Love Child (8 page)

I
f Abel hadn’t gotten
me pregnant last night, it wasn’t for lack of trying. I remembered seeing the sun starting to break over the horizon when my eyes finally closed, my body a spent, sated heap.

His child was inside me though. I could tell. Whether it was a sixth sense or a mother’s knowledge, I knew I was pregnant with Abel Lockwood’s child.

I’d known from the start that we’d always be connected via this child, but what I hadn’t expected was the connection I felt with Abel directly. Last night had been about more than our bodies colliding; our souls had as well. Some part of him was inside me now. The same was true for me being inside him.

Abel and I were connected for the rest of our lives in more ways than the baby that was currently growing in my stomach.

After all of the horror stories I’d heard from my friends about their first times, I’d been expecting last night to be sloppy and painful and a total letdown.

It couldn’t have been any more the opposite.

Abel must have known what he was doing because even after the numerous times we’d made love, I was still hungry for his body this morning when I woke. Sure, I was a little sore, but not enough to make me shy away from his hard shaft when it settled between my legs. It was a good kind of sore. Reminding me every time I moved of what I’d done to earn it.

When I woke, Abel wasn’t in bed. I guessed he was probably somewhere on his computer working even though it was a Saturday. Something told me Abel Lockwood’s work ethic didn’t acknowledge weekends.

A grin stretched into place when I felt the soft cotton of his shirt draped around my body. It smelt like him and clung to my body the way he had last night. After our last round, he’d gently washed the area between my legs before slipping me into one of his undershirts to fall asleep in—I’d never slept naked and wasn’t sure if I could, especially with his naked body wrapped around mine. After making sure I drank some purified water to rehydrate and swallowed a pain reliever to help ease my soreness, he tucked me into his bed and held me close the whole night.

I’d never known better sleep. Not even back home after a hard day’s work.

Shuffling out of bed, I headed for the kitchen. In addition to last night making me exhausted, it had left me famished too. Just as I’d decided on making some breakfast burritos for the two of us, I rounded into the kitchen to find someone else busy at work.

He beamed when he saw me. “Hungry?” he asked, flipping what looked like a crepe on a sauté pan.

My hunger was forgotten when I got a good look at him. He was wearing those same pants I’d seen him in the other night, practicing his Tai Chi, and nothing else. From how low they hung on his hips, I knew he wasn’t wearing anything beneath those pants either.

“Hungry for
something
,” I said, biting my lip.

Abel’s eyes darkened when he let his eyes roam my body from the place his shirt was skimming my thighs to my nipples poking through the material. He got back to focusing on the crepe. “Food hungry first.
That
hungry after. It’s extra important you take time to eat now.”

My eyebrow lifted. “Because I’m eating for two now?”

Abel shrugged. “Or three. With as many times as I took you last night, with as much of my seed as I drained into you, your belly’s going to be full of my babies.”

My hand reached out to the doorway to balance me. The things he said and the way he said them made me dizzy. In the best kind of way. “One at a time. I’d prefer not to be known as the woman who gave birth to a litter of babies.”

His head tipped. “A litter of babies. I like the sound of that.”

Laughing, I moved inside the kitchen. “Of course you do. You’re an animal.”

I came up behind him and wound my arms around his stomach, leaning into his strong back. I wasn’t sure what was happening between us. Something. Something
big
. I’d only signed up to give him a child, but Abel Lockwood was worthy of more than just my child. He seemed like the kind of man who was worthy of my heart as well.

“What can I help you with?” When I kissed the dip of his spine, he trembled. Which made me smile. I loved being able to make a man of his size and status tremble from one simple touch.

“You can help me by taking a seat right over there so I can stare at the prettiest view on the whole earth while I make breakfast.” He pointed at the chair closest to him around the breakfast table. “How are you feeling this morning?” he asked when I took a seat, concern pulling at his face.

“Fantastically, thank you for asking.”

His gaze dropped. “Sore?”

“A little,” I admitted with a shrug. “But not so much I don’t wish this chair was your body and I was practicing this one position I read about . . .” Instead of saying anything else, I showed him.

His jaw set as he watched me. Just when I was certain he was about to toss the chair out the window and take its place, he exhaled. “Food first. That after.” He repeated it like he was trying to convince himself.

I beamed to myself, loving feeling like I had so much power over him.

“Is there anything you want to talk about from last night? You know, now that we’re both somewhat dressed and aren’t fucking like a couple of rabbits?”

He must have noticed me shift because he winced. “I’m sorry. Does the language make you uncomfortable?”

“No,” I answered instantly.. “I don’t mind.” I pulled on the hem of Abel’s shirt as I debated bringing something up. What the heck? I’d ditched the shy thing last night—no sense it picking it back up this morning. “Do you think you could talk like that to me when we’re . . . you know . . .” I swallowed.

Abel approached the table with a few rolled crepes on a plate. He set the plate in front of me. “Is that your way of requesting I talk dirty to you while I’m inside of you?”

His voice was all smoke and sex. The thought of him saying some of the things I’d imagined in that voice made my muscles squeeze.

Abel waited for me to nod. When I did, his head lowered so his mouth was beside my ear. “Request granted.” Even though he wasn’t touching me, I could feel my orgasm building from his nearness alone. “Here’s your first taste of it, Miss Matthews.”

His teeth sank into my earlobe, harder then softer. I jerked from the sharp touch.

“I want you to eat your breakfast, and I want you to eat it all so you have plenty of time to get that pussy all wet and ready for me. Then I want you to clear the table because I plan on bending you over this thing and fucking your cock-greedy pussy until you can taste my cum in the back of your throat.”

My heart was firing in my eardrums, my breath labored.

“Now, nod like a good girl so I know you heard me and I know you’re going to do everything I just asked.”

When I did, his teeth pierced my lobe again, seeming to have a direct connection with what was aching with need between my legs. “Now eat your breakfast. You’re going to need your energy.”

Without another word, he went back to the stove to plate another dish, leaving me panting like a dog in heat. Good lord, after that, I was wet enough for him to do all of that . . .
stuff
now, but I knew he wouldn’t budge until I’d eaten my breakfast. So I dug in. The sooner I was done, the sooner . . . yeah.

I might have moaned when I took the first bite of crepe. He didn’t miss it. I’d eaten plenty of pancakes and waffles in my life but never a crepe. Too fancy and too time-consuming to make for life on a farm, so they felt like a special treat. He’d filled them with a bunch of fresh berries and what looked like ricotta cheese and maybe some fresh whipped cream. It didn’t get past me that this was a healthy, balanced meal, as I guessed he’d insist every meal from here on be until my delivery.

The baby. I could practically feel it growing inside me, invisible to the naked eye as I knew it would be. But still, I could feel it inside me. I didn’t want to tell him until I knew for sure after the blood test Love Child would take later this week, but I knew.

“Last night you said something . . .” I stilled my fork from tearing into my next bite.

“Last night I said a lot of somethings.”

“The something about you wanting me to have your next child too.” There it was. All out in a single breath.

Abel stopped assembling the crepes on his plate. “Ah, yes.
That
something.”

I shifted in my seat. “Did you mean it?”

The skin between his brows pinched together like he couldn’t decide if I was being serious. “I want you to be the mother of every child I ever dream of bringing into this world, Adeline. Of course I meant it.”

I gave that a moment to settle in, trying to figure out a way to phrase my next question. “And you want to have those children with me through Love Child? Or through a different way?”

Abel turned so he was facing me. He was still looking at me like he was trying to figure me out. “However and whatever way I can have those children with you. I’ll let you make that decision for us.”

Was he saying what I thought he was? That he’d want to have a child with me through the traditional way? The dating, relationship, love, marriage way? Was that what he was saying? Or was he saying he’d work out similar terms with me outside the umbrella of Love Child if I preferred? Was he saying something else entirely?

Did I care?

My answer was immediate because no matter what Abel meant, I’d have as many or as few children for him as he wanted.

But there was one thing I needed to be certain about. “Having a family takes commitment. Time. More than it seems you have to offer with your lifestyle being what it is right now.” I thought of what Helen had said about him rarely coming home before what would be a child’s bedtime. I thought about his travel schedule for the upcoming year, which included weeks away from Chicago.

I thought about the other guys I’d gotten briefly involved with and their lacking interpretation of commitment.

Abel crossed the kitchen, setting his half-made plate across from mine. “I know my schedule is busy and planned out to the last minute. I know my work schedule suggests a person who is not interested in building a family, but that’s only because I’ve been waiting for the right person to create that family with. When I have a family to come home to every night, I won’t need to spend so much time away, avoiding the emptiness that’s waiting for me now.”

To distract myself from the tears I felt coming, I cut another chunk of crepe off and placed it in my mouth.

“I can promise you with every word I know that I am committed to this, but I’d rather prove it to you through my actions.” Abel slid into the chair across from me, reaching for my hand. “But that means you first have to trust that I’m a man of my word. Will you trust me, Adeline? Do you trust me?”

My hand found it’s way into his, turning over so our palms were pressed together. Sometimes the only way to know if you could trust a person was to give it to them and see what they did with it.

“I trust you. I believe that you’re going to be committed to raising this child . . . and whatever other ones we might make together.”
Just ask him, Adeline. Just ask him if he means he wants me to be the woman who bears his children or the woman who raises them beside him.
I couldn’t do it though. I was too worried about putting him in a tough position, and I wanted to enjoy the rest of the weekend with him no matter what he wanted from me at the end. “The few boys I dated growing up showed me the male definition of commitment is different than mine. I just had to make sure.”

Abel’s expression turned sour, as it did whenever I mentioned other boys, but he had nothing to be sour about. Other than a few kisses and some hand-holding, those boys had taken off pretty quickly after they found out I would make them work harder to get between my legs than a couple of cheap dates.

“Adeline, let me assure you my definition of commitment aligns with yours and not those other spineless fuckers you’ve known.” Realizing what he’d just said, he looked ready to apologize until I squeezed his hand to encourage him to carry on. “A boy makes promises because he thinks he knows what he wants. A man makes promises because he knows exactly what he wants.”

My mouth twitched. “And you’re a man?” It was more statement than question because I had the ache between my legs to confirm it.

“Angel, I’m
all
man.”

“Good to know.” I smiled at my plate as I went in for another bite. Too much talking, not enough eating. I was going to be here all day if I didn’t get to work.

“I was going to wait until tomorrow to unload all of this on you, but with the hard-on I’m fighting thanks to you practically begging me to talk dirty to you, I don’t plan on taking a break from your pussy until I have to leave for my flight Monday morning.”

His words made me eat faster. “You’re leaving Monday?”

His expression softened when he saw the disappointment on my face. “I’ve got a business trip. I’ve got to take care of something important or else I wouldn’t dream of leaving you.”

“And my pussy?” I lifted an eyebrow at him, flashing a wicked smile.

His neck stiffened. “Eat,” he ordered in a gruff voice.

“How long?” I asked after I finished a couple more bites.

“Four or five days probably.”

When I sighed, he did too. Hadn’t he just promised me he knew what commitment was and was ready to embrace it? Now, two minutes later, he was telling me he had to leave for a business trip the very week after he’d gotten me pregnant. I knew the baby wasn’t here or anything yet, but still, it felt like a sign of what was to come.

“I’ll check in every day. I promise. And I’ll be on the first flight home just as soon as I have everything taken care of.”

He was waiting for me to look at him, but I was focusing on my breakfast, trying to calm myself down. He’d already had a schedule before any of this happened between us. He couldn’t just up and cancel everything because we’d shared a magical weekend together. That wouldn’t have been responsible or expressed commitment, to his job at least.

“I went ahead and added you to my gym and country club memberships, so you can visit them whenever you like,” he said. “I also arranged to have a masseuse who specializes in prenatal massage visit the condo twice a week. You can coordinate your schedule with hers. You’re aware of your personal car and driver, and I’ve programmed his number into your new phone, so whenever you want to get out, you’re free to.”