by Sasha Gold
“Nick…”
She’s so still, riveted. Wind lashes the trees outside and a small draft wafts through the workshop. The candle sputters but the flame doesn’t fail. Shadows flicker and wave.
“You made a cradle.” She traces her fingertips over the edge and gives it a little push. The bed is set within a frame and rocks easily. She gives it a slight push and smiles as it sways back and forth. I love the expression on her face.
“I need to sand it. Then you can tell me if you want it stained or maybe painted. Blue...or pink.”
“All that time you were in here, running machines and hammering, I had no idea you were working on something like this.”
Her voice is gentle and there’s a bit of awe there too. I’ve made things for people before. Shelves for Olivia’s books. A butcher block for Gran, but I’ve never made something that meant so much. Will we have a baby to rock in that cradle? Maybe. If Bailey’s not pregnant, then I’ll do my best to remedy that.
“It’s beautiful, Nick.”
“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart.”
She turns and smiles at me for a long moment. “I love it. Thank you.”
I nod. “We’re already a family, you and me.”
Her smile fades and now she looks like she might cry. I lead her back to the bedroom, tug her towel and let it drop to the floor. Then I coax her under the blankets. I blow out the candle, shed my clothes and come to her side. I coax her to roll to her stomach, kiss the length of her back, tracking along her spine. Each kiss is a sweet twist to my gut. I want her so badly. I love how she sinks into the bed, reveling every kiss.
I pull her close. “I would have come after you even if you weren’t pregnant, Bailey. I knew before you left this is where you belong. With me.”
She doesn’t say anything and I wonder if she’s fallen asleep. I prop myself up on my elbow. Her eyes shine in the moonlight, like she might start crying any minute. Pressing my hand against her tummy, I kiss her temple. She covers my hand with hers and I lie down, settling behind her and hold her as she drifts off to sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Bailey
Sitting in a waiting room with Nick is not a lot of fun. Especially if it’s a room full of expectant mothers, small children and not enough seating. The office has a play area where most of the children play, but a few wander around and I watch Nick’s face every so often. His expression is one of bemusement.
He holds my hand stroking his thumb over my wrist every so often.
After a few minutes, he leans over, “I don’t really like kids. But I’ll like our kid.”
“I will too.”
The nurse calls patients every so often, women in different stages of pregnancy. Some aren’t showing at all and others have round, beautiful bellies. I watch them, jealously studying every gesture. Every time one of them moves across the room her hand will either cup her baby bump or caress the curve.
“That’s going to be you in a few weeks,” Nick whispers.
I don’t know why he’s whispering like we’re in church or something, but his words make me smile. “Nick, the baby’s like the size of peanut, if that. I won’t show for months.”
He growls softly and the furrow on his brow tells me he knows zero about pregnancy and that he’s disappointed I’m not big and round already. We might get bad news today. Really bad news. But I love that he wants to see me that way.
All my symptoms point to my being pregnant and I got up the courage to take another pregnancy test this morning. I was so relieved to see the little pink line was still showing up. But it could be there because of lingering hormones, not an actual pregnancy.
A teenager, a glum-looking kid, walks in and drops into the seat beside Nick. The boy has earbuds in his ear and just stares off into space, eyes glazed. Nick looks over at him, keeping his attention on the boy for a little longer than just a casual glance. The boy, sensing Nick’s gaze looks over. His lips quirk.
“Hey man,” he says.
Nick nods. “Hey.”
The kid goes back to his blank stare and Nick turns to me.
“I sat beside this kid in the ER the day I met you.”
“No way.”
“Mm. He was listening to the same shitty song.”
I laugh. “It seems like ages ago.”
“That will be a story for our grandkids – How I met their Gran in the ER and one of the first things she did was jab me with a needle.”
“Mrs. McKinley,” the nurse calls.
We get up together and moves his hand to the small of my back. “Want me to set her straight on your full name? Make sure they’ve got it right on the papers.”
I’m walking in front of him, but I hear the smile in his words.
“No, they got it right.”
A couple of days ago, I spent an hour on-line, filling out paper work for the doctor’s office. They needed my whole medical history, personal history and birth plan. A birth plan - I couldn’t even imagine that so I left it blank. I remembered how the questions made me break into a sweat. But I don’t remember filling in the single name of McKinley. It feels right though.
The nurse has me step on the scale and I half expect Nick to say something about my appetite. But he’s quiet. A little pale, casting wary glances at the floor-to-ceiling shelves of medical supplies.
“I’ve actually lost a pound,” I tell him as we follow the nurse down the hall.
He doesn’t say anything.
The nurse leads up to a small room with the sonogram equipment. This is it. The moment of truth.
I figure we’ll wait a while here too, but the doctor comes in right away, shooing the nurse out. Dr. Weiss is a lady, maybe sixty or so, slim with grey hair she wears in a loose bun. I’ve seen her in the hospital a couple of times and she gives me a smile of recognition and shakes Nick’s hand.
She gives him an approving look. “I love when the father attends. Of course, I just knew, being Olivia’s brother you’d be that kind of guy.”
Nick nods, but says nothing. His eyes light with that dark, faraway burn they get. Instead of sitting in the chair provided for family members, he stands near the table.
“I need to run to the hospital, so all we’re going to do is an ultrasound and then the necessary bloodwork.”
I don’t miss the unspoken words. That first we’ll see if any blood work is necessary. I lie back on the table and she tugs my shirt up. I open the button of my pants and lower the zipper a few inches.
“Tell me about the spotting.” She rubs cold gel over my stomach.
“None in a week.”
“Cramps?”
“None.”
The ultrasound screen is a grainy black emptiness. I’m pretty sure this isn’t going to be a 3-D or 4D ultrasound like the big-city clinics have. She sets the paddle on my stomach and moves it slowly across.
“We’re going to rule out ectopic pregnancy first.”
She swishes one side and then the next. “Nothing on either side. That’s good news. Let’s see if we can find a heartbeat.”
I hold my breath. Nick’s hand wraps around mine. A whoosh pulses from the machine. A soft throb.
“I hear you,” Dr. Weiss says with an edge of amusement. “But I don’t see you, little one.”
And then the small flash appears. It pulsates.
Nick points to the flashing light. “That’s the baby’s heart.”
“That’s it,” Dr. Weiss says. “We’ll send you home with a sonogram picture.”
She sets the wand aside and the image freezes on the screen. I feel her wipe the gel from my stomach.
“I’ll give you my usual song and dance so I can run to the hospital. Set up your appointments with the nurse. Call me anytime. Anytime. Take your vitamins regularly. You can resume sexual relations. Some dads are afraid they’ll hurt the baby, but you won’t. Any questions?”
I look at Nick and he’s just staring at the ultrasound screen with a sweet smile on his face.
“No,” I say. “We’re good.”
“Well, you have Olivia to talk to as well.” She snaps off her gloves. “Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. McKinley. From the looks of things, you’re about five weeks pregnant.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Nick
Gran and Olivia brought dinner and a bottle of champagne to toast the pregnancy. I teased Bailey that she couldn’t drink. Not only is she pregnant, but she is still underage. I just had a sip, to toast the news and Bailey joined in with a glass of ginger ale.
Finally, Olivia and Gran leave and I have Bailey to myself.
“I’m going to take a bath,” she says, a sweet blush coloring her cheeks.
What I want is to carry her to bed and keep her busy most of the night, but I can tell she’s a little worried. Like I’m going to jump her. Which is exactly what’s happening, but I suppose I’m not doing any of that until she’s soaked for a while.
“Sure,” I say, trying to sound casual. My entire body hums with primitive need as I listen to the sound of the water running. I prowl the house. First I build a fire so that it will be warm for her when she gets out. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. There’s a short scruff of several day’s growth on my jaw. Maybe I should shave.
When she comes out of the bathroom, she’s wearing the nightie Sydney gave her.
“Bailey… damn.” I cross the room, pick her up and carry her to the bed.
“We’ve barely kissed since we got married.”
“I was afraid to touch you. I wanted you so badly.”
I lower to kiss her, softly at first, cradling her face, and then I deepen the kiss, stroking the seam of her lips with my tongue. When she parts her lips, I growl, devouring her. Trailing my fingers down the front of her nightie, I groan when I reach her breasts. She’s so perfect. Her breasts are lush and full.
It feels like years since I’ve been inside her. I slip my hand under the delicate lace of her panties. Her pussy is wet, swollen and she whimpers with need. I pull my shirt over my head, and shed the rest of my clothes. I snap off the light and the room is darkened but there’s enough moonlight that I can still see the sweet way she watches me.
“My beautiful bride.” I crawl across the bed and look down at her. I lift the hem of the nightie and brush my fingertips over the taut skin of her stomach. “Our sweet baby.”
Her breath catches and her eyes shine.
“Maybe you should be on top. I don’t want to make Junior uncomfortable.”
She giggles. “You won’t. Not for a while, anyway.”
It takes every ounce of self-control to keep from tearing her little panties off, but I love seeing her in this. I don’t want to wreck her sexy outfit, so I ease the panties past her hips and down her legs. I kiss a path back up. She parts her knees and in the moonlight I see how wet she is for me. I’d like to tease her with my mouth, make her scream while I devour her, but I need to sink into her more than I need my next breath.
I rub the head of my cock against her slick folds and push gently. A soft moan comes from her lips and she closes her eyes. I could come just from the sounds she makes, or the way she looks. I take a few short thrusts, not wanting to do anything too quickly.
Her hands clasp my hips and urge me on. Her touch is electric. My self-control vanishes and I drive deep. A cry tears from her lips but she clasps my hips with her silken thighs.
“You’re so tight,” I manage to say. “But you’re wet. You’re so ready for me.”
She writhes and bucks beneath me, digging her fingers into my back. Both of us are half-crazed with need. This. Making love to my beautiful Bailey. This was what I craved from the moment I laid eyes on her.
She’s gasping, clawing at me and the sheets, frenzied, but she manages to whisper, “I missed you, Nick.”
“I missed you too.” I reach down and smack her ass and the crack echoes against the walls.
She yelps. “You… beast.”
“Yes, Bailey, I am a beast. A cave man fucking his cave girl.”
I grip her hips and slow my thrusts. Slowing my pace makes her give me soft pleading noises, begging for me to fuck her hard. Lifting my hand to cup her breast, I tease her nipple. Gently. I might smack her ass, but her breasts are sensitive now.
“Please,” she gasps. “I need…”
“What do you need?” I manage to grind out from between clenched jaws. I shouldn’t tease her like this. I can barely keep from ramming into her wet core because I’m blinded by lust and savage need.
“I need to come,” she whispers.
Deepening my strokes, I feel her writhe beneath me and then bow off the bed. “Nick…” Her cry tears the last of my self-control and I follow her over, growling as pleasure crashes through my senses. We lie together, both of us panting. She trembles in my arms and I roll over, bringing her with me, so she ends up draped over me. Her hair covers my face but I don’t care. I’m totally spent and she is too.
Neither of us move for a long time and finally Bailey lifts to look down at me. “Nick,” she whispers, “you’re a beast.”
“Bailey,” I murmur. “You’re a beauty.”
Epilogue - Five Years Later
Bailey
I’m lying in bed naked and I should be able to relax. Olivia is at our new house, watching the kids. Aunt ‘Livia is Connor and Danny’s favorite person aside from Nick and I. She’ll keep them busy building train tracks and reading picture books. She’s spending the night. Nick and I are having a little time away, staying in the house he lived in when we met.
So why can’t I relax? Nick made me dinner and later we danced in the den. It was lovely. Romantic. He’d made a fire and the room was lit by firelight and candles that flickered on the table. But then Olivia called with the news that Danny couldn’t find his blanket, the one he needs to go to sleep. Nick took off on his bike to help her search.
Instead of enjoying the quiet of the cabin, I’m wondering if I should get dressed and head back home. He’s been gone twenty minutes. The new house is a mile away and I feel like I should go over and help my little Danny find his blankie. My heart squeezes. I hope he’s not upset.
I text Nick. Should I come help settle the boys?
I got this.
I could be there in five minutes.
Don’t you dare move.
His text makes me smile. He’s been planning this evening for a couple of weeks, arranging for Olivia’s visit so the two of us can have some time together, just the two of us.
Where is that blanket? I can see Nick stalking around the house, searching for the blanket, while Connor follows him from room to room, probably peppering him with questions.
Why can’t I have marshmallows for dinner? Why are you and mommy sleeping in the cabin? Are you gonna miss us? Why does Danny lick the television? Do you want me to come stay with you and Mommy? Why does the moon shine a different color than the sun?
Nick is always patient. He answers the questions with the same tenderness that he’s always shown the boys. Even when they were newborns. I’d imagined he would be afraid of a tiny baby, but he took to fatherhood like it was all he ever wanted. He tells me he wants two more. And if those two are boys, we need to keep trying for a little Bailey-girl.
Then I hear the sound of a motor. His bike. He’s driving along the darkened trail, the snarl of the engine growing louder. If he’s coming back, that means he’s found the blanket and all is well. Olivia can handle just about anything with the boys. She’s devoted to them and they’re crazy about her. I should just relax and enjoy the night ahead.
Nick drives the bike up to the cabin and the roar of the engine is silenced. I hear his footsteps. I bite my lip to suppress a laugh. The handcuffs lie on the table. I found them earlier this week when I came to tidy the cabin. I set them aside because I loved the idea of surprising him tonight.
The handcuffs would be one surprise and the other would be something quite different.
I slip the cuff a
round one wrist. I hope I can pull this off. Holding my breath, I wrap the other cuff behind a post on the head board and snap it around my other wrist. Nick comes in the cabin and locks the door behind him. His boots echo in the hallway.
“Disaster averted,” he says, his voice a sexy growl. “The blanket was in the playroom under a couch pillow. Saint Olivia found it.”
He takes off his leather coat, pausing halfway. “You awake?”
I can’t help but giggle. “No.”
“You better be awake, baby. I’m waking you if I need to. I’ve been thinking of this all week, having you to myself.”
His voice moves over me like a sensual caress, making my nerves taut with desire. I’ve thought about having him to myself all week too. I love our family and the life we have together, but I also love when Olivia spends the night. Nick and I get to slip away and spend some time alone.
He finishes undressing and slips between the covers. Drawing close, he lowers his head to kiss me.
“I need to tell you something,” I say.
“What?”
“I found the handcuffs you used on me when you brought me here.”
He nuzzles my neck. “Where are they?”
“Around my wrists.”
I hear him draw a sharp breath and he trails his fingers up my arm to the head board. A growl rumbles through his chest and his mouth crushes mine. His kiss is hot, devouring and winds a ribbon of arousal along my senses. I melt beneath his consuming kiss.
Brushing his lips down my neck, he scatters small biting kisses to my breasts. Cupping them in his hands, he teases one with his tongue while he toys the other with his rough fingertips. A few moments ago he was looking for a child’s blanket and now he’s like a force of nature. A perfect storm. I’m swept up and carried along. Ravished by my lover.
His whole body feels hard, unforgiving and I wonder what I’ve unleashed.
The burr of his beard scrapes my stomach as he parts my thighs with rough hands. Tracing a finger between my folds his breath hisses between his teeth. “Wet for me.”
I’m gasping and writhing as I anticipate the sweet torment he’s about to give me.
