I want to cry out in both pain and pleasure, but I don’t want him to think he should stop. It’s a sensation unlike anything I’ve ever felt as he licks me at the same time as he’s massaging me from the inside. I don’t want it to end. A soft whimper escapes my throat and he slides his finger out of me.
“Are you okay?”
“Oh, my God, Chris. Don’t stop.”
He laughs as he kisses the inside of my thigh then dips his finger inside me again. My thighs tremble as his tongue circles my clit and his hand works wonders until I’m so swollen with pleasure I think my entire body might explode. I turn my face into the pillow and let go a scream so loud that my ears pop. He slides his finger out of me, but he keeps the warm pressure of his mouth on me, lapping up my juices as I climax.
My body trembles as he scoots out from beneath me and I collapse onto my belly. “Holy shit,” I whisper as he lies next to me and lightly runs his fingertips over the backs of my legs.
“That’s only the beginning, babe.” He turns me onto my back and takes off his boxers. He begins to lie on top of me, but I push him off. “What’s wrong?”
I quickly sit up and peel my shirt off as I climb into his lap. “I don’t want to lie down.”
I hook one arm around his neck and reach down to grab his cock as I ease him inside me.
His eyelids flutter as they close. I ride him gently, slowly moving up and down, savoring the delicious friction as he hits that spot deep inside me.
“Do you think that’s safe?” he says, grabbing my hips to stop me.
“I don’t know. Google it.” He grabs my hips to try to lift me off his lap, but I hold on tight. “I’m kidding. Of course, it’s safe.”
“Don’t fuck with me like that. You have no idea how scared I am.”
I cradle his face in my hands and kiss his forehead. “That’s why I love you.”
I kiss him slowly as we rock our hips back and forth together.
“I want to live inside you,” he whispers. I suck on his tongue as his hand slides down to find my clit. “I want you to come with me.”
Grabbing fistfuls of his hair, I plunge my tongue into his mouth as I attempt to not scream the way I did a few minutes ago. “Faster,” I urge him.
He groans, his fingers still caressing me as his cock twitches inside me. He continues stroking me long after he’s finished, making no move to pull out of me. I curl into him and bite his shoulder to suppress my cries as the second orgasm rolls through me.
“Claire….”
“Yes.”
“I want to have three kids… at least.” I can’t help but laugh and he pinches my side. “I’m serious. And after this album, I’m not going to tour anymore until you graduate.” I open my mouth to speak, but he continues. “And I want to make little T-shirts that say, ‘My Dad Rocks.’ And I want to teach them all to play an instrument. And we’ll have some animals, like horses and chickens, and I’ll teach them to take care of the animals. And—”
“Slow down, cowboy. We haven’t even had the first one yet. I know your sperm is quite potent, but let’s not count our chickens before they hatch.”
He lifts me off his lap and sets me on the bed, then pushes me back so he can lie on top of me. He slides his hand behind my knee and lifts my leg onto his shoulder. He eases himself into me and I gasp.
“Don’t tell me not to get my hopes up,” he growls as he pierces me at an agonizingly slow pace. “Hope is the only thing that has kept me going for the past year and a half.”
“You don’t have to hope anymore. I’m yours… forever.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Chris
I wake Claire up slowly.
I open the curtains in our room just a smidge to let in a crack of gray morning light. Then I lie next to her and wait until she can feel me watching her. I could write a song about her face; the way her top lip is fuller than her bottom lip; the tiny, barely noticeable dip on the tip of her nose; the graceful arc of her eyebrows; the crystal-blue color of her eyes. She slowly opens her eyelids and smiles when she sees my face inches away from hers.
“Are you stalking me in my sleep again?” she says as her arms reach for me and she nuzzles her head against my neck.
I lightly stroke her arm as she squeezes me tightly. “How do you feel?”
“A little hungry.”
“Do you want to order room service or do you want to go out?”
“Call your mom and ask her what she wants to do.”
I tilt her chin up and stare at her face for a minute. “Are we going to tell her right now?”
“No! I think we should wait until we get back home from Vegas.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I’m scared. What if she thinks we’re not ready or she gets really emotional?”
“Well, I can guarantee you she’s going to get really emotional and who cares if she thinks we’re not ready. You and I know we’re ready. We’re being responsible. We’re not giving up anything to do this.”
“I know, but I’m still scared to let anyone know before the wedding. Let’s let Rachel have her day, then we’ll tell everyone when we get back.”
I can’t tell Claire that Rachel has been planning our wedding in Vegas since we got back together a month ago. Or that Rachel is probably more excited about our wedding than I am. She’s been coaching me on what to say and what not to say to Claire to make sure our secret stays hidden. I probably would have told Claire by now if it weren’t for the fact that I think Rachel would slowly disembowel me.
“Yeah, let’s let Rachel have her day,” I say, trying my hardest not to grin.
“Why are you smiling?”
“I’m just happy we’re having a baby,” I say as I slide my arm out from underneath her neck and head for the desk phone.
I call my mom to join us in our room, but she insists she’ll wait for us to get showered and dressed first. After Claire and I eat a light breakfast of toast and eggs, we both shower and she allows me one last taste of her before we invite my mom up. I laugh as Claire makes the bed and she laughs as I spray the room with her perfume to cover up the smell of sex.
My mom comes in and she glances into the trashcan before she sits on the edge of the bed. “You’re not going to shave?” she asks me pointedly.
I scratch the scruff on my jaw and shake my head. “Claire likes it. Don’t you, babe?”
She rolls her eyes at me as she leans against the dresser. “Rachel will probably make him shave.”
“Rachel’s in for a surprise. Jake’s getting his first tattoo tomorrow.”
Claire’s mouth drops. Jake isn’t a sissy, but he’s the most whipped motherfucker I know. He pretty much does whatever Rachel wants. And Rachel doesn’t like tattoos. She thinks our bodies are like sacred temples, or some shit. I’m assuming this is why Jake is so whipped. She must worship his temple often.
“She’s going to kill him,” my mom says as she digs in her purse for something. “You should try to talk him out of it.”
“I can’t. It was a bet between him and Tristan.”
“What kind of tattoo is he getting?” Claire asks.
I can’t tell her because I agreed to get the same tattoo he’s getting.
“You’ll see.”
“Enough talk about tattoos,” my mom says, turning to Claire. “Have you made up your mind, honey?”
“I’m going,” Claire replies. “I want to meet my sister.”
“What if she’s not there? What if no one’s there?”
“We’ll wait,” I answer for Claire and she smiles.
I get an anxious feeling inside me as I realize we’re about to meet the aunt and grandfather of my child—my children.
I have to stop thinking of Abby like that.
“Chris?”
Claire is looking at me as if she knows what I’m thinking, but of course she doesn’t.
“Yeah, let’s get going,” I say, clapping my hands together. “We have a flight to catch at five o’clock.”
Rachel was counting on us checking into our hotel suite in Vegas by this afternoon so she could sneak into our room while we’re having dinner. The plan was for her to leave the wedding rings and Claire’s dress under the bed. Then tomorrow, my mom is supposed to come in and get them while we’re gone and take them to the wedding venue. Rachel is going to be pissed that I’m fucking with her schedule.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Claire
Listen
Chris drives slowly on the ride to my father’s house so I don’t get sick. As usual, Jackie notices everything.
“Why are you driving like a grandma?” she asks Chris. “Claire, are you feeling better today?”
“I feel great. I had a good breakfast,” I reply, knowing how much Jackie prizes a healthy breakfast.
“Good girl. You need to eat well and drink lots of water.”
My heart races as my mind tries to conjure reasons why she would say this. She doesn’t think I’m pregnant. One vomiting fit does not a pregnancy make. She must be giving me advice to heed in general.
Now I feel like throwing up again. The egg-flavored vomit stings the back of my throat and I swallow it down multiple times, all the while staring out the passenger window so no one can see me struggling. Suddenly, I break out in a cold sweat and my chest heaves involuntarily. Oh, God. It’s coming.
“Pull over!”
Chris quickly pulls into a gas station, but I can’t get the door open fast enough. Some of the vomit hits the inside of the car door. The car rental company is going to hate me. The rest of my breakfast comes up, painfully. When I’m done vomiting, my eyes are bloodshot and tearing and the back of my neck is dripping sweat.
Jackie goes inside the gas station to get me some water this time and Chris squats down in front of me as I sit on the passenger seat.
“Are you okay to go? We can do this another time. We don’t even have to go to Vegas. You can just lie down in the hotel room until you feel better. Or maybe I should take you to the hospital. Do you think you need to see a doctor?”
“Chris, I’m fine. Well, not fine, but this isn’t any worse than… than it was with Abigail. It will get better… eventually.”
I bite my lip so hard as I think of her that I draw blood. The metallic-tang makes me gag and I quickly wipe my lips on the inside of my shirt.
Jackie arrives with a plastic bag of goodies. She hands it to me then gets into the backseat without another word. I look inside the bag and find two bottle of water and a bottle of multi-vitamins.
She knows. She has to know.
“What’s this?” Chris asks, holding up the vitamins.
“Well, if she can’t hold anything down, she should at least be taking a multi-vitamin.”
The way she says this as if I’m not in the car worries me. “Jackie, I’m fine. I just can’t stand the smell in this car. And I’m beyond nervous.”
“I know, honey, but you have to take care of yourself.”
Chris kisses my forehead as he stands and I swing my legs into the car so he can close the door. I take one of the vitamins with a small sip of water. Chris sets off down Washington Street again and my stomach begins to hurt the second he turns into the residential housing tract where my father lives. The houses all have red clay tile roofs and rich, green lawns. The overcast sky dulls the shine on the cars, which are all mostly brand new.
My breaths come shorter and quicker the closer we get to his house. As soon as we pull up in front of the two-story house with the cream-colored stucco and the brand new SUV in the driveway, I feel as I might pass out. I clutch the handgrip on the inside of the car door as I stare at the rust-colored door of the house.