“Jace, I’m so tired,” I said with a whisper.
“I’m not doing anything, my love,” he said.
My body let go of another shiver as his hand slowly moved closer to my aching pussy.
“Jace.”
“Catherine.”
“What are you… I…”
His fingers grazed over my pussy lips and it almost blew me through the roof. I was so sensitive and so wanton for him. Even in my exhaustion. Even in the hazy cloud of tiredness that consumed me day in and day out, I felt my nipples pucker for him. I felt my legs spread wider for him. His fingers slid up and down my slit, teasing me and caressed me as my hips rose to gain more of his touch.
“Jace,” I said with a whisper.
I felt his lips fall to my neck and my head fell off to the side. A moan escaped my lips. A lust-filled moan that trickled out to the corners of the room. His fingers parted my folds. I felt juices rush down my slit and drip down my ass crack. He groaned into the crook of my neck as goosebumps rushed down my body, causing my hips to roll into his hand.
“I love you,” he said into my skin.
“I love you too,” I said breathlessly.
“I love you, Catherine. I’ll never stop saying it,” he said as his fingertips found my clit. “I’ll never stop telling you.”
“Oh Jace.”
“I’ll never stop spoiling you. And touching you. And caressing you. And drinking you down.”
His fingers circled my swollen nub and it sent shockwaves of unfulfilled desire throughout my veins.
“Jace. Please,” I said with a whimper.
“I’ll spend every night for the rest of my life making this up to you,” he whispered into my skin. “I’ll spend every night memorizing every line of your changing body until you’ve been memorized by my skin.”
He circled faster and faster, sending me into a spiraling frenzy as my hips bucked against his hand.
“Jace. Jace. Please, Jace. Don’t stop. I need it. I want it. Give it to me, please. It’s been so long.”
“Too long,” he said with a groan. “It’s been too long.”
He kissed and licked and sucked at my skin, filling my body with a heat all too familiar. Anya had taken a toll on everything. Our happiness. Our stability. Our focus. Our energy. Our sex life. My body was a molten pit of churning passion and Jace was touching every single button I’d craved for him to touch for weeks. My heels planted into the mattress and I bucked into his hand, silently begging for more of him as his lips nibbled along my neck. My shoulder. My chest.
“I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cumming. I’m cu-”
He crashed his lips against mine, swallowing my sounds as my body shook against him. My pussy dripped with arousal as his fingers slid into my tightened body. He curled them up, beckoning for me to cum again as I unraveled against his body. I spiraled into another orgasm that let me breathless. One that shook the walls and blurred my vision and stopped my heart in my chest.
My hands flew to his hair, sliding through his damp tendrils as my eyes fluttered open to meet his.
“I love you,” I said as tears crested the folds of my eyes.
“And I’m not done with you yet,” Jace said.
Then his eyes darkened and his body raced down mine, and soon I felt his tongue against my throbbing clit.
Twenty-Seven
Jace
Two Weeks Later
“I don’t want to be induced. Jace. We said we weren’t… weren’t going to do any of that.”
“Sweetheart, your body can’t handle the size of the children any longer. You’ve done so well. But your health is at stake here,” he said.
“Don’t let them do it. Please, Jace. I can do this. It’s only six more weeks.”
“Your body can’t go six more weeks, Catherine. You know this.”
I watched tears of fear stream down Catherine’s cheeks. She was in so much pain and her body had gotten so big. Our vacation together as a family had been wonderful, but the second we got home she started experiencing complications. Shortness of breath. An inability to lay down because she couldn't breathe. She even had problems keeping food down because the kids were so compressed and so tight for space that they were pressing against her stomach.
The doctors were worried. So we were at the hospital trying to convince her to induce.
“There’s no cesarean. The doctors are almost certain you can do this naturally once you’re induced. But you can’t keep going like this, Catherine. You stopped breathing last night.”
I choked back tears as the memory came flashing back to the forefront of my mind. I’d woken up with a start because Michaela had been crying. I figured she’d had another nightmare, but when I found her standing on Catherine’s side of the bed trying to wake her up, I turned on a light. And what I found made my stomach plummet through the floor. Catherine’s lips had turned the lightest shade of blue and her skin had become pale. Michaela came in wanting to cuddle with us, but in trying to wake up Catherine she’d made herself upset.
She had worked her way down onto her back and stopped breathing in the middle of the night.
“I don’t want to do this with medication,” Catherine said with a whisper. “You know all the side effects that come with that stuff.”
“And the other option is all of you suffering more than you need to, Catherine. That isn’t an option here. It never will be.”
She closed her eyes and her lip began to quiver. But I still had my hand out to the doctor. I wasn’t doing this without her consent, but if she really didn’t want to induce then it was going to be a long hospital stay. I wouldn’t make her induce, but I would make her stay in the hospital until her body went into natural labor itself. I wasn’t risking another episode like that. I wasn’t risking losing the woman I loved and the four children she had grown for me over something as stupid as her wanting to lay down to fucking sleep.
“I really stopped breathing?” she asked.
My eyes fluttered up to hers as I started wiping away her tears.
“Michaela found you,” I said. “Her crying was what woke me up.”
I saw a determination in her eyes. I watched something flicker behind them that I’d never seen before. She closed her eyes and tilted her head towards the doctor, then I watched her nod her head.
“They’re not going to see me like that,” she said. “Not on my watch. Start the Pitocin, doctor.”
I stepped out to notify her family of what was happening before I gathered my kids in the waiting room. Her pregnancy had been such a whirlwind that we hadn’t stopped to figure out our nannying situation. I held the kids and comforted Michaela, telling her that ‘Miss Caffy’ was all right. And I was relieved when Catherine’s family showed up.
They shooed me off so I could go be with her during the rest of her labor.
It was a long, grueling process. But the strength that poured from Catherine was unlike anything I’d ever seen. We sank ourselves into this in-ground jetted tub the hospital had, and I rocked with her while she gave birth. I massaged her lower back and kissed her shoulder. Massaged her legs and pulled her hair back. Anything she needed from me while working our children from her body, I did. It was the most intimate experience of my life. My body against hers as our children slid from between her legs. Each time, we reached down and helped them out. Each time, I got to feel her body give birth to my children.
Tears were rushing down my own cheeks by the time it was all said and done.
Our children cried out healthy cries that filled the room as Catherine collapsed. She was soaked with sweat and shaking from the exhaustion of her twenty-two-hour labor. I rested against her. Cloaked her with my strength and felt her trembling against me. I threaded our fingers together and laughed through my tears of happiness as our children screamed and cried into the room. The nurses cleaned them up while I took care of Catherine, helping her out of the tub and washing her down so I could get her into some more comfortable c
lothes.
After all the commotion was settled and the nurses had looked over our children, they handed our bundles of joy over to us. I held my son and daughter as Catherine hoisted our other two girls to her breasts, and I watched as they instinctively latched onto her. I bounced my son in my arms, watching his tongue lick his lips as he rooted around. He was hungry, too. I knew he was. My finger slid along his cheek, taking in the softness of his skin.
All of them had that wispy brown hair that matched their mother’s.
“How’s everyone doing?”
“Dad?” Catherine asked.
“There’s my girl,” he said as he came into the room.
“Can we come in?”
“Mom,” Catherine said with a smile.
Tears rushed her eyes again as her mother and sister walked into the room.
“May I?” Hannah asked.
She nodded at my son in my arms and I passed him off to her. And Catherine’s father offered to take our daughter from me. Catherine’s mother took one of the girls before she held her hand out to Hannah, and we all switched the children off so they could be fed. Her father smoothed her hair back and doted on her while Hannah held one of my daughters in her arms. Her mother gathered Ivan and Dmitri and Michaela when they came into the room, and all of us sat around Catherine’s hospital bed as one massive family.
“How are you feeling?” her mother asked.
“Tired,” Catherine said.
“Can I get you anything?” her father asked.
“I bet it’s been a while since she’s had a decent cup of coffee. Could she have some?” Hannah asked.
“I have to keep the same diet until the kids are done breastfeeding,” Catherine said. “But you know what I have a craving for?”
“What is it?” I asked.
“A nice, greasy, five-cheese pizza with buffalo swirl and pineapple,” she said with a smile.
“Oh, pizza! Can we order some, Dad?” Ivan asked.
“We’ll be really careful with it,” Dmitri said.
“Cheese pizza?” Michaela asked.
“Sounds like it’s a pizza night for us,” Catherine’s father said. “And it’s on me. I’ll step outside and get it ordered.”
“That’s not necessary, sir. I can get-”
“Son, sit down,” he said. “Be with your family. I’ll be right back.”
“You’ll get used to it,” her mother said. “He’ll always be the patriarch.”
“Yep. Hope you’re ready to take a backseat whenever he’s around,” Hannah said with a grin.
“You did a great job, honey. These children are beautiful,” her mother said.
“I hate to say it, Jace, but they all sort of look like Catherine,” Hannah said.
“Good,” Catherine said as the children unlatched from her bosom. “Because I carried them for eight months.”
We all let out a little bit of laughter before everything fell silent. I watched my kids crawl up onto the hospital bed with Catherine. Michaela settled between her legs and reached for my son. And just as patiently as Catherine had always been, she morphed Michaela’s arms so she could support my newborn son in her arms. The boys nestled next to her and held the girls, and I watched as Hannah quickly got her camera out.
“Get in there with the littlest,” she said with a whisper. “I want to get a picture of that.”
Catherine’s mother got up from her chair and I took her spot. I sat down next to my family and pressed a kiss to each of their heads. Then, I hovered my lips over Catherine’s and gazed into her eyes. She looked so tired, and yet so full of life. I’d never come to understand how she did it. How she could look so eloquent and so beautiful after such hard work. I smoothed her hair from her forehead before cupping her cheek, then I brought her lips to mine as her arms circled around all of the kids. I could hear the shutters of phone cameras going off, but I didn’t care. I wanted to cherish this moment as much as I could.
My family was whole.
Complete.
Healthy.
Safe.
All nine of us.
“I love you,” she whispered into my lips.
I smiled, nuzzling my nose against her as our kiss broke.
“I love you too,” I said as I opened my eyes.
The birth of our quadruplets was synonymous with the healing taking place between our families. The children were coping with the absence of Anya again and Catherine was slowly on the mend from her harsh pregnancy. She was repairing things with her own family, guiding me into their fold and wrapping me in a love I knew all of them had missed out on over the years. It wasn’t perfect, but it was filled with love. Her parents treated my three older children as if they were their own grandchildren. Hannah loved playing with them and I could tell she would enjoy spoiling our four new additions.
But it was the light in Catherine’s eyes every time she saw her parents. It was the way she melted into their embrace whenever they hugged her. It was the way her father kissed the top of her head and the way her mother smiled at her that made all of this worth it. That made all of the stress and the phone conversations and the late-night talks with tears and tissues worth it.
We were all becoming a family again. We were all falling in love with one another again.
And I could see Catherine finally becoming complete.
Twenty-Eight
Catherine
6 Months Later
“Our first night out,” I said.
“Are you excited?” Jace asked.
“Very. You’re paying the nanny overtime for this, right?”
“Per your rules.”
“Good. Because wrangling seven kids is enough of a job. But to do it at night? With four little ones getting up every two hours? That requires overtime.”
“You never asked for overtime,” he said.
“Because you asked me to be a live-in. Plus, I’d like you think you were paying me in other ways.”
I threw Jace a playful wink as his hand slid over my knee. I’d had the quadruplets six months ago-- Abigail, Christina, Nadia and Langley-- and they kept Jace and I very busy. Nadia, the smallest spent the longest in the NICU, nearly three weeks, but the rest of the babies had come home right away. I pumped whenever I could so Jace could help with the feedings. That made the nighttime adventures into their nursery a little more bearable. But even though we loved our kids, I had to admit that running behind seven of them was taking a toll on our personal relationship. Not in a bad way, but I missed Jace. I missed his touch and his longing glances. I missed those moments when it was only the two of us.
I was glad to be going to the theater with him again. It had been months since I’d gone.
Come to think of it, I’d only been one other time since our first date.
“What’s on your mind, beautiful?”
Jace parked the car as I smiled and looked over at him.
“I’m still beautiful after having four kids?” I asked with a grin.
He leaned over and captured my lips, not wasting a second of his time.
“You’re more beautiful than the day you first walked into my office for that job, Catherine. Don’t you ever forget it,” he said.
I melted into his touch as his hand rose to cup my cheek.
“I’m really glad we’re getting to go out tonight. Dinner was fantastic,” I said.
“So you liked that new restaurant?”
“I really did. They’re soup was phenomenal. Though I wish we would’ve stayed for dessert. I still don’t understand why we couldn't. We’re forty-five minutes early.”
“I thought we could have dessert in my office,” he said with a grin.
I had to admit, that type of dessert sounded delicious. I smiled at him and kissed his lips once more, then followed him up to the enclosed space. This was his favorite place for us to get together and have some alone time. I’d come in, he’d lock the door, then his hands would be all over me. His lips on my neck. His hands on my hips
. His body pinning mine to the wall. To his desk.
Even after four children and countless sleepless nights, I always felt beautiful pressed against his rippling form.
He pulled my hair and tossed me around like the rag doll I still was to him. His tongue licked every crevice and his lips kissed every stretch mark. His hand clamped down over my mouth to keep me from drawing attention to his office. The crowd of the theater was growing, which meant more chances for people to walk in on me naked, bent over his desk. He slid into me time and time again, swallowing his grunts and encasing my thighs in his massive grasp.
His office was filled with our scent by the time we were done.
“Hell of a dessert,” I said breathlessly.
“I think it could’ve used a little more caramel syrup,” he said with a grin.
“That was a surprise, by the way. I’m all sticky now.”
“I could try cleaning you up again.”
His stare darkened and I almost took him up on the offer. Until I saw the clock hanging on his wall.
“Oh shit.”
“What?” he asked.
“The show starts in fifteen minutes,” I said with a giggle.
“Oh shit, indeed. We better piece ourselves back together.”
“My hair’s going to be down for the show now. I won’t be able to get it back up.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I love your hair when it’s down.”
We made quick work of fixing ourselves up before we walked hand-in-hand into the theater. But instead of sitting in his box seat, we had front row seats that sat right in front of the pit orchestra. I furrowed my brow as I sat down, trying to turn around and look at who was sitting in our regular seats.
I could see some shadows, but I couldn't see anyone’s face.
“Something wrong?” Jace asked.
“Just wondering why we aren’t in your box seat,” I said.
“Would you rather be up there?”
“No, no. This is great. I just didn’t expect it is all.”
The show started up and I soon forgot about the shadowy figures in the box seat. I mouthed the words to the songs I already knew and laced my fingers with Jace’s. I was entranced by the performance. Mesmerized by the performers. The beat and the heart-wrenching lyrics and the soul-searing notes. I was panting by the time the performance was done. My hands shook with the need for emotional release as tears streamed down my cheeks. I stood to my feet and clapped until my palms hurt. Whistled until my lips were dry. Whooped and hollered until I had to clear my throat of its dryness.
7+Us Makes Nine: A Nanny Single Dad Romance (Baby Makes Three) Page 17
