The Non-Commissioned Baby

by Maureen Child

  “Like me?”

  “Single, career oriented.”

  “Ah...”

  She wasn’t quite sure how to interpret that last comment, so she left it alone. “All I’m saying is that I’m sorry. I, better than anyone, should have remembered what it’s like to have your life’s plan splintered in one quick blow.”

  She hadn’t meant to give him that much information. It would have been too much to hope for that he would ignore it.

  “What happened to your neatly arranged world, Laura?” he asked, his voice dropping to mingle with the deep, fluid notes of the music swelling around them. “What little bombshell did Fate drop on you?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she said. Laura didn’t want to explain about Bill. For some reason, she felt as though this moment, this night, belonged only to her and Jeff. Not even memories were welcome. “This is about you, not me.”

  His features tight, worry lines deepened at the corners of his eyes and between his eyebrows. His mouth a grim slash, she knew he wanted to ask her more questions. But Laura was through talking about herself. Determinedly, she went back to their original subject, hoping he would leave her past where it belonged.

  “You would be a good father,” she said firmly.

  He frowned, clearly not happy with the shift in the conversation. But he went along with it. “Yeah? What makes you so sure?”

  “Because you’re already worried about doing the job right. A bad father wouldn’t care either way.”

  He seemed to think about that for a long minute. Then slowly, the muscle in his arm relaxed. Reluctantly, she let her hand drop to her side.

  “Maybe,” he finally said, his gaze caressing her face. “I don’t know.”

  “You’ll see.” She wanted him to believe her.

  He lifted one hand and smoothed her hair back from her face. The pad of his thumb stroked her cheekbone, sending a trembling response through her body.

  “Don’t misunderstand me,” he told her, his voice as soft as his touch. “I’m not saying anything’s changed. I’m still not convinced that Miranda being with me is the right thing for her. Or me.”

  Laura stared at him, confused. Hadn’t they just been discussing that very thing? “But I thought—”

  “I know,” he said, and let his fingertips trail along the length of her throat. “And I appreciate what you said. But this is a big decision, Laura. One I’m not going to make overnight.”

  It wasn’t fair of him to touch her while talking to her about something this serious. She couldn’t concentrate. All she could do was feel. It had been so long, she thought, her eyes sliding shut. So long since anyone had touched her like this. So long since she had wanted a man’s touch.

  But it wasn’t just any man she wanted, she admitted silently.

  It was this man.

  She moaned softly at the realization.

  For eight long years, she had kept her heart, her emotions carefully locked away. After Bill’s death, she had buried her wants and desires. She’d thrown herself into her work, satisfied with teaching and loving other people’s children.

  Now, suddenly, it wasn’t enough.

  Maybe it never had been.

  Jeff stepped in closer to her, as if sensing her surrender.

  His hands moved to her shoulders, and she felt the warmth of his touch right down to her soul. The dark corners of her heart were filled with a searing light that banished shadows and illuminated desires.

  Moonlight poured through the window, bathing them both in a pale ivory glow. A new song drifted from the stereo. The rock guitars had given way to a slow jazz piano and a soulful saxophone. The plaintive notes of the horn sounded like stereo sex.

  Hot, slow and mesmerizing.

  She swallowed heavily.

  His right hand dropped to her waist. “Dance with me,” he whispered.

  Laura knew she should say no. As vulnerable as she felt at the moment, the safest place for her to be was somewhere far away from him. But she couldn’t refuse. Already, her body was surrendering to the seductive music.

  Sliding her left hand up onto his shoulder, she stepped into his embrace. Her right hand caught by his left, she felt the surprisingly erotic sensation of their palms brushing together.

  He began moving in a slow, tight circle. He swayed slightly with the rhythm of the music, and she moved with him. His arm around her waist tightened, pulling her closer to him. Her breasts flattened against his chest, she felt his heartbeat thundering in time with her own.

  Her knees weak, Laura’s breath caught when his denim-clad thighs rubbed her bare legs. His right hand slipped to cup her bottom, pressing her tight enough to him that she was aware of his own need and knew it was as powerful as the sexual flames licking at her center.

  The sensuous music rose up and around them, drawing the two of them together, into a net built of the breathless desire shimmering between them. Shadows and moonlight shifted around her as she stared up into his eyes. Her breathing shallow, her heartbeat quickened even further until her pulse became nothing more than a thundering roar in her ears.

  She knew the moment he decided to kiss her. She read it on his face and realized that this was her last chance to escape. In the same instant, she admitted silently that she didn’t want to run. For the first time in eight long years, she wanted to feel.

  If only for one night.

  Then he bent his head to hers, and all thought stopped. His mouth dusted across her lips gently, tentatively. Drawing his head back, he looked down at her, his features tight with an emotion she didn’t want to explore too closely.

  One dance ended and another began.

  He stopped, and moved his hands to cup her face. Then he kissed her again, and from behind closed eyes, Laura saw the bright flash of exploding stars.

  He parted her lips with his tongue, his breath invading her mouth even as his kiss conquered her soul. Laura groaned quietly and leaned into him. A film of tears burned her eyes as a sweet ache began to grow within her.

  He grabbed her and pulled her hard against him. Laura’s arms wound around his neck, and she pressed herself as tightly to him as she could. Her hardened nipples throbbed for his touch. Her knees weak, she sagged into him as his tongue continued to plunder the defenses she had maintained for too long.

  Jeff broke the kiss and bent his head lower, dragging his mouth along the line of her throat, tasting her pulse beat beneath his teeth. When she sighed and tipped her head to one side, allowing him access, he muffled a groan against her neck. His body aching, he inhaled her scent and knew he would carry it with him always.

  The magic in her kiss was like nothing he had ever known.

  Her skin was as soft as he had imagined it would be. Her fingers tugged and pulled at his shoulders, holding him tightly, silently urging him on.

  Lifting the hem of her nightshirt, his right hand dropped to explore the curve of the bottom he had dreamed about so often. When his palm encountered only smooth, warm flesh, his breath was trapped in his lungs.

  Straightening slightly, he looked down at her, an amazed half smile on his lips. “Here I’ve been trying to imagine what kind of lacy delight you were wearing under this hideous shirt—” he shook his head, stunned “—and you’re not wearing any underwear at all.”

  She looked insulted. “Of course I’m wearing underwear.”

  “But...” He ran one hand over the bare flesh of her behind. It was only then that he noticed the tiny thread of fabric lining the cleft of her bottom. His fingertips smoothed across it, following it down. Shaken, he whispered, “A thong?”

  She shivered as his fingers explored her, but finally, she nodded.

  “Good God,” he murmured huskily, his mind providing the image it was too dark to see. His groin hardened until he thought he might explode. “What color?”

  She rose up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. “Red.”

  “You’re killing me, Laura.” He groaned then and reclaimed her mouth, his tong
ue dipping in and out of her warmth in a hunger that built with each passing moment.

  Scooping her up into his arms, he carried her to the sofa and sat down with her on his lap. Kissing, tasting, nibbling at her bottom lip with his teeth, Jeff reveled in her, exploring her body as thoroughly as he had dreamed of doing for days.

  Sliding his hand up under the hem of her nightshirt, his fingertips encountered the scrap of red lace that was his undoing. He didn’t need to see her. All he needed at the moment was to touch her.

  She arched into his arms, her legs parting slightly for him. Devouring her mouth with his, he slid his right hand beneath that bit of lace and down to the damp heat that was at her core. Laura trembled in his arms as his hand cupped her.

  Stirred by her response, Jeff drew his head back to look at her. He stared down into her face while slipping his fingertips farther, deeper into the secrets she guarded with lace barriers.

  “Jeff,” she whispered brokenly, and licked her lips with the tip of her tongue.

  Something inside him shifted, but he swallowed back the groan of hunger roaring through him.

  She lifted her hips when he dipped first one finger and then two deep within her. His breathing short and shallow, he indulged himself in her. In counterpoint to the raging desire coursing through his bloodstream, he explored her slowly, lazily. Her heat burned him; her passion fed his own. He bit back another groan as he watched pleasure steal across her features.

  Again and again, his fingers moved within her, forcing her higher, faster as she strained to reach the completion awaiting her. Dipping his head, he kissed her, needing to taste her mouth and feel the intimate connection of their tongues mating.

  Her response was instantaneous. Her tongue twisted and brushed around his in a silent erotic dance. She gave and took, submitted and conquered.

  Gently but firmly, his thumb stroked across the small, sensitive nub of flesh. Her body jerked in his arms. She broke the kiss, moaning his name in a tearing whisper.

  Her fingers clutched at his shoulders. Her body writhed in his arms, and when the first violent tremors shook her, Jeff felt the force of them himself. Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as her hips rocked frantically against his hand. He claimed her mouth again in desperation, swallowing the last of her cries and using them to muffle his own.

  Laura lay across his lap, feeling practically boneless. Relief shimmered through her even as inside her body, tiny, rippling convulsions still trembled on. She’d never experienced anything like that before. Had her climax been so overwhelming simply because it had been so long since her last one?

  No, she decided, not without a pang of guilt. It was more than that. As much as she had loved Bill, he had never taken her so high...made her feel so much.

  Instantly, that small sliver of guilt blossomed and grew. What was she thinking? How could she possibly compare what she had had with her fiancé to what she had just experienced? She had loved Bill. Hadn’t she?

  Of course she had. If he hadn’t died, they would have been married eight years now. She would no doubt be the mother she had always longed to be. And she would be having regular, loving sex with her husband.

  No doubt, with practice, she assured herself, their lovemaking would have become every bit as stimulating as—she bit down hard on her bottom lip—as stimulating as this first time with Jeff had been.

  Oh, goodness, she thought, a sinking sensation developing in the pit of her stomach. If his hands alone could drive her above and beyond anything she had ever reached before, what might his actual lovemaking do to her?

  Slowly, she tried to straighten up on Jeff’s lap. Tugging at the hem of her nightshirt, she scooted her hips back and instantly gasped as a new rush of sensation poured through her. His hand was still cupping her, his fingers still deeply rooted within her passage.

  “Laura,” he whispered, his breath brushing against her cheek. “That was—”

  “Please don’t say anything,” she interrupted him.

  “I have to,” he continued, and dropped a quick, firm kiss on the corner of her mouth.

  Deep inside her, Laura felt the strength of his fingers, pressing against the walls of her body. Unbelievably, her muscles contracted around his hand, drawing him in, welcoming his touch. It was as if she had no defenses against him.

  “Jeff,” she managed to say, and grabbed his hand, hoping to stop him. “This was a mistake,” she said, and knew it for the understatement of the century.

  He lifted his head and smiled gently at her. “The only mistake we made was waiting so long to try it.”

  “No,” she said even as his thumb brushed across that one incredibly sensitive spot again. “Oh!” Her breath caught as her body exploded into need again. No, it couldn’t be. Not so soon. Not after what she had already experienced.

  “Laura,” he said, claiming short, damp kisses to punctuate each word, “this is special. This is right.”

  “No.” She had to argue. This couldn’t be right. If it was right, then what had she felt for Bill all those years ago?

  “Yes,” he insisted, moving within her, touching, stroking.

  Her hips ground against his hand. Beneath her bottom, she felt the solid, thick ridge of his need pressing into her. He had given her release. He had taken her to heights she hadn’t known existed, all the while ignoring his own clamoring desire.

  The night pressed down on them. Music, low and full, surrounded them. Laura, knowing that she would regret this later, reached for the button at his waistband.

  He sat perfectly still, his gaze locked with hers. “You don’t have to, Laura.”

  But she did. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with should haves and would haves. Tonight, she wanted to feel everything she had denied herself for eight long, lonely years.

  Leaning into him, she covered his mouth with her own, teasing him with long strokes of her tongue even as her fingers quickly undid the button fly of his jeans.

  He sighed into her mouth as she took him in her hand. Her fingers caressed the hard length of him and gently rubbed the tip of his erection. His body tensed beneath her. His fingers dipped in and out of the liquid heat at her center.

  When he finally groaned, pulled his hand free of her and in one quick move, yanked her red thong off and threw it onto the floor, she was beyond ready. His hands at her waist, he turned her on his lap until she was straddling him, their faces only a breath apart.

  Kneeling on the sofa, her hands on his shoulders, Laura slowly lowered her body onto his. Inch by slow inch, she took him inside. His hands at her waist tightened, his fingers digging into her flesh. She sighed and moved on him again, rocking her hips slightly until she had welcomed him fully into her depths.

  Laura’s head tipped back. Her eyes closed, she concentrated on the incredible feel of him locked deeply within her. She twisted her hips in a slow, torturous pattern, moaning softly at the overwhelming sensations sputtering through her.

  Jeff whispered her name and slid his hands up under her nightshirt, then pulled it off over her head. He tossed it to one side and captured her breasts with his palms. His thumbs rubbed at her hardened nipples until her breathing staggered.

  As he tugged and pulled gently at the rigid peaks, Laura moved on him. Her hips lifted and lowered as expectation built low in her belly. She knew it was coming. Knew how overpowering it would be. And she raced toward it, eager to feel it again. To ride the crashing waves of satisfaction as they thundered through her.

  Jeff watched her. Moonlight dusted across her flesh, dazzling her in a pale glow that made her seem like part of a dream. But if this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

  Reluctantly, he dropped his hands from her magnificent, full breasts. Grabbing her hips, he guided her into a quicker rhythm. Each time she took him inside, it felt like the first time. Each time she lifted herself from him, he died a little.

  She raised her head and looked at him. He saw the swirl of passion dancing in her eyes. Her f
eatures tightened. Her back arched. Her lips parted, and she cried his name aloud as a shuddering climax claimed her.

  Her interior muscles contracted around his body. He groaned and held her down on him tightly as he exploded into her warmth.

  When it was over, Laura sagged against his chest. She felt his arms go around her and was numbly grateful for the support.

  Every muscle in her body was almost liquid. Yet at the same time, she felt more alive than ever before. Her head on his shoulder, Laura listened to the ragged gasps of his breathing and knew that she wasn’t the only one so completely affected by their lovemaking.

  Lovemaking.

  No, she couldn’t think of it like that. This was sex. Pure, simple, glorious sex. Lovemaking had been what she had done with Bill, the man who would have been her husband.

  The passion she shared with the man beneath her had nothing to do with love. It was something much more basic, more elemental than that. Lust, she supposed, was an old-fashioned word. But it certainly seemed to fit the situation.

  Suddenly uncomfortable, Laura eased herself off of Jeff and groped in the darkness for her discarded nightshirt. When she found it, she immediately pulled it on.

  “Laura,” Jeff said softly. “I think we should talk about this.”

  She was profoundly thankful for the shadows filling the room. At the moment, she didn’t want to be able to see his face too clearly. Shoving her hair back from her face, Laura glanced at him, then averted her gaze again, instead looking in the grayness for the thong panties she’d been wearing.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said. Spotting the tiny triangle of lace and elastic draped over the arm of a chair, Laura got up from the sofa to retrieve it.

  Her knees were weak, and her body ached in places that hadn’t been used in years. She stumbled a bit, caught herself and went on. Snatching up the red lace, she crumpled the pair of panties in one fist.

  Her underwear, tossed across the room by a man caught up in the throes of passion. Good Lord, what had they been thinking? What had she been thinking?

  He stood up and came around the coffee table to stand in front of her. He had already adjusted his clothing. To look at him, no one would guess what had just happened between them.