“Must be the pregnancy glow,” Zoie said, seeming to read my mind. She nodded at my rounded baby bump and grinned.
“Is that a real thing?” I joked, wrinkling my nose.
I had heard about this ‘pregnancy glow,’ but I had assumed that it was just an excuse that pregnant women made up, to explain why a simple act like climbing a flight of stairs or tugging on a pair of non-maternity jeans was enough to leave us flush in the face and dripping with sweat.
“Oh my God, it’s totally a thing!” Zoie gushed. “Look at yourself!”
I glanced up at my reflection again. Besides the natural dusting of pink that filled my cheeks, my skin looked smooth and dewy. The mirror’s white lights were reflected in a milky sheen on my forehead and along the ridge of my nose. My bare face did seem to be glowing, and I had to admit: my complexion hadn’t looked this good in years.
“If you could find a way to bottle that up and sell it, you’d be a gazillionaire,” Zoie insisted admiringly. “And I’d be your first customer!”
“Well, in the meantime,” I said, turning back to the NARS compact in my hand, “How about Orgasm?”
That was the name of the blush: a shimmery peachy-pink shade.
“I’ll take what I can get,” Zoie grinned and shrugged. She sucked in her cheeks to accentuate her cheekbones, and I made soft feathery strokes with the brush to apply the blush.
“So how far along are you?” she asked, nodding at my baby bump.
“Just hit six months,” I sighed as my hand traced my protruding stomach absently. I felt like I should be further along than that by now: I looked like I was waddling around with a watermelon stuffed under the front of my shirt.
“That’s sooooo exciting! Have you picked out a name yet?”
“Not yet.”
The other day, Josh and I had flipped through a copy of 100,000 Baby Names with a pair of highlighter pens. I had drawn a hot pink streak over the names that stood out to me, while he had highlighted his favorites in bright blue ink. We had ended up with about a dozen names that we both liked, but none that we loved. Turns out, picking a name for a human you’ve never met before can be pretty daunting work...
“I bet it’s tricky,” Zoie nodded understandingly. “Are you having a boy or a girl?”
“Actually, we decided to keep that part a surprise,” I reached for the jar of Laura Mercier setting powder and selected another brush from my makeup toolbelt.
“Really?! Wow, I can’t imagine being that disciplined! Don’t you want to know?”
“I am getting pretty curious…” I admitted.
I had read that some women just got a ‘sense’ about whether they were carrying a boy or a girl. I kept waiting for my own premonition, but so far the only thing that I knew for certain was that my baby would be a black belt in karate by the time he or she was born. The constant kicks and jabs that I felt in my stomach were proof of that.
But besides the obvious, I hadn’t felt any strong inklings or suspicions. In fact, I’d probably have better luck guessing a winning combination of numbers for a lottery ticket, than guessing the gender of the baby growing inside of me…
“What about your boyfriend?” Zoie asked. I must have frowned when she said that, because she quickly added: “Sorry, I noticed that you weren’t wearing a wedding ring, so I just assumed…”
“Oh, umm…yeah,” I hesitated, wondering if I should clarify that the father of my unborn child wasn’t technically my boyfriend.
No way, I decided. What would be the point?
“He’s been really great,” I said. “He’s been super supportive and involved…I couldn’t ask for a better partner, really.”
After I said the words, I felt them sink in and I realized that I had meant it. Josh really had been supportive and involved…he really had been there for me, just like he promised he would be.
I felt my heart patter as a weird sensation swirled in my stomach, somewhere far too deep to be blamed on the baby moving around or practicing those karate kicks on my bladder…
“All set!” I chirped to Zoie, ignoring the fluttering feeling in my stomach. “Let’s get you to the soundstage!”
***
“Oh God, yesss…” I moaned as I pressed my body deeper into the deliciously soft white duvet, arching my back and stretching out my arms and legs in all directions.
After a long day of working on my feet, there were few things that felt better than collapsing onto a soft mattress covered in crisp, cool linens, and the king-sized bed in my room at The W Hotel fit that description to a T.
Since working my late-night TV gig in Manhattan meant that I would miss the last train of the night back to Hartford, the network had graciously paid to put me up at a hotel a few blocks away from the studio. And they had put me up in style, with a king-sized suite at a four-star hotel on Broadway.
Did I mention that my room also came with a king-sized bathtub?
I had perched my laptop on the edge of the bathtub so I could stream Zoie’s live interview on The Harvey Show while I soaked my weary limbs in warm bathwater. She looked beautiful on camera; the Orgasm blush had been a good choice.
When the bathwater went cold, I had toweled off and collapsed onto the bed, naked.
Pregnancy had given me a new appreciation for nudity; when clothes don’t fit anymore, the easiest solution is to stop wearing them. After my warm bath, I couldn’t bring myself to squeeze my oversized stomach and swollen breasts into a pair of pajamas. Besides: the feeling of expensive bed sheets on bare skin was too good to pass up…
In fact, the feeling was so good that I started to feel a hot tingle rise up between my legs.
I pressed my back flat against the bed and propped up my knees, assuming a position that immediately reminded me of how Josh and I had played a dirty game of ‘doctor’ in the exam room of my OB-GYN’s office.
The memory intensified the throbbing pangs of lust that were shooting through my body, and I trailed my fingers to the source: my pussy.
To say that I was ‘sexually frustrated’ would be an understatement. Even though Josh was always eager and willing to lend a helping hand in satiating my pregnancy ‘cravings’, we still hadn’t gone ‘all the way’ since that night at the wedding.
Sure, we had licked, sucked, kissed, and caressed…but for whatever reason, Josh seemed to draw the line at penetration. And even though his fingers and lips and tongue were more than enough to drive me wild and make my spine curl, I hadn’t forgotten how amazing it had felt to have him inside of me…
I was trying to recreate the way his hands had touched me when I heard my cell phone vibrate from the nightstand.
I yelped, startled, and quickly rolled up to reach for the phone. When I saw the name displayed on caller-ID, I nearly yelped again.
Josh?!
I slid my thumb across the screen to answer the call, then I held the phone up to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey you,” his smooth voice funneled into my ear from the phone’s speaker. The sound was so crystal clear, that it was almost like he was sitting right next to me, whispering into my ear…
My pussy tingled and I gulped.
“I just wanted to make sure you made it to your hotel safe and sound,” Josh said.
“I see,” I tried to resist the urge to smile, even though I knew he couldn’t see me anyways. “You’re checking up on me?”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he chuckled lightly. I could imagine his lips spreading into a nonchalant grin.
“Well I’m safe and sound,” I assured him, giving into my own dopey grin. I slowly eased myself back onto the pile of pillows, relaxing.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Josh replied.
The line went silent. Neither one of us said anything; neither one of us made an effort to end the call. The hotel room was quiet and dark, and Time Square glittered on the other side of a tall glass window.
“What about you?” I asked. “Are you tucked i
nto bed, safe and sound?”
My voice sounded unfamiliar: slow, low, husky…
“I am,” Josh confirmed, matching my tone with a low, gravelly whisper oh his own.
The sound of his voice made my pussy ache for his touch. I slid my own hand down and touched myself.
“It’s a Friday night,” I said, trying to hide the strain in my voice. “What are you doing in bed? Shouldn’t you be out at some bar, doing…” my voice trailed off.
“Doing…what?”
“Doing whatever it is that hot, single guys do on Friday nights,” I finished.
Why did I just say that?! I immediately cringed. Am I trying to get a reaction out of him? Am I trying to test him?!
“I think you have me confused with some other guy,” Josh said smoothly, without missing a beat. “That doesn’t sound like me. Actually, it’s technically past my bedtime, but I had to stay up late tonight…”
“Oh really? Why’s that?”
“I had to watch some late-night talk show on TV,” he said playfully. “This girl I like was doing the makeup for one of the guests, so I figured I should check it out…”
My heart swelled and I swallowed heavily as I felt my excitement dripping out from my sensitive mound. I slipped my fingers between my lips and--
“You’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” Josh said suddenly.
“Huh? What?!” I stammered, yanking my hand away. “No I’m not!”
“Yes, you are.” I could hear the cocky grin in his voice. “I can tell by the way you’re breathing.”
Shit. My cheeks burned red and I felt like burying my face in the pillows, even though I knew it wouldn’t accomplish anything.
Then, in a hot whisper, Josh added: “Don’t stop on my behalf, Pinky.”
“It’s not really the same,” I admitted. “On my own, I mean…”
I cringed again. Why did I admit that?!
“Tell me how you’re touching yourself,” he encouraged me. “Where are your fingers right now?”
Sparks fluttered through my skin and I felt myself start to relax again.
“Umm…” I hesitated, readjusting my grip on the phone as my other hand moved slowly back down towards my pussy. I had never done anything like this before, but I was too fucking horny to waste time on inhibitions…
“I’m so wet,” I breathed softly. “I can feel it dripping down my thighs…”
He grunted softly through the phone, and I wondered if he was touching himself, too.
“Tell me what you taste like.”
That caught me by surprise. My back stiffened and my eyes widened. Then I remembered how he had tasted me in the exam room, and I swept my fingers through the dewy moisture that clung to my inner thighs. I raised my fingers to my lips and tasted myself, the same way that he had tasted me…
“Sweet,” I told him.
“Like honey?”
I nodded silently, then I realized: “You’ve tasted me, but I’ve never tasted you…”
“You want to taste me?”
“Mhmm,” I nodded, arching my back as my insides twisted and turned.
“I want you in my mouth…on my tongue…” I pressed my fingers through my lips, imagining how I would milk him dry.
“Let’s not neglect that sweet little honey pot of yours, Pinky,” he reminded me. “Put your hand between your thighs.”
“Ok,” I murmured, losing my voice as my chest and lungs drowned in bliss.
“Do you feel your labia?”
“Yes…” my fingers caressed the velvety swollen skin.
“Pinch your lips,” he instructed me. “Then pull…”
“Pull?” I repeated.
“Trust me, Pinky,” he muttered, and now I was sure that he was touching himself, too. “Tug on those fucking lips of yours as hard as you can…”
I pinched my fingers around one of my labia and pulled down, stretching the skin. The nerves ignited and a hot pang roared through my entire pussy, forcing me to whimper.
“Good girl. Now your clitoris…”
I panted for breath as I slid my fingers up my anatomy. My clitoris was throbbing, hidden beneath the soft fold of my hood.
“Pinch,” Josh growled. He was getting close…and so was I. I pinched my fingers around the tiny pyramid of flesh.
“Pull.”
I obeyed, yanking the skin down with a sharp flick of my wrist. My hips bucked up and I yelped.
“Again.”
I repeated the motion and I felt like my heart and my head and my lungs were about to simultaneously explode…
“Now push your fingers under the hood…”
I slipped the edge of my middle finger underneath the soft skin…
“...and pinch that fucking clitoris. Pinch it the way my lips would, if I was there right now…”
My exposed clitoris was so sensitive that one tug was all it took. I bucked up on the bed and pressed my shoulders back into the pillow as I orgasmed.
“Josh! Oh…fuck, Josh!” I moaned into the phone. My voice mixed with his own string of grunts and pants and, even though we were over a hundred miles apart, we both came at the same time.
“Shit,” I murmured afterwards. “Can we do that again?”
“We will in a minute, Pinky,” he chuckled. “First, why don’t you tell me about your day?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN | JOSH
I pulled the folded ultrasound photograph out of my jeans pocket and gently smoothed out the creases in the paper. Ever since that day I joined Vanessa for her ultrasound appointment, I had been carrying that photo with me everywhere I went.
That’s right: I’m enough of a man to admit that I had developed a major soft spot for that little jelly bean-shaped tadpole that was growing in Vanessa’s womb. I had more than a soft spot, actually. I felt proud every time I looked at that photograph.
Of course I knew that it was way too early to feel proud of anything. All I had contributed thus far were a few deep thrusts, a hot load of microscopic swimmers, and a couple hundred bucks in baby supplies. Biology aside, I knew that I hadn’t earned the right to call myself a ‘dad’ just yet. That was an honor that would come later on. I had to earn that title.
DNA wasn’t enough to determine fatherhood, I had decided. Just look at my own father, for example. There was no disputing that he was my father; his name was on my birth certificate, and he was the man who had put a roof over my head and clothes on my back for eighteen years. I even had his dimpled chin and dark hair. But that didn’t make him a ‘dad.’
I had spent my entire childhood waiting for my father to become my ‘dad.’ I would have taken anything: any scrap of attention, any morsel of affection, any hint of love. I wanted fishing trips and family dinners and life lessons and afternoons spent under the hood of a car… But I never got any of that. I just got disappointed scowls and harsh reprimands.
I wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. I wasn’t going to be a deadbeat or a sperm donor or a vacant void in a family portrait. I was going to be a dad.
Step one: tell the truth.
I finished smoothing out the photograph, then I glanced up. I was in the firehouse locker room, standing in front of my cubby.
Tonight was a big night for me: tonight, all of the crew was getting together to celebrate my one-year anniversary with Firehouse 56. The poker table was already set up in the vehicle bay, pizzas had been ordered, and someone had even rented a keg in honor of the occasion.
The guys didn’t know it yet, but we’d be celebrating more than an anniversary. Tonight I planned on finally announcing that I was going to be a father.
I pushed aside the turnout gear that was hanging in my cubby, clearing a space on the red metal locker wall. Then, using a square of tape, I secured the ultrasound photo inside my cubby.
No more hiding after tonight. There it was: in plain sight, displayed for everyone to see. My baby.
“There you are!” a voice shouted from behind me. I spun around
and saw Brady standing in the doorway, grinning. “Why the hell are you moping up here, while the rest of us are throwing a party in your honor downstairs?!”
“I’m coming down now,” I said. “I was just…putting something away.”
I glanced back at my locker. My turnout gear had swung back into place, obscuring all but the edge of the ultrasound that I had tacked up on the metal cubby wall.
I waited for Brady to turn and leave, but instead he stepped into the locker room. He crossed his arms, leaning against an empty cubby opposite of me.
“Actually, I’m glad I caught you alone,” he said. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”
“What’s up?”
“I don’t want you to get pissed off, or think that I’m trying to steal your thunder,” Brady said. “I know it’s your big night, but…this is big news, and I wanted to make sure you heard it from me first.”
“So spit it out, Brady,” I rolled my eyes. “Come on. What could you possibly have to tell me, that could trump the whole ‘secret engagement’ debacle?”
What could you possibly have to tell me, that could trump my own big announcement? I added silently to myself.
Brady shrugged and nodded.
“Fair point,” he said. Then: “We’re having a baby.”
My face went numb. Actually, all of me went numb. My hands balled into fists and I felt my mouth go dry.
“You’re…what?”
“We’re having a baby,” Brady repeated. “Cassidy is pregnant. I’m going to be a daddy!”
My jaw clenched into a snarl. You don’t know the first thing about being a ‘daddy,’ I wanted to hiss, but I bit my tongue.
My eyes flashed back to the ultrasound taped up in my locker and my heart sank.
Whether I deserved to be or not, I was already so proud of that baby. Maybe Vanessa and I weren’t perfect…maybe we hadn’t conceived our child in the perfect circumstances, and maybe we weren’t the perfect little cookie-cutter family…but through it all, we had managed to make something perfect and beautiful: that baby.
The feeling of pride and love that I got when I looked at that ultrasound was what finally made me realize that I was ready to share the news. Even though I was scared shitless about telling the crew that I was going to be a father, I knew that once the truth was out there, I’d be so proud to show off the little sac of cells and doll-sized body parts that I had helped make.
February Burning: A Firefighter Secret Baby Romance Page 11
