Caramel Beach (Lessons in Pure Life Book 2)
Page 11
“You’re going to look all wrinkly and everyone will know what you’ve been up to.”
“They’ll be jealous.” Jack kisses my neck, which sends shivers up and down my body, goose bumps appearing everywhere. I catch sight of my watch and realize we need to speed things along if I’m going to make it back to the office in time for my senior staff meeting. I get Jack to roll over and I straddle him, running my hands over his chest. We move together and Jack utters a low groan.
“Wait baby, let me get you going,” he breathes into my ear. I pause, trying to find the sexiest way to say, “I just need your swimmers; don’t worry about me.” These encounters have little to do with me and my pleasure – god, how sad is that? I curse the friends who never told me how unromantic trying to have a baby really is.
“I’m almost there. Let’s come together.” I cross my fingers – a leftover superstition from my childhood – and lie. The safest route is just to fake it.
“Oh god, here I come,” he says through clenched teeth. I put on an orgasm imitation that would do Meg Ryan proud and match in stride. At that very moment, our bedroom door opens and we hear a shriek.
Is that–? No. It couldn’t be.
I hear another scream and realize this time it’s me.
“Mom, what the hell are you doing here?” Jack barks as we both fumble helplessly for the sheets that are knotted underneath us to cover our nakedness – well, Jack’s nakedness and my crotch-less black teddy.
“Oh my, I’m sorry,” Marilyn stammers.
“Mom, get out,” Jack screams as his mom hurriedly closes the door. He leaps up, grabs his clothes, and starts to put them on, while I pull the sheet over my head and curl into the fetal position. Part of me wants to laugh, but the other part is furious with Marilyn for intruding in our home.
“Abbs, I’m so sorry.” Jack is stomping into his black pants, the waves of anger and embarrassment radiating off his body.
“Why is she here? How the hell did she get in? Did you give her a key?” I pull the sheet down and sit up. The urge to laugh is gone. My mind plays a movie of all of the meddling and interfering Marilyn has done over the years. “Please tell me you didn’t give her a key?” Jack’s silence gives me the answer.
“Abby, she’s my mom. I’m all she’s got.” Jack tucks in his shirt, which is totally rumpled, and shoots me a pathetic look. “I’ll just go and see if she’s okay.” He heads for the door.
Oh sure, I think; go see if she’s okay. Make sure she’s fine after she broke into our house and walked in on us. I cringe, the humiliation building to the sort of climax I wish I’d had a few minutes earlier. I shudder and lie back. Shoving a pillow under my butt to lift my pelvis, I put my legs in the air, feet pointing to the ceiling. On the bright side, I have Jack’s swimmers inside me. I squeeze my legs together for my allotted twenty minutes, close my eyes, and begin to chant.
“I will get pregnant, I will have a baby, I will be a mom.”
Oh wow. Can you imagine? Be very careful who you give your spare key to.
For more thrilling and humiliating moments in Abby and Jack’s adventures in procreation – including more run-ins with the MIL from h-e-l-l – you’ve gotta keep reading. We’d be happy to help you at TrystBooks.com/ms-conception.