I tilted my head to him and tried to play it all off. “Yep, I’m good for the best cum you’ve ever had.” I pulled him out of me and darted out from under his grasp then playfully slapped his ass, though I was a bit hurt. I needed to be more than a really good fuck, yet it was becoming apparent that was all I was. I rinsed off and got out of the shower before he did.
As I stood shivering in his inordinately large bathroom, I searched for towels. There was nothing. Only a small soap canister on the counter and a clear glass bathroom scale on the floor populated the empty pristine space. He came in also dripping and a little bewildered as he walked to the wall and pressed a panel that opened up to reveal a stack of fluffy white towels. He grabbed one and flicked it open but didn’t hand it to me, just walked over and draped it around my shoulders.
“Planning on taking off again?” he asked as he dried my body with the towel. “I’ve noticed that after we fuck, you flee. I get your history, and why you might want to do that, but I’ve already told you I’m in this until the baby is born. We’re getting married next month, Kylie. We’re committed, or at least will be when you sign the contracts.” He was all business again.
“Why were you angry when we walked in here?” I ignored his observations.
“As I’ve said I haven’t had anyone in here for a long time.”
“But I told you I’d sleep somewhere else, I don’t mind.” I stood my ground. “And am I just the mother of your child and a good fuck? I mean, I get the intrigue; I am super fucking famous, but so are you as we’ve said over and over again. Am I so much of a train wreck that you need to keep me under you naked and all sexed up?”
“How can the creator of a non-profit, a successful media identity, and a kind-hearted woman ever think she’s a train wreck?” His confusion only pissed me off more.
“Then what is it, Alec? What is wrong with you or me?” I hadn’t wanted to go there seeing that dinner was probably already on the table and getting cold.
He wrapped a towel around himself and used a small hand towel to briskly dry his hair then grabbed one last towel from the cabinet to wrap my dripping hair in, not saying a word. He walked into the bedroom and dressed in the clothes he removed from a white dresser. I was about to get something to wear out of my bag, which was on the floor near the door when he tossed a pair of soft sweatpants at me.
“Don’t worry about underwear; I plan to sex you up again.”
A T-shirt came hurtling through the air, which I grabbed on the fly.
The clothes weren’t his.
“So, um? These clothes belong to?” I felt oddly strange putting them on as they were just a little big larger than my size.
“My wife,” he said, and I almost threw up.
I stood there paralyzed as tears welled in my eyes. I knew he couldn’t offer to marry me if he was already married, but for some reason, all I could think of was that I didn’t belong, not with him, not in the lake house, and certainly not in his wife’s clothes.
I began to slip the pants off, my mind in a blur when he was on me, his hands keeping me from taking the sweats off. I dropped my towel, and my breasts laid bare to him.
“Please wear them.” He was kind and loving again.
“But don’t they belong to her?” I was shaking.
“She never wore these.” His voice choked a little. “When I saw that your belly had grown, I thought they might be more comfortable. She never got the chance to wear these.” He bit his lip. “She died.”
My heart suddenly broke for him.
Here I had thought I was the only one who’d faced tragedy, but he was struggling.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I put the T-shirt which read ‘First Time Mommy’ with two baby footprints walking across the belly.
When I looked down and saw the shirt, my emotions rioted. Part of me wanted to hate him for making me wear the shirt because it announced very boldly that I was pregnant, yet as we were just business partners in this, it also plays nicely the ‘let’s pretend we are happy we’re doing this’ scheme he’d designed. The other part of me was slowly coming to the realization that his wife had died when she was pregnant with their child.
“Come, I’m sure dinner is ready. I’ll explain when we’re downstairs.” He was quieter and more subdued.