“She deserves to know.”
“Maybe if she wasn’t pregnant.” I opened my scheduling book on my desk and checked my appointments for the next day. I had a late start. “I don’t want to stress her out unnecessarily.”
“Fair enough. But if the gifts get any more sinister, you’ll need to come clean.”
“The gifts aren’t going to get anymore sinister,” I said, snapping my appointment book shut. “Look, we’re not telling anyone about the baby until after Tully’s wedding next week. Honey wants to meet the family first, so try and keep this to yourself before then.”
An amused smirk spread across my brother’s face and a roguish gleam took up in his eyes. Trying not to chuckle, he patted me on the back. “Just make sure I’m there when you tell Mom. I wouldn’t miss that for the fucking world.”
He started laughing as he walked away.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
Twenty minutes later I finished up in the studio and headed for home.
HONEY
I stood under the spray of warm water and let the gentle needles of warmth crash against my skin and spread their calm over my body. Slowly my muscles began to relax. The last few days had been tiresome. It felt like I was on my feet and at the bakery all the time. The store was doing well, and Sailor and I seemed to always be rushed off our feet, which was awesome for the business account, but hell on my body.
Knowing I was exhausted, Sailor insisted I take a day off. And I’d known Sailor long enough to know he’d just nag at me until I did.
Now I had a day of nothingness stretching out before me. Nothing to do but put my feet up and forget about cupcakes and customers, and running around trying to make everything work and ensure all the pieces to fit.
I sighed and lost myself in the relaxation as the water pounded over my shoulders, the steam seductively drawing me into a euphoric trance.
Despite my exhaustion, my body ached with longing.
Weeks of no sex was playing havoc with my body, and it was tight with need. I let my hand slide between my legs and felt the flare of pleasure as my fingers brushed over my achy clit. I exhaled deeply and moaned as another surge rolled through me. My fingers were a poor substitute for Caleb, but they would have to do because I needed an orgasm, and as soon as I pressed against my clit, I knew it wasn’t going to take long. I bit down on my bottom lip and closed my eyes, letting my mind wander free. Letting it imagine whatever it wanted. With whomever it wanted.
And apparently that was Caleb.
Caleb touching me.
Caleb claiming my mouth with his mouth.
Caleb touching my body with his body.
I pictured him in the bathroom with me. His glorious body naked amongst the steam. His face dark with heated promise, his eyes molten with desire. Beneath his touch my body creamed. Desire roared through me. My body trembled and I started to come. I fell against the wet-tiled wall and cried out, my orgasm slowly sending me to the floor of the shower in a weakened, quivering mess.
I took a moment for my heartbeat to calm and my breathing to even out. And then I started to laugh. Loud. I felt relieved. The tight, antsy need was gone, and in its place were softened, loosened limbs and a mind lost in a post-orgasmic haze.
Feeling deliciously content, I peeled myself off the floor and got myself dried and dressed, ready to make some dinner and settle in front of the TV for the rest of the afternoon.
To my surprise, Caleb was in the kitchen when I came out of the bathroom. I was surprised because I hadn’t heard him come in. Standing at the kitchen sink, he was shirtless and in nothing but a pair of jeans sitting low on his hips. He was drinking coffee, his broad back to me, his big muscles pulling and tensing with every movement.
Even after the delicious orgasm I’d just had, my clit throbbed and my muscles ached to be fucked.
I stopped walking and my cheeks reddened, the thought just occurring to me. Had he heard me moan in the shower? The walls were paper-thin in our apartment, I knew this because Caleb didn’t realize I could hear his moans when he jerked off in the shower in the mornings. And I had been quite vocal mid-orgasm.
“Hey,” I said, leaning a hip against the counter.
He turned around and his hard chest and ridiculous six-pack gleamed in the late afternoon light.
“Hey, yourself.” He smiled. “Coffee?”
I pulled a face. “No, thanks. If I have even a drop it’ll make me vomit.” I rubbed my belly. Last week I couldn’t get enough black coffee. This week, not so much. “Your baby is fussy.”