“Say what you want,” he tells her.
“I was going to ask for a million but then I decided I was lowballing myself. I want two million dollars and all of this goes away. I won’t go to the press about your nasty little practices and you’ll never see me again.”
“Two million dollars for your silence seems reasonable until I consider that I can have it for free.”
She’s clearly confused. “It’s not free.”
He passes a manila envelope to her. “But I think it is … Aurora Dawn.”
She doesn’t even open the envelope. “Do you seriously think you’re going to convince me to keep my mouth shut over some stupid porn video I starred in for a lousy hundred bucks when I was eighteen?”
“No. I just brought that to humiliate you. The thing that’ll keep your mouth shut is the proof I have of you embezzling a shitload of money from this hotel, the very one we’re sitting in. So while it might be uncomfortable to know your coworkers can watch you take it up the ass on film, jail is a hell of a lot more uncomfortable. And I’m sure you’d miss your son terribly. Maybe he wouldn’t be completely grown by the time you got out.”
She appears indignant. “Well, you have me over a barrel and you’ve fucked me again.” She throws back the last of her wine before taking her purse and the manila envelope from the table. “I’d be careful with this one if I were you, Mrs. McLachlan. He always gets his way.”
She’s right. Jack Henry generally gets his way—whether the means are reasonable or not.
22
Our friends and family have known about the baby for weeks but there’s something grand about hitting that twelve-week mark. We’re finally able to breathe a sigh of relief since that typically means the pregnancy has made it to safety and the miscarriage risk is behind us.
We hear twelve to fourteen weeks is when the morning sickness gets better so we’re hoping for sooner rather than later. These past several weeks have been miserable for L, but she never complains. She does what she needs to in the mornings, while listening to the beating and banging of the construction work going on in her studio, and then works writing music as soon as she’s able to get up and around. It’s not ideal but she somehow manages.
I’m ready for work but I’m sitting next to L on the bed while she trudges through another morning of nausea. Damn, it’s been relentless but at least it doesn’t usually last beyond the morning hours. I hear some women have it all day. “Do you have anything planned for today?”
“I’m hoping to put the final touches on a song I wrote for Southern Ophelia and then go see Addison for a little while.”
“How’s she handling the whole bed-rest thing?”
“Not good, I’m afraid. She feels like a caged animal but I keep telling her to be compliant so she doesn’t end up back in the hospital. Her doctor warned her that if she had problems at home, he’d admit her for the rest of the pregnancy.”
I don’t care who you are, that would be a shit-ton-load to handle. “I’m sure she’s bored and needs something to do. Maybe a project would take her mind off everything. Why don’t you hire an interior designer to decorate the nursery? It can be our gift to her.”
“You are amazing. She hasn’t been able to get out and buy anything since they found out it was a boy, so she’s going to be so excited.” She sits up to hug me. “I would kiss you if it wouldn’t make me throw up.”
“Nice, L. Thanks a lot.”
She shrugs. “You know what I mean.”
Another reason the morning sickness needs to go away. My wife won’t kiss me—or anything else—in the mornings, and I really miss our first-thing romp before I shower for work. Evan warned me a baby would be a cock-blocker—and it is—but only in the mornings so far. L’s pregnancy hormones have her primed and ready to go at it all the other times of day. Really. “So I don’t get a midday naughty at lunch?”
“Not unless you can talk Mrs. Porcelli into it?”
I could’ve gone my whole life without her saying that. “Damn, L. You could’ve just said no.”
“But that wouldn’t have been near as funny.”
The alarm goes off, waking me from one of my more erotic dreams, so I’m hard. Damn.
I lie in bed thinking about anything except the only thing that’ll relieve my raging hard-on, but it’s no use. This isn’t going away without some kind of action and I know the kind I prefer.
We’re at the fourteen-week milestone and L has felt much better this week, so I decide to test the waters. She’s lying on her side, her back to me, and I creep my hand around her waist. I rub her lower belly where our baby is growing and recognize the firmness now present. It doesn’t seem like that was there last week.
I slide my hand lower and kiss the back of her neck before I cup my hand between her legs, rubbing up and down. “Babe, I’m getting up to shower.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
I press my hard-on against her bum. “I’m sorry. I was having a really good dream when the alarm went off and I’m still wound up by it.” Wound up is putting it mildly. I want inside L bad. I kiss the back of her neck and down her shoulder. “But it’s fine if you don’t feel up to it. My palm can become better acquainted with my cock in the shower.”
She places her hand around my wrist and pulls it away from her body, deflating my hopes for an early morning fuck, but then shocks me when she slides it down the front of her knickers and begins moving her groin back and forth. “Fuck me from behind.”
She doesn’t have to ask twice.
I shove my hand further into her knickers and hear threads popping. I’ve never ripped her undies off but the sound is hot, I give the crotch a hard yank, tearing them to give me access to get inside her. “Oh, fuck.” I want to slam my cock into her hard but I can’t. I have this phobia about hurting her or the baby, so I use every ounce of self-restraint to ease inside gently.
I’m only a few strokes in when L starts talking. “I know you want it harder than that.”
This isn’t the way we fuck hard but it’s still good. “I do but you know why I hold back.” I’ve told her my fears.
She pulls away from me. “Get on your back.” This is how we do it most of the time now, with L on top, and I don’t mind a bit. She’s in control and I’m able to enjoy sex without the fear of being too rough with her. We both get what we need.