Perfectly Unpredictable (13 page)

Mack ran a hand through his hair. “I’m
clean, but what about birth control? Are you on the pill?”

“No. Not with breastfeeding.”

“Right.” Mack nodded. He looked at Kalia’s
breasts and swallowed. “Is sex okay?”

“Seems really good,” Kalia said, breaking
the tension.

Mack chuckled, sat down beside her, and
pulled her close.

Kalia rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m
sorry.”

“Me, too.” Mack stroked her back. “But
it’ll be worth the wait.”

Kalia pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“So how was your dinner date?”

Kalia grinned at the hint of jealousy in
his voice. “It was nice. Cameron seems like a very nice guy.”

Mack pulled back a bit. “Nice and bland? That’s
why he has to drive a fancy sports car. To make up for a lack of personality.”

Kalia laughed and stuck her tongue in her
cheek. “Careful, your skin is turning green.”

“What? I’m just making an observation,” he
said blandly.

Kalia laughed again. “When did you get back?
And how did the tour go?”

“The tour was great. Went really well. I pulled
in when the sports car pulled out.”

“You must be exhausted,” she said,
reluctantly sitting back. “And Mani will be up at five o’clock to breastfeed. Look,
why don’t you come for dinner tomorrow night?” She checked her watch. “Or
rather, tonight.”

“I’d like that.” He rubbed his eyes. “Can I
bring something?” He leaned in and brushed his lips to hers and softly kissed a
trail along her jawline.

She gulped. “Condoms?”

He laughed. “Will do. Good night, Kalia. Think
of me.”

She stared at him. “And get no sleep at
all?”

“Welcome to the club.”

Kalia fussed with the dinner, fussed with
the table, and fussed over what to wear. It was Mack. She wanted it to be
perfect. Or as perfect as you could get when you were working around an eight-month-old’s
schedule.

Mani would not settle for an afternoon nap.
She read him a story and put on his music. She laid him in his crib like she
had every other day. But he babbled and fretted and then finally started to cry
and sat up. And that was it. No nap.

So the menu for dinner underwent a few
drastic changes as the day wore on. Spinach and feta-stuffed chicken breasts
with maple-glazed carrots changed to chicken and cheese panini –
well, basically, grilled cheese and chicken sandwiches – with a
grated carrot salad. She was pretty sure she had ice cream bars in the freezer
for dessert. Oh well. It was supposed to be about spending time together, and
she doubted Mack’s priority was going to be the food.

She stood in the bedroom and looked at
herself in the mirror, considering what to wear. Her breasts were definitely
fuller and her curves a little more, well, curvy. But she didn’t have any
stretch marks and her skin looked healthy and glowing. Except for the slightly
frazzled expression on her face.

She hadn’t had sex since before Mani was
born and wondered if the changes to her body would change that for her, too.
She felt herself flush, remembering the kisses the previous night. Desire and
libido definitely weren’t a problem.

She slipped on a nude, barely-there thong
and matching lace bra. She chose a pale, copper-colored silk mini-skirt that
skimmed her thighs and sparkled when it caught the light. She added a matching
top that hugged her breasts and draped to her waist. Sapphire and copper stones
dangled from her ears. She kept her make-up light, with a dusting of copper
blush and mascara, and was ready to go.

Mani fell asleep in his high chair when she
fed him dinner. He fought to stay awake, but missing his nap finally caught up
with him. Kalia wiped his hands and face and carried him to his crib.

By the time Mack rang the bell at six
o’clock, Mani was fast asleep, the sandwiches were ready to grill, and the
table was set.

Kalia took a calming deep breath and
exhaled slowly as she walked to the front door. And still, as she pulled open
the door and saw Mack’s smiling eyes, her heart raced. He was dressed simply in
a short-sleeved shirt that hugged his broad chest, left muscular arms exposed,
and dipped down to tuck into low-slung black jeans.

Kalia’s mouth went dry.

He leaned in to whisper soft kisses down
her cheek and handed her a bottle of red wine and a baker’s box tied up in gold
ribbon. “I brought dessert,” he said, smiling.

“Oh. Thank you.” She led him into the
kitchen and set the wine on the counter. “What did you bring?”

“Open it.”

She fiddled with the ribbon, taking her
time opening the box. She looked up at Mack and then peered inside.

She pulled out gourmet chocolate fudge
sauce, whipping cream, and a party pack of assorted condoms. “Ribbed, smooth,
scented, and flavored,” she read. “Covers all the bases.”

He walked up behind her and swept aside her
hair to expose the nape of her neck. He pressed open-mouthed kisses along the
sensitive skin. “I didn’t know what you planned for dinner, but I figured chocolate
goes with everything.” His hand slid from her thigh, up over her belly, and
skimmed her breast. “Your skin is so soft. I’ve wanted to touch it,” he
whispered. He ran his tongue along the top of her shoulder. “And taste it.”

Kalia shivered and felt her nipples tingle
and harden. She stood rooted to the spot as Mack stood behind her, trailing
kisses down her back, moving from bare skin to silk. Kalia’s heart tripped and
her breath caught as he continued lower. Mack’s fingers never stopped moving as
they danced around to the front, slipped under the flimsy material, and stroked
the sensitive skin.

“Mack,” Kalia gasped as a wave of sensation
rocked her. Mack fluttered his fingers over the warm, wet skin, and caught her
when she buckled with the orgasm. She turned, buried her head in his shoulder,
and clung tight.

Mack swept her up, grabbed the box of
condoms, and headed upstairs.

Kalia trailed kisses down his neck.

Mack gently lowered her to the bed and,
after stripping off his shirt, covered her with his weight. Their lips met in
greedy kisses as her hands raced over Mack’s smooth skin.

She reached for the zipper, undid Mack’s
jeans, pulled them down over his hips, and slid her hands around to the front.

Mack groaned and grabbed her hands,
capturing them above her head. Their tongues danced, and Mack moved lower to
nip at firm nipples through the silk fabric. She arched up to meet him. He
lifted the silk over her head, released her bra, and ran light fingers over the
bare skin.

“You’re so beautiful, Kalia,” he whispered.

He began a slow, tortuous journey of open-mouthed
kisses along her collarbone, taking his time, tasting her skin, skimming lower and
brushing the sensitive skin of each breast. Kalia’s arms felt leaden as
sensation washed over her.

“Mack, inside,” she groaned.

“I’m getting there,” he drawled.

He continued down, over the smooth skin of
her belly, and ran his hands down her legs, tugging off clothes as he went.

His fingers stroked and tickled as he
worked his way back up. Her breath caught when he reached the top of her thigh.

“Mack.” She pushed him onto his back and
straddled his waist. She wanted to rush, but the sight of his chest, the rippled
muscles of his belly, made her slow down. So smooth. So firm. And he was
ticklish. She grinned when he squirmed and reached for her hands. She linked
her hands with his and drew them aside, bending to press kisses on the
sensitive skin. Her tongue swirled lower, tasting the saltiness. She inhaled
his musky scent.

When his breath caught and he moaned her
name, Kalia ripped open a condom, slid it over his silken length, and guided
him inside.

They fit. He filled her completely.

She took her time, riding him slowly,
taking him deeper, drawing it out. She leaned closer to kiss him, writhing when
the pressure of his skin against hers was exactly right.

Kalia arched when his thumbs brushed her
nipples. Her breasts, swollen and heavy, filled his hands.

He grabbed her hips and kneaded her skin,
controlling the rhythm, quickening the dance.

With deep strokes, she tightened around him.
Kalia threw back her head as the orgasm rocked her and he emptied himself
inside her.

Spent, she lowered herself to his chest.

“I’ve always said you should eat dessert
first,” he said, trailing his fingers down her back.

She pressed closer. “And we still have the
chocolate sauce and flavored condoms.”

He hardened inside her.

After trying the ribbed condoms (meh), the
cherry flavor (yum), and the scented condoms (definite no), they were relaxed
and limber and definitely starving.

Mack pulled on his jeans and Kalia drew a
sheer peignoir around herself. They headed to the kitchen to make the panini
together.

“Seriously, you’re going to wear that and
I’m supposed to focus on food,” Mack teased as he reached around and stroked
her skin from chin to belly.

Kalia laughed, leaned into his touch, and
then swayed away. “Open the wine,” she said and pressed a kiss to his lips.

Mack uncorked the bottle and poured it into
the goblets as Kalia layered the sandwiches and set them on the grill.

They set everything on a tray and, grabbing
the chocolate sauce and whipping cream, carried it back to the bedroom. Kalia
drew the curtains closed and turned on some music as Mack lit the candles that
Kalia had placed around the room.

When Mack took the first bite of his
sandwich, Kalia paused and stared at him. “Your body is beautiful,” she said.

Mack looked up with laughing eyes. “Isn’t
that supposed to be my line? Your body is beautiful,” he said smoothly. “See,
it’s a girl word.”

“A girl word?” she said indignantly. “What’s
the boy word?”

“Ripped,” he said, taking another mouthful.

Kalia laughed. “Really?”

He nodded solemnly.

“Okay. You’re ripped,” she said huskily and
she drew her hand lightly down his chest to the button of his jeans.

Mack choked on his sandwich and cleared his
throat, “Yeah, um, much better.”

“Mani’s quiet,” Mack said, a little while
later, holding her close.

“Yeah. He wouldn’t go down for a nap today
and was wiped by five o’clock. He sort of lost altitude when I fed him dinner and
then fell asleep in his bowl. He’ll probably be up to feed again around
midnight.” Kalia snuggled closer, listening to the steady rhythm of Mack’s
heart.

“You do a good job with him. He’s lucky he’s
got you.”

“I feel lucky to have him.”

Mack tugged on a comforter to cover them
both. “It must be hard raising him on your own.” He brushed a wisp of hair from
Kalia’s face. “You never mention the father.”

“No, he’s not in the picture.” Kalia’s
heart squeezed.

“He wasn’t interested in helping out? Didn’t
he want a baby?”

Kalia shrugged, not really wanting to talk
about it. “It’s complicated. When I found out I was pregnant, I decided to have
the baby. I didn’t contact the father.”

Mack shifted to look at her. “You didn’t
tell him you were pregnant?”

Kalia struggled with guilt and sadness.
“No. No, I didn’t.”

“Don’t you think he had a right to know? That
he should have some say in the decision? That he should, at least, be told he
had a child?”

“I . . . I was going to . . .” she tried to
explain, but trailed off, blinking back tears.

“When? When the time was right for you?
After you made the decision without even acknowledging his part in it?”

Kalia stared at him, his body language and
tone finally registering through her grief. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t understand.” He
threw back the duvet and stood up. “I don’t understand how you could be so
selfish, so arrogant, to keep something like that to yourself.” He tugged on
his jeans and pulled his shirt over his head. “I’ll never understand that,” he
said in a quiet voice. He stopped and looked at her. “Look, you made the
decision to do this on your own. I’ll just leave you to it. I’ll let myself
out.” He strode out of the room.

“Mack . . . wait.” She heard the front door
slam and slouched back against the bed.

What had happened? One minute they were
having wild, crazy sex and the next he was slamming out the door.

She rubbed her hands over her face.

He’s
right though
. It had been selfish and arrogant, and
she would regret it for the rest of her life. She felt tears sting her eyes and
wished she could turn back the clock and do things differently. “Oh Alex. I’m
so sorry,” she whispered.

She curled up on the bed, and her toe
caught the edge of her warm flannel robe. She slipped it on, wondering if Mack
had pulled it out of her closet. It felt like a warm hug.

A little steadier, she dried her eyes. She
wandered around the room, blowing out the candles, then changed the sheets on
the bed and brushed her teeth. She craved a long soak in a hot tub, but Mani would
be up soon to breastfeed. So she settled for a shower and enjoyed the stream of
hot water over her tired muscles. As she toweled off, she heard Mani cry. She
pulled on loose cotton pajamas and went to feed him.

Mack slammed into his house and rubbed his
hands over his face.

“Goddamn it,” he swore as he threw his keys
at the sturdy sideboard just inside the entrance.

He strode into the kitchen, yanked open the
fridge, and pulled out a beer. He twisted off the cap with a jerk and threw it
on the counter, watching it bounce against the backsplash and ricochet to the
floor. Leaving it where it landed, he went into the living room and swept all
the newspapers to the floor, clearing a space on the sofa to sit down. Putting
his feet up on the coffee table, he grabbed the remote and started channel
surfing, not really seeing what was on.

How could a woman be so goddamn selfish? It
was Angie all over again. Coming to him, all proud of her independence, telling
him she’d been pregnant and how she took care of it. Smiling and seductive,
like nothing had happened and some child, his child, hadn’t been snuffed out
without so much as an ounce of awareness that maybe, just maybe, he wanted a
child.

He took a swig of beer. Why did women
assume that? Did it even enter their minds that some men want to be responsible
for their actions and want to know if they’ve fathered a child? Maybe even be
proud and happy about it.