“I was thinking… that… maybe I’d go and see a ballet. Soon.” I wasn’t sure where to look and ended up staring at our joined hands. “If you’d still go with me?”
“Already told you I would,” he answered. When I looked at him, he was still focusing on my belly. “Got a question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Can I rub her now and then?” His eyes traveled up and met mine. “If you’re okay with it.”
“I’m okay with it,” I said and moved his hand to my belly. He laid it flat over it and smiled. Parts of me were terrified, but mostly I thought he deserved it. “That’s your girl, after all, and if you’re going to carry around her tutus you should at least get to rub her a little.”
“I’m not gonna carry her tutu,” he said with a smile, still holding his hand on me, carefully stroking.
“I’ve seen you with kids, Mitch. Pretty sure she’ll be able to make you do anything she wants.”
He laughed and leaned forward to give my forehead a kiss. “Think you might be right. Don’t you dare tell her that, though.”
“She’ll figure it out. All girls do.” I took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah. I’m gonna go inside and hear more about all the pink shit I’m gonna have to buy. Let me know when I’m going to the ballet.”
I nodded and got into the car. Mel looked at me when I buckled up.
“All good?” she asked.
“Yeah. I just... He once told me he’d take me to the ballet when I was ready, and I think I’m ready.”
I’d been thinking about it the for last month. Somehow I’d landed in this… being a mom thing, and it had made me accept that I wasn’t a dancer anymore. So maybe I could be a mom instead. I wanted to see a ballet again, and I still wanted Mitch with me, since he was still the person who only knew me as Anna. I figured I could do it if he was with me. There was also some comfort in going with someone who didn’t actually like ballet. I wouldn’t have to talk about it with him, simply since he wouldn’t really understand anything about it.
“That sounds like a really good idea, Anna,” Mel said and started the car. “You know, even if you leave parts of your life behind you, it doesn’t mean you can’t love what you used to be.”
“I know. It’s just been a bit painful to love what I used to be, since I didn’t exactly choose to not be it anymore.” I looked down at Sprout and stroked her. “This is helping, though. Scared me when I found out, but I think this might help me find my place.”
“Kids do that,” she said with a laugh. “They can drive you insane, but they can really help you find your place, too. At least you have something real to fight for. I’m glad you’re letting Mitch and the rest of us in on this. Really glad.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked a bit surprised by the statement.
“Women do that for all kinds of reasons, or just try to hold the guy at arm’s length. But you’re really letting him in.”
“I like him, and I need him. I’ve seen him with kids, and I know what I’m like with kids. I panicked when he left me in a room with Joshua for five minutes. I really don’t know anything about kids. The only family I have is Irina, my mom, and my dad. The last two live in Spain. I’m going to need help. You’re all great with kids, love them. I can’t do this on my own, and this baby girl deserves a lot of love.”
“She’s gonna be fine,” Mel said and nodded with a smile. “We take care of family.”
I had noticed that, and it made me much calmer. My baby girl would be fine. She’d have loads of people looking out for her.
When I walked into the apartment, Irina met me in the hallway.
“And?” she asked me eagerly.
I took the picture out of my bag and held it up for her with a big smile.
“Here she is. My baby girl!”
“A girl!” Irina yelled and started crying.
I called my parents to give them the news as well and they started crying, too. My baby girl would be so loved. Actually, she already was loved.
-o0o-
After the ultrasound, we slipped into the habit of seeing each other every day, and if I had thought it was bad being in his presence before, it was nothing compared to what it was like to be around him when he was perfectly comfortable with touching me.
It was torture, and I was seriously starting to wonder if I shouldn’t just wear a maxi-pad to not… wet through my panties. The only relief had been when we’d had a massive argument over him eating up the sour jellybeans I kept in his truck.
Besides sex, I was craving sour jellybeans, and I’d been leaving them behind all over the place so I’d never be without them. He’d eaten the ones in the car, but I was pretty damn sure he wouldn’t try that again. I had yelled at him for the full ride to Mac and Violet’s place, and after Violet had chewed him out about the mortal sin of eating a pregnant woman’s stash, even Mac told him why that was insanely stupid. Actually, he used the f-word along with stupid and idiot. Mitch hadn’t touched my stash since, but he touched me.
“I’ve been thinking about a name,” I said.
We were at his place. I was nineteen weeks pregnant, and besides the sour jellybean cravings, I was doing well. The horniness really was the only problem. Extremely horny, and Mitch being annoyingly sexy didn’t help at all. I was wondering if he was doing something to be even more sexy than usual. Because it was insane, as if his hands were electrified, and I was seriously regretting saying that I was perfectly fine with him touching his kid even if it happened to be inside of me.
I was really happy about the vibrator I’d gotten from the sex shop, but toys weren’t the same as the real deal. That didn’t mean I didn’t make good use of it. Initially, I had been worried the vibrations might be bad for the kid, so I’d asked Lisa. For a while it had seemed like she’d never stop laughing.
But again, sex toys were called toys for a reason. It wasn’t the same, and I was considering asking Mitch to lie on top of me. I wanted to feel some weight on me, and that alone would probably be enough for me to come.
The night before I had been dreaming of him, and I climaxed in my sleep—as if I was a teenage boy having wet dreams. The thought of the dream alone had me soaking wet, and him next to me with his hand on me was agony. Bringing up the question about a name had been an attempt to get him to move away from me a little, and initially, it worked like a charm.
“And?” he asked and looked away from the TV. “Any ideas?”
“Russians give the middle name after the father, as a patronymic. My name is Petrovna. The -ovna is for ‘daughter’ and ‘Petr’ is my dad. So it’s ‘Petr’s daughter’ or ‘daughter of Petr.’ It wouldn’t really work with Mitch or Mitchell.”
“Mitchellovna. Not really,” he laughed.
“If a we make it a matronymic, it would be Annanovna, if that’s okay with you, as a second name.”
“I’m okay with that. Any ideas for the first name?”
I really wished he would take his hand off me, but instead he moved it underneath my t-shirt.
“Uhmm. Iskra?”
He started laughing and sat up, which meant he finally removed his hand from me completely, and I took a relieved breath.
“What? You’re serious? No!”
“It means spark. I think it’s nice.”
“Hey! I just agreed to my kid having the middle name Annanovna, so I’m gonna have some fucking say on what I’m gonna actually say when I talk to her.”
“Fine. What would you like her to be called? And if you pick a name ending with a ‘y’ we’re gonna have a bigger problem than when you ate my stash.”
He laughed. “I’m guessing you’re gonna want something Russian for that too?”
“Yeah. Olga,” I said and he stared at me, leaned forward, and grabbed my belly looking straight at me.
“My baby girl is not, I repeat, not gonna be named Olga. No matter what fucking ballet dancer that has that name.”
I lau
ghed. “No, she’s not. Ania, Alma, Natasha, or Vera then?”
“Alma,” he mumbled. “I like Alma.”
“Then for now, she’s Alma.”
“Gonna be ‘Sprout’ until she comes out. And we’re not telling anyone about the name!”
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Would you like something from your family? Your brother named his son after you.”
“Nah, he’ll get why we’re picking Russian names.”
He leaned down and fucking kissed my belly. Like, lips on skin kissed, and if I’d thought his hands felt electrified it was nothing, nothing, compared to his damn mouth. That maxi-pad would’ve been welcomed. I got up and pulled down my t-shirt.
“I need to get home.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m fine. I just need to get home.”
“Okay...” He stood up and grabbed his keys.
“I’ll take a cab. Finish the movie.”
“Hang on! What the fuck is going on with you? Do I smell bad or something?” He took a step towards me, and I shrugged back. “Anna, just fucking tell me what’s going on with you.”
“I’m… aroused. Okay? Like all the time, and you… touching me isn’t helping.”
“Aroused?” He stared at me, and that annoyingly sexy smile spread over his face. “You’re horny?”
“Yes, no need to look so damn smug about it. It’s normal when you’re entering the second trimester. A bumpy road turns me on when I’m on the bus. I’m extremely horny.”
“Extremely horny even?” he asked and took a step closer to me. He was so close and smelled so good. “You know…” And another step closer. “I can help you with that, Gimp.”
It was the first time since… since before Sprout he’d called me that. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything but watch him come closer, his lips closing in on mine, and when his hand cupped my cheek, I closed my eyes.
In a sigh, I opened my mouth when he kissed me. It was amazing, just like it had always been amazing with him, and I wrapped my arms around him. I held him close, his tongue was playing in my mouth, and when his thumb brushed my nipple I almost came. He leaned back, looking really pleased, and that was enough to snap me out of it.
“Stop!”
“What?” He looked confused. “You said you were horny.”
I started towards the door. “Just let me leave alone, Mitch. I can’t do this.”
“Anna?”
“No!” I yelled and spun around. “This is not okay. I don’t want to be your fuck buddy. I don’t want us to have casual sex until she’s born, or whatever the hell you had in mind. I don’t want any of that. And this, whatever you’re doing, is just confusing.”
I didn’t even wait to see what he was going to say, and in the cab on my way back home, I wondered if it meant he wouldn’t go with me to the ballet. I’d gotten us tickets that weekend, and I didn’t want to go alone. I honestly didn’t think I’d even be able to go alone.
When I got home, I brushed my teeth and went to bed, and it was the first night in weeks were I didn’t reach for my goody drawer. In an attempt to calm down, I lay down and stroked Sprout.
Alma.
I liked the name a lot. It was just one of the names I’d thrown out there, but the more I thought about it, the more I liked it. We hadn’t gotten to the last name, but I had a feeling he’d be pretty adamant about her having his last name, and I didn’t mind that. Alma Baxter. It had a nice ring to it. That’s when I felt it for the first time.
A kick.
I’d felt flutters before, but I hadn’t been sure if they were kicks or just gas. This time I was sure. It was a kick. I’d just felt Alma. I reached for the phone and texted to Mitch. ‘I felt Sprout move!’
He called me immediately.
“She moved?”
“Yes. A kick!” I laughed.
“That is so awesome. When can I feel that?”
“I don’t know. Probably not in a few weeks.”
“Fuck! Still, she moved. That’s something.”
“Mitch… I’m sorry.”
“Nah. Don’t be. I’m sorry, too.”
“So we’re okay?”
“Definitely okay, babe.”
“So we’re still going to the ballet?”
“Anna, I’ve told you I’d go. I’m not gonna skip it because you’re not putting out.”
“Putting out. Are we sixteen?”
“I know I am in some ways. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. And you should ask Lisa to take you to the sex shop. Sounds like you need it.”
I was still trying to come up with a good retort when he hung up on me.
I wasn’t sure how we had ended up in the habit of talking to or seeing each other each and every day. Not always for hours, but for a short while. I didn’t know how to handle it, and I had a feeling I wasn’t handling it very well at all.
The only thing I was sure of was that I was going ask Lisa to take me to the sex shop, and this time I wasn’t going to be bashful about it. I was gonna go bat shit crazy in there!
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I Don’t Have Dimples
-o0o-
Mitch watched Anna walk out of the sex shop and into Lisa’s car, and she was carrying a big, very full bag. He was dying to find out what she’d bought, but he didn’t think Lisa would be helpful when it came to that. He did, however, see the humor in Anna following his advice.
The argument—or whatever the fuck it was—about her being horny…? Yeah, he still wasn’t sure exactly what that argument had been about. Well, he sort of was, but he honestly thought her anger was completely uncalled for. He’d been trying to help, for fuck’s sake, and it wasn’t like he’d sacrifice himself to do it. The opposite—he’d have fucking loved to help her out, since he was horny as hell most of the time around her. Constantly touching her probably didn’t help, but he was dying to feel Sprout kick, and he liked being near her—near both of them.
“What’s on your mind?” Brick asked when he sat down next to him on the park bench outside the clubhouse.
He shrugged, but decided to take his shot to bring up something that had been bothering him. His dad wouldn’t mind. Brick might not agree, but he never minded if someone gave him their honest opinion. Also, it would keep them off the subject of Anna. Mitch was way too fucking confused about that part of his life to want to talk to his dad about it.
“Honestly, Dad, I’m having some concerns about the European stuff.”
“Been wondering when you’d grow the balls to tell me that. What’s the problem?”
He wasn’t surprised about Brick knowing he had doubts, but he was the kind of man who let you figure out what your problem was in peace.
“They seem like an unstable club. The American side seems cocky as fuck, and it feels like the European side is just humoring them to make sure they stay out of their business. If there are problems, we’re gonna end up in a pretty shitty spot.”
“I’ve thought about it, and I’ve talked to Carlos about it, too,” Brick said and lit his smoke. Carlos was their contact in the cartel. He wasn’t the head guy, but he was the one in charge of the operations that included the Marauders. “There’s a lot of money involved, and a lot of other perks the cartel really wants. He’s aware of the risks, but he also thinks it’s worth it.”
“But is it worth it to us? In the middle of a big club’s civil war and a cartel, we’re pretty fucking small and severely outnumbered,” Mitch pointed out. “And cartels aren’t really the kind of guys who hold back when they’re pissed. I know it’s probably too late to pull the plug now—”
“It is,” Brick nodded.
“But maybe we should try to…” he wasn’t sure how to say it.
“…look for other options,” his dad finished the sentence. “I know. I think you’ve gotten some new perspectives lately that are making you more careful, but I also think you have a point.”
“If that’s what you think, then why did we start this
to begin with?”
“Because it wasn’t my call alone. The rest of the clubs wants this. They want more money and something in store if we lose the pot business in the US. I can’t hold back alone with just this club. We’re one of the most important clubs, given our location, but we’re not alone. It’s not a done deal yet. I wanna see what the Dutch say about all of it, especially their situation with their US clubs.”
“Would that make a difference?”
“Yeah. Makes a huge fucking difference. It they admit there’s a rift, they’re not gonna pull any bigger stunts until they’re sure we and the cartel are behind them. If they’re smart, they know the importance of maintaining good relations with their business partners, because that’s how you stay afloat in a war. It puts us in a better position, and will at least give us a heads-up.”
Mitch shook his head. “Is there ever a time when you’re not way ahead in your plans about what can happen?”
“No,” Brick said with a smile. “If I’m not ahead, we’re all fucked. I need to be, and I got people like Bear to keep me focused. That’s the most important part of being a president, trusting the right people.”
He eyed his dad. “Are you grooming me?”
“Don’t let it get to your head, kid. I’m not done yet.”
“Fucking hope you’re not.”
He’d never thought about it, and quite frankly he’d never really wanted to be president. It wasn’t something that was handed down to the son—they weren’t kings. That shit was voted, and this was the first time his dad had even hinted about it. He looked at Brick—he was getting older. Not old, just older, and Mitch sure as shit hoped Brick didn’t expect him to want to take the gavel any time soon. He wasn’t even sure he liked the idea, but he didn’t dislike it as much as he would have if it had been brought up just a year or two earlier. And the second after that thought went through his head, he laughed.
“You fucker! You always know the right time to play your cards.”
“That’s why I have this,” he said and tapped the president patch on his chest. “Don’t worry about it.
Mitch shook his head. “Bet you already have the officers set up for me,” he chuckled.
Center of Gravity (Marauders Book 3) Page 26
