by Liv Bennett
“I’ll try to talk to my father, but I doubt he’ll listen to me at this point.”
“This is not only about Edelman Construction. No one has benefitted from working with liars. Make sure your father understands he’ll lose money and time if he signs any contract without investigating what kind of people he’s going to work with.” Adam picks up and places the receiver back, cursing under his breath.
“Oh, god, oh god, oh god.” I run my shaky hands through my hair, unable to contain my shock. We already signed agreements with and sent deposits to new subcontractors in that area. Everyone in the business knows we are going to take over the Berenson project. But now, we’ll not just lose money, but our reputation too will suffer from losing a project of this size.
Adam stands and returns to his pacing of the room. “I should have known those assholes at Del Piero wouldn't accept failure at the auction and would pull a trick like that.”
“What are we going to do?” Bree asks.
Adam shrugs his shoulders to show he has no idea. “Let’s wait and see if Chloe can convince her father to at least to think matters over before finalizing a contract with Del Piero.”
We wait in the conference room for Chloe’s call, none of us able to do anything else. I’m not even sure she’ll call us back, and each passing minute without the phone ringing feels like physical pain in my chest. And, when finally Adam’s cell rings, we all hold our breaths, so as not to make any noise, and watch him answer it.
“Chloe. Yes... Okay... I think that’s fair... Okay... Friday at two. I’ll be there. Thank you.” After shoving his phone back into the pocket of his pants, Adam plops on a chair and lets out a relieved breath. “Hawkins agreed to hold off signing the contract with Del Piero for a week to investigate.”
“Thank god. That’ll give us some time to put an end to this smear campaign.” If we can actually find a way.
As if reading the hesitation in my mind, Adam says, “The only way is to talk to Mr. Hawkins in person and show him the facts. I’ll ask Chloe to help set up a meeting with him.”
I work hard not to roll my eyes at the mentioning of Chloe’s name once again. I have yet to meet that woman, while Adam is speaking to and about her as if they’re best friends. “I’d like to be present in that meeting, too.”
Adam nods and starts working on a text on his phone, probably to Chloe. I shift in my chair, uncomfortable from sitting in the same position for so long, and a jolt of pain inside my belly makes me flinch.
Bree’s eyes examine me up and down. “Everything all right?”
Adam stops typing and focuses his attention on me, his brows forming a thick line above his eyes.
“Yeah, I’m fine. My leg is sleeping.” I start to get up, breathing in and out, but another attack of cramps forces me back into my chair, earning a brief shriek out of me.
Adam shows up at my side in flash. “Baby, you look pale. Tell me what’s wrong.”
I look at Bree and the others pointedly. “Can you guys leave us alone for a minute? We’ll keep you updated as soon as we know anything.”
Bree nods, grabbing her crutches, and exits with the two guys. I have to bite my lip to hold down another scream, because the same painful cramp hits my abdomen again.
It reminds me of... Oh shit.
Am I going through another miscarriage? I cover my face with my hands, shame constricting my chest. If it’s another miscarriage, I have no courage to look at Adam.
Adam’s fingers curl around my wrists and pull my hands away from my face. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.” He nestles my hands between his.
“I don’t know. I need a minute alone.”
“Taylor,” Adam says, kneeling down to my eye level, hurt clear in his expression. “It’s me.”
I turn my face to the side, because I can’t bear the thought of having another miscarriage. And this time Adam will be there to find it out, to experience it with me. I lick my dry lips and swallow, trying to decide how to explain it. “Uh, I’m having cramps... similar to the ones I had on the day of the...” A loud sob prevents me from finishing my sentence.
He loosens his hold of my hands, and I sneak a glance at his face, which is now long with disappointment. Exactly the emotion I didn’t want to cause him to have. “Are you pregnant? Taylor, I wish you wouldn’t hide anything from me. We’re in this together—”
“I don’t know,” I say to stop him. “My period is late for longer than a month now. I thought it’s the hormones after the miscarriage. But, maybe not.”
“Let’s go to the hospital.”
For what? To find out I was indeed pregnant and am losing it again?
The morning was stressful enough, first with the emotional rollercoaster due to the fake-pregnancy news from some woman, then the problem with signing contract. Even a healthy, physically strong pregnant woman might be affected, let alone someone like me, who has a history of infertility problems and miscarriage. The entire world seems to be working against me.
After Adam helps me get to my feet, we stop at the bathroom. I have to force my feet into the stall to check my underwear. Adam stands between the wall and the toilet door and watches my hands cautiously as I roll up my skirt and reach to my panties. I’ll throw up if I have to witness another blood lake.
The moment of truth comes when I pull down the panties and see no blood. Ripping a piece of toilet paper, I wipe it between my legs. And still no blood.
“No blood,” Adam says. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”
I slip my panties back up and straighten my skirt, letting out the breath I’ve been holding all this time. “I don’t know.”
He grabs my waist and slowly runs a hand over my belly. “You know I thought you felt rounder when we had sex earlier. You might indeed be pregnant.”
Yeah, with an approaching expiration date. “Why don’t you deal with the Hawkins’s case, and I go to the hospital by myself?”
“Fuck the contract. Why do you think I’ll care more about some project than your health?”
“I didn’t mean that. Someone has to deal with it.”
“It can wait, but your health can’t. I’m going with you.”
I seriously need professional help to control my feelings, because I find myself crying in the car, while driving to the hospital. I may not have blood, but cramps this painful must be proof of an impending miscarriage. I wish I could convince Adam to spare me from another meltdown at the emergency.
We wait long hours at the emergency because having cramps without blood isn’t an emergency enough, apparently. When finally a nurse calls my name, we’re ushered into a small room, and an ultrasound technician examines my abdomen.
My heart stops beating at the sound of other heartbeats filling the room. Oh, god. Am I really pregnant? With a living baby?
I can’t take my eyes away from the screen, although I have no idea what I should be looking at.
“You’re not having a miscarriage, Mrs. Garnett. You’re nine weeks pregnant with a healthy baby,” the young girl says, holding the ultrasound pads.
Adam lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles, hardly holding back his tears. I want to ask the technician if she’s absolutely sure, but the heartbeats are loud enough to keep me from demanding nonsense.
“His heart is beating too fast,” I point out.
“Yeah, reminds me of my own while I do cardiac workouts.” Adam gazes at me, smiling, and I know what kind of cardiac workout he’s talking about.
“The heart rate of a healthy fetus around eight or nine weeks will be over 130 beat per minute. Your baby’s heart rate is just fine.” The technician collects the pads and gives me a paper towel to wipe away the gel off of my belly.
“How about the cramps?” I ask, fearing a discouraging reply.
“Cramps, vomiting, feeling of tiredness, frequent urinations, etc. are common pregnancy symptoms. You should set up an appointment with your OB/GYN immediately to get more information about pregnancy
and start your prenatal care. Until then, you might want to start taking prenatal vitamins which should include folic acid and iron.”
Prenatal vitamins? They always make me constipated.
“I’ll make sure of it,” Adam says, and as soon as we’re out of the hospital, sweeps me off my feet and spins around.
“Slow down. I’ll throw up,” I scream, laughing. I can’t believe I get to experience this magical moment that I thought I’d never have with my husband. Nine weeks! I could make it to nine long weeks of pregnancy. Four more weeks and the most risky first trimester will be over. Add another twenty-six weeks, and our baby will be in my arms.
What an incredible turn of events that first had me believe Adam’s expecting a baby with another woman, then turns out it’s me who’ll have a baby with him. A baby with crazy heartbeats. I don’t mind it at all if every awful tragedy ends with such a beautiful reward.
10 – ADAM: Silence before the storm
I’m living in bliss. My marriage with Taylor was already a piece of heaven, but her pregnancy has brought everything up to a new level. I haven’t seen her this happy and beautiful in my life. She laughs, sings, jokes, simply thrives on life. Her belly has grown bigger; it takes more than both my hands to cover it. And I can’t even begin with her breasts.
Adriana, my sister, succeeded in squeezing out the information about Taylor’s pregnancy, even though I’d promised to Taylor that I’d keep it from everyone until the last trimester. As soon as I’d finished talking to Adriana on the phone, I received a call from Eleanor, my younger sister, congratulating me for becoming a father. It took two days for the twins to hear about it and call me back, I guess because of the time difference, since they were on a backpacking trip through Europe. I had to force each of my sisters to promise to keep their knowledge about the pregnancy from Taylor.
It’s hard to be surrounded by so many women.
The private investigator I hired couldn’t find anything regarding the woman who’d sent the text messages. But, I managed to smooth out the problems about the Berenson project with Mr. Hawkins, thanks to Chloe’s help. She’s been really supportive and truly believed in Edelman Constructions’ ability to effectively carry out the responsibilities of an account any size.
We’re finally starting with the construction today. I’m not familiar with the new subcontractors, though they came highly recommended. Since the first day at the site will set the tone for the rest of the project’s life, I’ll have to observe and instruct each and every employee to make sure they know what is expected from them.
The morning rays of the sun coming through the curtains hit my eyes, and I roll on my back. Taylor has escaped to the bathroom for probably the fifth time to pee, as if she drank a gallon of milk before going to bed. I don’t know what’s going on with her body, but it seems like the amount of liquid multiplies tenfold inside her, causing her to use the bathroom too frequently for a healthy adult.
I hear the toilet door open, then close, and hear her tiptoeing back to the bed. She must be thinking I’m sleeping, and I’ll leave her to continue in her belief, because I’ve grown addicted to her morning surprises. Like the increase in her bathroom visits, her libido has gotten out of control, too. For which I can’t complain.
The bed moves as she sneaks on it and pulls the covers down. A brief sigh escapes her mouth, probably at the sight of my hard-on beneath my boxers. Envisioning her getting wet for me makes me horny in an instant.
I keep on feigning sleep, anxious to experience what she has in store for our raging desire. I feel her move on the bed, but don’t dare part my eyelids for fear of being caught. The sudden touch of her fingers at my hips, hooking in the waistband of my boxers almost makes me moan. She slowly pulls them down, making sure my cock doesn’t get caught in the waistband, and stops a moment once my cock is freed from the fabric. My heart is hammering in anticipation of the next seconds, and I’m torn between keeping my eyes closed to enjoy the mystery or open them to watch her as she pleasures herself with my cock.
Her warm breath touches my skin before her hands, and the next thing I know, her tongue slides along my cock.
Fuck!
My breath hitches at my throat, and my cock twitches at the warm moistness when she takes all of me inside her mouth without any forewarning, and begins sucking me as if I’m her favorite flavor of ice cream.
“Oh, baby,” I purr.
She chuckles; the vibration coming from the depths of her throat makes my cock grow harder. Her hands grab along my shaft as she pulls her mouth away from me. My cock twitches in protest at losing the warm moistness of her mouth.
“I knew you weren’t sleeping.” She moves over me, her hands trailing up my chest, her legs straddling my hips, and sits on my cock without any panties blocking the way.
I open my eyes to see the lustful look on her face, as she rocks herself back and forth along the length of my cock. Her eyes are half-open, barely gazing at me. The lips of her dripping-wet pussy squeeze me teasingly. Her mouth opens and closes with a moan each time her entrance hits the head of my cock, but she won’t let me in just yet. I let her enjoy herself, although I’m dying to feel the heat inside her hug me tightly.
“Take this off,” I say, pointing at the long, cotton nightgown she’s wearing. Gone are the sexy baby dolls and lacy lingerie I used to enjoy.
She doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t. I’d be damned if she does one thing, just one simple thing, I ask her without objecting. She’s set on not believing my words about her sexy looks. “Are you sure? I’m not comfortable when I’m completely naked.”
“Not that nonsense again. Baby, I’m sorry I have to tell this, but I think you’re so much sexier now that you’re more than a handful. I guess I’ll have to get you pregnant every year to enjoy those big curves of yours.”
“Oh, shut up. I don’t believe a word of it.”
If she’s complaining about her looks with only a few extra pounds, I can’t begin to imagine how she’ll cover herself up when she gets really voluptuous near the end of her pregnancy. How a beautiful and smart woman like Taylor can have body-image issues is beyond me. I straighten up on the bed, careful not to change the way she’s snuggling my penis between her legs, and yank the gown over her head. “Guess I’ll have to find a way to get rid of all those ugly nightgowns before you get too comfortable in them.”
“Don’t even think about it, or I’ll not have sex with you anymore.”
Wrapping my arms around her waist, I move her down on her back on the bed and settle between her legs, poking the head of my cock against her entrance.
Her eyes roll to the back of her head, and her breath becomes labored and shallow beneath me when I slide my cock up and down her pussy. “Oh, god, I want you.”
I’m only too willing to give her what she wants and slip inside of her, watching her lips open up and let out a moan mixed with a smile.
“I’m not kidding, Taylor. I think I’m developing some kind of a pregnancy fetish. Your body has never been so sexy.”
She snorts, only to let out another whimper when I thrust into her harder.
“The hypnotizing way your wide hips sway, and your tits look as if they’ll spill out of your bra. Your face glows and your belly is so fucking firm.” I move a hand down to caress it. It’s true. Everything about her overwhelms my senses and every inch of my being. “And to think, my semen did all that.”
“Have I made the biggest mistake of my life and married a creeper? Just like the guy who hit on me at the grocery store yesterday. He said I took his breath away with my feminine figure. Who says something like that to a pregnant woman?” she murmurs, her eyes closed.
“What?” I stop cold, unable to believe what she’s talking about. “Someone hit on you, and you’re telling me just now? Who was he? Did you inform security?”
“Oh, no, Adam, don’t stop. I’m so close.” She grabs my buttocks and digs her nails into my skin, pulling me against her, and I resume my
thrusts, pumping back into her with rage against that guy who laid his eyes on what belongs to me.
“You’re not gonna talk to any strangers any more. Do you hear me?” I whisper to her ear, but I guess my words don’t make it through her load moan, as her entire body stiffens with an orgasm. The way her pussy walls tighten around my cock sets my own release without further ado, and I arch back as my load hits her cervix. I remember in the last second not to collapse onto her body and throw myself over to the bed. Between my heavy breaths, I repeat my request, only to have her snort back at me again.
“Believe me, the last thing I want to do is talk to a pregnancy fetishist,” she says, with a seductive smile on her face, and hugs me. Now it’s not only the feeling of her boobs but also the pressure of her firm belly against my body that gets my heart racing wildly. And she claims pregnant women aren’t sexy.
Wrapping her legs around mine, she snuggles in closely and begins rubbing her pussy, wet with both our juices, against my thigh.
I prop my head on my hand and look down at her beautiful face. “What? I thought you climaxed.”
“Climaxed, yes, but not yet finished.”
“What got you so horny?”
