That didn’t change the fact that regardless of what I wanted and how I felt, I needed to tell him about the baby. Not because I wanted to trap him but because it was the right thing to do. I just needed to make him aware that I wanted nothing from him. I would raise this child alone.
I was also motivated to tell him because of my brother. Leo was going to go bat shit crazy too but for a different reason than Shay. I wouldn’t be able to hide my expanding stomach forever and once he realised, he’d go after him. I had no doubt that he would and I dreaded to think how that would go if I didn’t tell Shay I was pregnant before my brother confronted him.
I fought the rising nausea which was beginning to make my life hell at random times of the day. The whole morning sickness thing was a crock of shit. I could throw up any time of the day. It didn’t have to be morning. Of course right now with my stomach churning over what I intended doing, it was no surprise I felt like being sick.
Keeping my any time of the day sickness from Leo was proving challenging. I don’t care how hard a person tries. Vomiting quietly is just about impossible. I’d become good at it though and so far had avoided detection. The only thing he really seemed to notice was my eating habits, or lack thereof. Nausea was not a good companion to a healthy appetite. One certainly did not go with the other. I knew Leo was aware I wasn’t eating properly but so far he’d been uncharacteristically silent while observing me pushing food around on my plate.
Focusing on my image in the mirror I spent some time putting on makeup so I wouldn’t scare the man half to death with my zombie paleness. It was entirely caused by morning sickness. It was the prospect of seeing Shay and dropping my little bomb on him that washed all the colour from my face.
Once my makeup was on, I dressed in a pair of black leggings, a long sleeved deep purple top with an asymmetrical hem and low black heels. I grabbed my handbag, checked I had my purse and keys, and headed out to the living room.
My heart dropped when I saw Leo. There was no way I’d get past him without him asking where I was going. He’d been fussing over me a lot lately and I knew that no matter how hard I’d tried to hide my scattered emotions from him, he’d still noticed.
Maybe it would have helped if he’d thrown me a bone sometimes and mentioned Shay, but he rarely did. All I knew was they weren’t going out prowling for women together any more. From what he said, they only saw each other at the gym. I couldn’t figure out why and I had no intention of asking Leo either. He’d only get suspicious of why I was asking. I just hoped that I wasn’t responsible for a cooling of their friendship but I know with all that happened following the night I’d spent at Shay’s, that things had become strained between them.
“Where are you off to?” His eyes lifted from the TV to mine as I walked into the living room.
“What are you now, my keeper?” I asked, keeping my tone light.
He frowned. “No, I’m not. Just curious sis. You haven’t been yourself for a while, and I know Shay kind of fucked with your mind a bit but I’m glad you’re going out. It’s the first time you’ve done something that isn’t work in weeks.”
I tried not to let him see my relief. He wasn’t about to give me grief for going out. If anything he was happy about it. Of course he probably wouldn’t be smiling if I told him where I was going though. Still, he didn’t need to know that. Eventually my secret would be revealed to all, even him. One thing in life was guaranteed. It was impossible to hide a pregnancy.
“I’ll see you later.” I smiled heading for the door and Leo mumbled his reply, his eyes already back on the TV.
It took me nearly an hour to get to Shay’s home due to getting myself lost along the way. Even after pulling out my phone and using the GPS on it I still missed the final turn off to his street. Clearly my navigational skills were lacking when I had to drive at the same time.
When I finally pulled up outside his home I was surprised by the bland, very ordinary exterior. It was like a façade that hid the true gem I knew it was on the inside. Glancing around I realised the homes around here, beach and riverfront holiday homes all looked much the same and I suspected Shay had opted to keep the outside in keeping with the neighbouring houses.
Seeing his place in the cold light of day caused my stomach to dip alarmingly and I was forced to lean out of the open door of my car, sucking in deep breaths as I fought not to vomit into his gutter.
Gathering up what little composure I had left, I climbed out of my car and locked it before beginning the walk along the pathway that led to Shay’s front door. Each step I took made me feel like I was walking the green mile and by the time I made it to the couple of shallow steps that brought me to his front verandah, I was visibly shaking.
Before I could overthink things and perhaps turn tail and run like hell, I knocked on the door and waited. I waited and waited, and nothing. I knocked again and waited and the longer I waited the more I tried to talk myself out of being here.
After several minutes of knocking and waiting, I had to concede that Shay wasn’t home. I’d driven all the way here and he wasn’t even home. I had to be sure though. It was an hour’s drive back to Hobart and that was reason enough not to leave without being completely convinced he wasn’t here. The obvious way to be sure was to check his garage. If one of his cars was gone, then clearly he wasn’t home.
Glancing around I looked for signs of life in neighbouring homes, not wanting to be caught snooping around or perhaps looking like I was casing the place with the intention of robbing it. Nothing would be more embarrassing or humiliating than to be arrested by the cops if an over-zealous neighbour thought I was breaking in.
Following the front of the house, I headed towards the garage. There was no window on the side closest to where I stood but maybe there was one around the other side? Hopefully not one of those little narrow ones where I’d need something to stand on to see in through it.
Still concerned someone would see me and think I was up to no good, I made my way around the side of the house and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw a long window that ran down one side of the garage. It was narrow and high but not so high I wouldn’t be able to see inside.
I tip toed up to it although I wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like Shay was going to pop up from behind the bushes or something and ask me what the hell I was doing. Still, the thought of him or anyone doing that was enough to have me scanning the area again for potential nosy neighbours. Seeing nothing, I continued on my path to the garage window and put my hands on the timber frame that surrounded it.
When I stood up on my toes to look inside I saw his Ford and Porsche which meant he was either home but ignoring me or he’d gone out, but not in one of his cars. Maybe he just hadn’t heard me? Maybe he was around the back? I hadn’t seen the back of his house after all. He’d taken me inside from his garage the last time I’d been here and I hadn’t really seen much besides the bedroom of course. Even then my focus had been more on Shay than his décor.
Stepping away from the window I continued to walk around towards the back of the house and gasped when I saw how short a distance his home was from the beach. It was so close the end of his yard and the beginning of the sandy strip kind of blended and merged together, blurring the lines so I wasn’t sure where his property ended and the beach began.
Turning my back on the view I walked towards the wide timber stairs that led to a large back deck. When I reached the top of the stairs I got to see just how magnificent the deck was. It ran the full length of the house and was so wide it accommodated a huge outdoor setting, barbecue and even a generous sized hot tub that was mounted flush with the timber boards.
The back of the house had the massive floor to ceiling windows I’d looked out of the night I’d been here. I’d missed the amazing views though, due to it having been dark at the time. Seeing the house in daylight now I realised parts of the living room was actually made up of large French doors, not windows. It was obvious that the intention was to merg
e the indoor with the outdoor when they were open.
On suddenly shaking legs I walked towards them, feeling every bit the intruder I was right now. I peered in through a couple of the floor to ceiling windows but couldn’t see anything until I moved to a window near his kitchen. It was then that I spotted something that made the blood run cold in my veins. I could see feet. Prone. The feet of a man lying on the floor. They weren’t moving and all my earlier nerves vanished when I realised something must be wrong with Shay.
Looking around, I knew I had to find a way into his home, and I crossed my fingers that he wasn’t the type of person to keep everything locked even when he was home. I rushed to the French doors expecting them to be locked, but surprisingly I met no resistance and wrenched one of them open, rushing inside and straight to the feet I could see, my heart pounding.
I practically skidded on my knees across the polished wooden floor in my efforts to get to him as quickly as possible. It was only when I got close enough that I saw how pale he was. His complexion had a greyish tinge to it and I felt my stomach roll with a return of my nausea as I looked down at him.
“Get a grip Lyla. This isn’t the time.” I reprimanded myself as I slowly reached out and touched a hand to his cheek. He was warm so my overactive imagination could calm down. Clearly he wasn’t dead but as I turned my hand, placing the back of it against his skin, I realised he wasn’t just warm, he was burning up. Shay was sick.
“Shay?” I called to him, my voice shaky and I touched my own cheek when I realised the warm wetness I felt were unexpected tears rolling down my face. “Wake up Shay…please.” I begged.
I gave a huge sigh of relief when he groaned, his long lashes fluttering against his cheeks before his eyes opened and he blinked several times as if trying to clear his vision. I stared into his silvery blue eyes but they were clouded and vague as he tried to focus on me.
“Ly…Lyla?” A sob escaped my lips when he said my name. He knew it was me although his voice was so rasping and hoarse I barely recognised it.
“I should call an ambulance. You’re sick.” I brushed my fingers softly through his hair and it was then that I noticed a small pool of blood on the floorboards under his head. “Jesus…you’re bleeding.”
Shocking me with the sudden movement he turned his head to face me and a hand shot out, grabbing at my arm. “No – no ambulance – no doctor.”
“Shay, you’re sick and you’ve hit your head. You’re bleeding.” I tried to reason with him but he ignored me, instead pulling himself up until he was sitting on the floor. Before I could stop him or help him he somehow managed to get the rest of the way onto his feet. Silently cursing his stubbornness, I scrambled up with him, my hands out, ready to catch him if he fell. The way he was swaying, it was a real possibility.
“I don’t want a fucking doctor.” He snapped although his tone lost some of its aggression when he groaned, his hands coming up either side of his head. I could see he was in pain but given the amount of blood in his hair, my guess was, he was probably in more pain than he was letting on.
“Fine, then let me clean you up and get you to bed.” I suggested. “Have you taken anything? You’re obviously sick and have a fever. You’re burning up. Let me help you.”
“I don’t like taking pills. I’ll be fine.” He took a step forward and I hovered over him when he looked like he was going to end up on the floor again.
“Men.” I rolled my eyes. “Stop being so damn stubborn you stupid man. You need help and you need pills. A couple of pain pills won’t kill you. Leaving you with a high fever is far more serious. Leaving you to fend for yourself when you’re clearly sick would be remiss of me. Like it or not, I’m not leaving you until I help you. So stop fighting me on this one. I’m in better shape than you right now and you won’t win this battle. I will.” I warned him.
He glared at me. “Anyone ever tell you your bedside manner sucks?”
Strangely his words struck me as funny and before I could stop myself I laughed. “Maybe that’s because we’re in the kitchen, not the bedroom.” I shot back ignoring the way he continued to glare at me from his position, propped up against the island bench. “You’re a terrible patient so we’re even. Now, when did you shower last? You’re all sweaty and you have blood in your hair. I think it would make you feel better to get under the nice, warm water.”
He frowned but it must have hurt him because he clutched at his head again. “Fuck…fuck.” He muttered turning pain filled eyes on me. “What day is it?”
“It’s Friday.” It was my turn to frown. “How long have you been like this?”
His eyes narrowed and I couldn’t tell if it was from pain or he was thinking. “I don’t know. Forever. It feels like fucking forever. A few days I guess. I started off feeling tired but it just kept getting worse and now I feel like complete and utter shit.” He sagged more heavily against the benchtop.
“Come on, bed for you.” I grabbed his arm. “We’ll forget the shower. I’ll wash you. You will feel better once you’re clean.”
“I don’t need you doing anything for me. Why are you here Lyla?”
I swallowed noisily, hoping he didn’t notice. Now was definitely not the time to bring up why I’d come here. “It’s nothing. We’ll talk later.”
I took his arm and began to lead him across the room towards his bedroom. It was a slow walk. He couldn’t take anything more than a few steps before he was exhausted and had to rest. He was still really pale other than hectic colour in his cheeks and I knew he probably needed medical help but he’d been so adamant that I not call one.
When we finally made it to his room I took one look at the crumpled up mess that was his bed and knew he couldn’t hop back in it like that. He needed fresh sheets. Sheets that weren’t sweat dampened.
“Your bed needs changing. Where can I find linen?” I asked and he mumbled something while pointing out towards his laundry. “Wait here.” I told him and almost snorted at the absurdity of my comment. He was hardly in any kind of shape to go anywhere other than maybe ending back up on the floor. He looked really sick and I wondered what might have happened to him had I not come to his home and found him.
Hurrying from his room I crossed the living room to the laundry and quickly found fresh sheets to put on his bed. Back in the bedroom I felt a moment’s panic when I couldn’t see Shay. Scanning the floor I was relieved to not find him lying passed out on it but I still needed to find him. There weren’t a lot of options in here besides his bathroom or walk through robe.
Walking around the corner into his open style bathroom I found him sitting on the closed toilet seat, his head between his hands. I wanted to go to him but I needed to change his bed, so I left him and started stripping the sheets from his mattress.
Shay
Through the fog of pain and fever I tried to figure out why Lyla was here? Coming to, on my kitchen floor and seeing her was like seeing an angel. She’d looked so beautiful that for a moment I really did think I must have died and she was an angel. That was until the fog began to clear and I remembered all the reasons why she had ruined my life. Seeing her again brought my confusion rushing back. Smelling her fragrance made me want her all over again. Not sexually right now. I could barely stand unaided let alone fuck her, but she stirred up all the memories that had driven me crazy over the last couple of months. She was my heaven and my hell all rolled up in one stunning package.
I dropped onto the toilet seat, my head in my hands in an effort to ease the pounding which felt like my brain was trying to squeeze its way out through my ears. I felt like shit and I felt even worse that Lyla was seeing me like this. God I needed to shower but I seriously didn’t trust my legs to hold me up long enough to do that. I wasn’t sure I could handle the alternative though. To have her hands all over me as she bathed me would be an exercise in torture.
“You can come back to bed.” Lyla’s voice washed over me and I lifted my head wincing when the throbbing pain intensified a
gain.
I dragged myself upright, swaying a little and Lyla rushed forward, her arm circling my waist to offer me support. It was a joke really. If I went down she’d have no chance of holding me. I’d only end up taking her with me.
When we got to my bed the sheets were pulled back. There were a couple of towels spread out on the mattress and I noticed a bowl of water, a wash cloth and towel on the bedside table. Fuck – she was going to bathe me.
“Oh hell no.” I backed up and only succeeded in running into Lyla. I spun around to her, swaying alarmingly when the room began to spin. “I don’t need you to bathe me. I’m not a baby.”
She rolled her eyes at me as she grabbed my arm to help steady me. “You are sweating and let’s face it, you smell. Those shorts you’re wearing are damp from you sweating into them. I know you feel like shit now but getting clean will make you feel so much better. I know you’re not a baby.” She stopped, running her eyes down the length of me. “You are however, acting like one. Trust me, you haven’t got anything I haven’t seen before.” She motioned towards the bed. “Now I suggest you strip out of those shorts and lie down on the bed and stop arguing with me. Like it or not I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. Not yet anyway.”
Fuck! “Fine.” I snapped, sliding the sweat soaked shorts over my hips until they fell to the floor around my feet. Trying hard to ignore her so my cock wouldn’t betray me and reveal to her what she did to me, I climbed onto the mattress and lay down, rolling onto my stomach. She could bloody well start with the back of me. That should give me time to get my body under control so I didn’t get a hard on under her touch.
I could tell she didn’t move straight away and I lay there, tense, every muscle locked up in my body, waiting for her to touch me. When she finally approached the bed, I heard the sound of water running back into the bowl as she squeezed out the wash cloth she’d had soaking in it. I turned my head to watch as she squirted some liquid soap onto the cloth and my muscles that I thought were already locked up as tight as they could lock up, surprised me by tensing even more. She was killing me and she hadn’t even laid a hand on me yet.
Sex God Page 20
