Every Breath She Takes [CURRENTLY ON HOLD]

Chapter 8: Tender Care

The gentle man came once a week, sometimes more, sometimes less, and he always brought me news of the store. I was eternally grateful to Mrs Trump – she was priceless in the way she’d taken over for me while I’d been gone. This went on for a while, and then he came to me, as usual being locked in with me. For once, I was standing when he arrived, and he stopped dead, staring at me. I looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“You’re…you’re pregnant?’ His voice cracked on the last word, and I let myself smile.

“Yes,” I said, somewhat unnecessarily – it was becoming obvious. “I am.”

He opened his mouth, and then closed it again, clearly thinking better of what he’d been about to say. I smiled again, enjoying the expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“No – nothing,” he stammered. “How far along are you?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea,” I said quietly. “There’s no way to tell.”

He crossed the room to me, and very carefully placed a hand on my slightly rounded stomach. I stiffened, and he made to take his hand away, but I held his hand there, waiting. After a couple of moments, the baby moved, pushing against his hand. He jerked, startled, and looked at me.

“That’s…” He shook his head, unable to find the words, and I let his hand go.

“He’s real,” I said, somewhat ruefully.

“He is,” he said, but I knew he didn’t know what to say, or do, even. I smiled again, and pulled him to the bed.

“It’s alright,” I told him. “It won’t hurt him. Not yet.”

He stared at me. “What…? How did you…?”

This time, I snorted with amusement. “I just know,” I relied. “Trust me. He’ll be fine. It’s too early yet.”

His gaze dropped to my belly again, like a magnet was drawing him to it. Clumsily for once, he stepped out of his jeans, and climbed on top of me on the bed. His hands were fleeting, barely touching me, and I realised that he still wasn’t sure. I took his hands and pressed them on my belly.

“It’s fine,” I repeated. “Don’t worry about him. Take what you’ve paid for.” That worked. He jerked on top of me, and stared at me, eyes dark with shock.

“You still think that of me?”

I lifted a shoulder. “You wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t paid,” I pointed out. “Forget that. Forget the baby. Take what you want.”

His hands trembled, and then he pulled them free. He unbuttoned my shirt and pushed it away, freeing my body. His thumbs rubbed lightly over my nipples, and I shivered, before putting my hands up his shirt and doing the same to him. His mouth was following his hands, roaming all over me. I arched slightly as he touched between my legs, but it was only in passing. He wasn’t ready for that yet. He lowered his head to my jaw, following it with his tongue. I shivered again, and turned my head away from him, exposing my throat. He trailed a finger down it, and then followed with his mouth once more, stopping at the base, where my collarbone was. I writhed, barely thinking now. He scraped his teeth gently over my shoulder, and lifted his head to look me in the eyes. His were dark, nearly black, and I could see the lust in them. I moved my hands lower on his back, and tried to press him down onto me, but he resisted. He stayed where he was, and bent to his work again. I quivered when his mouth went below my belly, his fingers lightly skimming the small mound. My hands had moved again, and were now on his shoulders, gripping tight. He pressed his lips to the inside of my thighs, and I writhed again. Every touch of his sent a thrill shooting through me. I spread my legs for him, volunteering for the first time, and he rose above me, shaking slightly. I didn’t let him steady himself, urging him to join with me. He did, and I lost any thought I might have still had. His eyes were the last thing I saw, dark, and burning with something other than lust. I couldn’t place it.