by SC Daiko
Gabe coats the tips of his fingers with lube, lifts my balls upward, and skims over my hole.
“Fuck, yeah,” I hiss, closing my eyes. I clench my teeth and a muscle twitches in my jaw.
He eases a finger into me.
“More…” I demand. “More…”
“Greedy bastard,” he chuckles.
He adds another finger. “I’ll always have more for you... always have more for her.”
Say it, Gabe! Say you love her!
I relax my shoulders into the bed as he sets up a steady rhythm, fucking me with his fingers and being sure to swipe over my spot on each inward pass. I groan as a tremor quivers through my body. My knees tighten against my torso. He continues to work me with one hand while slathering lube over his own engorged dick with the other.
“I want to be inside you, tiger. I need it.”
“I need it too,” I groan.
He pushes another finger into my hole, and my muscles grip him. I moan and toss my head from side to side. He pushes in faster, harder, knuckle deep. “Fuck me, lover,” I grunt. “I don’t wanna come with your fingers. I want your fucking cock.”
He withdraws and shuffles his body until his dick is lined up at my hole.
I draw up my legs, clutching the backs of my thighs and tilting my pelvis.
He forges into me, opening me up around his thick shaft. He rams to full depth until our balls are slapped together. “Argh,” he grunts.
“So fucking good,” I groan.
He withdraws a little then pushes back in.
I reach for him, pulling him into a kiss and holding him close, my arms and legs wrapped around him. My cock is trapped between us, stiff and swollen, craving release. “Gonna come, can’t stop it,” I groan. I palm Gabe’s face and stare into his eyes. “Come with me!”
I shoot my load between our bodies as Gabe jerks inside me. We kiss as we come, moaning into each other’s mouth, swallowing our grunts of pleasure.
He rolls off me, onto his back. I bend and lick my cum off his abs, tasting my salty musk. “Dirty boy,” he chuckles. “I’m not going to return the favour.”
I glance down at the state of my own belly and smirk. “I’ll have a wash before we go to sleep.”
I nestle against him, kissing his shoulder. This man, this awesome man, means everything to me. I’d never do anything to hurt him. Not consciously. And he’d never do anything to hurt me. But the time has come to get our love for Eleri out into the open.
“Eleri loves us,” I tell him.
“You think so?” There’s uncertainty in his voice.
“She loves us like we love her,” I say. “How can she not? What we have together is incredible.”
He shifts position on the bed and gazes into my eyes. “You love her?”
I return his stare and nod. “I do.”
He laughs, and it’s a laugh of relief. “Well that’s good because I love her too.”
“I knew it,” I snicker.
“You did?”
“Shit, Gabe. I know you inside out.”
“I didn’t want to say anything in case you didn’t feel the same,” he smiles at me.
“Well now you know, we just have to fess up to Eleri.”
He lifts a brow. “Are you sure she loves us?”
“Positive,” I say.
Fuck, I hope I’m right.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
ELERI
I WAKE WITH a start, an uneasy sensation in my stomach. I put my hand between my legs to feel for any blood. Just my usual dampness, but I need to be sure. I go to the bathroom, switching on the light before sitting on the bowl. Heart stuttering, I take a deep breath and stare at my PJ bottoms. Clean, thank God. I return to my bed; I’m wide awake and thoughts flit about inside my head like moths around a flame.
When Gabe came up to see me last night, he told me about everything that had happened at Sharon’s and apologised for not taking my concerns about her seriously. The things she’d said to him! My jaw had practically hit the floor. I knew something wasn’t right, only I never imagined it was so serious. Why had she kept her hysterectomy secret? Not sharing about it probably exaggerated her paranoia. Being able to bear children must be fundamental to her psyche. And her husband’s lack of understanding made things a million times worse.
Gabe was so nice about our baby. He seemed genuinely happy to take responsibility along with Luke. At one point, he’d appeared to be about to say a whole lot more, but had shut down before doing so. He’d held me gently, as if I might break, and he’d said he could see I was tired, that I needed to rest for the baby’s sake, and we’d talk in the morning.
I place my hands on my tummy. So much has changed in twenty-four hours. Yesterday morning, I wasn’t sure I was pregnant. Wasn’t sure how I’d react if I was. Wasn’t sure how Luke and Gabe would react.
I frown and scrunch my nose. Why are Luke and Gabe so stoked about me being pregnant? It must have been a shock, totally unexpected, but they’ve welcomed it. Oh God, what if they’ll want the same kind of arrangement with me as they had with Sharon?! I mean they’re a two-parent family, have plenty of money, and the baby would be raised with his or her brothers.
I suddenly feel the need to be with them, to reassure myself, to feel the warmth of their bodies, to breathe in Gabe’s spicy musk and Luke’s fresh ocean scent. I reach for my phone on the bedside table: six thirty. They’ll be waking up soon, showering, having breakfast and then setting off for work.
I tiptoe downstairs to push open the door to their room. Quietly, I burrow under their duvet and crawl up the bed until I’m lying between them. Gabe turns towards me and opens his eyes. “Good morning, sweetheart. All well?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “So far so good.”
“I’m taking time off work,” he says before kissing me on the forehead. “So you can rest.”
My heart gives a little flutter. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Gabe. But thank you. I really appreciate it.”
Luke stirs on the other side of me. “Morning, babe. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I smile.
“We missed you last night,” he winks.
I bet they did.
He stretches and yawns. “Time to get up.” He laughs. “Some of us have to work.”
We shower together, as per our routine. I love how they pass me between them and soap me all over. They won’t let me reciprocate this morning, telling me they need to restrain themselves. Their concern for me is heart-warming. Or is it just concern for the baby? Argh!
“We’ll make you a special dinner tonight, Eleri,” Luke says as we dry ourselves off with fluffy white towels. “There’s something Gabe and I would like to tell you. Something important. Something we don’t wanna rush.”
“Oh?” My tummy lurches. I wish they’d tell me now. They’re going to ask me to sign over my rights to the baby, I know they are. They’ll question how I can possibly bring up a child on my own, and make me an offer they think will be difficult to refuse. I flutter with nerves and worry; it’s freaking killing me.
GABE TAKES MATTY to nursery school. Rosie is bound to ask about me, and we’ve decided he’ll say I’m not well… a return of the tummy bug I suffered in September. I’m up in the playroom with Jack, sitting on the carpet with him while he plays with wooden building blocks. Oreo is perched on the couch, his green eyes watching every movement. My mind is a jumble of anxious thoughts. Maybe I should come right out and ask Gabe? Put myself out of this misery? Except, I might still miscarry the baby and I don’t want to put myself through the stress of an argument.
The central heating is working overtime today; the weather has turned wintery. Soon it will be Christmas. I hope I’m still be here to celebrate with Luke, Gabe and the boys. They won’t want me with them, though, when I refuse to go along with their plan. I’ll have to return to Wales and manage on my own. Oh, God…
“Eleri,” I hear Gabe call out as he comes through the front door. “Would
you like a hot drink? Tea? Coffee? Cocoa?”
“I’ll come down,” I shout. “Jack could do with a glass of juice and I’ll just have water.” I’ve gone off coffee and tea; they make me feel nauseated.
Jack squeals, “Papa,” and runs to the stairs. He’s getting good at negotiating the steps, but still ends up bumping down the last flight on his cute little nappy-padded ass.
Gabe pulls out a chair for me and lifts Jack into his highchair. He hands him a juice-filled Sippy Cup and some apple slices. Oreo has followed us; he goes to his bowl and starts munching dried food. A lump catches in my throat at the cosiness of this moment; it pains me that it might all be coming to an end. I swallow hard.
“An idea occurred to me on the way back from Matty’s school,” Gabe says, stirring sugar into his coffee. “I’d like to pay for you to have private medical care. If you agree, I’ll phone a surgeon-gynaecologist I know of, and see I can get you an appointment. It will set all our minds at ease. What do you say?”
“You’d do that for me?” I try to appear grateful. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”
And I am grateful, of course I am, but I can’t help feeling cynical. If Gabe and Luke are going to ask me to sign over my baby to them, then of course they’ll want to give him or her the best of care.
I CAN’T BELIEVE I’m in a Harley Street consultant’s office only two hours after Gabe made that phone call. He’s managed to get me an emergency appointment and is waiting with Jack in the reception area; there are toys for kiddies and Jack is probably having a whale of a time. We agreed Gabe wouldn’t come in with me. He said it wouldn’t be fair on Luke if he were to experience a pre-natal visit without him. It’s like they’ve already slipped into expectant daddy mode; they probably went through this exact same routine with Sharon.
Sighing, I glance around the consultant’s office. It’s incredibly swanky in here, nothing like any doctor’s surgery I’ve visited before. There are leather sofas and beautiful marble tiles on the floor. Mr Fenwick is tall and has ginger hair with pale blue eyes. I remember surgeons are referred to as mister and not doctor, for some reason. He’s been really reassuring. “Bleeding is quite common in early pregnancy,” he’d said when I’d told him what had happened. “Small blood vessels are in plentiful supply, including around the softened cervix and in your vagina. They can easily rupture and bleed a little.” He gives me a caring look. “Because you aren’t in pain and have had no further bleeding, the signs are good.”
“I hope so,” I say, and it sounds a bit lame, so I add, “I really want this baby.”
“Good,” he smiles, and checks the notes his midwife gave him after she’d given me a preliminary examination and had taken details of my medical history and that of my family. “I see the date of your last period was mid-August. You’re nearly into your second trimester, my dear, when the chance of miscarriage is greatly reduced. I’ll get my technician to perform a scan to be certain, but I’m feeling cautiously optimistic.”
I want to hug the man I’m so relieved. “Will it affect the baby that I was taking the pill up until yesterday?”
“There’s been no evidence of any ill effects that I know of.” He gets up from behind his desk and points to the examination table on the far side of the room. A dark-haired nurse is standing next to it. “Linda will help you stretch out.” He presses a buzzer. “My technician is on the way to scan your uterus.”
After helping me onto the table and rolling down my leggings and knickers, the nurse rubs gel onto my abdomen and then the technician moves the transducer.
“Congratulations,” Mr Fenwick says, staring at the screen. “Baby is the right size for your dates. Everything looks normal. We’ll make an appointment for a check-up next month.”
My heart, my poor heart, practically flips out of my chest. “I’m actually going to be a mum,” I say, sudden tears of joy in my eyes.
“You are. Look at the image on the screen.” He points to what is clearly a baby. I can see a largish head and tiny arms and legs. Wow! “I’ll print the picture off for you so you can show the father,” he says.
The fathers, I nearly correct him, but stop myself just in time. Tears well in my eyes and a shiver goes up my spine; after tonight, my baby might end up with no father on the scene, let alone two. I knuckle the moisture from my cheeks and pull up my knickers and leggings.
Gabe throws his arms around me and kisses me on the cheek when I go up to him out in the reception room. We phone Luke with the good news. He’s ecstatic, of course. Gabe won’t let me show him the scan picture of the baby; he says he only wants to look at it with Luke. Is that what happened with Sharon? My tummy prickles.
Gabe insists I take the afternoon off. “Put your feet up, sweetheart,” he says, settling me on the sofa. “Read one of those romances you love. I’ll take Jack for a walk and we’ll pick up Matty from school on the way home.”
“Thanks,” I say, and my throat is scratchy as I speak.
“Papa,” Jack calls from downstairs.
Gabe bends and kisses my lips. “I’ve been summoned,” he laughs. “Have a good rest.”
Oreo jumps up onto the sofa and nestles next to me, purring. I read for a while, but I’m finding it hard to focus. I lie quietly, my hands on my tummy, and think my thoughts. I love Luke and Gabe so much. I love the way they care for each other. I love the way they seem to care for me. I. LOVE. THEM. I touch my tummy again. Pregnancy hormones are probably making me feel all mushy, and I tell myself to get a grip. Tonight’s talk will be a game changer, for sure. It’s hard, but I must remain focused for the sake of my baby.
LATER, AFTER DINNER, the three of us are sitting opposite the fireplace. Luke made a big fuss of me when he’d arrived home from work, presenting me with a gorgeous bouquet of red roses. The flowers are in a vase by the window, scenting the room with their heady perfume.
The fire crackles and I stare into the flames. “Thank you for a delicious meal,” I say. They’d cooked together after putting the boys to bed, grilling tender, juicy fillet steaks, and serving them with fresh broccoli and potato salad. “Food for the baby to grow on,” Luke had grinned. I’d eaten little, my stomach tied up in knots.
He and Gabe had cooed over the scan picture of the baby, saying how much they were looking forward to meeting him or her. Conversation had then turned to Matty and Jack, and they’d told me stories about when the boys were newly-born, showing me the pictures on their phones. It seemed like they were trying to impress me with tales of their parenting skills. I know why they want to do that; they want to take my baby. Well, I won’t freaking let them. I bunch my hands into fists, resolved to stand my ground. I might not be able to offer my child a posh home and a private education, but I’ll love my baby and do the best I can for him or her.
Gabe reaches under the sofa cushion and pulls out a document. “Know what this is?”
My blood turns cold. “Our agreement?”
Without warning, he throws it into the fire. “Null and void, I’m afraid,” he smirks.
“I broke it, didn’t I? I didn’t follow your rules.” I take a deep breath. “And now you want a new agreement like the one you had with Sharon.”
Hot tears well up, and I sob as my heart breaks.
Their arms come around me immediately. “We don’t know what you’re on about,” Luke says in a shocked tone. “Sharon was our surrogate.”
“And I’m not?” I wail.
“Legally, Luke and I will have no parental rights to the child unless you’re prepared to share him or her with us,” Gabe explains.
My tummy lurches. They do see me as another Sharon! A womb for their baby!! “No,” I say firmly. “How can you even ask me to sign over my child?”
He stiffens. “Eleri, you’ve completely misunderstood. We want to share parental responsibility with you. Not take it away from you.” He pauses. “We love you.”
He’s said it in such a matter of fact way, almost casually, as if loving me isn’t the mos
t impossible, inexplicable thing in the world. It rocks me to the core, and I’m speechless with shock.
“Hey, babe, we love you.” Luke gives me a nudge. “You’re supposed to respond.”
My heart does a stupid flip; I breathe out all my hurt, bitterness and fear. “I love you too.” It sounds lame, so I stretch my arms around their shoulders, pulling them into me. And we kiss, such beautiful kisses, tasting each other, loving each other. I lift my fingers to caress their handsome faces. They suck my fingers into their mouths, and then pepper kisses up my arms, up the side of my neck, and finally my mouth. Three mouths fused together, a triangle of love. We pull apart, panting, and dive in for more until we run out of breath and settle back on the cushions.
“I’m happy to share parental rights with you,” I say. “With both of you. I love the two of you together. You complete me.”
Gabe lifts my hand and kisses my wrist. “I’ve always thought Luke completed me, but he knew differently. He told me before you came down for dinner that he’d fallen for you almost as soon as you walked into our lives, our Little Miss Sunshine, but he had to bide his time until I realized how much you meant to me too.”
“Yeah,” Luke adds, taking my other hand and kissing my fingers. “The stiff rod up Gabe’s ass has meant he’s taken longer than me to admit to what’s in his heart. And then, he didn’t wanna fess up until he knew I felt the same. This love we have is triangular, do you get what I mean?”
“Yes,” and I do. I feel the same about them; we’re in this together or not at all. I smile. “So, what do we tell everyone? I mean, what do you tell your friends? What do I tell mine? And, more importantly, what do we tell our parents?”
“We don’t have all the answers, my darling,” Gabe says, holding me close. His hands roam over my back to my hips, up and down in circles. “Let’s just take one step at a time.”
