But she doesn’t stop there. She comes over to where I am lying on the couch (I slept there because I’m such a gentleman, although there is no baby in this fantasy, so I’m not sure why she slept over at all but this is my fantasy dammit and I say what goes, and also I am naked) and this time, when she takes off her shirt, she stretches out above me straddling my hips with her thighs, taking me inside her, rocking her body over mine. She says my name softly, over and over again, her long hair grazing my chest, her eyes locked on mine, as she works us both into a frenzy, and gradually my name gets louder and louder and louder, her hips moving faster and faster and faster until —
“Fuck…” The orgasm hit me suddenly and ferociously, and I groaned all the way through it, my hand yanking furiously on my cock.
A few minutes later, I was toweling off and feeling much better about myself, even if I was still slightly out of breath. Clearly that was all I needed—to feel in command of my thoughts, my body, my life.
Everything was going to be fine.
Five
Emme
“Are you sure I need all this?” Nate looked suspiciously at the two full carts of baby gear we’d collected in our two hours at Babies“R”Us and shook his head. “She’s only one baby. How can one baby need so much stuff?”
“It’s not that much stuff. It’s the basics.” I pushed the cart that held Paisley and some of the smaller things, while Nate followed behind with a cart full of bigger items. He had decided on a Pack ’n Play with a detachable bedside sleeper instead of a crib, a swing, a stroller, a changing table, and a video monitor system. In my cart were bottles, formula, diapers, wipes, diaper cream, onesies and sleepers, baby shampoo, detergent and dish soap, baby wash, bottle scrubbers, burp cloths, towels, sheets for the sleeper, a few baby care books, and a sling.
“What is that?” Nate asked when I added the sling to the cart. “Some kind of backpack?”
“It’s a sling,” I explained, “so you can carry her around but still have your hands free.”
He took it out of the cart and put it back on the shelf. “No way. I am not wearing my baby. I’ve got to draw the line somewhere.”
I took it down again and put it back in. “Just get it. If you don’t want to use it, fine, but you are going to get very tired of carrying her around all the time, and there won’t always be room to push a stroller.”
He grumbled, but he let me keep it in the cart. What he did insist on was a little brush for her hair.
“It looks silly all sticking up like that,” he said, frowning at his daughter. “I think I can do better.”
Paisley did well while we shopped, fussing only once or twice, but she seemed to like the car ride and fell asleep on the way there. As for Nate, he was holding up pretty well, I thought. His color was good, he had lost that wide-eyed, I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening look, and outwardly at least, seem to have accepted his new reality. There was a moment of panic at the checkout, however, as he watched all of the bath items being scanned.
“I don’t even have a bathtub,” he said, his voice shaking a little. “What am I going to do?”
“Kitchen sink,” answered the elderly woman ringing him up. She shrugged. “That’s how we always did it in my family.”
“Kitchen sink. Right.” At that point, Nate went a little pale. He looked at me, desperation in his eyes. “Are you… Can you help me the first time?”
I checked my phone. It was going on two, and I really needed to check in with my bride. The ceremony wasn’t until five, but there were pictures at four, and I had to be there. “Maybe,” I told him. “Let’s finish up here, and see what time it is when we get back.”
He nodded, handing over his credit card when everything had been rung up, and he didn’t even blink at the total. Whether it was because his pockets were that deep or he was simply distracted by the terrifying thought of giving Paisley a bath in his kitchen sink on his own, I had no idea.
Back at his apartment, I changed, fed, and burped Paisley while he unpacked the bags and assembled the swing and the Pack ’n Play. They looked totally incongruous in his bachelor pad living room. “I have to say, I never saw this coming,” I told him with a grin. “Nate Pearson putting together baby furniture.”
He grimaced. “I didn’t either.”
“I think she’s ready for a nap,” I said, looking down at Paisley in my arms. “And I have to go. Want to try the swing?”
“Aren’t we going to give her a bath?” His expression was a little panicked.
“We don’t really have time, Nate. I’m sorry. I have to get to work.” But at that moment, I wished I could blow off work and stay here with him all night.
“Oh. Okay.”
“You’ll be fine, I know it. You’re so gentle with her, and babies are actually pretty resilient. Just fill the sink up a little ways with warm water, keep her sitting up with one hand, and use the other one to wash her.”
“What about her hair?”
“Use a cup. Tip her back, let her lean into your inner arm, and pour the water over her hair to get it wet and rinse it afterward. If you get a little water in her eyes, it won’t hurt. And Nate?”
He looked over at me as if he were afraid to hear what was coming next. “Yeah?”
“You really have to wash her well. All the…nooks and crannies. Know what I mean?” I looked at him pointedly. “It’s really important for a baby girl so she doesn’t get infections.”
Nate went completely white, but he nodded.
“You okay? Maybe you should sit down.” For a moment I was afraid he might faint again.
He took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m fine, and you can go.”
He didn’t look fine, but I couldn’t stay any longer. I walked over and placed the drowsy Paisley in his arms. “I’ll check in on you tonight, okay?”
“Okay.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “I’m really proud of you. A lot of guys would not be doing this.”
“Truth?” he asked quietly, his eyes on the baby in his arms. “Right now, I wish I was more like a lot of guys.”
“Well, you’re not.” I slid my hand from his shoulder to his back and rubbed it, trying to ignore the way my heart quickened at the feel of his solid, warm muscles. “But you know what? It’s okay to admit that.”
He looked at me, and my hand stilled. “Thank you,” he said.
Kiss me, I thought. And before I could do anything stupid, I took my hand off him, gave him an encouraging smile, and got the hell out of there.
Resisting Nate Pearson, handsome playboy, was one thing.
Resisting Nate Pearson, handsome single dad, was quite another.
I wasn’t sure I was up to the task.
I went home and changed into work clothes, trading my jeans, tank, and cardigan for one of the understated suits I wore to client weddings. I tucked my hair into a low chignon and refreshed my makeup, keeping it subtle and soft. My job was to blend into the background, not stand out. While I got ready, I thought of nothing but Nate and Paisley across the hall, and I had to stop myself from knocking on his door to check on him before I got in the elevator. I still couldn’t believe he had offered to keep her for an entire month. A month. What had possessed him?
I kept thinking about it as I headed for the Ford Piquette Plant, where the wedding was being held. Was it Rachel’s insinuating that he wouldn’t be able to handle it? Was it her accusation that he would have tried to pay her off instead of support her? Nate had only given me the bare bones of their conversation on the way to Babies“R”Us, but even from his thirty-second explanation, I thought I had a decent feel for what had been said. Nate had felt insulted enough to go on the offensive, to make an outrageous offer that he’d probably thought she would never accept–I imagined him operating much the same way in divorce arbitrations.
Or was there more to it? I know it sounds crazy, but the way he’d looked at me the entire time he’d been on the phone with her made me feel like his posturing might have had something to do with me, or at least what I had said to him the night before. Was he showing off for me? Could he possibly care that much what I thought?
“Fuck…” The orgasm hit me suddenly and ferociously, and I groaned all the way through it, my hand yanking furiously on my cock.
A few minutes later, I was toweling off and feeling much better about myself, even if I was still slightly out of breath. Clearly that was all I needed—to feel in command of my thoughts, my body, my life.
Everything was going to be fine.
Five
Emme
“Are you sure I need all this?” Nate looked suspiciously at the two full carts of baby gear we’d collected in our two hours at Babies“R”Us and shook his head. “She’s only one baby. How can one baby need so much stuff?”
“It’s not that much stuff. It’s the basics.” I pushed the cart that held Paisley and some of the smaller things, while Nate followed behind with a cart full of bigger items. He had decided on a Pack ’n Play with a detachable bedside sleeper instead of a crib, a swing, a stroller, a changing table, and a video monitor system. In my cart were bottles, formula, diapers, wipes, diaper cream, onesies and sleepers, baby shampoo, detergent and dish soap, baby wash, bottle scrubbers, burp cloths, towels, sheets for the sleeper, a few baby care books, and a sling.
“What is that?” Nate asked when I added the sling to the cart. “Some kind of backpack?”
“It’s a sling,” I explained, “so you can carry her around but still have your hands free.”
He took it out of the cart and put it back on the shelf. “No way. I am not wearing my baby. I’ve got to draw the line somewhere.”
I took it down again and put it back in. “Just get it. If you don’t want to use it, fine, but you are going to get very tired of carrying her around all the time, and there won’t always be room to push a stroller.”
He grumbled, but he let me keep it in the cart. What he did insist on was a little brush for her hair.
“It looks silly all sticking up like that,” he said, frowning at his daughter. “I think I can do better.”
Paisley did well while we shopped, fussing only once or twice, but she seemed to like the car ride and fell asleep on the way there. As for Nate, he was holding up pretty well, I thought. His color was good, he had lost that wide-eyed, I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening look, and outwardly at least, seem to have accepted his new reality. There was a moment of panic at the checkout, however, as he watched all of the bath items being scanned.
“I don’t even have a bathtub,” he said, his voice shaking a little. “What am I going to do?”
“Kitchen sink,” answered the elderly woman ringing him up. She shrugged. “That’s how we always did it in my family.”
“Kitchen sink. Right.” At that point, Nate went a little pale. He looked at me, desperation in his eyes. “Are you… Can you help me the first time?”
I checked my phone. It was going on two, and I really needed to check in with my bride. The ceremony wasn’t until five, but there were pictures at four, and I had to be there. “Maybe,” I told him. “Let’s finish up here, and see what time it is when we get back.”
He nodded, handing over his credit card when everything had been rung up, and he didn’t even blink at the total. Whether it was because his pockets were that deep or he was simply distracted by the terrifying thought of giving Paisley a bath in his kitchen sink on his own, I had no idea.
Back at his apartment, I changed, fed, and burped Paisley while he unpacked the bags and assembled the swing and the Pack ’n Play. They looked totally incongruous in his bachelor pad living room. “I have to say, I never saw this coming,” I told him with a grin. “Nate Pearson putting together baby furniture.”
He grimaced. “I didn’t either.”
“I think she’s ready for a nap,” I said, looking down at Paisley in my arms. “And I have to go. Want to try the swing?”
“Aren’t we going to give her a bath?” His expression was a little panicked.
“We don’t really have time, Nate. I’m sorry. I have to get to work.” But at that moment, I wished I could blow off work and stay here with him all night.
“Oh. Okay.”
“You’ll be fine, I know it. You’re so gentle with her, and babies are actually pretty resilient. Just fill the sink up a little ways with warm water, keep her sitting up with one hand, and use the other one to wash her.”
“What about her hair?”
“Use a cup. Tip her back, let her lean into your inner arm, and pour the water over her hair to get it wet and rinse it afterward. If you get a little water in her eyes, it won’t hurt. And Nate?”
He looked over at me as if he were afraid to hear what was coming next. “Yeah?”
“You really have to wash her well. All the…nooks and crannies. Know what I mean?” I looked at him pointedly. “It’s really important for a baby girl so she doesn’t get infections.”
Nate went completely white, but he nodded.
“You okay? Maybe you should sit down.” For a moment I was afraid he might faint again.
He took a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’m fine, and you can go.”
He didn’t look fine, but I couldn’t stay any longer. I walked over and placed the drowsy Paisley in his arms. “I’ll check in on you tonight, okay?”
“Okay.”
I squeezed his shoulder. “I’m really proud of you. A lot of guys would not be doing this.”
“Truth?” he asked quietly, his eyes on the baby in his arms. “Right now, I wish I was more like a lot of guys.”
“Well, you’re not.” I slid my hand from his shoulder to his back and rubbed it, trying to ignore the way my heart quickened at the feel of his solid, warm muscles. “But you know what? It’s okay to admit that.”
He looked at me, and my hand stilled. “Thank you,” he said.
Kiss me, I thought. And before I could do anything stupid, I took my hand off him, gave him an encouraging smile, and got the hell out of there.
Resisting Nate Pearson, handsome playboy, was one thing.
Resisting Nate Pearson, handsome single dad, was quite another.
I wasn’t sure I was up to the task.
I went home and changed into work clothes, trading my jeans, tank, and cardigan for one of the understated suits I wore to client weddings. I tucked my hair into a low chignon and refreshed my makeup, keeping it subtle and soft. My job was to blend into the background, not stand out. While I got ready, I thought of nothing but Nate and Paisley across the hall, and I had to stop myself from knocking on his door to check on him before I got in the elevator. I still couldn’t believe he had offered to keep her for an entire month. A month. What had possessed him?
I kept thinking about it as I headed for the Ford Piquette Plant, where the wedding was being held. Was it Rachel’s insinuating that he wouldn’t be able to handle it? Was it her accusation that he would have tried to pay her off instead of support her? Nate had only given me the bare bones of their conversation on the way to Babies“R”Us, but even from his thirty-second explanation, I thought I had a decent feel for what had been said. Nate had felt insulted enough to go on the offensive, to make an outrageous offer that he’d probably thought she would never accept–I imagined him operating much the same way in divorce arbitrations.
Or was there more to it? I know it sounds crazy, but the way he’d looked at me the entire time he’d been on the phone with her made me feel like his posturing might have had something to do with me, or at least what I had said to him the night before. Was he showing off for me? Could he possibly care that much what I thought?
