by J. E. Taylor
“Jesus, Mom,” André said, pushing the chair back into the corner with his feet. He looked at his father for help.
“Linda?” Matthew said, interrupting her disturbing train of thought.
André pointed toward the baby in Matthew’s arms. “My son,” he said, not knowing what else to say.
Linda turned toward the sleeping baby in her husband’s arms.
I told you. André sent his wide-eyed glance in Matthew’s direction.
Flabbergasted by the iridescent glaze of André’s eyes and the horny look on Linda’s face, Matthew stared between the two, picking up Linda’s silent fantasies and André’s horrified reaction.
“What’s his name?” Linda asked.
“Samuel Matthew,” André answered and exhaled when her thoughts turned away from explicit sex tricks to her grandson, but he felt dirty just the same.
RELIEF WASHED OVER André when they wheeled Katrina into the room. Her eyes stood at half-mast, groggy and unfocused until they landed on him. Then it was as if a tidal wave washed away the haze, leaving only her and André in the room.
André and his booty call smile.
He shot to his feet and approached the bed. “Hi, babe,” he said, taking her hand and wiping the offending smile off his face.
She pulled him to her lips, planting a deep, hungry kiss, one she shouldn’t have been capable of in her post-operative state. Breathless, she gasped a quick hello when he pulled away from her lip lock.
“We have a little boy. Samuel Matthew. Do you want to hold our son?”
Katrina nodded, still staring at André, her eyes glued to him and her mind rampant with desires to the point he stopped halfway to the crib, sending her a stop that look, his pointed gaze traveling from her to his father and back. He can hear you.
Blinking, Katrina shook her head, trying to rid the dirty thoughts before her father-in-law caught them, but from the look on his face, she was too late. Instead, she focused on the baby André gathered in his arms.
Their son.
Their perfect tiny bundle.
Once in her waiting arms, she gazed down at the small heart-shaped face, her breath taken away by just how beautiful he was, just like his father. Her gaze wandered back to André. “He is perfect.”
André offered a smile and kissed her cheek before exchanging a quick glance with Matthew. “Kat, did the doctor talk to you yet?”
Katrina tore her eyes away from her son. “No, why?”
He inhaled and bit his lip. Both actions lit her up, spreading a familiar heat through her and her thoughts digressed, drifting back to their wedding day.
“Stop thinking about that,” André said. His thoughts jumped there right with hers and his lips tilted in a slight grin before he banished the memory and continued, “You were in serious trouble, Kat,” he said, his eyes growing sad. “The doctor had to do more than just a C-section.”
His sincerity and sorrow bit into her, knocking all thoughts of their prior escapades out of her mind. “What does that mean?”
André tilted his head. “We can’t have any more kids.”
The words cut through her as effectively as a knife. “What?” she said, knowing full well what he just told her but unable to fully digest the information.
“We won’t be having any more kids,” he repeated. “On the upside, you won’t ever have to worry about your period.”
His attempt at levity was lost on her, and her gaze dropped to the baby in her arms. “He’s the only one?”
“Yes,” André replied. “He is a very special little boy.”
Katrina glanced back at André, tears blurring her vision. “He certainly is.” She absently wiped one as it slid down her cheek. “I tried to slow down my heart like you said.”
“You did. The doctor said it was a miracle you lived. You should have bled out before they got you to the operating room.” He touched her face. “I almost killed you,” he whispered, his eyes taking on the red sheen of tears.
“Bullshit. Even if it was the nature of the pregnancy and not a fluke, I would do it again in a second if I could.” She touched their son’s face and his little eyes fluttered opened, revealing the iridescent blue that matched his father’s at the moment. “Hi, angel boy,” she whispered and kissed her son on the forehead.
THE DOCTOR DISRUPTED the moment as he bound into the room. “Well, well, well, you’re awake. You gave us all quite a scare, young lady.” He stepped to her side, picked up her wrist and checked her pulse the old-fashioned way. Satisfied, he continued, “I’m not sure how much you recall from last night, but in order to stop the hemorrhaging, we had to perform an emergency hysterectomy.” He looked between André and Katrina. “Do you understand what that means?”
Katrina nodded. “André said we can’t have any more kids.”
“That’s correct.” He opened the chart and scanned the list of her vitals before returning his focus to them.
“It looks like you’re doing well; however, we still want you to stay for another night to make sure there are no complications relating to the transfusion. We can talk about what restrictions you’ll be under, tomorrow.”
“How long will she be under restriction?” André asked, more curious about what she was limited to.
“Six weeks. She won’t be able to lift anything heavier than your son for six weeks or participate in any strenuous activities. Which means sexual intercourse is also on hiatus during that period.” He closed the chart. “Any questions?”
“No sex?” André asked, ignoring the look from his parents.
The doctor nodded. “Usually with a C-section, it’s eight weeks.”
It was André’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “Eight weeks?”
“Six in your situation,” the doctor clarified.
“A year,” Matthew said, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. “Not until you’re both eighteen.”
André laughed aloud and looked back at the doctor. “Six weeks,” he agreed with shimmering eyes.
The doctor smiled. He checked the cauterization on her stomach and pressed lightly on her abdomen. “Does this hurt?”
“No,” Katrina answered, her eyes glued on André and his smile. Her heart fluttered under his stare and everyone else in the room disappeared. The cry of her son broke through the haze and she dragged her eyes away from her husband to her little boy.
“He’s hungry,” André said. It was the same tone of discontent the baby had earlier.
Katrina raised her gaze to the doctor.
“I’ll send the nurse in with some formula. I’d rather you not breastfeed until after you are medicine free.” He disappeared and the nurse who flirted with André earlier came in.
“Hello. I’m Nancy.” Her gaze meandered toward André. She let her eyes drift over his body and then directed her attention back to Katrina.
Katrina took note of the way the nurse looked at André and shot a questioning glance in his direction. He shrugged in response and stepped away so the nurse could hand Katrina the bottle of formula she carried. The nurse left with a lingering glance in André’s direction.
“What did you do to her?” Katrina asked.
On that accusatory note, Matthew and Linda left the room.
André shrugged. “I don’t know. Ever since Sam was born, the women around here have been acting funny,” he drawled and sat on the edge of the bed. “Including you,” he said, reaching out and touching her face.
Katrina closed her eyes at his touch and her body ignited. “Holy crap, André, you have got to stop doing that.” Her cheeks took on a rose hue and she opened her eyes.
“Doing what? I’m not doing anything.”
“Turning on the sex vibe,” she said. “It’s rolling off you.” Katrina shifted Sam, propping him a little lower and making sure he wasn’t sucking air along with formula.
“The sex vibe?” The ridiculousness of her statement sent him over the edge and he doubled over, laughing so hard that his eyes mis
ted red.
Her reaction was less than humorous; her pouty lips thinned and her mind filtered to the word jackass.
André wound down, still chuckling and staring at her. “Sex vibe?”
“Yes. Sex vibe.” She pulled the empty bottle out of Sam’s mouth and propped him on her shoulder, gently patting his back like she had done while babysitting the bratty neighbors when she was in junior high.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, babe, but I ain’t doing anything different.”
She raised her eyebrow. “When you can turn me and every other female on in a ten-block radius with only a smile, you’re doing something different.”
“Baby, I don’t know what to do with that,” he said, still chuckling.
“Stop with the vibe.”
“I’m not doing anything!”
“Yeah, right.” The skeptical eyebrow remained arched.
André scoffed and reached, taking Sam from her and putting him on his shoulder, patting gently, and was rewarded with a burp. The prospect of a sex vibe emanating from him was as ludicrous as him taking flight. Still, beneath the unhappy expression lay a smoldering fire and he sent a smirk and a wink in her direction before cradling his sleepy baby in his arms. “We have a little boy, Kat.” His smile softened as he took in his son, running his finger gently over his little features. He looked back at his wife. “Our son.” The reality ebbed in.
Katrina put her hands over her heart, realizing she was the luckiest woman on the planet to have his love and devotion. She sighed and closed her eyes, giving in to the sudden exhaustion.
When André looked up, Katrina was sleeping peacefully with a slight smile on her face. “Your momma is one tired lady,” he whispered to Sam and got a coo in return, followed immediately by a yawn. Sam settled into his father’s arms and drifted off. André soon followed both his wife and son into sleep.
ANDRÉ WOKE HOURS LATER in the dark with empty arms and Nurse Nancy kneeling between his legs. Her hands found his zipper and tugged and it took André a few seconds for his confused sleep-infested brain to understand this wasn’t a dream.
With a blink and a shove, he pushed her away, zipping up his pants. “No,” he hissed.
“Shh, no one has to know.”
“I’ll know.” He tried to push the chair farther into the corner to put some distance between him and the minx in front of him, but he was trapped and she was determined.
“Get out,” he gasped, pointing at the door.
“You don’t want this?” She pouted and slid her finger between her lips, pulling it out slowly, suggesting what she had in mind.
He knew a locker room full of guys who would give their right arm to wake up to an older woman with her head between their legs, but he wasn’t one of them, especially with Katrina less than an arm’s length away. “No,” he said. “I don’t.” You don’t want me. He pushed the thought harder than he meant to and she winced at the power of it.
The nurse blinked in confusion and got to her feet, straightening out her uniform before wandering out of the room without comment.
André went into the bathroom and closed the door, exhaustion overtaking his confused mind. “What the hell?” he asked his reflection and then splashed cold water on his face to erase the images from behind his eyelids. “Sex vibe?” he muttered and finally understood what Katrina alluded to. “Shit, how long is this going to last?” he said and took a deep breath, almost laughing aloud.
He wiped his face and stepped back in the dark room, crossing to check on Sam. The baby slept peacefully in the crib next to the bed and André looked down at him with a small smile, gently laying his hand on the baby’s head before he slid into bed next to Katrina. Pulling her against him, he kissed the back of her neck as she slept. She let out a soft moan at his touch and burrowed closer but didn’t wake. André closed his eyes.
The cry of their son filled the space and André sat up, disoriented by the bright, sunny room.
Katrina rolled over next to him, blinking and wiping the sleep from her eyes. “What time is it?” She yawned.
“I have no clue,” André replied, his voice raspy from sleeping. He got out of the bed and wandered over to the portable crib. “Hey there,” he croaked, smiling at his crying child. He changed the diaper and brought Sam to Katrina along with a bottle, crawling back into the narrow hospital bed.
André smiled up at Katrina. “Morning,” he said as an afterthought and kissed her gently.
“Morning.” Her smile faded with his silent confession.
“You let her?” She gasped.
“No. I was asleep and when I woke, she was there. I stopped her before anything happened. I wasn’t thinking straight and I used the influence on her, much harder than I meant to, so I don’t think she’ll remember a thing.” He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, wiping his face with his hands.
“I hope you scrambled her fucking brains,” Katrina snapped.
“Kat, watch your language.”
“Bite me.”
He reached out to touch her face and she knocked his hand away. “Not now.” The edge of a smile curved her lips as his vibe began to affect her. She shook her head angrily. “Stop that,” she said, blushing.
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything!” He stood and began to pace around the room, stopping at the window to watch the last of the sunrise.
“You are,” Katrina said, her aggravation diffusing with his predatory gait. You really don’t know what you’re doing, do you?
André sighed and shook his head, glancing back at her. “I’ve got no clue.”
“Well, just don’t let it happen again.”
André snorted, like he could control whatever was going on, but he nodded anyway. “I have to go into school today,” he said, glancing back at her. “I’ve got finals.”
“I’ll have to reschedule mine.” The baby burped in her ear and she shifted him in to her arms.
“I’ll only be gone for a couple hours.”
“Don’t you have practice?”
André offered a small smile. “Yeah, but being here is more important.”
“You’re so full of shit.” Katrina laughed. “You’re just trying to win brownie points.”
André glanced at her sideways, his crooked smile charming her. “Is it working?”
“A little.”
He went to her side and gently took his son from her arms. Taking him to the crib, he checked the diaper and grimaced at the brown sludge inside. André undid the diaper and got a chest full of urine as the stream arced from the baby. Sam cooed and kicked his legs.
“Ah, come on,” he said to his son, looking down at his soaked shirt.
Katrina burst out laughing until tears squeezed out of the corner of her eyes. She held her stomach in obvious discomfort, but the hilarity of the situation struck a chord and she couldn’t stop laughing.
Chuckling, he finished changing Sam and then stripped his wet shirt, dropping it on the floor and using a couple of baby wipes to clean his hands, chest and stomach.
Her laughter stopped the moment his shirt peeled over his head and he shot a glance in her direction and picked up Sam.
She was on her feet, approaching him with that hungry look.
The one she used to give him at the house.
The one that set his blood boiling in his veins, throbbing through his skin.
The one that drove him over the edge and this time was no different.
“Oh no, you don’t. The doctor said six weeks.”
She didn’t stop, closing the distance within seconds, faster than she should have been able to move under the circumstances. She reached him, running her fingers over the front of his pants.
“Kat.” He chuckled and stepped away, his eyes burning and he knew they went full-fledged iridescent, maybe even laser red.
Katrina stepped closer. “I want you,” she whispered.
André sidestepped away from her. “You can’t have me right now. Besi
des, not in front of the baby.”
“Ah, but you want me.”
“Damn straight. But I can’t have you for the next month or so.” He licked his lips and tilted his head a bit. “When I do...baby, when I do, I want to hear you in the next county,” he drawled, his voice low and sultry as the urge to throw caution to the wind almost engulfed him. He looked down at his son and raised only his eyes back to meet his wife’s before handing her their son and disappearing into the bathroom. He flipped the lock. There would be no telling his libido to shut down if she cornered him in the shower, no matter what the water temperature.
He dialed the shower to the coldest setting and stripped; stepping inside, the sting of the freezing water nearly ripped a yelp from his chest. He forced himself to stand under the icy spray until shivering and no longer teetering on tearing her clothes off. He turned off the water and looked up at the ceiling. Lord, please give me the strength to obey the doctor’s orders.
Katrina waited outside the bathroom with Sam in her arms and when the door opened, she handed the baby to André and slipped inside without a word, grabbing the bag with her clothing before she shut the door behind her.
“Hey, little man.” He put his finger in the baby’s hand and Sam immediately grasped it.
Matthew knocked on the door, peering inside. “Good morning,” he said and stepped into the room. “Where’s Kat?”
“Shower.” André pointed with his chin. “Where’s Mom?”
“She’ll be in later. I figured I’d swing in on the way to work to say hello to my grandson.” He marched across the room and put his arms out for Sam.
André handed over his son. “What time is it?” he asked as his father pulled Sam to his chest.
“Almost eight,” Matthew replied.
“Shit, I have to go,” André said, looking at the bathroom door. “I’ve got an exam in less than an hour and I still need to swing home and change.”
“Go on, I’ll wait till Kat gets out.” Matthew smiled and settled into the chair his son just vacated.
