by Quinn, Taryn
He ate me up with his eyes, his thrusts coming even faster. Deeper. Harder. Bumping that delicious spot inside me that made my legs shake and my breaths turn to pants.
I rubbed myself just that much more quickly, loving the pressure from his fullness inside me. He grabbed my wrist and brought it to his mouth, sucking on my fingers as he shoved my underwear over even more and redoubled his strokes.
Every time he bottomed out inside me, I gasped. And clutched him that much tighter.
He finally let out a low groan and went off inside me, those warm pulsations going on for so long that my body had no defense. I came again with a whimper against his shoulder, clinging to him through the waves of pleasure and the aftermath that always arrived too fast.
“I love giving you your firsts.” He rolled onto his back and took me with him.
We’d made a bit of a mess, but obviously, neither of us was inclined to tidy up right now. Instead, we stretched out like starfish and hoped we could breathe again without wheezing sometime soon.
“Which first now? Drunk sex?”
“You’re not drunk.” The concern in his tone had me lifting my head. I didn’t particularly appreciate him going paternalistic on me, but at least it proved he cared about the baby.
“No. I haven’t drank since New Year’s.” I tapped his sulky mouth. “I meant you.”
“Oh. Could you tell I was drunk?” He glanced down at his body as if he was ascertaining certain parts of him were still attached.
“You told me you were, remember?”
“Hmm. I’m not sure I am anymore. I think the last of it drained out of me when I saw you rocking Lily.”
“I fed her again too. She was unsettled tonight. Wonder why.” I propped my chin on my stacked arms. “Which first?”
He brushed my hair out of my face. “Earlier tonight, that was the first time you sucked a man’s cock.”
I winced. And tried not to shift my thighs together from the thrill those words gave me. “That obvious?”
“No. You were incredible. I could just tell.”
“Mmm-hmm. Speaking of firsts, I doubt you get drunk that often.”
“It wasn’t my first time, but it’s been a very long time. Billy and I used to go out most Friday nights. That changed, of course, when he met Solange and they had Lily. The Fridays were few and farther between.”
“And you got wasted every time you went out?”
His chuckle was like smooth, expensive silk against my skin. “Hardly. But I tested my limits sometimes. I met someone tonight who reminded me of those days.”
Involuntarily, I stiffened. “Oh, yeah? Was she pretty?”
“Try a he.” His smirk was entirely too smug. “I guess he was kind of pretty though, in a manly way. I’m sure he has no trouble meeting women.”
I snorted. “Unlike you. Too bad you’re so ugly.”
“I didn’t have time for women.”
My pulse quickened. Didn’t. Definitely in the past. Did that mean that he did now? He certainly didn’t seem to have cleared his schedule.
“Does he?”
“I don’t know, but he’s a single dad too, to his kid sister. He’s had a rough go of it too.” Asher pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ, he made me laugh. It was like it was with Billy, except it wasn’t. It couldn’t be.”
His pain was a palpable thing. I wanted to pull him close, to hold him while he poured out his feelings.
But he wouldn’t, and I’d just regret trying to encourage him to. So, I tried a different tact.
“Where did you go? And don’t just tell me the bar.”
“I did go to the bar.”
“Elaborate.”
He folded one arm beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. His other hand still rested possessively on my ass. “There’s a place called Sharkey’s not far from here. I ended up there. Basically, it’s a dive. The bartender gave me an entire bottle of whiskey.”
Horrified, I narrowed my eyes. “You did not drink a whole bottle of whiskey. There’s no way in hell you could’ve gotten it up if you had. Not with your lack of tolerance.”
“Gee, who’s the expert here?”
I didn’t want to say it. I almost didn’t. “Try the girl who watched her dad get pissed-face drunk more than once and knows well enough the effects. He couldn’t even stand up when he drank a whole bottle of hard liquor, never mind aim with your precision.”
He was silent for too long. Enough time that I knew he was pitying me. “Hannah, I’m sorry.”
I eased away from him and drew my knees up to my chest. All of a sudden, I was so cold. “You can stop saying that anytime now.”
“But it’s true. I hurt you, and I didn’t mean to. The reasons I left tonight didn’t have to do with you nearly as much as me.”
“They had to do with you feeling responsible for a kid you never intended to make.”
“You’re right. I didn’t intend to make a child. Maybe ever. I didn’t know if it would happen. I also didn’t intend for Billy to fall off that fucking roof, or for his little girl to end up with my last name. I didn’t intend to have to rock her to sleep from nightmares. I wonder if she knows, if she senses her real daddy is gone and is never coming back. If she even remembers him. If she compares me.” He sat up beside me and raked his hands through his hair. “I didn’t intend for life to be so fucking complicated.”
On that point, we could agree.
After a moment, he reached out to rub my back. “I like having you here. I know it’s new. You took this job with Lily, and maybe you figured you’d tell me once the dust settled.”
“I found out yesterday. Remember when you asked me why I was late?” I tightened my grip around my knees. “That would be why.”
“Yesterday,” he echoed dully.
“Yeah. So, I’m no more ‘settled’ with this idea than you are. My doctor ran through the options with me and—”
“What options?”
“The usual ones. Anyway, she told—”
“You’re not having an abortion.”
“No, I’m not, but not because you insisted on it. Your opinion didn’t really factor into my choice.”
His mouth curled into a sneer. “Nice to know where I rank.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re not my husband. We aren’t a couple.”
Some part of me was screaming out for him to deny that. To say something like, hey, we screwed around a few times, maybe that makes us in some kind of relationship. It wasn’t much, but I’d take any bone I could get right now.
But softening the blow wasn’t Asher’s style.
“No, but until we decide otherwise, I’m your employer. And I’m that child’s father, whether or not you like it.”
“Nice to see which title you put first. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” I didn’t want to repeat what had happened earlier, but I also didn’t want to share his air at that particular moment.
I was too hurt, and I wasn’t even sure I had any right to be. But I wasn’t sure what rights he had either.
We were both too gun-shy and too new at all of this to be able to have a rational conversation. At least right now. Maybe after we got some sleep—or perhaps within the span of the next six and a half months—we could get through a discussion about this topic.
Asher looked pointedly at the mattress we were sitting on. “This qualifies as a bed.”
“It does.” One I’d been eager to sleep with him in, until he’d made sure I remembered I was the hired help. “I also have one you made up for me down the hall.”
He exhaled. “Whichever you prefer.”
I’d prefer to stay in your arms.
But I didn’t dare do that, in case I was setting myself up for a very large fall. One that would affect more than me. More than Lily.
And I’d be wise to remember that the next time I wanted to let my hormones take over.
I made myself get out of his bed and walk to the door, gathering my shirt
as I went. My panties were far too damp and stretched all to hell, thanks to his strong hands yanking them out of the way.
Another fantasy checked off the list at least. I’d have to be happy with that.
“Goodnight, Asher.”
This time, when I closed the door behind me, I didn’t slam it.
Sometimes softness was far more powerful.
Seventeen
I slept for four hours and got up for work.
That was all I knew how to do. Force myself to keep going, one foot in front of the other. But today, I’d had to down three Tylenol and a strong cup of coffee before my feet would work.
Damn hangover. I hadn’t even been drunk all that long.
That was life. You played, you paid. I was lucky if I even got to play first.
I grabbed the first suit that came to hand in my row of practically identical ones and dressed in the muted morning light. It was still early, and I didn’t expect Hannah to be up yet. We’d gone to bed late, and she’d been sick yesterday—
I shut my eyes.
Sick from a baby, you asshole. Not food poisoning or the flu. And you gave her ginger candies. No wonder she wouldn’t consult you for any-damn-thing.
I hadn’t known. Hadn’t even guessed. Because we’d used condoms, and it had only been one night.
It had only taken one fall to kill Billy. He’d been young, capable, strong. The two situations weren’t at all related, except that just once was plenty.
Before I left, I wrote down a list of numbers where I could be reached in case of emergency, plus a few extra notes regarding Lily’s preferences. Hannah and I hadn’t discussed anything such as hours, or if she’d be staying here at least for this week while my grandmother was away, or hell, even salary requirements.
That would need to be taken care of this week, as awkward as it was considering the situation. But she’d agreed to take on a job and I’d agree to compensate her, so we needed to get it handled. And this way she would be protected if our personal relationship soured—any more than it had already—and she would be on the books as Lily’s official caretaker.
Assuming she still wanted to be.
That she hadn’t split showed how much she already cared about my little girl. I wouldn’t take advantage of her financially on top of everything else.
We just needed to actually talk to each other.
We’d made a baby, and we’d fucked, and we’d fought. Then we’d fucked and fought again. There hadn’t been much time for any sort of conversation that didn’t involve our loins, or the fruits of them.
I rubbed my forehead and tacked on a quick note at the bottom of the paper.
I’m assuming you’re still working for me. If I’m wrong, you know where to find me.
Great, defensive with touch of dickishness. The exact tone I needed to convey after last night’s colossal mess.
I hope we can figure this out.
I took a deep breath and studied my hurried scrawl. One more step. You can do it.
Hannah, I’m sorry.
A text came in from Vincent. He was already on the way to the trade show. Did I want to take the afternoon shift?
No. I wanted to be anywhere but here right now, as horrible of a person as that probably made me.
I set down the stubby pencil. The words I’d written seemed so inadequate. She deserved a face to face apology, but I didn’t know what to say. How to explain. I couldn’t puzzle out my own thought process right now.
Work was what I knew. What I was good at. Or I’d been good at it once. I just had to see my way through this period. Emerging on the other side would be Wainwright Industries’ greatest triumph.
And mine, other than mastering the art of the perfect diaper.
I tucked a bottle of water in my soft-sided briefcase and stepped outside into a frosty morning. The barren trees glistened with snow and ice and the lawn was covered with a pristine layer of fluffy snow. The driveway had been plowed, as had the road itself. I would have no trouble getting out.
Halfway down the steps, I stopped and puffed out a breath. I hadn’t said goodbye to Lily, as was my habit. Already I was conceding that space to Hannah. Far too eagerly, if I was being honest. She seemed to have the whole baby thing under much better control than I did.
Not even just because she was carrying one.
Mine.
At the sharp twist in my chest, I gripped my briefcase and turned back. I wasn’t going to run out of my own home. Not again. If I happened to see Hannah while I was saying goodbye to Lily, so be it.
I headed upstairs and stopped in the doorway to Lily’s room. Her mobile was spinning merrily, playing some sweet tune. Lily was staring up at it with her fist in her mouth.
“Hi there, sweetheart,” I murmured as I set down my briefcase.
Her gaze swung to me and she let out a giggly gurgle before sticking out her arms. I looked over my shoulder, sure Hannah was probably behind me.
Nope. Lily wanted me to pick her up.
Carefully, I lifted her into my arms. She grabbed a fistful of my hair and tried to drag it into her mouth, her big blue eyes fastened to mine with a plea I wasn’t strong enough to resist.
So what if she sucked on my hair? It would dry.
We moved to the window and I spoke in a soft voice to her as I narrated what I saw. The smoke pluming out of chimneys, the snow-covered cars rumbling down the street, the kids charging down the mostly shoveled sidewalks with their brightly colored backpacks. Lily gnawed on my hair and listened for a good moment or two before she screwed up her pretty face and started to cry.
Not five seconds later, I also screwed up mine.
“That time again, huh?” I took her to the changing table and after shedding my jacket, made quick work of her very dirty diaper. “One good thing, at least you can’t spray my suit,” I told her.
She looked up at me unblinkingly.
She couldn’t, but maybe the new baby would.
Swallowing hard, I tugged out a new snuggly outfit for her in soft green. On the front it said my grandma loves me mostest, which I knew to be true.
I smiled. Hopefully, Gran was having fun on her trip. With her boyfriend.
Oddly, the thought of her actively dating didn’t cause an immediate pulse-pounding headache. Probably because I was in no place to judge. She always had a good time and picked her dates well. She also didn’t have to worry about pregnancy or sticking her giant foot in her mouth so many times it got stuck there.
“She’s the smart one, right, Lily Patch?” I tugged the outfit into place and set her on her feet, laughing a little as she tried to step forward.
Then she did it again.
“Holy sh—crap, Lily, are you walking?”
Unsurprisingly, she didn’t answer, just jammed her hand in her mouth.
She’d tried a few times, but she’d never gotten very far. A blessing for sure. A walking baby was a lot more work than a crawling and climbing one.
Before I could try to get her to walk to me again, she fell back on her butt and chewed on her fingers, her cheeks reddening. She let out a sob and I rubbed the back of my neck.
Now what did she need? Could it be time for another bottle? Hadn’t Hannah mentioned feeding her before bed? That hadn’t been all that long ago in the scheme of things, as evidenced by my dry, gritty eyes.
“Hang on, kiddo.” I set her back in her crib and went to the kitchen to warm up a bottle of formula. Hannah’s door was still closed.
Maybe she’d left. I couldn’t quite blame her if she had. But no, I knew she wouldn’t do that. To me? Maybe. Just never to Lily.
Hell, she probably figured Lily needed her influence. She wasn’t wrong.
I brought the bottle back to the nursery. Lily was still crying, knuckling her streaming eyes with one hand while she sucked on the other.
“Come here, sweetheart.” I tried to pick her up and she kicked out at me, sending the bottle rolling away. I sighed and retrieved it before pickin
g up Lily and propping her on my hip.
My gaze landed on the rocking chair where Hannah had sat with her the evening before.
I didn’t think I’d ever forget that moment. Knowing she not only cradled Lily but that she had my child inside her…
Even if I had not one clue what to do with said child, I couldn’t deny the feelings he or she aroused in me. More and more with each passing hour.
I lowered myself into the rocker and attempted to give Lily the bottle, but she kicked out again. Only my nimble reflexes saved it from going flying again.
“Not hungry, hmm? Diaper is clean. What’s left? Do you miss Hannah?” My voice dipped on her name as if I could conjure her that easily.
Worst of all, I was pretty sure I missed her too, although it had been mere hours since I’d seen her last.
But she needed her rest. They both did.
Christ.
Lily kicked out again and shoved her other hand in her mouth to join the first. Her face was getting redder and redder despite her cries lowering to rather pathetic whimpers.
If she kept that up, we’d wake Hannah whether or not we meant to.
I set Lily higher up on my lap and fumbled out my phone from my trouser pocket. I did a quick one-handed search for possible explanations for crying babies, which ranged from diaper rash—her bum had seemed fine to me—to allergies—I had no idea to what—to teething.
Since Lily was currently rubbing her mouth against her hand and drooling all over the place, I decided that was a good guess.
“You growing some teeth in there? Let’s see.” I reached toward her face and she turned it away, her tears ratcheting up again.
So, that wasn’t happening.
My next step was to do a search to find out how to help. Popsicles, Orajel, and a visit to the pediatrician were some of the top suggestions.
My phone buzzed in my hand. Another text from Vincent, this time saying he’d had something come up and he would appreciate me handling the morning sessions after all. We were also still a go for the overnight Friday night. Saturday would bring a full slate of meetings and social gatherings at the conference space in the Catskills, our free paper organization’s official wrap-up to the week’s activities.
