Dying For You (23 page)

“Help yourself.” He was just standing in the middle of the room, like he wasn’t exactly sure what to do. Which was problematic.

She gobbled both chocolates, then started taking off her body armor, short-sleeved T-shirt, black leggings, black socks, black running shoes, and white panties.

“What are you doing?” he said, sounding almost—startled?

“Like I’m going to make a baby with body armor on. Don’t just stand there. Strip.”

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Yes, Chris, I
know
. Strip.”

Still moving like his limbs were barely thawed, he started taking off his clothes. Belt, shirt, khakis, socks, shoes (in no particular order, she noted). Simpsons boxer shorts.

“I’ll overlook the shorts, but afterward, we really have to talk.”

“Did I make fun of your underwear?”

“You were thinking it,” she said, taking his hand and leading him to the bed. She was trying not to stare, and failing—miserably. He was just—superb. Long lean limbs, broad shoulders, lightly furred chest, slightly dazed green eyes. And what looked to her like a rather sizeable erection, jutting stiffly upward toward his taut stomach.

“Chris?”

“Mmmm?”

“Do you
want
a baby with me?”

He blinked. “A Goodman-Mere baby? I could care less.
Our
baby? Sure. Oh. You’ll have to marry me once you’re knocked up. Or maybe next week.”

“Good,” she whispered in his ear. “Because I want one, too. So get me pregnant. Right now.”

Finally, he snapped out of the trance and nearly fell on her as he bore her to the bed, his lips frantic over hers, his tongue probing, his teeth gently nibbling her earlobes, her neck, her cleavage. His hand spread her thighs apart and stroked the tender skin of her inner thighs, which made her shiver beneath him.

He moved lower so he could pull her nipples into his hot, wet mouth, sucking greedily, even gently biting her, and the sensation shot from her breasts to her toes in half a second. And now he was gently stroking the hot throbbing center between her thighs, making her strain against him, making her groan, making her plead.

He needed no such encouragement, just returned his attention to her mouth while spreading her legs a little wider. He broke the kiss to gaze into her eyes, as his hips thrust against hers, hard.

“Ow!”

“What, ow?” he panted.

“I just wasn’t quite ready for you.”

Sweat stood out on his forehead, and she could see him gritting his teeth as he forced his hips to be still. “Wasn’t ready for me?”

“Well. This is kind of my first time.”

He gaped at her. “Kind of?”

“Okay. It’s my first time.”

He started to roll off her, but she grabbed him by the elbows and managed to keep him in place. “A virgin?” he practically yelped. “You’re a virgin, and you didn’t say anything? And
why
are you a virgin?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she snapped back. “I’ve spent my whole life training to kill you, or in school. When the hell would I have time to lose my virginity?”

“Okay, okay, don’t get your guns. I was just—surprised. I’ve never done it with a virgin before.” He squinted thoughtfully. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Could you not reminisce about other sex partners when you’re inside me?”

“Sorry, sorry. Does it still hurt?”

“It’s a lot better.” A whole lot better. Almost…delightful? Yes, delightful, the hot friction between her legs was no longer a burning pain but instead a thrilling amusement park
ride, where she went up and up and up. He was thrusting against her with such care she almost wept. And he watched her face every moment.

Again, shuddering all over, he stopped. “Hurts?”

“No.” She strained against him, trying to create her own friction. “Oh, no.”

“You’re…” He wiped his thumb on her cheek and showed her the tear. “Crying.”

“I’m just so happy. Right this minute is the happiest moment of my whole life.”

“What whole life?” he teased, continuing to stroke and surge into her. “Ah, God, Rhea, you really shouldn’t say things like ‘give me a baby’ and ‘I’m so happy.’ It’s hell on my self-control.”

“You’re doing all—oh!” She felt an all-over tightening and held her breath, and then her orgasm—her first
assisted
orgasm—blew through her like a hurricane, leaving her trembling in his arms.

“Oh, Christ!” Then he was groaning and shuddering against her, and she felt even more warmth between her legs than before.

“Uck. You made me sticky.”

His head, which had been resting on her shoulder, jerked up. “Uck?
Uck?
You’re hell on the self-esteem, too.”

“Not uck for the sex. Uck for immediately after the sex. I mean—yeesh. I’d better clean up.”

He clamped down on her arms and squeezed. “Don’t you dare move,” he growled. “No fair ruining the afterglow.”

“Oh, was I wrecking pillow talk?” she teased.

“To put it mildly. You came, right? I was pretty sure you came.”

“Oh, yes.”

“That’s great. Usually I have to go down on—”

“Stop.”

“Sorry. Boy,” he added cheerfully, grinning at her, “your dad is going to shit when we tell him what we were up to in Beantown.”

“Now who’s wrecking the afterglow? Why did you bring up my dad? Now I have to call them so they won’t worry.”

“Be sure to mention your recent deflowering.”

“Thanks for the advice.”

“And our upcoming wedding.”

She shoved and punched and finally kicked him off her. She sat up in bed and didn’t bother with the sheet, and could see the admiration in his eyes as he looked her over from head to foot. “I didn’t hear a proposal, buster.”

“Oh, stop it. You totally fell under my spell, and you know it.”

“Ha!”

“What else do you call this?” he asked, gesturing to them both. “But magic?”

“You’re a bag of sentimental mush.”

“One of us should have a feminine side.”

“Shut up,” she retorted, then grabbed the phone and started dialing.

Power and Flower made it to Mass General in record time, given rush-hour traffic, and went at once to the maternity ward. Flower was carrying a teddy bear. Power had a gaily wrapped box with a big blue bow on the top.

“Excuse me,” he said to the charge nurse. “My daughter, Rhea Goodman Mere? She’s having a baby? Can you tell me what—”

A shout interrupted him. “And stay out!” Punctuated by the clatter of an emesis basin slamming into the wall.

“Never mind,” Flower said. “We can find her.”

They turned and walked down the hall in time to see their son-in-law practically sprint into the hallway. “All right, all
right
!” he yelled back. “Don’t come crying to me when you forget how to do your breathing!”

“Chris, darling!” Flower called, hurrying up to him and giving him a hug. “We came as soon as you called.”

“Happy birthday, by the way,” Power added, handing Chris the gaily wrapped box. “A milestone. You’re to be congratulated.”

“I found
three
gray hairs on my head this morning, and your daughter—and my daughter—are directly responsible. I’m only thirty-two, and I’m going gray!”

“Well, nobody forced you two to get married and have babies,” Flower said gently.

“Quite the opposite,” Power muttered.

“And don’t worry about Violet Number Two; she’s at home with her aunties and uncles.”

“Great. If she points a toy gun in my face and pretends to shoot me, I’m holding both of you responsible.”

“We can’t help it that ‘kill the witch’ is everyone’s favorite childhood game.”

“It’s not everyone’s—”

“What are you doing out there?” Rhea shouted. “Taking a poll? Get your ass in here!”

“Coming, coming!” He gave his in-laws a final, harassed glance before going back through the gates of hell.

“The baby will be your birthday present!” Flower called after him.

“Doubt it,” Power said, glancing at his watch. “It’s almost midnight.”

“Second babies always come faster.”

“She’s only been in labor for four hours.”

“Darling. It’s
Rhea
.”

“That’s true,” Power said, and sat down with his wife to wait for another Goodman-Mere baby.

“And…it’s a boy!”

“Oh,
great
,” Rhea groaned. “What was I thinking? I
knew
it hurt like a bastard, and I let you knock me up again anyway.”

“Hold on a minute, Mom, we’ll get him cleaned up, and then you can hold him.” The nurse had to shout over the baby’s wails to be heard.

“Listen to the lungs on that kid,” Chris said happily. “A chip off the old maternal block.”

“Shut up.”

“And he’s gorgeous.”

She perked up, as much as she could in her exhausted state. “He looks okay? I figured he was okay from all the yelling. Violet Number Two did the same thing when she was born.”

“Here he is, Mom!”

Rhea stared down in wonder at the tiny, perfect face. The baby was looking up at her with the blue eyes of a fair-skinned newborn, and she wondered if they would go dark like hers, or green like Chris’s. She hoped they would be green, because…

“Welcome to the world, Christopher Goodman Mere,” she said softly, and kissed her baby at the exact moment her husband kissed her on the top of her head.