Arranged Baby

Part 22

I'm exhausted. Nowadays my vocabulary is limited to words related to "tired" or "stressed." Which I'm positive neither is good for my baby. Babies. It's so easy to forget.

"Don't lay on your stomach, Sage," Taylor says as he comes near the bed. He gently tucks a pillow next to me and pushes me to my side. "Are you comfortable?" He asks quietly, like he wasn't just being his stern self five minutes at the dinner table when Sophia asked for extra dessert without finishing her vegetables. He didn't say nothing when he handed me the bigger piece again, and I didn't even eat the pork chops (I've never liked them).
"Uh-huh," I groan, snuggling into the cushion. Where'd he get this? I hope he wasn't planning on me leaving it here, I'll definitely need to bring this home.

He delicately takes my hair-tie out, gentler than I've ever done so myself, and unties my shoe laces. I'm surprised he didn't comment on my Skechers, he has every other opportunity he's gotten.

"I'm taking your sweatshirt off," he says without waiting for a response. I'm not in the mood to do anything other than sleep.

I don't object when he takes off my shirt also, leaving me in a camisole and thin leggings. There's no point in a bra if they don't fit.

He climbs into the bed next to me without word, in only his boxers. Usually I would cringe from male intimidation, but right now I just want sleep. There is a pillow barrier between us that I am snuggling up to which will prevent me from snuggling up to him. And the way his hands are working my back..
Wait, what?
"What are you doing?" I mumble, stuffing the pillow between my thighs. What he's doing is more than relieving my back pain...
"Shh..." He says lowly in my ear, "I know your back hurts, I saw it at the dinner table..."
"You don't have to," I barely convince myself. I want to tell him to never stop, even after I give birth. Harder, I want to moan. Even at my half-conscious state of mind I know it isn't appropriate for the thoughts I'm having to be running through my mind. Baby-daddy or not. Locked-doors or not. Secluded part of the hall or-
A whimper escapes my mouth, but I do nothing to cover it. He doesn't stop, in fact he does exactly what I was mentally screaming at him for. His fingers work magic, and my insides quiver as he moves the blanket around to get closer to me, to dig his hands deeper.
His digits move up to my shoulders, my neck, back down my spine to my hips. Circles that just melt the tension off my body, I feel relief down to my deepest core. My toes curl from ecstasy, and I stopped bothering to hide the hideous noises he elicits from me.
From my waist to my stomach, his hands move. Without warning, he flips me to my back. My newly restored spine...

And his lips meet mine before I get a chance to close my eyes and enjoy the moment. His hands are at it again before I realize what he's doing to me.
Suddenly I realize how close to naked I am, how thin these layers are, how much the blanket is covering, how warm his thighs are around mine. His lips, oh Lord his lips. Lord crafted them himself, genetics had no role in creating such a form of art. They were everywhere his hands and other body parts missed. His hands were entering dangerous territory near my pants line, his lips added forming a lethal concoction for pregnancy hormones.
I pull him closer, his hips down to mine like he's done before. Flat against me, lifting himself only enough to maneuver his hands all over my exposed skin.
Not before long my lips latch onto him. Any open skin, anywhere I can mark. Anywhere I can relief whatever this is inside of me. This need to be closer, to touch him, grab him, pull him near me, and the need for him to return the favor.
My whimpers blend with our heavy breaths, he doesn't seem to mind. To test my theory, I whimper a bit louder and grab at his shoulders using more force, and just as I expected it grows.
It, being the very there bulge in his shorts.
I pull at him again, pulling him closer to me than he had allowed himself. The friction... The friction feels better than his hands. My lady parts tingle, my spine weakens, my limbs feel like jello.
"Is this okay?" He asks lustfully, looking me in my eyes. Those same piercing green eyes that had taunted me for the first two months I knew him.
Don't think about it now, enjoy this. "Yes," I whisper, pulling his face to mine.
Before I have the strength in me to object, I'm completely naked against his boxer-clad artwork of a body. Even feeling his breath tremble against my stomach muscles, I don't act on my anxiety of this being my first time, for anything.
Then I feel it, not it, but his smooth lips against my thighs.

~
I woke up before Taylor, in only my camisole and shorts, with morning sickness. Probably not the most attractive way to wake up to someone you gave oral to last night, but he's woken up next to a demon named Esperanza so he'll have to settle.
I nearly flinched when he has come behind me to tie my hair in a bun, but had to dry heave before I commented on his change in behavior towards me. Not that I'm complaining, I've been missing out.
"Are you hungry?" his voice rasps as he helps me stand up. His eyes aren't even completely open and he can barely stand himself, yet he has the decency to ask me if I want to go downstairs for something to eat.
I tell him no because I'm nauseous, though I'm really just not sure where we stand on our attitudes towards each other. I would rather go back to sleep and never wake up again until necessary to assure I'm alive. So I'm extremely thankful once we climb back into his bed and act as if nothing happened. I prefer our friendliness towards each other goes as smooth as this scenario.
Though I didn't get my three weeks of sleep I was hoping to get, I did wake up to half of the bed being empty which in this situation I am thankful for and not the slightest bit put off. I imagine Taylor doing whatever he does when he's not at his father's house, I'm not even sure if he still goes to school, but I remain un-bothered as long as I don't have to hear shit about it.

When I actually decided to get up, I'm starving and my mouth tastes gross, there's an outfit with a post-it note on top of the neatly folded clothes. 

I had Jade pick up a work professional outfit for you.

Don't worry about it, I didn't want to wake you but you're definitely late.
-Taylor

I scramble for the time, looking for my phone since Taylor isn't aware people still use actual clocks, and instead find a brand new smart phone lying on his night stand, of course with another post-it note.

Your phone was trash. Don't worry about,

I had all info/pictures transferred.
-Taylor

Irritated but in a rush anyway, I check the time to see that I'm already an hour late. After scurrying to shower and get ready, I see a set of car keys on his dresser, and of course, an annoying neon post-it note.

It's yours. Use it.

-Guess Who

I know better than to expect my car to be outside. Only Lord knows what Taylor did with that metal box. I don't have time to think about it once I'm rushing through his huge house trying to remember which hallway it is to the parking slab.
Thanks to the short distance between Sergio's office and his home, I'm not even a full two hours late. I apologize frantically to Sergio's assistant but she is insanely nice to me today, maybe tiptoeing around me due to my tantrum the other day, and tells me I was previously excused earlier today for my tardiness. We bargained with letting me stay later than usual, which I was fine with. More money I can make.

There was an intimidatingly-sized pile of papers on my desk, a lot of copies I will have to make. It's expected considering I was out longer than usual, but I'm just not feeling it today. I'm still a bit confused and there is conflicting feelings inside of me for Taylor. I don't want to be that girl that gets crazy attached once you do anything sexual with her, but Taylor has never expressed that much likeliness towards me. He wouldn't stop complimenting my body, I blush thinking back to last night, but why has he waited until now? Did I do something to provoke him? Did I advance towards him? I thought I was pretty clear when I said I didn't have to sleep in his room, and emphasized sleeping in different rooms. Is he going to be more pleasant towards me, verbally at least? He is nowhere as harsh as he was when we first met, but it makes me uncomfortable to not know where we stand.
I survived the first four hours of working without running into Sergio and having to apologize in person for being late, which I make a mental note to do it later when alone, but after eating some yogurt and nearly three fruit cups I was called down to Sergio's office.
His assistant's facial expression didn't help my nerves at all.