Pulse (Collide) (35 page)

Fallon sucked on her spoon, her brow raised in speculation. “Are you trying to tell me Gavin Blake—money mogul, pretty smart cat—hasn’t sought out information on the internet about this?”

“He doesn’t trust the internet,” Emily answered with a sigh. She picked up her spoon and started digging into what was left of the sundae. “He said there’s too much conflicting information and he’d rather talk to the doctor personally.”

Fallon shrugged. “I ain’t buying it. Either he’s turned off, or he’s dropping his seed somewhere else.” Emily’s jaw dropped open. Fallon belted out a laugh. “I’m kidding, Country. Kind of. But on the real, keep your eyes open. It just seems… odd. A man as smart as he is can’t just become dumb. And if he was interested, why is he waiting? Why not drop by your doctor’s office and ask?”

Emily snapped her mouth shut and pondered Fallon’s statement. She hadn’t really thought of why Gavin hadn’t attempted to find out on his own. Her stomach wasn’t a protruding balloon yet, but considering she was nearing sixteen weeks, it definitely wasn’t flat anymore. She didn’t think he was cheating, and she felt self-conscious about her less than flattering physique, so Emily went with the assumption he was turned off by what she was slowly turning in to.

Olivia frowned at Fallon. “Are you trying to upset her?”

“No, I’m not trying to upset her.” Fallon wiped her mouth and tossed the crumpled up napkin onto the table. “You just never know. That’s all.”

Olivia shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Don’t listen to her, Emily. Gavin would never, not even on his worst day, cheat on you. Now, I think you need to smarten his ass up. Maybe grab some pamphlets from your doctor’s office and educate the man on the specifics of indulging in a little one on one while preggos. As long as nothing needs to be plugged in while engaging in these acts, I’m sure all will be well. Don’t need anyone getting electrocuted trying to get some ass.”

Emily rose from her seat to flag down the waitress again. After handing the girl her credit card, she sighed. “Okay, you two. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. He’s going to talk to my doctor at my next appointment. Conversation over.”

Both women nodded, and with that, the subject was closed. After signing the bill, they all started for the exit.

Fallon swung on her coat and gave Emily a hug. “I have to go get ready for work. I love you, toots. Don’t mind me. I’m just PMSing right now. I’m sure everything’s going to be fine.” Emily gave her a small smile and helped Fallon wrap her scarf around her neck. “Stop by the restaurant soon. Antonio misses you. Shit, we all miss you.”

Emily nodded, missing everyone too. She’d given her notice a few weeks earlier, deciding that working part time as a teacher for a class of first graders was more than enough for the time being. “I will.”

After bidding Fallon goodbye, Emily and Olivia slipped into a taxi and started out for a day of maternity clothes shopping. Again, her stomach wasn’t quite the bursting balloon it would be in a few months, but her expanding shape definitely required some new attire. Twenty minutes later, after what Emily considered one of the scariest rides through the city ever, courtesy of an overly hotheaded driver, they reached Rosie Pope, a high end maternity boutique on Madison Avenue.

Olivia slammed the taxi door closed. “Psycho!” Olivia flicked her middle finger at the cabbie screeching away into midday traffic. “Christ on a cracker. I swear, the city needs to give these dudes some tranquilizers before they go on shift.” After securing her thick blonde hair into a messy bun, she sighed and held open the door for Emily. “Why the hell didn’t you bring your car? You have a brand new, slamming vehicle Gavin bought you, and you barely drive it.”

“You barely drive yours.” Emily scanned the posh boutique, impressed by their selection. “You’ve been in Manhattan a lot longer than I have. You see how scary it is out there. It’s not only the cab drivers; everyone drives like a nut here.”

“Right. I’ve turned somewhat Manhattan-ized cabbing it or taking the subway. But I could reach orgasm by merely sitting in your car. I’d have no qualms about driving it. That machine was meant for speed and sex. It’s hot on wheels.”

Emily signed, her mind jolted back to a glorious freeway in California. It was indeed made for… fun.

Olivia pulled a red tunic sweater from a rack and plastered it against Emily’s chest. Cocking her head from side to side, she studied it a moment. She wrinkled her nose in distaste and hung it back up. “Not your color. Oh, and can I say I’m not thrilled about you deciding not to have a baby shower.”

“Liv, there’s no way I’m having one. The situation doesn’t merit it. Stop bringing it up.” Emily swiped three pairs of jeans ranging from size eight to twelve from a neatly folded stack. Staring at the astronomical price tag, she almost put them down. On his way to work this morning, Gavin had left his credit card and a note on the counter, telling her he wanted her to purchase some clothing from this particular boutique. Considering he’d spent a cool $30,000 on stunning, intricate, hand-carved, mahogany nursery furniture flown in from Italy, she wasn’t sure why she was shocked. “Other than clothing and a few odds and ends, we already have everything for the baby. We don’t need a shower.”

“I know you guys don’t
need
one, but it’s a rite of passage.” Following Emily to the dressing room, Olivia plucked a few tops from racks along the way. “As your best friend, what fun is my life if I don’t get to see you wearing that stupid bow hat?”

Emily giggled and grabbed the tops from Olivia. “Those hats are hideous.” She rolled the curtain open and slipped into the dressing room. “You’re evil enough to want to see me in one of those.”

“No doubt I’m evil.” Olivia pulled lipstick from her purse, applying the deep red to her puckered lips as she stared into a compact mirror. “Come on, Em, I’m being serious. Let me set something up for you. If not, I’m calling the Maury Povich and Jerry Springer shows to make sure you, Gavin, and Dark Lord of Dickheads get your fifteen minutes of fame on live television.”

Emily hooted out a laugh. “I can’t say I don’t appreciate your names for Dillon now.” She whipped open the curtain and stepped out of the dressing room wearing a pair of dark maternity jeans and black V-neck top that hung slightly off her shoulders. “But I
will
kill you if you call either of those…” Emily’s voice trailed off, completely sickened when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

She’d often admired the beauty of a woman’s body carrying a child. The way their flesh expanded, creating a temple for a growing, unborn life, awed her. But as she stared at her reflection, Emily couldn’t find any trace of beauty. She brought her hands to her stomach and smoothed them over her widened hips. The fact that she hadn’t reached the halfway point of her pregnancy only made her realize she was half the size she’d be once she gave birth.

Through the reflection, Emily watched Olivia come up behind her. “I look horrible,” Emily whispered, totally convinced that was the reason Gavin was withholding sex. “I’m going to look like the Pillsbury Doughboy by the time I give birth.”

Olivia placed her hand on Emily’s shoulder. “You look beautiful, friend. And if the Pillsbury Doughboy looked as good as you will, he’d bake a tray of cookies in celebration.”

A small smile touched Emily’s mouth. “You know that wasn’t funny, right?”

Olivia shrugged. “Eh. I usually hit them better than that. Give me some credit. The Doughboy’s hard to work with.”

Emily’s smile faded as she stared at herself. Her mind took her back to a conversation she and her mother had a few months before finding out she was sick. Emily was home on break from school, and they were eating breakfast together. It was as if her mother sensed something bad was looming. She started talking about her relationship with Emily’s grandmother, who’d passed away a few months before. Emily felt a pang in her heart as she listened to her mom speak of memories with her mother. Some light laughter and many tears later, she looked at Emily, her eyes distant. She told Emily if there ever came a time she wasn’t there, to just always know she was. A mother’s intuition she may not be around much longer.

She hadn’t understood the significance that conversation on a warm June morning, in the kitchen of a home wrapped in ill and sweet memories, would hold almost a year later. Emily couldn’t help but fear the impact of it all. She was about to have her first child, and though her mother might be watching, she wouldn’t be there in the flesh. The gatekeeper to all of her childhood memories, whether good or evil, wouldn’t see Emily’s baby’s eyes. She’d never shower Emily’s child in the love only a grandmother could. She wouldn’t be there to hold Emily’s hand and walk her through the steps of what it took to be a mother. As a tear fell from her eye, Emily pushed her hands through her hair. She took another look in the mirror at the mother she was about to become.

Her road, though streaked with layers of happiness, was also paved with longing only her mother could replace.

Heavy sleet pelting the bedroom window like thousands of drumming fingers roused Emily from a deep sleep. She squinted her eyes open only to find Gavin scratching his bare stomach, his tongue moistening his beautifully etched mouth as he slept peacefully. She tried desperately to catch her missing breath. A gnawing ache grew between her legs, her body reacting to him in the only way it ever knew how. It needed him.

She needed him. Needed to touch, taste, and feel him. In her. Over her. Below her. No matter what, she wanted him and couldn’t wait any longer. The air, lightly perfumed with his cologne, dug into all her senses. Her core tightened in response to his soft breathing, the low, humming cadence increasing her want. She tried in vain to stop, but when he turned, the comforter slipped from his body, exposing his glorious hip bone. She was done for. Hunger exploded in her belly.

She bit her lip, sat up, and stripped the black silk camisole from her body. Her black lace panties followed. Like a moth impossibly drawn to a flame, and with careful fingers, she slid the comforter away from his naked flesh. He stirred lightly, a deep groan rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t wake. Emily swallowed, her craving for every inch of his iron clad golden skin filling her with desperation close to that of a madwoman. Her pulse, along with her breath, quickened as she slithered down the bed.

On her knees in front of his feet, she deftly spread his legs and swooped in for the kill. Curling her fingers around his semi-hard cock, she took him greedily into her mouth. She heard him moan, and his muscled body straining upward only fueled her desire. Sucking harder, she tried to satisfy her thirst for him as she licked each heavily veined inch from root to tip. God, he tasted amazing. The saltiness of his liquid silk combined with the flavor of his skin had her head bobbing reverently, her hand moving up and down each time she pulled him in.

Then he awoke.

He hauled his body against the headboard, but that didn’t stop Emily. She followed without letting him go. “Emily,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “What the hell are you doing?”

Eyes dilated in lust, she looked up as she slowly licked and sucked over the crest of his now rock-hard cock. “What does it look like I’m doing, Mr. Blake?” She surged down again, feeling him hit the back of her throat. Another deep, delicious groan ripped from his chest as he gripped her hair, his fingers twined tight against her skull. It made her high. Dizzy. She slid her mouth down his pulsing erection, her nails digging into his hips. She could feel the strain in his muscles, felt his body go taut and rigid, and she loved every second of it. Oh, yes, she had him now. He pushed deeper through her lips, his fingers clenching her hair harder as he guided her up and down, down and up, allowing her to take him to the hilt.

Every last one of Gavin’s senses was devoured by her hungry mouth. “Fuck,” he bit out. “You love the way I taste. Don’t you?”

Yes. She. Did.

The sharp taste he put out mingled with a touch of sweetness had her drugged. “Mmm,” she moaned, her tongue sliding over a thick bead of semen. She ran a hand over his bare stomach, her fingernails leaving deep red marks, as she continued to circle his cock with her tongue. An intoxicating whimper crawled up her throat when he pinched one of her hardened nipples, rolling it slowly between his thumb and forefinger as he pushed into her mouth again. With one hand still buried in her hair, he started to pump faster.

Hell, Gavin was about to explode. A hard swallow rippled over his Adam’s apple as Emily sucked him off harder. He grabbed her shoulders, yanking her onto his chest. In a split second, he had her on her back pinned beneath him.

Breathless, Emily bucked her hips up, her raging need to have him inside her driving her as close to insane as one could get. She gripped his shoulders, her pussy clenching, burning with arousal. He hovered above her, propped on his elbows. Deep, ragged breaths filled his chest as he looked down at her as if he was debating what to do.

Hell. No.

“You’re going to fuck me right now, and I’m going to love every second of it, Gavin. You’re going to fuck me, and you’re not going to hurt the baby. But I can tell you, if you don’t fuck me right now,
I’m
going to hurt
you
.”