by R B Hilliard
As I stepped out from the curtained area, Kurt held out his hand. I took it and my eyes welled again. Quietly, we walked hand and hand across the hall into Dr. Cooper’s office.
“Do you want the good news or the bad?” she asked.
“Bad,” Kurt blurted, “definitely the bad.”
“I want you to abstain from sex for the next four weeks,” she said.
“That’s it?” Kurt asked, when she didn’t elaborate.
“I will take blood work today to make sure your levels are okay, but everything looks good. I want you to rest and stay off of your feet as much as possible. The spotting doesn’t bother me. To be honest, neither does the sex. I just want us to do everything we can to keep this baby where it should be, growing and thriving. We’ll take another look at the twelve week visit. If your bleeding has subsided and your numbers remain where they should be, you should be able to resume regular activities.”
I placed my hands on my stomach. “So, I’m not losing it?”
“As of right now, no,” she replied. She followed it with, “However, anything can happen. Let’s try and make sure it doesn’t.”
With that, I broke into a snotty, sobbing mess.
Kurt squeezed my hand and asked a hundred more questions while I cried. Dr. Cooper kindly answered every last one of them. When we were ready to go, she gave us some pictures of the baby. I gave her a big hug and profusely thanked her. On the way home we discussed whether the baby looked more like a peanut or a butter bean. Over dinner, we settled on butter bean.
* * *
Three days later
DR. COOPER’S ABSTINENCE warning was a kill switch to my husband’s libido. He still rubbed my sore back and feet every day, but he no longer kissed me every chance he got. He no longer made crass references to wanting or needing my body. He no longer asked me to massage his package. I was not so lucky. Once I’d taken a bite from that damned forbidden apple, I wanted more. When I wasn’t feeling nauseated or running to the bathroom to throw up, I focused on my husband. Watching Kurt was better than any book or television show. He was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. The way his shirt stretched across his lean, hard muscles made my mouth water. His blue eyes that changed color with his moods were mesmerizing and his jeans…Gah…they fit his ass so nicely. Don’t even get me started on what lay beneath his zipper.
Four days after our appointment, Max and Ellie had a cookout at MMG. I wanted, no, I needed to go. The doctor called that morning with good news. My levels were good. Before hanging up, we made my twelve week appointment. She reiterated several times, no sexual intercourse and as much rest as possible for the next four weeks. I could take it easy with my friends just as easily as I could in the comfort of my own home. Kurt and I agreed not to confirm I was pregnant until after my next appointment. After this week we only had three more weeks to go. I wasn’t sure I could make it three more days, much less weeks.
Kurt managed to get Dillon to cover his shift at Dragonfly, so he could drive me to MMG. As we rounded the motorcycle bays to the back of the garage, where the party was being held, Country music accosted us. I immediately spotted Ellie and Piper across the patio. They were talking to some regulars from Dragonfly.
Kurt gave me a chaste kiss on the side of my head and said, “Let’s get you situated.” He walked me over to the girls and made sure I was settled into a seat before he headed over to the guys. I watched my man’s ass as he walked away and sighed.
“You okay?” Ellie asked.
I unglued my gaze from Kurt’s ass long enough to notice everyone staring at me. I scowled at them. “What?”
“Someone’s in a bad mood,” Piper muttered. I rolled my eyes and she launched into a discussion about wanting to get a pet.
An hour later, I had officially decided being pregnant was highly overrated. So what if I could eat anything I wanted. I did that anyway. I was stone cold sober, horny as hell and my husband was ignoring me. So far, the thrill of the evening had been watching everyone scurry to keep Dillon’s friend, Isabella, away from Dana. This, and seeing several of the bar bimbos get rejected when they hit on one of the guys, was mildly entertaining.
“Dillon just showed up and is frog marching Dana out of here. Let’s go eavesdrop,” Piper said. I searched around for Kurt, but he was nowhere to be seen. Good. Quickly, I stood and followed Ellie and Piper out to the parking lot. When we got there, Dillon was already heading back in. “Damn,” Piper muttered. As we met up with Dillon in the parking lot, I realized I had to pee.
“You guys go ahead. I’m going to hit the bathroom,” I told them. Not missing a beat, they kept going and I headed for the front of the building. The front walkway was well lit, but everything surrounding it was cast in shadows. As I got closer to the entrance, I noticed someone standing near the front door. I could barely make out their shadowed form against the backlit wall. As I advanced, the shadow stepped back and revealed a second smaller shadow. Crap! Not wanting to interrupt, I pressed my back against the wall and considered how badly I had to pee. Shit, I had to seriously go.
Maybe I can sneak around them?
I pushed off the wall and moved a little closer. The sound of a woman crying stopped my forward progress and I quickly retreated back against the wall. Great, I’m about to interrupt a lover’s spat. Suddenly, the smaller shadow launched away from the larger one and started in my direction. As it neared where I was hiding, I held my breath and recognized one of the Dragonfly bimbo’s from earlier as she stormed past. She was crying hysterically. Once she was out of sight, I released my breath and slumped against the wall. Finally, I can pee. Once again, I pushed off the wall and made my way to the front doors. Before barging around the corner and possibly running into the larger shadow, I peered around the corner to make sure the coast was all clear. This was the most excitement I’d had all night. I wonder which of the bad boys made her cry. I bet it was Bobby or maybe Tut. Tut has heart break written all over him. I crinkled my nose at the thought of it being Cas. He is such an ass.
The last thing I expected to find was my husband.
Chapter Three
Ellie
‡
MY HUSBAND IS so frustrating. Piper and Dillon stopped by the house for a surprise visit this afternoon. It turned into a late lunch, which was nice because I hadn’t seen Piper much lately and missed her. Max is now off doing who knows what while Mac is upstairs napping and I clean up the kitchen…and think about what Dillon said about Max. Dillon told me to give it time. It has been almost six weeks. How much more time does he need? According to Piper, Max wasn’t the only one having trouble getting past what happened to us. Gage was too. If Piper and I can get past it, they sure as heck should be able to.
“I shouldn’t complain,” I muttered under my breath. After all, Max is the perfect father. I worried, at first, after everything I had been through, that Max might have issues bonding with Mac. I had no memories of Mac’s birth. In fact, I had no memory of anything after the guys showed up to rescue us. According to the doctors, the emotional trauma combined with me falling caused my placenta to tear. This resulted in profuse bleeding and me almost losing Mac. At first, I thought Max’s hesitancy to talk about what happened that day was because he didn’t want to upset me. I was beginning to think it was more…a lot more. Every time I brought up Dooley or the kidnapping, Max got angry with me. Instead of telling me what he was feeling, he would puff up like a toad and storm off. At Piper’s suggestion, I made an appointment with her psychologist, Dr. Parker, to talk about it. He helped me understand that Max may be traumatized in a different way than I was, and may need time to sort out his feelings. I’d been patient with him, but my patience was wearing thin. If anything, Max had become more distant. Now, I was just worried. Max had always been demonstrative in his love for me. Not only did he tell me how much he loved me all the time, but he showed me with his hands and mouth every chance he got. After being apart for so many years, I was convinced nothing…and I mean no-th
ing…could ever come between us again. Only, something had. My once, overly loving, very handsy man no longer touched me. Truth be told, he barely even looked at me. I lost all of my baby weight the first month after Mac was born. Recently, I’d started going to Pilates classes with Piper. I grew my hair longer, because Max loved it that way. I even purchased a butt-load of new lingerie for after my six week doctor visit. My appointment was two days away and I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was going to clear me. This meant, after six weeks of abstinence, we could have sex again. I should be jumping for joy and walking around on cloud nine. Instead, I felt anxious and scared that the love of my life, the only guy I had ever wanted, didn’t want me anymore.
* * *
Two days later
I DON’T KNOW why I didn’t tell Max about my appointment this morning. It’s not like I lied or anything. He didn’t ask, so I didn’t tell. Our housekeeper, Deloris, had the weekend off, so I asked Max to watch Mac because I had things to do with Piper to prepare for Reyn’s going away party. It wasn’t a lie. I did see Piper, but only to drop off some glitter stars left over from my baby shower. I did not, however, mention the doctor to her. I’m not sure why I haven’t confided in Piper. A part of me feels like if I give voice to my problems, it will make them more real. I also feel I would be betraying my marriage in some way. It sounds silly, but it’s true.
As I sat on the bench outside the doctor’s office after my appointment, I contemplated whether or not to go home just yet. As I’d predicted, the doctor had given me a clean bill of health. The tests were in my favor, so not only could Max and I have sex again, we could also have more children. Why did this feel like a hollow victory? Because my husband isn’t here celebrating with me. Maybe it doesn’t have to be. Maybe I should stop feeling sorry for myself, go home to my man, give him the good news… and seduce him.
On the way home, I planned it all in my head. Over the past two weeks, my sex drive had returned with a vengeance. All I could think about was Max’s hands and mouth all over me. It had been so long. I tried to recall the last time he had kissed me. Not just a peck, but a tongue-scorching-melt-my-panties-kiss. The morning of our kidnapping. My husband hadn’t intimately kissed me in over six weeks. How is this even possible? I shook my head in disbelief. Who cares? Today it changes.
As I pulled into the garage, I thought of a flaw in my plan. Mac. If Mac is awake, I won’t be able to seduce Max. Oh well. If he’s awake, I’ll postpone my plans until after the party tonight. I quietly entered the house, so not to wake the baby, in case he was sleeping. I didn’t have to go far as Max was lounging downstairs on the sofa. He had on his favorite Scooby Doo tee-shirt, the one that says “Where’s My Scooby Snack?” in big bold letters, and a pair of old sweat pants. The second he saw me, I smiled and asked how long Mac had been down.
“An hour or so,” he answered. His blue eyes warily watched me and my heart ached. I would do anything to take that look away. I walked to where he was sitting and plopped down onto his lap. I felt his body tense beneath me. Instead of running, like I wanted, I boldly grabbed both of his hands and wrapped them around my waist. He tensed again, and I wanted to scream. I forced myself to relax back into his body and couldn’t help but think about how good it felt to be close to him, even if he didn’t want it.
Twining our fingers together, I decided to play it cool. “Guess what I did today?
“What?” his deep voice reverberated through me. I closed my eyes and soaked it in.
“I went to see the doctor.” He stilled underneath me and I squeezed his hands. “She said I am clear. We can start having sex again.” Before I could say anything else, Max stood up, set me on my feet in front of the sofa and bolted for the bedroom. What in the world? Not sure what to do, I took off after him. The sound of my husband violently retching in the toilet made me freeze in my tracks. Several emotions erupted at once. The one that stuck was hurt. The realization that my own husband found the idea of having sex with me so repulsive he had to run to the bathroom…to vomit… was almost incomprehensible. The backs of my eyes stung. Should I check on him or not? The sound of the toilet flushing spurred me into action.
“Are you okay?” I asked, knocking on the bathroom door. I listened to him ramble about how he wasn’t feeling well. Finally, when I’d heard enough, I told him I hope he would be able to come to the party tonight. Before he could answer, I escaped from the room. As I passed by the stairs on the way to the garage, I heard Mac crying upstairs. A part of me wanted to run. Max could take care of Mac. In the end, my maternal instincts took over, and I headed up the stairs to my son. When I got to Mac’s room, I locked the door behind me. Then I walked over to the bookshelf where the monitor sat and turned it off. After a quick diaper change, I carried Mac over to the rocking chair. He was fussy, so I sat down to rock him. Finally, I let the tears fall.
* * *
Two weeks later
“YES PIPER, MAX, Mac and I are coming to Joss and Kurt’s on Sunday. Remember, Garrett and the guys want to talk to everyone.” I watched Max walk into the house carrying Mac. The boys had been in the back yard having guy-time when Piper called to remind me about the upcoming pool party. I took in Max’s windblown hair and chiseled features and sighed. My husband sure painted a pretty picture…one I was afraid to get close to, much less touch anymore.
A lot of crazy had taken place in the past two weeks. As it turns out, Dillon’s friend, Isabella, is actually more than a friend. He met her shortly before he met me, at which time, he unknowingly got her pregnant. As it was a one night stand, Isabella did not tell Dillon about the baby. However, that changed when her ex claimed the baby was his and decided he wanted paternity rights. This forced Isabella to come clean to Dillon and ask for a paternity test. By the time the test came back positive, Dillon had already screwed things up and Isabella had gone back to Charleston. Shockingly, Dillon stepped up and went after her. He brought both she and Amelia back to Charlotte to live with him.
“What was that about?” Max asked, as I hung up the phone.
“Piper is excited about this weekend. She was checking to make sure we weren’t going to bail.”
Max and I still hadn’t talked about what happened two weeks ago. I didn’t bring it up and neither did he. He also hadn’t touched me. At first I didn’t care. I didn’t want him to touch me. I was beyond hurt by his actions. Then, I started thinking about it. The more I thought, the angrier I got. Every night, we lay side by side in our bed, a bed where he once couldn’t get enough of me, and pretended everything was okay. Everything was far from okay. I know it was childish and petty, but with my anger came a need to fight back. I needed for my husband to see me as a sexy, desirable woman, again. So, one night last week, while standing in my closet, I noticed the bag full of lingerie I had purchased. Sucking in a deep breath, I slid off my tee-shirt and shorts and slipped into a peach bustier and boy short getup. I stared at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t able to breast feed Mac any longer, which saddened me. However, when I lost the baby weight, my breasts hadn’t gone with it. They were huge. The Pilates and toning made my body look better than ever, something Max would know if he bothered to look. I pulled the ponytail holder from my hair and twisted it back up into a messy, sexy bun on top of my head. Then, casually, I strolled out into the bedroom. The look of pure lust on Max’s face when he saw what I was wearing, confirmed he still wanted me. I slid into bed next to him and waited for him to jump me.
When he turned off the light and muttered a low, “Night,” my heart broke in two.
For the next five days, I proceeded to torture my husband. Each night, I picked a new outfit. A few times, I stood in the closet and held my hand over my mouth to muffle the hysterical laughter that threatened to break free. Some of the outfits were downright raunchy. How I kept a straight face, while prancing around so skimpily clad in his presence, I will never know. I knew my husband still wanted me. It was impossible for him to hide his physical response to me. In fact, t
he only validation I received from him was his hard cock. The first two nights of project Win-Max-Back, neither of us got a wink of sleep. The third night, after what seemed like forever, I felt him slip out of bed. When I heard the bathroom door click shut, I tiptoed across the room and placed my ear against it. Tears welled as I listened to the sound of my husband masturbating. I wanted to open that door and take over. I wanted to cry. I wanted to give up. Instead, I crawled back into bed and, finally, drifted into a fitful sleep. Last night was more of the same. He waited until he thought I was asleep, before slipping into the bathroom and jacking off. It killed me, but it also gave me hope.
With tonight’s dinner of burgers and grilled corn, we each had a few beers. That’s another thing that had changed since that day. Max hadn’t been drinking as much, at least, not in my presence. Tonight, he seemed slightly more relaxed, which was good because it was my final night of torture. Not only was I a walking zombie from lack of sleep, but I was fresh out of slutty outfits.
After putting Mac to bed, I headed for the bathroom, where I brushed my hair and teeth. As I strolled into my closet, I peeked out the door at Max. He was wearing a pair of royal blue boxer briefs that fit him like a glove. Watching him do something as simple as walk across the room had me all hot and bothered. The man rocked those briefs like no other. I seriously need to get laid.
I’d saved the best outfit for last and, had to admit, it was a doozy. As I pulled on the hooker red stretchy number, I realized it was completely see through. With a shrug, I smoothed it over my hips and smothered a giggle. My boobs were practically sewn into this baby. One wrong move and I would literally blow my top. I didn’t bother to put on panties because they would ruin the overall point I was trying to make. When I finally got the nerve to leave the closet, the bedroom lights were already out. So he’s going to play it this way, I thought, as I made my way over to the bed. Slowly, I slid in next to him and waited. After a few minutes of nothing, I rolled on my side to face him. Still nothing. I slid closer and waited for him to jump from the bed. When he inhaled a deep breath of air and released it, I realized he was asleep. Shit! What do I do now?
