When Laurel was busy with her brother, I pulled my father aside. “Dad, can I talk to you and Mom at your place tomorrow?”
My father placed one hand on my shoulders and nodded. “I’d be surprised if you didn’t show up tomorrow. It’s time for you to learn everything about your past so you can move on with your future.” He looked toward Laurel and we both nodded in understanding.
I was furious when I first learned of his involvement in keeping my past a secret, but I understood why. Once I placed myself in his fatherly shoes, I realized I would’ve gone to any lengths to protect my child, adopted or not, from the truth. Especially if the child’s aunt had asked me to keep quiet.
Laurel and I passed quickly through the kitchen and out the back loading ramp of the hotel to the limo. Thompson drove back towards the front, where the entrance was mobbed with TV and newspaper vans, along with police trying to calm everyone down so the other guests could leave. I just hoped, for all of our sakes, the stories tonight and tomorrow would be honest.
Thompson drove us past the throng of people surrounding the outskirts of the Waters Towers and into a private entrance to the garage, where we were able to take an elevator up to the penthouse. At least the media took my no trespassing rule to heart and were camped out across the street from the building. They’re in their rights to do that, unless the owner of that property has them thrown off.
I knew I was being overly cautious, but with Laurel so early in her pregnancy, I didn’t want to risk the added stress it might cause her or the babies. Call me overprotective if you like, but my family and the ones I loved came first and I’d do anything to make sure they were okay. I even had other members of my security team go over to the benefit to make sure our families were able to get out of the event safely, without having to be subjected to the scrutiny of the press.
Laurel seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as soon as we were inside the penthouse. She looked amazing in her dress. I couldn’t keep my hands off of her bare back in the ballroom and her exposed leg in the car. She was the one thing that calmed me and I desired her more than anything else in my life, but I wouldn’t press, given the day we’ve had.
“Would you like to take a bath together or would you rather us turn in for the night?” I asked as I led her up to our bedroom.
She laid her purse on the nightstand by our bed, then turned towards me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and whispered so close to my lips, that I could feel her breath across my face, “A soak would be nice, but right now I just want to get out of this dress, feel the warmth of your skin pressed hard against mine, and let the night take us where it may.”
Damn, my woman knew how to turn me on in a heartbeat. I was already at semi attention, but now she had me rock hard and wanting out of my clothes as quickly as possible.
I wasted no time in stripping myself bare. Her eyes grew big as she realized the power her words had over me.
Now it was her turn. My hands found the side zipper of her dress as my tongue grazed up her neck to the back of her ear, where I sucked on her skin. “Do you have any idea how desirable you looked in this dress tonight?”
I bit her lightly as she moaned, “No.”
I grabbed her hand and moved it down to my cock. “You feel how much I want you?” Her fingers circled round me as I shoved into her hand. I could smell her arousal as I pulled the dress over her head. I looked down at her panties to see them soaked through. My God, I’m a lucky bastard; already wet and ready for me.
I was thankful she hadn’t been able to wear a bra with this dress. It was one less thing I had to contend with. Her breasts looked amazing, already ripe and heavy with desire, her tightly beaded nipples just begging to be sucked. I couldn’t wait to remove her bikini underwear. I grabbed both sides and ripped them away, startling her as I plunged a finger into her folds and found my way to her opening. She was so wet and ready, my finger easily slid right in, catching her by surprise as she yelled out, “Ahh, yes!”
I withdrew my finger and let her watch me suck her essence off of it. It was a taste I began to crave more and more, even dreaming about it sometimes. Before she knew what hit her, I had her in my arms and on the bed.
I was a little disappointed when she rolled onto her side as I crawled into bed. She looked over her shoulder with hooded eyes and said, “Come closer, lover.”
Yes, ma’am!
My arms circled around her, pulling her back into my front. I moved her hair out of the way as my lips and teeth nipped and sucked all along her jaw line, down her neck, and across her shoulders while my hands cradled her breasts, tweaking her nipples into hardened points. I let one hand drift down to her mound, where my fingers parted her folds. I began to rub her clit.
The multi-sensation I was trying to use on Laurel seemed to be working. She was wiggling up against my cock, driving me to the brink of insanity if I didn’t sink into her soon. “Are you ready for me, darling?”
“Take me now, please!” she yelled out in desperation.
I lifted her leg back over my hip as I drove into her center, sinking myself balls deep. Her walls tightened around my cock, making me still so she could acclimate to the full feeling. She began to rock against me and that was my cue to let go. I loved how she clenched against me as I pulled out and pushed back in, as though she were trying to suck me deep into her soul without letting go. The connection kept getting more intense the more we came together.
I knew Laurel liked it fast and rough at times, but tonight I wanted to just lose myself in her, so I took it slow. I felt her orgasm start to build and would back off a bit, wanting to prolong this feeling with her. She was getting flustered, I could tell, so I began to rub her clit, which made her even wetter. I felt her drip down her legs and onto mine, which drove me to the point of insanity. I increased my speed and my need to claim her, knowing my seed would soon be deep within her, despite her already being pregnant. Call me a caveman if you want, but it calmed me knowing that I’d marked her as mine.
She screamed out, “Oh, yes, Garrett!” as her walls began to tighten and pulsate around my dick, pulling me right into my own orgasm. I shoved hard into her three more times before spilling everything into her. I continued rubbing her clit to lengthen her orgasm and ground into her to ride out my own.
My lips kept kissing her shoulder, her face, her neck, until she finally turned her head towards me where I could kiss her lips and mouth. “You have no idea what you do to me, for me, sweetheart.”
A small smile spread across her lips. “I’ve got an idea, because you do the same to me.”
We stayed connected and wrapped up in each other’s arms as she slowly began to drift to sleep. Today had been a long day for her and I knew she needed her rest. I waited until soft snores escaped before sliding out of her and out of bed.
I didn’t want to leave the comfort of our post-coital bliss, but I needed to make a few phone calls, rearrange some plans, and see what, if anything, was currently being broadcast about my revelation tonight.
I grabbed a pair of sleep pants and a t-shirt and headed downstairs. I’d just managed to get to the bottom of the stairs when Dillon charged forward.
“We’ve got a few problems, sir.”
I’d spent the past several hours rearranging our Thanksgiving plans for the next few days, while listening to some of the television accounts of “Who is Garrett Andrews Waters?” The media that had been inside the ballroom had kept to the accuracy of the announcement, thankfully, but the gossip rags and smaller media were going on the accounts of Walt Peterson.
One rag read, “Waters Medical Industries headed for downfall as head of company has been parading around as the head of HR and bagging every skirt in sight. Loose morals and falsified persona will lead investors to pull accounts with company.”
Another read, “Garrett Andrews is actually G.A. Waters. He’s lied to his company, he’s lied to the public, has he lied to his fiancé, too? He’s marrying a new hire with questionable moral
s. According to Walt Peterson, owner of Peterson Securities in Camden, New Jersey, Laurel Hart shagged his son in college and tried to accuse him of rape.”
The more I read and listened to, the hotter my blood boiled. I was ready to show Walt Peterson that he was messing with the wrong person. I called my head lawyer, Scott Temple, and asked him his advice.
Scott had been waiting for my call and was prepared with some suggested solutions. I didn’t like several of them, but saw that he was right; a controversial bomb was growing within the media and I needed to diffuse it immediately.
“Laurel won’t like this,” I warned him, “but we’ll do it tomorrow afternoon at my parents’ house, with your choice for media. I don’t like invading their home, but I’ll be heading over there first thing in the morning anyway for family business.”
“I’ll get right on it, Garrett. I’ll call you back as soon as I have a confirmed time. Hang in there we’ll get this nightmare straightened out. By the way, congratulations on the engagement. H-have you thought about a pre-nuptial agreement with Laurel?” His voice was shaky, knowing that he’d overstepped his bounds.
“Damn it, Scott! I won’t discuss the possibility of one with her. She’s the most trustworthy person I know and whatever I have, I already consider hers anyway, so don’t even go there. What’s mine is hers, end of story!” I knew my voice was raised, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Sorry, I’m just looking out for you. I get it, though. I feel the same way about my wife. I’ll go and see what strings I can pull and call you back soon.” Scott’s voice sounded apologetic.
“Thanks. I owe you, Scott.”
It was easing close to one in the morning when Scott called back. “We’ve got you set up with exclusive rights for The Today Show. I couldn’t get an afternoon time, because they want the story live and on air tomorrow. If you want to counter some of the media as it’s being released, you need to strike early. They want you at your parents’ house by 7 A.M., ready to go for a live feed at their 8 A.M. slot. We already have another camera crew headed to the other interviewee. She’s more than happy to help set the record straight and bring down the Peterson family.”
“You’ve done some wonderful work, Scott. I’m going to pass you over to Thompson to get all the details finalized, and he’ll inform you of our other plans.”
Thompson took the call with Scott and I let Dillon know I was turning in for the evening. I advised that they do the same, since we had an early morning ahead of us.
When I reached our bedroom, it was empty. I checked the bathroom to see if she was nauseous again. I hadn’t passed her downstairs, so that meant she was either still on the second floor or she ran again. I felt my heart rate accelerate as the panic to find her kicked in. Where the hell is she?!!
I checked all the rooms on the top floor, including the living quarters for security and Deidre, but there was no Laurel. I was about to call Dillon, when a thought entered my head. “I love to pound the drums and piano when I’m stressed.”
I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier, since we share the same interests. The music room was my favorite escape when I just needed to let loose and lose myself in a song. My hand went hesitantly to the doorknob. Please be in here. I can’t take it if you’ve run from me again.
As soon as the door opened, I was met with the most beautiful tune on the piano. The melody went from soft to loud, to ethereal and back to intense. If I’m not mistaken, I thought she was playing Beethoven’s “Für Elise.”
I stood in awe of her skills. It was the first time I’ve ever heard her play. I knew she said she took lessons, but I had no idea how talented she was. As soon as she finished the piece, she rested a moment before starting again, so I took the opportunity and clapped.
She jumped. One hand went over her heart as the other grabbed hold of the piano bench. “You surprised me.”
I walked over and wrapped my arms around her. “I’m sorry. I just never knew how amazing you were with music. Do you mind if I join you in a duet?”
“You know this song?”
I nodded and sat down beside her, placing my hands on the keys and waiting for her to make the first move. The music intensified as I added the accompaniment to the piece. We worked together in harmony, until the piece was done.
Laurel looked up at me, with tears building at the corners of her eyes. “The Petersons are already slandering us, aren’t they? Do we have to do an interview tomorrow?”
I couldn’t hide anything from her. Somehow I knew she’d already figured it out. I took a deep breath in, trying to figure the best way to tell her. “I’m afraid the answer is yes to both. Most of the media is reporting accurately, but there have been some defamatory statements made by Walt Peterson to both of our persons that will require a rebuttal on our part.”
She leaned into my chest, wrapping her arms around my middle. “What time and with whom?”
I’d never seen Laurel so short and to the point, but something in the last couple of days had changed her. Could it be the focus on our babies that suddenly made her headstrong? I didn’t know and I wasn’t about to ask. I was just happy to have her by my side.
I pulled back and lifted her face up with my hand so I could see into her eyes. A couple of tears escaped. “It’ll be okay,” I assured her, wiping the tears away with my thumbs. “We’ll get through whatever life throws at us.” My lips pressed to hers in what I thought would be a chaste kiss, but she deepened it by thrusting her tongue into my mouth and I latched on as though I was starving for her affection.
In between kisses, I managed to get out the time, location, and that we should think about getting some sleep soon.
“We can sleep after the interview tomorrow,” was her response. “Right now, I just need to feel you close.”
I was never so thankful to have locked the door in my life. Before long we were naked and lost to the throes of passion atop the piano bench, with her riding me.
An alarm went off, causing me to jump, finding myself back in our bedroom. The last thing I remembered was the duet Garrett and I played on the piano and the wonderful compellation of sexual acts on the bench. I would definitely be visiting the music room again to play and be played. Damn, if I wasn’t turning into a minx. I’d read that in the second trimester, the sexual hormones can sometimes kick into overdrive and I definitely wanted to see if that was true.
I heard Garrett grumble something and slap at the snooze button. I sat up and looked to see what time it was. That was a mistake, because as soon as I turned my head, the nausea started immediately and I was running to the bathroom, with him right on my heels.
As soon as I was dry heaving, I rinsed my mouth out and took the medicine that he had waiting for me by the sink. “Thank you, but you don’t have to do this all the time, Garrett.”
“Don’t you know that I would do anything for you?” He came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my middle. His hands kept circling my stomach as he kissed my shoulder and worked his way up to my neck. “You’ve given me something to look forward to, a life together, where I’ll have a family of my own.”
I didn’t want him to stop, but I knew we needed to get moving and I really wanted to brush my teeth before he tried kissing my lips. There’s nothing like barf breath to kill the mood.
The morning passed quickly and we were soon sitting in the living room of Garrett’s parents’ house with a camera crew, getting ready to go live with The Today Show in New York. I’d hoped to wear one of the dress suits I wore to work, but I was discouraged when I couldn’t zip up the skirt. Instead, Garrett picked out a navy dress with a flared skirt that hid my little bump, white piping on the sleeves and neckline, and a small white belt at the waist.
I was in a daze with all of the activity around us when I heard, “We’re live in 3, 2…” and then all the lights were ablaze and the red light on top of the camera glowed.
A newswoman, I couldn’t remember her name because she wasn’t pa
rt of the normal lineup on The Today Show, started speaking. “Good morning, everyone. If you’ve been up for a while, you’ve heard the news that Garrett Andrews, Head of Human Resources at Waters Medical Industries, is in fact G.A. Waters himself. We’re here at Mr. Waters’ parents’ home to get the exclusive from the man himself.”
The camera swung over to include us in the shot as the reporter turned in our direction. “There are several versions of why you posed as Garrett Andrews,” she said seriously. “Most of the media seem to be reporting similar accounts of your story; however, Walt Peterson, owner of Peterson Securities, has essentially called you a liar, raking both your reputation and your fiancé’s across the coals. Why did you lie to everyone, parading around as another person? Are Mr. Peterson’s claims valid and why is he out to get you? What do you have to say to that, Mr. Waters?”
Geez. Nothing like being put on the spot. I was glad that Garrett asked me to just sit there and be supportive. He advised me to choose my words carefully when asked a question, and think of every way the media or the Petersons could potentially twist what I had to say, destroying my reputation for honesty and integrity.
Garrett was quick to speak up, offering a similar version of what he stated last night at the benefit. The reporter agreed that he had been honest and could see how the stress of the media could push one into hiding. He admitted the reason he chose the benefit to do his reveal was the threat of slanderous lies from Mr. Peterson, had he not outed himself. “I wanted to ensure everyone knew the honest truth and not someone else’s warped version of it.”
The reporter looked down at her notes, reading them line for line. “So you’re saying that Mr. Peterson’s statements, and I quote, ‘Garrett Waters is nothing more than a deceitful liar and a thief. He’s marrying one employee and sleeping with others. Miss Hart was a harlot during her college years, using and abusing my son, and apparently still is a money grabbing hussy of questionable morals,’ is nothing more than an attack of your character? Please explain why Mr. Peterson would want to attack you like this.”
Learning to Love Again Page 6
