Making the Baby

CHAPTER 4: Harker

CHAPTER 4: Harker

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Harker made himself a drink and waited, his eyes going back to the bedroom door time and again. He wanted to watch Alison undress for him, but they could do that later. The idea of redoing their wedding night appealed to him in a basic way.

He’d never considered getting married until it’d been marry Alison or find another woman to have his baby. It was only temporary but the thought of her being his wife, belonging to him made his d**k harder than anything had in a long, long time.

What was taking her so long? He glanced at his watch. It’d only been ten minutes, but f**k it, that was long enough. He tossed back his drink, walked to the door, lifted his hand and stopped. He didn’t knock on his wedding night. He turned the knob, but it was locked. s**t. Had she changed her mind, decided that she didn’t believe his story? The only thing that kept him from panicking was that this was the only door to that room. “Alison?”

“I need more time,” she said.

“Oh. Okay.” He could deal with that. He made himself another drink and paced.

She’d be naked by now. She was probably trying to get into some confusing lacy thing with more straps than Psalms in the bible. He certainly hoped she didn’t expect him to unfasten all of them. The way he felt right now, tearing them off with his teeth was much more likely to happen.

He’d almost lost her today. It wouldn’t have been forever. He could’ve reasoned with her, convinced her that no anger was worth millions of dollars, but it would’ve delayed him. He was done waiting for her. He’d waited almost a year. He wanted her and their child. He wanted her body under his, surrounding him, clinging to him. After last night he wanted her again and again and he wanted her now.

He walked back to the door. “Do you need help?” It was the least he could do. She was wearing the lingerie for him. Not that he needed it. Naked was always better—her on the bed with her legs spread and her p***y wet and pink, waiting for him would suit him just fine.

She didn’t answer.

He put his hand on the knob and turned. It opened. He stepped inside. Alison stood with her back to him at the foot of the bed like on their wedding night. He put his hand on the door frame to steady himself as all his blood rushed to his d**k. She looked exactly like she had on their wedding night—hair hanging loose, that white confection of a nightgown hiding nothing.

She turned toward him. “I found this in my stuff.” She touched the lingerie. “Ellie must’ve snuck it in my bag. She’s kind of a romantic. I know you’ve seen this one and if you want me to change—”

“Don’t.” His voice was so thick and rough with need that he barely recognized it.

She was even more beautiful than on their wedding night. She was sober and her eyes were soft with longing. Under the translucent fabric, her n*****s pebbled, dark and tight—for him. His gaze dropped to the juncture between her thighs. Was she wet for him too? He was so going to find out.