Find Me

by Laurelin Paige

  Right now, though, I couldn’t worry about JC. He had my eternity—at least, he did if he still wanted that when everything was resolved. This moment had to be about laying the groundwork for a possible lifelong connection with Chandler, whether or not JC still wanted to be part of it.

  Under the table, I tightened my fingers around JC’s. Then I gently slid my other hand out from beneath Chandler’s. “I’m fond of you, Chandler.” Beside me, I felt JC bristle. “But that’s all there is for us. If this baby is yours, I know you’ll be an excellent father. We will do everything we can to make sure you have every input you deserve in the upbringing. But JC is where my life is. Whether this baby is his or not. That isn’t going to change, no matter what the paternity test says.”

  Chandler’s expression fell. “Sure. I just had to say it while I had the chance.” He stood up. “I’ll go take that test now.” He was gone before I could even tell him thank you.

  ***

  We were silent on the drive home.

  I thought about my grocery list. And the wax appointment I needed before the wedding. And whether or not we should try to sell the car we were in since city driving was a bitch. I thought about anything and everything that wasn’t the baby growing inside me or Chandler’s proclamation or what JC must be thinking.

  At the condo, I headed to the bedroom, planning to hit the sack. I’d napped earlier, but I was tired now. So very, very tired.

  JC followed me. “I’ll pick up prenatal vitamins tonight,” he said, kicking off his shoes. “Do you think I should reschedule the painters? Maybe it’s not good for the baby to be around the fumes.”

  I stared at him in disbelief. He’d just found out our baby—the one that he wanted so badly—might not actually be his, just listened to another man declare his love for me, and he was concerned about paint fumes?

  JC misread my expression. “You know, the painters we have scheduled for the office? They could come while we’re in Santorini instead.”

  He was still thinking about our honeymoon. That should have made me feel better. Obviously, he still wanted to marry me, even if he wasn’t the father. Even if someone else loved me too.

  But as the wall of ice around me came down, it wasn’t relief I felt. It was anger.

  I was furious with myself. Furious with unreliable contraception. Furious with my body. Most of all, unreasonable as it was, I was furious with JC. Not only because he’d left me alone for long enough to look for sexual satisfaction elsewhere, but also because he seemed to be perfectly okay with the fact that I had.

  “What is wrong with you?” I asked, not hiding my rage.

  His expression said he was confused by the question, but it seemed to ignore my temperament. “What do you mean?”

  I repeated myself, even more forcefully. “I mean, what’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you upset?” I was bordering on distraught, and he was coolly going on with his routine, as if our entire world hadn’t just changed dramatically.

  He shrugged then took off his jacket and draped it over the end of the bed. “I guess I don’t think there’s anything to be upset about.”

  My face morphed into cruel disbelief. “Your fiancée might be pregnant with another man’s baby, another man who tried to win me over in front of you, and you don’t think there’s anything to be upset about?”

  “You weren’t my fiancée when you got pregnant. If it’s not mine, I mean.” He turned away to unbutton his shirt, the only indication that he might be affected.

  I circled around him, forcing his attention on me directly. “But you weren’t with anyone that whole time we were apart. And I was. That doesn’t bother you?”

  He paused undressing and let out a huff of frustrated air. “We’ve been over this, Gwen. I knew I was coming back. You didn’t. I can’t hold a grudge about anything you did while I was gone.” He brushed past me, headed toward his closet.

  “Hold a grudge?” If he’d been with someone else, I would have been hurt, devastated, jealous as hell. A grudge would not have even come close to describing how I would have felt.

  He spun around to face me. “What is it you want me to say? Because obviously I’m not saying the right thing.” There was more energy in his tone now, but it was exasperation, which wasn’t at all what I was looking for.

  “I want you to say it bothers you.” I was practically yelling. “I want you to say that you’re mad.”

  “At you?”

  “Yes!” I exclaimed. “Why don’t you hate me? You should hate that my relationship with Chandler might have ruined the rest of our lives.”

  He softened, coming toward me, his hands outstretched. “A baby isn’t going to ruin our lives.”

  I brushed him away. I didn’t want compassion. I kept on, trying to get what I did want from him. “We’ll be tied to him. Forever. He’ll want visitation rights and to have a say in where we put the kid in school. He might even want to be in the delivery room.”

  “Then we’ll deal with that.”

  I stepped forward, ready to go to the worst place in order to provoke him. “He was inside me, JC.” I didn’t even flinch as I said it. “I let him put his cock inside me—inside the body that you say you own. Let him kiss my mouth and touch my breasts and stroke my pussy. And that doesn’t bother you?”

  “Yes!” He exploded. At last. “It bothers me! Is that what you want?” He didn’t wait for me to respond, knowing that it was exactly what I wanted. “It makes me crazy with jealousy. He touched you in places that I thought no other man would be after me. And, yes,” his tone grew gruff, textured with contempt. “I hate him. I loathe him. I’d kill him if I could. Rip his balls out with my teeth and cut off his dick and then I’d fucking kill him.”

  I winced ever so slightly, only because I’d never seen JC so passionate, not because I was actually scared that he’d hurt anyone.

  “But if I did anything to him,” he continued, his volume lower but with just as much force, “I’d lose you. I’d be thrown in jail and where would that put me? Huh? Instead, I do the only thing I can—I love you. All of you. Every damn square inch. Every part of you he ever had, because I know, that whatever he thinks he feels for you, I love you better.” He jabbed a single finger into his chest for emphasis as he said the last part.

  “So you want me to hate you?” His expression seemed baffled. “I can’t do that, Gwen. Because then he wins. And I won’t lose you again.”

  I was speechless. And blown away.

  Weakly, I sank down on the bench next to the window. JC slumped onto the bed across from me, apparently equally drained. His words had cut through me, slicing away preconceived notions and replacing them with understanding. He was upset about my time with Chandler—how could he not be? He was just handling it in his own way, in a productive way, turning his hatred into love. I should have known. I’d often sensed his resentment during sex when he got possessive and dominating. I’d also always been able to feel his love. They just weren’t separate as I’d always assumed—they were tied together, one dependent on the other.

  And now I felt shitty for pushing him.

  But I also was glad to know.

  We sat quietly for several minutes, neither of us looking at each other, both of us processing the situation in its raw form. It felt like we were carrying an egg, each of us handling it with fragility, afraid that we would break it. Then finding out it had been hard-boiled the whole time.

  This wasn’t going to break us. If we turned the pain into loving each other, we would only get stronger. It was a good lesson to learn.

  “I was lucky to get you back,” JC said finally, softly. “I lost you to him for a moment. It could have been forever.”

  My head shot up to look at him. He was completely genuine, and I understood something else now too. That every day while I wrestled with my doubts and concerns, JC did as well. His were much heavier to carry than mine, I realized. I was only afraid he would be happier with a ghost. He was afraid that I would be happier
with a man who was still in my life.

  Now possibly more than ever.

  We still had so much to learn about each other. At least we already had love on our side. Or we did if I didn’t keep pushing it away.

  “He didn’t ever have all of me,” I said as quietly and sincerely as he had. “He never had my heart.”

  He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I know.”

  Even if JC didn’t hold a grudge, I would always regret that I’d ever been with someone else when I’d still been in love with him. I’d never thought there could be lasting repercussions from it. Never stopped to consider, what if…

  I raked my teeth along my lower lip. “If you can’t, do you mind if I hate myself?”

  “Yes,” he said sternly. “I mind that a lot.”

  I leaned back against the window and cast my eyes to the ceiling. Then I said the words that were the real heart of my pain, the source of my attack in the first place. “I can’t do this if it’s not yours, JC.” My voice cracked, and immediately he was kneeling in front of me.

  He put both of his hands on top of mine. “You can. We can. Together we can do anything, and trust me, this is not the worst thing that could happen to us.”

  I nodded, my throat tight. I swallowed hard, then managed to whisper, “I’m so sorry.”

  “I know.” He stroked his hand up my arm, gently. The sweetest caress. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry I put you in a situation where you felt you had to stop living to be loyal. I’m sorry that I wasn’t here sooner.”

  I didn’t care anymore about what had happened in the past. My only concern was our future. “You’ll stay with me? Even if…?”

  He didn’t hesitate. “Yes. No matter what. You’re mine.” He leaned forward and kissed my stomach. “And you’re mine.”

  I melted. Or collapsed. Maybe a little of both. I was so moved that he wanted this child no matter what, but I was also devastated that it might not be his.

  He rested his head on my lap, and I pulled my hand out from under his to run it through his hair. “We’ll have another one, JC. I promise.”

  He turned his head so that he could look at me. “If we do, that would be as amazing as this one. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?”

  Hadn’t those been my words earlier? Mine had been based in fear, though. His were based in the utmost affection.

  I slid off the bench to kneel in front of him. “I love you,” I murmured, my hands cupping his face. “I love you so much. So much.”

  Then he was saying it too, pausing now and then to kiss me. The depth of feeling I had for this man—it consumed me. Filled me up so full that I didn’t know how I ever found room for apprehension. Completed me so entirely that I was sure he could never understand.

  Still, I wanted to try to show him.

  Our kisses grew more urgent, and I finished unbuttoning his shirt. But before he could remove mine, I pulled back, drawing his eyes to mine. “There’s another part of me he never had.”

  He paused, but I knew he understood what I was saying. “I’m not…you don’t have to do that.” He reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it up and off.

  “I want to,” I said when my head was free. “I want to give you that. I want to give you every single part of me, including that.”

  He was the one to pull back this time. “Okay,” he said after a beat. “I’ll look forward to it.” He wound his hand in my hair and brought his mouth to hover just above mine. “You should too. I promise you’ll like it.”

  The heat in his tone made a delicious chill run down my spine.

  But I shook my head.

  His hand dropped. “I’m not going to make it a punishment.”

  “No, that’s not what I was getting at.” Although… I pushed the thought away. “I mean, now. I want you to take me that way now.”

  He wasn’t sure. “Gwen...”

  “Please.” I ran my hands down the toned planes of his bare chest, the feel of his skin beneath my fingertips sending an electric buzz to my core. I was so turned on, so affected by everything that had transpired between us, and I was desperate for the significance of it all to be translated into a physical connection. One that was unique and meaningful in a way that no other time we’d made love had been.

  And if the baby inside me wasn’t his, at least I’d know that every other part of me was.

  “Please,” I said again. “I need you to. I need you to show me that you own me.”

  My statement affected him. His eyes darkened and his breathing grew heavier. “You need me to show you that I own you?” His voice was coarse, and I knew with certainty that he’d moved from considering to deciding. “If you even have to make that statement, then, yes, you need me to show you.”

  He stood abruptly. “Get up,” he commanded, assuming the role we both loved so much. “Take off your clothes and lean over the bed, ass up.”

  He turned away from me, confident that I’d do what he’d said. My legs were unsteady as I stood to undress. I wanted this and was shaking from anticipation, but also, I was nervous. We’d used toys. He’d used his finger, and I’d loved it each and every time. But his cock was much bigger than my butt plug. The thought of how much bigger almost paralyzed me.

  Almost.

  It also made me delirious with arousal.

  When I was naked, I went to the bed and got in position. I couldn’t see what he was doing from here, but he’d been at the nightstand, getting lube, I imagined. Then I could hear the clank of his belt and the purr of his zipper. Soon, my legs radiated with heat, and I knew he was behind me.

  Gently, he placed his palms on my ass cheeks and ran them up my body to my shoulders and back down. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He said it so quietly that I guessed it was a comment for himself rather than me. Stronger, he said, “Relax, Gwen.”

  He repeated the path of his hands, pressing harder now, coaxing my muscles to loosen. I forced myself to take deep, calming breaths, a challenge considering how wound up I was with want and anxiety. After a few minutes, though, I felt the knot in my shoulders ease, even as the tension in my core tightened.

  JC must have noticed a change in my posture, shifting his attention from my back to the space between my legs. His fingers slid easily into my hole. “You’re soaked,” he said in awe. “You have no clue how much that turns me on.”

  I did, in fact, have a clue. A hard, thick one that was now shoving inside my cunt. He grunted as he settled in deeper before adopting a leisurely pace with his thrusts.

  “Yes,” I moaned. He felt good. I always loved him from behind, and his slow tempo teased and taunted, spurring me to beg for more.

  “JC. I want. Please.” I wasn’t even sure what I wanted anymore. All I knew was that he would give it to me.

  And he did. Without saying a word, I heard the click of a bottle opening, and a moment later, the cold tip of a toy was at my ass.

  “You know how this goes. Bear down while I push in.”

  A moment of clarity burst through my lust-filled haze. “I need you, JC.” He’d already been the only person I’d ever used a plug with, but I wanted all of him. Wanted him to mark me and make me his with his cock.

  “I know what you need.” He seemed irritated. “Right now you need to let me be in charge. Now. Bear down.” He didn’t wait for me to agree, pushing the plug in until it was firmly fitted inside me.

  Immediately, I began the climb to climax. The penetration from the plug while he was inside me tightened my pussy around him. Made each stroke rub against my walls, hitting every nerve ending.

  “I’m going to come,” I warned, already half there. I’d be all the way there if I weren’t trying so hard to wait.

  “Go ahead. You need to come before I go on.” As if he didn’t believe that I’d give in so easily, he reached around and found my clit.

  It was too much to fight against. My orgasm erupted, spilling over his cock in a wet gush of heat.

  He pulled both
his cock and the plug out the instant I went over the edge, and even in my bliss, I could sense he’d moved away from me completely.

  “Come over here,” he ordered.

  I stood, blinking, still not recovered. I turned to find he was now sitting on the armchair, his erection pointing boldly out from him, calling me to him as strongly as his voice had.

  He had the lube, and he applied a generous amount to his cock as I stumbled over to him. “Crawl in my lap. You can take me at your own pace.”

  He was making this sweet and intimate. Trying to take away all the fear by putting me in control.

  Except my fear never really went away unless he held the reins.

  “JC. This isn’t—”

  He grabbed my arm and roughly pulled me to him. “You need to stop questioning everything I’m doing, Gwen. This is going to require all your trust, and if you can’t give it to me then we need to do this another time.”

  “No.” I was already climbing up to straddle him, afraid he’d stop it if I hesitated at all. “I trust you.” I was on my knees, hovering above him.

  “Good.” He kissed me, savagely. His tongue plunging deeper into my mouth than ever before. When he broke away, I was panting. “Now sit back.”

  I leaned back and felt his head at my back entrance. He didn’t need to tell me to take a deep breath, but he did anyway, reminding me again to bear down. Slowly, I pushed down. He felt big, so big, and when he reached my snug rim, I was sure he was too big, and that I’d have to stop from the pain.

  But I slid down just a little more and his crown passed the tight part, and suddenly the pain turned into something else—incredible, breathtaking pleasure that I’d never felt before. So intense that my vision had spots in it, and I hadn’t even taken him to the hilt yet.

  “Ahhhh.” The sound fell from my lips, half sigh, half whimper.

  “Are you okay?” JC’s voice was strained, and I knew it was taking everything he had not to thrust.

  “Mmhmm.” I’d stilled, letting my body adjust to him before sitting on him completely. I didn’t know if I could sit on him completely. Before I’d been unsure if I could put the whole of him inside me because of the pain, but now I wasn’t sure because of the pleasure.