Summer of Love: The Billionaire's Baby (BWWM Pregnancy and Marriage Multicultural Love Story)

by Imani King

  "Fuck, Natasha."

  Blake's voice was thick and dark as he rocked his body against mine, tensing up in the few seconds before release and then burying himself inside me and holding himself there, filling me with his warmth.

  He groaned as he came, forcing me to brace my body against the railing and digging his fingers into my hips so hard I had a neat little arrangement of fingertip bruises there the next day that made me smile when I noticed them in the mirror.

  "Blake...oh..." I sucked my breath in shakily as the last few little flashes of orgasm closed my eyes and then I had to sit down at once when the weakness in my knees became immediately apparent. Blake did the same, sitting heavily down on another chair without even bothering to zip himself back up. His hair was mussed and his breath was coming hard and fast. I had a quick urge to kiss his sweet, flushed face but I resisted - partly from exhaustion and partly from the strange sensation of jolting back to reality.

  We sat there for five minutes, not speaking but not awkward, either, until I regained enough sense to give him some advice:

  "You should put that away - someone could come out here anytime."

  He shook his head, smiling and trying not entirely successfully to push himself back into his pants and tidy himself up.

  "Nah, no one's coming out here, they know to leave me to it."

  I let the comment sink in for a few seconds and Blake must have seen the dawning look of horror on my face.

  "What's wrong, Nat? Why do you suddenly look like you just realized you had sex with the hunchback of Notre-Dame?"

  Could I tell him what was wrong? I couldn't. It was too needy, too desperate. But the implication of his comment immediately had visions of all the other women he must have taken out onto this terrace sharpening agonizingly in my mind.

  "Nothing, I'm fine," I lied, looking down at my feet and pretending to be fussing with one of my shoes so I wouldn't have to face him.

  "No, fuck that. Tell me what's wrong. If I've done something, say it. I wouldn't brush you off like that."

  He actually sounded a little angry, which was confusing.

  "Alright. I guess I just didn't want to hear about the staff of this club knowing to leave you alone while you have sex with women on the terrace... five minutes after you've had sex with me on this terrace."

  "Oh, Nat. That isn't what I meant at all - I meant that they just know to leave me alone in general, unless I ask for something."

  He grinned at me then, continuing.

  "You're jealous, though, huh? For some reason that pleases me."

  "Oh shut up!" I shot back, laughing as heat rose up in my cheeks.

  Blake patted his lap and told me to "get over here" and, emotionally mushy from sex and a crush I knew was now going to soar to previously unknown levels of intensity, I did just that, cuddling into him and breathing in the smell of his neck.

  "Well? How do you feel? I hope you feel happy, Natasha."

  I did feel happy and I told him as much, but I also felt increasingly seized with anxiety knowing that now when I missed him I'd know exactly what it was I was missing.

  "Are you sure, you seem kind of...antsy. Was I terrible?"

  "Oh my God, no!" I chastised him, surprised a thought like that would even cross his mind.

  "Then what?"

  "Ugh, stop asking me questions! I don't feel like giving you a detailed list of my insecurities just yet, if you don't mind."

  "Fair enough," he answered, trailing his fingers up and down my arm and kissing my cheek.

  It was all so terribly wonderful. And I don't just mean the sex, I mean how sweet he was - how solicitous and genuinely invested he seemed in whether or not I felt happy about what had happened.

  My stomach sank at the realization that I was going to have to confess my moment of weakness to Rosa - there was no way I could keep it from her and the only real reason to do so would have been to spare me my own blushes. Which was ridiculous - Rosa isn't the type of friend to silently judge or look down on someone - if she thinks you're being a dumbass, she says it to your face, for better or for worse.

  "So," Blake whispered into my ear as we sat wrapped around each other on Foufonique's terrace, "Do you want to come back with me and spend the night? I'm staying at a hotel."

  I did want to spend the night with him - I wanted it so badly. I wanted to wake up in his arms and spend the morning making slow, indulgent love before lunch at a little cafe spent making googly eyes at each other. The fact that I wanted it so much was precisely the reason I couldn't allow myself to do it. The attraction between us was no longer in doubt, that much I knew. But Blake was still a married man and he hadn't said a thing to me about his plans or what more he wanted to happen between us, if anything.

  Some might call it insecurity but to me turning him down was simply the practical option. I'm not a person who is entirely comfortable with vulnerability in general and to be perfectly honest I was terrified to give Blake even a hint as to how I really felt about him - or how I suspected I might come to feel about him if we continued.

  "I don't think so," I replied, "Rosa, uh, I have plans with Rosa tomorrow morning."

  It was a blatant lie and Blake caught it at once.

  "Plans tomorrow morning - after a night out? Nat, if you don't want to stay the night just say so - I'm a big boy, I can take it."

  "OK," I started, cringing a little, "I guess I just don't think it would be a good idea. I can't just - I mean, Blake..." I was floundering. "I need some time to figure out how I feel, I suppose."

  "OK, gorgeous. That's all you had to say."

  So me and Rosa took a taxi back to our apartment that night and I went to sleep in my own bed, on my own lumpy mattress. Rosa didn't give me too much shit for what had happened - she even admitted she wouldn't have been able to hold out as long as I had. Nevertheless, I spent a good fifteen minutes lying in my bedroom in the dark with a head full of unrealistic fantasies starring Blake Charlton.

  Chapter 10: Blake

  Natasha had been, in her own polite way, clear that she didn't want me to read too much into our tryst at Foufonique. At least that was how I read her reluctance to come back to the hotel with me. I was torn between how goddamned hot it was - I couldn't even think about it days later in the middle of a meeting with Lisa without getting hard enough to require a strategically placed item of clothing to preserve my dignity - and being slightly embarrassed. My reputation isn't a mystery. Nat was too kind to bring it up, but she was obviously aware of it - everyone who lived in America and hadn't been living under a rock for the past fifteen years was. I wanted to send a text alluding to it, making sure Nat knew that what had happened between us hadn't been the old me - that in spite of the location and the impulsivity of the moment it was anything but casual. I even wrote out the text a few times, trying to strike just the right note between 'lighthearted' and 'trying way too hard to explain myself' but I couldn't get it right. I needed to speak to her in person.

  I caught myself one afternoon a couple of days later wondering if it was too early to call her and actually laughed out loud at the realization of what I was doing.

  Shit, man, you are acting like a teenager.

  So instead of calling Natasha I called my personal trainer and spent the afternoon hiking Runyon and lifting weights at the gym on my friend's property.

  Vanessa was still at Three Palms. She had clearly been instructed by her lawyer not to go anywhere. I was angry but it wasn't about the money - I have enough money to buy fifty Malibu beach houses - it was about the fact that I was being punished. I was being punished. Vanessa knew how attached I was to Three Palms - how it had become my sanctuary starting in my teen years and stretching all the way up to now and my mid-thirties. She could have stayed anywhere. I offered to put her up at the Chateau Marmont - which must have been particularly difficult for her to turn down, given the sheer number of contacts she could make just eating dinner there - but she refused. Barrington was adamant that I sa
y and do absolutely nothing to give anyone the impression that I felt hostility towards Vanessa - even though hostility was all I felt at the time. Basically, there was nothing I could do except sit back and wait for everything to play out in court. Vanessa was going to get a lot of money, but Barrington was pretty sure he could keep Three Palms secure for me. We did, after all, have hard evidence of her lying about her pregnancy.

  I lasted four days. Four days of hikes and lifting and more hiking and meetings and driving aimlessly up the coast and back again and just doing everything I could to get my mind off Natasha and my desperate need to see her again. Lisa, probably (sadly) the one person who knew me best, sensed something was up and questioned me repeatedly but I denied everything, mindful of the cheesy eighties slogan my father used to say to me before he took business meetings: never let them see you sweat. I'd taken it to heart. I was good at not letting people see me sweat. Most of the time.

  "Hello?"

  Her voice sounded cool but it was Natasha and just hearing her was enough to have me smiling like a fool.

  "Natasha! How are you doing?"

  "I'm fine, Blake, just busy with work and things."

  Her tone was standoffish. I'd called too early. It was too late to bail, though, so I pressed on.

  "Are you sure? You sound a little ticked off."

  There was a sigh from her end so I continued:

  "Do you want to have lunch? How about fish tacos again? I don't want to be boring but they'll close the place for me and it's just the safest option - you know, in terms of paps and everything."

  Another sigh. I could feel her weighing her options and silently willed her to say yes.

  "Come on, Nat. Let's just have lunch, no pressure - I'll send someone to pick you up."

  "OK, Blake. Lunch sounds good - but I'll get there myself. How about one o'clock?"

  I agreed to the time and then couldn't stop myself from showing up way too early. Pedro closed the place up as soon as I got there and I relaxed a little and sipped a fresh strawberry aqua fresca, my body humming in nervous anticipation of Natasha's arrival.

  When she finally got there and Pedro let her in I could see the same helpless smile that was spreading across my face doing exactly the same thing on hers.

  "Nat, er..."

  I got up and felt a sudden awkwardness at not knowing how to greet her. I went on for a kiss on the mouth but she turned her cheek to me and it ended up there.

  "Do you want tacos again?"

  "Oh my God, yes," she replied, smiling over at Pedro and Maria, "All the fish tacos you have, please."

  We made stilted conversation for a few minutes until the tacos came and I was about to burst with wanting to talk about more serious things. Days of deprivation - of low-carb everything and hours of lifting - had taken their toll and I'm afraid I probably made a bit of a pig of myself inhaling food like a starving man. Watching me stuff my face seemed to amuse Natasha, though, and I was happy to do that.

  "What's so funny?" I asked, perfectly aware of what was funny but wanting her to say it anyway.

  She giggled and shrugged and that little dimple that always pops up when she's happy appeared on her cheek, making me ache with the desire to lean over the table and kiss it.

  "You really like these tacos, don't you?"

  The mood between us lightened a little as we ate and chatted but I could still feel something there, something unspoken that needed to be said.

  "So," I started, finally looking her straight in the eye, "Are you upset with me? You seem a little distant."

  A rueful little smile crossed her face and she met my gaze:

  "Why would I be distant?"

  "Ugh, Natasha, I don't want to play games - I'm asking you because you seem mad and I don't know why."

  "Oh, Blake, really?" She asked, suddenly getting to her feet and glaring at me, "You don't want to play games? Well neither do I."

  She was about to leave - and I could tell from her tone of voice that she wasn't pleased. I stood up as well and put my hand on her arm, desperate for her to stay.

  "Natasha, please. I don't understand why you're so upset. I'm sorry if I didn't give you enough space or...room or whatever it was you needed. I missed you, that's all. I wanted to see you again."

  She was turning to leave when I said that and she froze as soon as the words were out of my mouth, slowly pivoting back around to eyeball me.

  "You...what?"

  "Natasha, Jesus Christ, do you want me to humiliate myself completely? Or will just a little do?"

  I was about to go further but she just held up her hand in a 'please stop speaking' gesture and took a deep breath.

  "Blake, did you wait four days - four days - to call me because you thought I needed space?"

  "Uh...yes?"

  She sat back down at the table and I did the same, both of us peering at each other, confused. It took a few seconds but eventually she threw back her head laughing and then faced me again, leaning over the table towards me.

  "Well do you want to know how I spent the last four days? I spent them checking my phone every ten minutes to see if there was a message from you - and that's only because I was forcing myself not to check every five minutes. I spent them feeling like a complete idiot for falling for you and thinking the other night was something more for you than a casual thing."

  "Natasha," I began, shaking my head at her complete lack of understanding, "Are you nuts?"

  "I don't know," she shrugged, "Am I nuts? What would you think if you were me and some big famous movie star had sex with you and then didn't call for four days? Especially if that movie star was sort of known for doing that?"

  "But...Nat, it wasn't a casual thing - we aren't strangers. I didn't call you because you seemed so weird after it happened, like you didn't want to talk to me or you needed space or something. You didn't even let me drive you home."

  "So, Blake, let me get this straight. You didn't call me for four days because you thought I didn't want you to call? No offense, but I'm starting to think your reputation might be undeserved."

  "What does that mean?"

  Natasha leaned in even closer and gave me the kind of look you would give a very stupid person. She wasn't mean about it - in fact I could see the amusement in her eyes:

  "It means women don't want to look desperate, you idiot. We want you to call! Why would you ever think I didn't want you to call?"

  I was stumped. And, oddly, I seemed to quite enjoy being stumped by Natasha. I know I was sitting there grinning like a fool, probably confirming everything she was beginning to suspect about my IQ.

  "Blake, can I ask you a question?"

  Her tone was softer now, and she reached out across the table and touched my hand, running one of her fingertips down the length of my index finger.

  "Sure."

  "You've slept with a lot of women-"

  I cut her off, eager to impress upon her that she wasn't one of those women. "No, Nat - I mean, yes, but-"

  "Let me finish. You've slept with a lot of women - there's no point in denying it. What happens afterwards? Do you think they just go back to their lives and never think about you again?"

  I paused. The truth is that may have been the most thought I'd ever given to the subject. In my wild bachelor days I made sure never to give out my real number - it was always a friend's number or, sometimes, just a straight-up fake one. I didn't want to be contacted and the suggestion that maybe these women did wait for me to call again was one I hadn't considered before. Natasha knew it, too.

  "You never called them again, did you? And I bet you never even wondered if they wanted you to, right?"

  I shook my head, feeling exposed and even a little ashamed - an emotion I was almost entirely unfamiliar with at the time.

  "Natasha, you're like an adorable inquisitor, aren't you? Why are you making me talk about this?"

  "Because, Blake Charlton, what you do matters. How you treat people matters. I don't mean you did somet
hing wrong by sleeping around - I don't think I know a single man who wouldn't have done it in your position - but sleeping around doesn't mean you have to treat people disrespectfully."

  The last thing I wanted was Natasha Ray thinking I had meant any disrespect by not calling her.

  "Nat, please listen to me - you're not wrong, you're definitely not wrong, but it's different with you and even though that sounds lame, I promise you it's true. In fact the only reason I didn't call was because I was trying to be respectful! Believe me, I kept picking up the phone to call you and forcing myself not to."

  We sat there looking at each other for a few moments, saying nothing until Nat gave me an exasperated smile.

  "We're such idiots. Well, you're a bigger idiot than me."

  "Yes," I agreed, laughing.

  "We probably shouldn't be allowed outside without helmets on, you know."

  I nodded, "Yeah, it's a wonder I manage to feed myself, isn't it?"

  I was so damn happy sitting in that tiny little taqueria. My face was actually aching a little from smiling so much and everything inside me felt light and at ease. I'm not always the most thoughtful person and I've been known to move on to the next thrill - whatever it is - with a certain haste, a fear of slowing down and feeling something real, something that isn't about adrenaline or excitement. But not that afternoon with Natasha - that afternoon, I didn't want to go anywhere else, do anything else, be with anyone else. All I wanted to do was sit right there with her until Pedro and Maria closed up shop, and then I wanted to stay there all night and all of the next day and the next, just basking in Natasha's witty, sweet and sharp-as-a-tack presence.

  "So we've established that we can both be dummies - although I might be a slightly bigger dummy. Can we also establish, right here and now, that I think you're awesome and I want to call you eighty times a day and spend as much time with you as I can? That's the truth, Nat, as embarrassing as it is to say."

  Natasha didn't say anything in reply right away. I watched her as various emotions - happiness, excitement, hope - flitted across her face until she closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath.