Knocked Up- The Complete Box Set
Page 61
“I can’t wait to get this thing off so I can fuck you properly,” he growls. My heart jumps and my centre blossoms with heat at his words. I can feel my cheeks flushing.
“Not too long,” I manage to reply. He smiles just as the cab pulls up outside his place. By the time we’re in the elevator, we’re clawing at each other’s clothes, crushing our lips together, tangling our fingers into each other’s hair.
“I don’t think you need two hands,” I say as the elevator opens. “You’re doing pretty well with just one.”
Dean grins and nods to his door. “Let’s go.”
31
Dean
Sam’s body has so many little secrets that I love discovering. There’s the freckles across her nose and the thousands of freckles that scatter across her chest. She has a mole on her left hip that I kiss gently, and a little patch of skin on her right thigh that’s impossibly soft. Every curve, every freckle, every inch of skin feels like it was made for me to worship. I run my hand all over her body as she watches me and I wish I could use both hands. I want to know her body as well as I know my own.
I’ve been dreaming of her taste ever since the first night, and I finally get to taste her again. We make love again and again, writhing and grinding and touching and kissing and coming until all my energy is spent. I sigh. All I can do is lay back and trail my finger back and forth along her side. She shivers and purrs against me.
“I had such a good time tonight,” she says.
“Me too. When do you have to work next?” I ask.
She lifts her head slightly and frowns at me. “Not till Monday,” she answer. “Why?”
“Stay with me,” I whisper. I’m not ready to let her go, not ready to watch her walk out the door. A smile breaks across her face and she nods.
“Okay.”
She puts her head back on my shoulder and I feel like it was made for her. I run my finger over and back across her body and she shivers again before her breath deepens and I know she’s asleep. I’m not far behind, falling into the deepest and most peaceful sleep I’ve had in months.
We spend the weekend just like that—eating and walking and talking and fucking over and over and over. I’m in heaven. I keep exploring her body and finding new things to love about it, and she keeps exploring mine. Sunday night comes too soon, and despite my protests, Sam kisses me goodbye.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” she says.
“I wish you worked closer to here,” I say with a grin. “It’s so much better when you’re around.”
“Me too,” she smiles. With one more kiss, she walks out the door and heads home. I sigh, locking the door behind her and once again turning around to my cold, empty apartment.
I head to my bedroom and flop down onto the bed. I should feel good, I know I should. I got a call last week from another firm who’s willing to give me an interview, I’ve spent the weekend with a gorgeous woman, and I’m finally living my life as my own man.
I should be happy, and I am! I am happy. I just can’t shake the feeling that it isn’t right. I don’t like fighting with my parents and the cruelty in my mother’s face when she left surprised me. I find it hard to believe that she would let me go so easily, when their entire future in politics relied on my marriage to Victoria.
With a deep breath, I try to put the thoughts behind me. I lay down in bed and I can still smell Sam’s perfume on the pillow. I smile and inhale deeply, already looking forward to seeing her again.
The next few weeks go by just like that. I end up finding a job at a rival firm and slip into a new routine at work. Sam and I see each other whenever we can, and she sleeps over on the weekends and a couple nights a week. My arm heals, and Sam comes with me to get the cast off. It’s easy, and without me even knowing when it happens, I realize I’m happy. I wake up one Sunday morning and turn to see Sam. She’s snoring lightly, her brown hair across the pillow like a brush stroke and her face completely peaceful as she sleeps. I take a finger and run it gently over her cheek, smiling as she shivers.
Her eyes flutter open.
“Hey,” she murmurs.
“Hey,” I answer. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”
“It’s okay. How’s the arm feeling today?”
I close and open my fist a few times and shrug. “A bit stiff but it’s okay. I’ll do the exercises the doctor gave me and it should loosen right up.” She nods and rolls onto her back, stretching her arms overhead. I drag my eyes over her body as she groans. She turns around suddenly, holding a hand to her mouth. She sits up and swings her legs over the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?” I say, concerned.
She shakes her head and slowly lowers her hand. “It’s nothing. Thought I might have to run to the bathroom but I think I’m safe.”
“You should really get that checked out, Sam. Is it the nausea again?”
She nods her head and takes a deep breath. “It usually passes within a couple minutes. I don’t want to go to the doctor for something so small.”
I shake my head and run my hand over her stomach. “It’s not small, Sam. I’ll take you. You could have a stomach bug or something.”
She nods slowly and then turns to me suddenly. “Oh! I forgot to say on Friday, I spoke to Margaret. She agreed to let you come and do a show for the kids. Can you come tomorrow night?”
“Sure,” I answer. “I’ll let Pat know. Did she agree to the partnership with him?”
“She said we could have you there for an afternoon or two and see how the kids react. She liked the idea of the balloon animal lessons and juggling lessons.”
I grin. “Awesome. Pat’s gonna be over the moon, he’s been looking to expand the non-profit business of it into something like this for years.”
I wrap my arm around her and pull her in for a kiss. I nuzzle my head into her body and she giggles when I kiss her and blow air over her neck. She wraps her legs around me and I lift my head to see that look in her eye—that look that makes me hard every time I see it.
“I love waking up next to you,” I say. Sam’s eyes soften and a smile tugs at her lips. She nods.
“Me too,” she whispers.
“Stay tonight. Don’t go to work tomorrow,” I say.
Sam smiles. “I can’t, you know I can’t. I have to leave in a couple hours.”
“The past couple months…” I start. She holds up a hand and puts it over my lips.
“I know. I didn’t think I could be this happy so soon after the divorce.” I smile and bring my lips to hers. We kiss softly and my cock throbs between my legs. She feels it and wriggles her body, laughing and wiggling her eyebrows.
“What do we have here?” she purrs. I don’t even have time to answer. Our bodies are already intertwined and connected and once again I make love to the most incredible woman I’ve ever known.
32
Samantha
After a fitful sleep at Jess’s house, I wake up and rush to the bathroom. For the past couple weeks, every time I wake up I have the worst nausea I’ve ever felt. After emptying my stomach into the toilet bowl, I take a deep breath and flush the toilet before brushing my teeth. When I open the door, Jess is standing there with her arms crossed and her best mom face on. She raises an eyebrow and looks me up and down.
“Get your shoes on, we’re going to the doctor.”
“What! No, it’s okay. Jess, I’m fine. It’s just a stomach bug or something.”
“Stomach bugs don’t last two weeks. Come one. Owen!” she calls out. He answers from the bedroom. “Watch the twins, I’m taking Sam to the doctor.”
“Okay!” comes the answer. She tuns to me and nods her head.
“Come on.”
There’s no arguing with that tone of voice, so I nod and get my shoes and purse. I check my phone, expecting to see something from Dean.
“That’s weird,” I say as I join Jess by the front door. “Dean is supposed to come to the organization today and do a clown show but he hasn’t messa
ged me. Usually he’d send me something in the morning.”
“Maybe he’s busy,” she says as we walk out to the car. When we’re in it, Jess turns it on but doesn’t drive off. She turns to me and takes a deep breath.
“When’s the last time you got your period?”
I frown at the question. She doesn’t think that I’m….?
“I’m on the pill,” I say. She nods slowly.
“And you’ve been taking it every day?”
I chew my lip and stare at my hands. “Well, there was a bit of a mix-up a few weeks ago and I forgot for a couple days. But I took the ones I missed! I spotted a bit but then everything is back to normal. I’m supposed to be on the sugar pills next week.”
She nods slowly. “How many days did you miss?”
“Jess, I’m not pregnant. I’m on the pill!”
I finally lift my eyes back up to her and her brows are drawn together. She shakes her head. “I told you to be careful, Sam. I warned you.”
“I’m not pregnant!” I repeat. “And please don’t say ‘I told you so.’ I can’t deal with that right now.”
She nods. “You’re right, I’m sorry. Let’s just go to the doctor and see what they say. I’m here for you.”
My throat tightens and I nod in response. We drive in silence and my mind starts clouding with a hurricane of thoughts.
Pregnant?
I can’t be. I’m not pregnant. I’m on the pill! How could I be pregnant. Sure, I got a bit sloppy taking it when I was going back and forth between her place and Dean’s. I forgot my pack in my room and went without for a couple days. But that wouldn’t cause pregnancy… would it?
My doubts only increase as we make it to the clinic’s waiting room. Jess sits with me and thumbs through a magazine as I check my phone again. Still nothing from Dean, even after I sent him a text. He hasn’t even been online since last night.
I sigh just as another patient walks in with a cup of coffee. The smell hits my nose and I feel my stomach heave. I run to the bathroom and for the second time this morning, I get to know the toilet bowl more intimately than I want to. When I walk back out, the doctor is calling my name.
The rest of the appointment is a blur. From the moment the doctor says ‘pregnant’, I cease to hear anything except my own heartbeat in my ears. I don’t see anything except the stark white walls and that picture of the digestive system that every doctor seems to have in their office.
I sign something, and I leave her office with some pamphlets. Jess says something to me and I think I have a follow-up appointment, but to be honest I can’t make any sense of it. It’s like I don’t speak English anymore, or I’ve suddenly lost the ability to understand anything that’s said. Jess takes me by the arm and guides me back to her car, all the while saying things that I don’t understand. They sound vaguely comforting, but they bring me no comfort.
I stare straight ahead as we drive back and finally Jess stops talking. My eyes shift down to the pamphlets in my hands. I look at the pictures of smiling expectant mothers and try to read the words but they blur together. When we pull up to the house, I get out of the car mechanically and make it to my bedroom. I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the wall for a moment, or maybe longer. I don’t know.
It’s not until Jess knocks on the door frame that I’m snapped out of my daze. I look over at her and she hands me a steaming mug of tea.
“You okay?”
I nod. “I think so. I mean. I don’t know. Jess…”
“I won’t say ‘I told you so,’” she says with a smile as she sits down beside me. She wraps an arm around my shoulder and squeezes me into her. “Everything is going to be okay. Whatever you decide to do, it’ll be okay.”
“What do you mean, ‘whatever I decide to do’?” I look over at her and see the pain in her eyes. Her eyebrows knit together and she takes a deep breath.
“With the baby,” she says, almost in a whisper.
It takes a few seconds for me to understand what she means. Once it sinks in, I sit up a bit straighter and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.
“I’m keeping it,” I say, almost too loudly in the small room. She squeezes my shoulder gently and nods.
“Okay.”
She doesn’t need to say anything else. Suddenly I’m shaking, and the tears are starting to fall down my cheeks. She squeezes me close and I let myself melt into her, letting her rock me back and forth and making comforting noises as I sob on her shoulder. It’s not until I feel a small hand on my knee that I open my eyes to see Michelle staring up at me.
Her tiny face is filled with concern, and she spreads her arms towards me. I laugh through my tears and pick her up. She places a big, sloppy, two-year-old kiss on my cheek and pats my head. I laugh again as Jess chuckles and strokes Michelles hair.
“You’re going to have a little cousin soon. Auntie Sam is having a baby,” I say to her. She looks at me with those bright blue intelligent eyes and I turn to Jess. “I swear she understands everything we say.”
Jess laughs. “She does. So will yours.”
A thrill passes through my stomach and I move my hand across my abdomen. I look down and take a deep breath. I’m going to be a mother. The next thought makes me stiffen and I struggle to keep my breath steady.
How am I going to tell Dean?
33
Samantha
I check my watch and glance at the door. My boss, Margaret, is throwing me a look and raising her eyebrow and I take a deep breath. I was a few minutes late to work and now Dean is as well. It’s not looking good.
“Come on, Dean, where are you?” I say under my breath. He’s late, and it took a lot of convincing to get Margaret to agree to have him do a clown show for the kids at the after-school program.
Finally, the door bursts open and dozens of heads turn towards the door. Dean appears in full costume, bursting through the door and pretending to fall over. He does a full flip and lands on his feet as the room full of kids burst into laughter. A few of them get up and run to him and I get to watch him do what I saw the very first day we met.
It’s one of his best performances, and I slide over to Margaret whose face softens a little bit.
“He’s good, right?” I say as Dean starts his balloon animal bit. Margaret’s face looks like it’s fighting not to smile. She nods once.
“He’s not bad. We’ll see how it goes.”
With that, she turns to a nearby child and I look at Dean. I give him a subtle thumbs up and he winks at me before turning back to the kids. I sit back and start watching the show. A soft smile plays on my lips as I watch him captivate the children’s attention and make them laugh and giggle with every move. Maybe everything will be okay. He obviously loves kids, maybe he’ll want to have one of his own.
I’m so engrossed that I almost jump when Margaret touches me on the shoulder.
“Someone’s here to see you,” she says, nodding to the door. I frown and nod at her before heading towards the front door. For some reason, my heart starts beating a bit harder as I push the door open and glance down the hallway.
That’s when I see her.
A chill runs down my spine as she turns to face me. She’s taller than I am, and in her six-inch heels she towers over me. She’s wearing a tight, fitted grey dress with a sharp white blazer. Her black hair is silky and straight, and it sways when she turns towards me. Her heels clack on the floor when she steps in my direction, and she stretches her hand out to shake mine.
When our palms touch, I have to stop myself from recoiling. Something in her eyes fills me with a deep sense of unease. Her lips curl into a smile that seems jarring against her other features, like her face wasn’t meant to smile.
“Samantha,” she says. “So nice to finally meet you.”
“Do we know each other?” I ask, already knowing the answer. She laughs melodically and shakes her head. Her long hair sways with every movement and her eyes drill into me.
“You sho
uld stay away from him,” she says slowly. My heart starts thumping and my chest feels hollow. I stand my ground and take a slow breath, trying to understand what she’s saying.
“Who?”
“Your new boyfriend,” she replies with venom. “You should stay away from him. He isn’t what he seems, and he’s just going to break your precious little heart.”
“What do you know? Who the fuck are you?” I ask, squaring my shoulders. I feel silly in my no-nonsense shoes, hair pulled into a messy bun as she stands up straighter and towers over me, exuding wealth and poise. She lifts an eyebrow and almost snarls at me.
“In the end, he’ll choose his family. Wealthy people always do. We’re not like the rest of you.”
I almost choke as I try to respond. “The rest of us?!” She shrugs.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“Who are you?”
Instead of answering, she turns around and walks out of the building. I watch her hips sway from side to side, and see her slide on a pair of sunglasses as she pushes the door open. Relief washes over me as soon as she leaves the building and I turn back to the main room. The kids start flowing out as I walk back in, calling out goodbyes and see-you-tomorrows as they rush past. My tense body starts to relax and I head back inside.
Margaret and Dean are talking, and she starts laughing. I look at Dean and shake my head. Only he would be able to make her laugh within minutes of them meeting. They turn to me as I walk up to them.
“Samantha,” Margaret says. “Dean and I were just discussing the details of our arrangement. Dean said he could get a couple performers, and we could start clown classes as soon as next week.”
“That’s great!” I exclaim. “The kids seemed to enjoy it.”
“I’ll be in touch with more details,” Dean says. Margaret nods and walks away. I squeeze Dean’s arm and grin at him.