeping her pretty busy,” Sawyer said, nipping my problem of what exactly to say in the bud.