Swallowing, I look into his eyes. “I want to. I dream of our baby, Parker,” I whisper. I’ll never be able to carry my own child because of all the chemo I went through, but my eggs were frozen before I even started treatment at seventeen.
“Our baby,” he repeats. A smile reforms on my face and he follows suit. “You want to have a baby with me. I love the sound of that.”
My smile is so wide I can feel the tightness in my cheeks and jaw. “Yes. With everything inside of me, Parker, I want it. Like you said, there is nothing to worry about. I have an appointment in a couple months that will hopefully set my visits with Dr. Olson to every six months, and my heart is under control. I take my medication every day, my last two scans were clear, and my blood pressure is right on.” My words come out as if I’m trying to reassure myself, which, in a way, I am.
Or am I reassuring us both?
I’m in good health. There is no need to worry.
About anything.
“And later on, who knows? Maybe after we use my eggs and we’re ready for another baby we’ll look into adoption.” I’ve always been open to the idea of adoption, especially since my sister Genna is adopted.
I can see the tenderness in Parker’s eyes, see what he sees when he looks at me. The immense love he has for me.
For us.
“For the second time in my life you have made my heart stop. And for the second time in my life, you have made me the happiest man alive.” His words are confident.
I’m pretty sure my heart just stopped. To be certain it’s still beating I bring my hand to my chest and wait to feel the thumps. When I do, I smile. This is real. It’s all real.
He takes my hand and tugs me to his chest, holding on for dear life. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” I whisper back.
Over the next few days, we do a lot of research on finding a surrogate, but we quickly conclude that there aren’t that many choices in our area. The Mayo Clinic in Rochester has a program, but we want something more personal, so we confine our search to small agencies in the Minneapolis and St. Paul area.
I push my laptop away, needing a break. At Parker’s chuckle, I snap my head in his direction. He doesn’t even look up from his laptop as he shakes his head at me.
“What?” I ask with a hint of my own laughter.
“You.”
“What about me?” I tilt my head to the side. “Hmm?”
He looks up. “You’re cute when you’re frustrated.”
“Picking the right agency to find the woman who will help bring our child into the world is extremely important. One I’m not going to take lightly.”
He holds his hands up, grinning. “Hey, I agree. I just think it’s sexy, that’s all.”
“Well, then, I better get frustrated more often.”
He scoots his chair closer to mine. “Only if I’m the one who gets to make you un-frustrated,” he says slowly, and tiny chills spread through me. I love when his voice goes deep and sexy. That rasp drives me crazy.
“And how do you suppose you would do that?”
“I could think of a few ways …”
My eyes shift from his eyes to his mouth as he licks his lips. I love when he does that. As if he’s preparing himself for me.
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.”
He leans forward, joining his mouth with mine. My eyes close at the light impact. He starts the kiss out slow, only allowing me a small taste. When I can’t take his taunting any longer, I slip the tip of my tongue between his lips. We linger and explore. I have to keep myself from falling into him by resting a hand on the table edge. I can sense Parker doing the same.
I moan when the connection is broken. He’s watching me intently as he leans back in his chair.
“Why did you stop?”
“Because if I didn’t, I was going to take you right here on the table.”
I don’t see why that’s a problem. “I would let you.”
He gives me a devious grin. “Later, I promise. We have some work to do if we want to find an agency to meet with in a couple weeks.”
My last class is next week, so we agreed that the best time to set up meetings with the agencies we like would be after my last class and before my graduation in May.
“Okay, okay,” I grumble. I’m not too happy to stop the make out session with my hot-as-hell husband to continue looking at a computer screen, but I will if it means getting what I want.
I go back to the search engine, but stop. “What if this doesn’t work?”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s say we find an agency and they can’t help us? Or we find one, but we can’t find a surrogate we like.”
“We won’t stop until it does work.”
“And if it’s more expensive than what we’ve been researching?”
“Aundrea, we have enough in savings for a down payment with an agency, plus some. We’ll have to get the facts, of course, and all the numbers, but I’m sure we can work out some contract with payments or get a loan for what we can’t cover on our own. Besides, from what we’ve researched, this could take months, even years. We’ll just keep saving as much as we can.”
“I just really want this to work out.”
“It will.”
Now that we’ve started actually talking about having a baby, it’s all I can envision for us.
It’s all I want.
“Do you think we should tell our families? I mean, I’ve already told Amy.”
“I think telling our friends and families would be great. I’m not sure if we should tell your mom, though,” Parker jokes.
The woman likes to talk. If we tell her our plans my entire hometown of Northridge will know within a day. Easily.
“You’re probably right.” I giggle. “Maybe close friends only, along with Genna and Jason, of course. And we tell our parents once we have some news to share?”
“That sounds good. No reason to get their hopes up yet.”
“Agreed.”
Parker goes back to researching, but I decide to take a break and read something else. Something more … pleasurable. I love nothing more than getting lost in a good story, connecting with the characters. I’ve always found it fascinating how authors can bring a world to life.
The refrigerator door closes for the fifth time and Parker says, “How about I order some pizza? I’m not sure I’m in the mood to cook.”
“Sure!” I call back, not looking up from my Kindle. I’m not really hungry and, honestly, I don’t think I could eat right now even if I were. I’m that sucked in to my novel.
“Or maybe Chinese?”
“Sure.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
“Sure.”
“In that case, what about a cock sandwich?”
“Really, handsome, anything.”
His loud laugh fills the room. “What happened? What’s funny?”
“You.” His grin is anything but playful; it’s … naughty.
“What did I do?” I’m utterly confused.
“You’re so consumed by that book of yours that you’re not even listening to what I’m saying.”
“Sure I am. You asked what I wanted and I said anything.”
“And I gave you multiple choices, one of which I’m very eager for you to have.”
I purse my lips, trying to recall our conversation, but it doesn’t come to mind. When our eyes meet, he takes a step toward me and winks.
I’m screwed.
I give Aundrea the kind of wink that lets her know I’m not messing around. The kind I know sends shivers all through her.
“Parker.” My name comes out sternly and with warning.
I stride slowly toward her. This is an I-want-to-rip-your-clothes-off-right-here-right-now walk. I’ve had only one thing on my mind since she got frustrated earlier at her computer: having my way with my sexy wife.
“Anything, Aundrea?” Her breath catches at my whisper and her
lips part. Her legs fall open, welcoming me, and I don’t hide my devious grin.
“Uh-huh.”
I lick her full red lips, and I have to hold back the urge to lift her up and devour her right here. She tilts her chin up, trying to make better contact, but I back away swiftly. I do this a couple of times, teasing her. She pouts and groans in frustration when I don’t allow her to deepen the kiss. I love tormenting her.
Releasing her mouth, I trace her jaw-line with my tongue. When I reach the spot behind her ear, she shivers. I love that I can cause every single nerve ending in her body to tingle. “You should be more careful for what you agree to, Aundrea. It could get you into trouble.”
“I like getting in trouble with you,” she whispers back, closing her eyes at my touch.
I move abruptly, pulling her up from the couch. Her Kindle drops from her lap to the floor with a thud as her chest slams against mine. Our lips meet again, connecting us as one. I can’t hold back any longer. I need this woman like she’s my last breath. Her hands slip into my shirt, pushing it over my head. I’m greedy, hungry for her, running my hands all over her.
Breaking our kiss, I help Aundrea tug my shirt off, and toss it to the floor. When she reaches for my belt buckle, my hands land over hers, stopping her, and I push her against the wall, causing a hanging art canvas to fall next to us.
A soft cry of pleasure falls from her full lips at the impact and I catch it in my mouth. Our tongues connect and I cup her breasts through her tight T-shirt. Her nipples harden under my fingertips and desire swims through my veins. I can feel my blood coursing through my body, pumping loudly in my ears over our irregular breathing.
I want more from her.
I need more from her.
Breaking away, I pull off her shirt, leaving her in a pink lace bra and washed out jeans. I groan with approval and immediately put my mouth to her neck, hooking a finger in her belt loop to tug her closer. I dip my head further down, kissing every inch I can: her neck, shoulders, and cleavage.
“I’m going to take you right here,” I groan, pressing my hips into her.
“Yes,” she moans, letting her head fall back.
I kiss down her torso and along her abdomen, dropping to my knees. She runs her fingers through my hair, tugging me gently back up her body, but I resist.
I look up at her, resting my chin at the waist of her pants. When she looks down, her hair falls over her shoulders. God, she’s beautiful. Her eyes plead with me. Slowly, I unzip her pants, never taking my eyes off hers. When she closes them briefly and re-opens them, there is nothing but craving there. Her craving for me.
I tug her pants down and help her step out of them. Once her back is resting against the wall, I pull her thong down to her ankles, not bothering to take them all the way off.
The sound of her head lolling against the wall and the way she parts her legs lets me know she’s ready for what’s to come. Ever so slowly, I lick my way up her silky smooth skin. She tugs at my hair as I continue the soft strokes of my tongue along her wetness.
“Yes,” she breathes out.
Slipping inside of her briefly, then back up to where she’s swollen and aching to be touched, I move my tongue faster. Her breathing picks up, as does the tightening of her fingers in my hair. When her hips begin to rock against my face I can’t help but smile. I love her taking control, not holding back from getting what she wants.
Reaching behind her, I grasp both her legs at the knees to help brace myself. I continue to work in faster strokes, matching the rhythm of her rocking motion.
“That’s it, baby,” I manage between breaths.
“I’m … This … Oh, my … Don’t …”
I don’t stop. I continue until she is spasming against my tongue, taking in every bit that I can.
I trail soft kisses upward toward her mouth.
We lean against the wall for a while, kissing, letting our hands and mouths explore. Something I can do with my eyes closed.
“I want you so bad,” she stammers.
Aundrea unzips my pants and slips her hand inside, coming in contact with the soft cotton of my boxers. Just as her fingers brush against my arousal there’s a loud knock on our door.
“Ignore it,” I huff between kisses. We’re not expecting anyone that I can think of.
“I am,” she says breathlessly, pushing my jeans down.
The banging picks back up.
“Don’t answer that,” I say again, with more irritation.
“I won’t.”
The knocks stop and I smile between our kisses, thrusting into her hand. The pounding starts again, louder this time. “Don’t go,” she sighs with exasperation when I bend down to pull my pants back up.
I step around Aundrea and head to the door and Aundrea goes into the bedroom so she’s not seen standing in her underwear.
“What?” I snap, flinging the door open.
“Surprise!” Genna’s smile disappears and her voice goes flat when she sees my unwelcoming face. “Oh, is someone crabby?”
My head drops to my chest. She never calls before coming over.
“Is everything okay?” I’m beyond aggravated.
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Jason went in on a call and I was in the area with Hannah,” she holds up the baby carrier, “and thought I’d stop in. I talked to Dre earlier and she said you two didn’t have plans tonight. Is she here?” she asks hesitantly as her eyes dart over my shoulder.
Well, we did have plans. Or rather plans that were in process. Just as I’m about to tell her no, so I can get back to those plans, a quiet voice comes from behind me.
“Yes.”
I turn to see Aundrea fully dressed and let out an inner groan of dissatisfaction. Opening the door, I back away, allowing Genna to enter.
“What were you doing?” Genna asks as she steps around me.
Aundrea raises her eyebrows.
“Ohmigod, were you having sex?” she squeals. Yes, Aundrea’s thirty-one-year-old sister just squealed in my ear.
“No!” Aundrea exclaims, shocked by her sister’s bold words. Her cheeks flush a light shade of rose. God, I love that color on her.
Passing Aundrea, I trace the color with the back of my hand and she leans into me. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Don’t worry about it.” I press a lingering kiss to the top of her head before leaving her alone with Genna.
From the bedroom, I hear part of their conversation.
“What do you need, Genna? Where’s Jason?” Aundrea’s voice comes out clipped and I must admit I love her feistiness. I make a mental note to bring it out again later.
“He was on call tonight and went in to the clinic. I didn’t need anything—sorry. Like I told Parker, I was in the area and thought I’d pop in.”
“No, I’m sorry. It’s fine. I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. Come in and sit. We weren’t doing anything.”
I wouldn’t exactly say that.
“I know I have bad timing sometimes, but I figured it’s Friday night so you two would be up.”
“Yeah, your timing has never been the best.” Aundrea giggles and I smile.
“I’m making a mental note to always call before I come over.”
Please.
I quickly rinse out my mouth in the bathroom then stretch out in our bed, trying to relax from the interruption of our heated encounter. The soft pillow hugs me and I let my thoughts drift away from their conversation.
The memory of the morning after Aundrea and I met pops into my head. I haven’t thought about that morning in a long time. A slow smile forms at the thought of waking up to a loud bang and footsteps leaving my apartment—or, rather, trying to sneak away. I don’t think I’ve ever moved so fast in my life. I almost killed myself getting my feet in my boxers and crashing into the side of the bed. If it hadn’t been for my quick reflexes, I would have fallen.
Finding my apartment empty, with no luck in the hallway, I remember slamming m
y apartment door so hard I thought I knocked it loose from the hinges.
I laugh at the recollection. Breaking my door would have made me even more pissed.
A weak cry comes from the other room, and gets louder, bringing me out of the pleasant memory. Genna’s soothing voice follows.
Getting out of bed, I realize I left my shirt in the living room, so I take a white undershirt off the top of the tall folded pile of laundry. The same pile Aundrea promised she’d put away last week. Not holding my breath for that to happen.
I walk into the living room to find Genna sprawled out on our couch. Her feet are crossed at the ankle and her hands are resting behind her head. Aundrea’s walking in small circles singing a made-up lullaby to Hannah, who’s wrapped securely in a blanket.
In a few short strides, I close the distance to Aundrea and wrap my arm around her waist. I look down at the cute little peanut all snuggled up. She’s blowing bubbles and cooing at the buzzing sound her lips make.
“She seems content now.”
“Auntie Dre has her,” Genna says, giggling.
Aundrea always said she wanted to spoil her sister’s kids, and believe me when I say she’s spoiling Hannah. She watches her every chance she can get, holding her until her arms can’t take it any longer, and buying her anything that—according to her—is “cute and girly.”
She’s a great aunt. A natural, really. She has a way of knowing what Hannah needs before she cries for it, a way of calming her, and an overall aura that glows around her whenever Hannah’s in her arms. This is why I know she’ll make a wonderful mom.
I give Aundrea a quick peck on her temple.
“Either of you ladies want a sandwich? I’m going to make one.”
“No, thanks,” they reply together. Sometimes it’s scary how much they sound alike, given how different they are.
Once I’ve piled meat and cheese on my sandwich to perfection, I rest my shoulder against the doorframe and watch my wife.
Aundrea continues to smile and sing to Hannah. I am transfixed by her. Even in a plain T-shirt and jeans, hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head, and no make-up, she’s the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I take in every curve of her body, the outline of her mouth, the freckles that are perfectly placed on her cheeks, and every strand of her thick beautiful hair that falls around her face. She’s just as beautiful as the day I made her my wife, if not more.