Intimate Intuition_A Lotus House Novel_Book Six

by Audrey Carlan

  Watching her taking me, getting herself off, my body reacts…powerfully. An ache builds in my balls I can’t ignore. Ribbons of sheer pleasure ripple out from where we’re connected all through my body. My heart starts to pound, and my dick gets impossibly harder, balls drawing up ready to go off.

  “Get there!” I groan, lifting my hips up and forcing her down hard on my cock.

  She cries out and picks up her pace, bobbing up and down so fast her big tits are slapping against her skin, the nipples dark red, ripe as fuck.

  Licking my thumb, I bring it down to where we’re connected and spin circles around her hot little button of nerves.

  “Si, Si, Si,” she starts to chant, a dead giveaway she’s going to come and do it hard.

  “Fuck yeah!” I roar, digging my other hand into her hips so that every time she comes down, I get as far up into my woman as possible. Until it’s too much. Her body locks down around mine, her pussy a vise around my dick, and finally, fucking finally, I let go.

  Pumping up into her as she stills, the wave coming over her, the world exploding around me as I go off inside her. She takes it. Everything I’ve got until she can’t any more and loses herself, coming over me in a heap of sexy, sweat-misted skin.

  I hold her, ease us sideways so she’s more comfortable and our baby isn’t squashed but we’re still connected. She keeps a leg wrapped around me as though she doesn’t want to let go.

  “Missed you, baby.” I kiss her lips, her cheek, neck, nipples, chest, and back up. Then I bury my nose against her hair where her scent is strongest and lick behind her ear, sighing as another part of my woman’s body hits my tongue.

  “Love you, Silas, and I love our new home.”

  I hum against her skin, kissing her some more, licking her neck, just keeping our connection going for as long as possible, not wanting this bubble to break.

  “You’ll be happy here?”

  This time she hums, kisses my neck, my chest over the bullet hole, and then back up to my lips. When she pulls away, her eyes are endless oceans of Caribbean blue. “I’ll be happy wherever you and our baby are. It doesn’t matter, as long as we’re there together.”

  “How’s about forever?” I ask.

  Dara frowns as if she doesn’t understand the question.

  Staying connected, I reach out and grab my pants, digging inside the pocket and pulling out the ring box. Her head is tucked against my chest so she can’t see that I pull out the ring and leave the box.

  “Give me your hand.”

  She lifts her right hand.

  I laugh. “Give me your left hand, my queen.”

  Her eyebrows rise up as she shimmies half over me and lifts her left hand.

  I grab her hand, look into the eyes I want our baby to have, and lay it out. “Marry me, Dara. Live here as my wife, my woman, the mother of my children. Forever.”

  “Really? You want me forever?” Her body trembles in my arms. She told me before how hard it was to accept she was wanted by the Jacksons all those years ago. Told me in the quiet of the night her biggest fear was not being wanted.

  “Baby, I wanted you the day I laid eyes on you. Then I got a taste of all that is you and knew with my whole soul, you were worth living for. Hell yes, I want you forever. The question is, do you want me forever?”

  A tiny prickle of nervous energy flickers around my body as she bites her lip and then smiles huge. “Yeah, I want you forever. This life. You as my husband. Our babies. I want it all, Silas McKnight.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The third eye chakra is often associated with a dark purple or indigo type color. When focusing on the aura, the energy surrounding the body may appear as a translucent purple or bluish white.

  DARA

  “Let me see the ring again!” Luna reaches for my hand and swoons over my rock for the third time in as many minutes.

  I glance down at the perfect, oval-shaped diamond with two triangle ones hugging its sides. It’s stunning. Without realizing it, I’m holding it up, allowing the light to glint off its glory.

  A sigh leaves my lips, and I rub my bump. Baby is fluttering around my belly. The first time I felt the butterfly wings, I jumped up, grabbed Silas’s hand, and pressed it over our baby. Unfortunately, he couldn’t feel a thing, much to our disappointment. The book says he’ll be able to feel the rolling and kicks sometime after the twentieth week. Which I’m finally at!

  I cannot wait for our doctor’s appointment, where we get the big ultrasound and find out what we’re having. Silas, on the other hand, is dreading it. He keeps trying to talk me into waiting until the baby is born to find out what we’ve having, but I simply can’t. I must know. And since he loves me and doesn’t want me to be let down, he’s caving to my wishes.

  Secretly, I keep hoping and praying it’s a boy. A son to carry on the McKnight name, the first in the family so far.

  “It’s so incredible, Dara,” Luna shares while we walk through the largest home store known to man. At least it feels that way as I carry my extra weight around with me.

  “What is?” I run my hands over a dark royal-blue couch. I’ve already got Silas painting the living room a smoky gray to accent the white crown molding. I’ve found a huge area rug that has white, gray, and a burnt-orange color and is currently on the floor of our bare living room.

  “Your love story. A one-night stand turned forever.” She shakes her head. “I’ve given up on finding Mr. Right. All I’ve ever found is Mr. Wrong and Mr. Right Now. There’s only so much a girl can take.”

  “Luna, girl, you’re only a year older than me. Twenty-six is not old, and you’ve not left the yoga studio enough. You need to get out there, see what’s available.”

  She puckers her lips. “Been there, done that, and got the broken heart to prove it. Besides, with Mom and Crystal stepping down, I’m it. Like the bakery is for you, Lotus House is my home. It’s always been my dream to run the studio. Heck, it’s been my dream to run several of them up and down California. It’s the reason I got the stupid business degree while teaching all these years.”

  I finger the price tag on the cushy sectional. Well within my price range. “Yeah, I get you. Running the bakery is tough, but finding the right help is key. Plus, you need to find some relief. You can’t be the only one doing all the work all the time. You’re gonna burn out.”

  Luna sits on the sofa and sighs and rubs her hands along the microfiber, making the dark blue turn midnight. “Oh, this is really nice.”

  Following her lead, I sit on the couch and decide right then. “This is so my couch!” I tell her.

  She laughs and nods. The salesman must have radar on women with money to burn, because he appears out of nowhere.

  “See something you ladies like?” A balding man smiles toothily and waggles his furry eyebrows with his double entendre.

  Eew. Gross.

  Not into overly fluffy men with bellies hanging over their belts and a mustache in need of a serious trim. My mind wanders to my fiancé and all that is Silas McKnight and his beautiful self. Nope, I’m into brothers with abs I can play tic-tac-toe on who can also lift me and my “preggo” ass and toss me on the bed like I weigh as much as a feather.

  “Why? You gonna give me a deal?” I raise my eyebrows and rub my baby belly.

  He rolls back onto his heels and then forward. “I could probably score you fifteen percent off if you open up an account and finance the purchase. No interest if you pay it off in six months.”

  “Deal!” I rub my hands together, knowing I’ll pay that sucker in cash when the bill arrives, but fifteen percent on a three-thousand-dollar sectional is nothing to sneeze at. “Will it be fifteen percent off my entire purchase if I buy more stuff?” I bat my eyelashes prettily.

  His cheeks pinken.

  Aw, he’s so easy. Now I kind of feel bad for thinking poorly of his potbelly, thinning hair, and bad facial hair.

  “For you, pretty lady, of course.” He rubs his hands together. />
  “Come on, Luna girl. I’ve got an entire house to furnish!”

  She stands up and claps her hands. “Right!”

  My cell phone rings, and I pull it out of my pocket. Ricky’s name is on the display.

  “Yo, bro!” I say in greeting.

  “Hey, cupcake. Was wondering what you are up to. Esteban is snoozing because I tired his ass out…literally.”

  “Ricky…” I warn, not wanting to hear about his sexual escapades with his new beau.

  “Anyway, spoilsport, was wondering what you are up to.”

  “Shopping.”

  “Ooh, what for? Baby stuff?” His tone rises in interest.

  “Nope, home furnishings.”

  “You already buying stuff for your new pad? That place is bea-u-ti-ful!”

  Luna walks ahead and scopes out an amazing armoire, which would go perfect in the guest bedroom.

  “Luna, that is sa-weet! Price that, girl.” I point to the armoire.

  “Luna? Thought you’d be with Mr. Hotpants-baby-daddy-soon-to-be-hubby?” Ricky queries.

  “Yeah, he doesn’t care much for home design.” I shrug to myself, checking out a cool-as-heck vase, which would look great on the sixteen-seater dining room table I’ve been scoping out online.

  “Really? And he’s letting you shop. What? Did he give you carte blanche with his AmEx Black? Please tell me he did. Thinking about it makes me so damn hot.” I imagine Ricky in his house, sitting in his chair fanning himself.

  I laugh at the image he makes. “No. I’m paying for the furnishings.” Pride leaks out in my tone.

  “Say what? How the hell did you manage that with alpha badass Silas McKnight?”

  “Not without a lot of convincing.” My voice drops, remembering how I teased my man, took him in my mouth until he’d agreed to anything.

  “I’ll bet. But sex agreements can only go so far. I know that from experience.”

  “True, but I also told him I’d been working in the bakery all my life and saving my money since I graduated high school. I don’t pay rent, have no school loans, and I’ve lived simply. Not a big spender, so I’ve been socking my money away for years.”

  Ricardo whistles sharply, and I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “Damn, I should have borrowed money from you instead of taking a loan from the bank for my car. Those bastards are charging me eight percent!”

  I chuckle at how he brings my situation right back to him. “That’s because you charge up your credit cards with stupid shit. The day you learn is the day your percentages start going down.”

  “Hmmm. Fair enough. Still surprised he caved.”

  “Me too, but I’m damn good with my mouth.” I cluck my tongue for emphasis.

  “Wow wee. I’ll just bet you are, seeing as you’re carrying his baby and about to become his wife.”

  “Don’t I know it!” I say with glee. “It’s crazy, Ricky. Five years ago, hell, one year ago, I would never have thought I’d be shopping for my home in the Berkeley hills with the owner of Knight & Day Productions and be head over heels in love with him. It’s surreal.” I shake my head and follow the tile between the rooms to the next setup.

  Ricky sighs his own dreamy one through the phone. “Yeah it is, but deserved. You make him happy, he’ll make you happy, and everyone is happy. End of story. No need to write any more words.”

  “This is true. Do you want to meet up later for drinks and appetizers?”

  “Because you’re going to have an alcoholic beverage?”

  “No, silly, but Luna might want one after a day of me dragging her around home stores!”

  “Sounds good. What time?”

  “Shoot for six?”

  “Okay. High Point Bar & Grill? It’s got a great view and happy hour runs from five to eight,” Ricky offers.

  “Rockin’. See you there at six.”

  Hanging up, I move toward the most beautiful bedroom set I’ve ever seen. The wood isn’t dark, but it isn’t light either. It’s right in the middle. The sign on the end of one dresser says Brazilian Cherry on the tag.

  “Wow.” I run my hand along the dresser. It’s taller than normal dressers but still fat and wide. Nice, deep drawers. There’s a matching headboard that’s tall and high up the wall. This bed is queen-sized, but I’ve promised my man a California King. He says he wants to be able to roll all over the bed with his woman as well as fit all of his children in his bed for Sunday morning cuddle time.

  I can’t wait for Sunday morning cuddle times with my man and kids. Having had no family in my early years to then having just my two adoptive parents, I’ve wanted a big family. Silas comes from one, as did his mother and father. He is not averse to expanding our brood beyond this one. Still, since I know he lost several babies with Sarah, this one is very important to him. The man just wants to hold his own child in his arms.

  While thinking of Silas, I note he’s been acting so strange the last week. Not in a way that’s unloving, just more protective, a little nervous. I thought maybe it had to do with the twenty-week check coming up in two days, but he hasn’t said anything.

  All I know is every night we go to bed in my tiny apartment, he makes slow love to me, taking his time and being extra careful. I know he’s worried about the baby, but I keep telling him every day I feel the baby moving, and I’m confident he/she is okay. The one thing I haven’t mentioned is I can already see the baby’s aura. He now knows I can read auras, thinks it’s a neat party trick, but reading the baby’s?

  It’s a secret I haven’t shared with anyone because I didn’t know it was even possible. My aura is usually indigo. I’ve always been driven by the third eye chakra, but my own colors change along with my moods just like anyone else. However, when studying myself in the mirror, I noted my aura color was an orangey silver that’s often seen in pregnant women. That wasn’t the strange part. The strangeness occurred when I noticed my entire belly was a startling yellow circular shape, reminiscent of a sun. Same as Silas’s resting aura.

  Seeing the yellow halo around my belly has given me great peace. It means my baby is going to be like his or her father, and seeing that yellow glow makes me a hundred percent confident the baby is okay. If it wasn’t there, I’d worry.

  Luna comes up behind me and oohs and ahhs over the bedroom set. I agree with her that Silas will love it and it will look perfect in our new home.

  After several rounds in a host of home stores, I’ve purchased a bedroom set, sectional, armoire, vases, lamps, another rug, a couple of chairs for a reading space, and some other pictures.

  “Luna, I’m done, and Ricky wants us to meet him at High Point for drinks and apps. I’m starving, and baby needs to eat. Plus, I think my ankles are the size of paint cans!”

  She chuckles, hooks my arm, and we head outside to her cherry red Ford Fusion. We both buckle up and head out of San Francisco and toward Berkeley. The traffic is a crush, so we turn up the music and sing along to the latest Gwen Stefani album.

  “Don’t you think Genevieve Fox looks like Gwen Stefani?” I mention our friend who only teaches two nights a week and cuts hair and hangs with her family the rest of the time.

  “Totally!” Luna tips her head back and laughs, her arm coming out and knocking over her purse that she’d teetered on the console between us. Some of the items scatter down in front of me, the others under her feet.

  Me being too round to do anything about the items in front of me, I just laugh at our predicament.

  Luna glances at the road and then down, reaching for things and shoving them into her purse on her lap. Then someone cuts her off, and she moves to hit the brakes, only her glasses case had rolled under the brake pad and the car isn’t stopping.

  “Oh my God, Dara!” Luna screams and puts her arm out across my chest.

  It all happens in slow motion, the red hood of a car barreling into the line of parked cars in front of us as we wait to take the onramp toward Berkeley.

  The sound of metal crunching
against metal rips through my ears, the airbags go off, and I’m slammed back into the seat and immediately lose consciousness.

  * * *

  Sirens are blaring, and my body is being lifted out of the crushed vehicle. I come to and shake off the grogginess. Pain ricochets up my neck, but I still crane to see Luna as the paramedics strap my head down tight. “Ma’am, don’t move your head or your body. We need to see to your injuries.”

  Except before they did that, I saw Luna’s motionless body, still in the car, blood pouring down the side of her head, her form slumped over the passenger’s seat where she tried to protect the baby and me.

  “The baby!” I call out.

  “I got a heartbeat, but there’s blood between your thighs. We need to get you to the hospital stat!”

  No. No, please God, no. You can’t do this to us.

  “My baby,” I whisper. “Luna!” I cry out and lose consciousness once again.

  * * *

  I wake in a large white and pink room. My face is hurting like mad, and not a single soul is there to greet me. A horrible sense of loneliness rips through my chest, and I grab for my belly. Gadgets are hooked up to my abdomen. One is a square that’s pressing tightly against my bump. A whooshing sound is filling the room.

  An instant calm comes over me at the sound. It’s just like what we heard at our twelve-week checkup: our baby’s heartbeat.

  I glance around the room. I’m hooked up to an IV, a machine to my right is keeping track of something, and the whoosh noise continues. Just as I see a red button dangling from a white box hanging over the arm rail, a nurse enters the room.

  A short-haired blonde with kind eyes and a cheery complexion comes over and takes my pulse. “How are you feeling, honey?” she asks.

  “Um, my head hurts, my belly is uncomfortable, and there’s a tightness in my chest,” I answer.