Читать книгу I Need More - Kimberley White - Страница 14

“Stay away from my wife.” Brock had carefully contemplated the repercussions of confronting Mark, and he decided he didn’t give a damn. He’d completed his five visits to the sperm bank and his surgery was two days away. He wanted his house in order before going into the hospital. He wouldn’t be able to pop into Erika’s clinic then, and he needed to know Dr. Garing was keeping his distance and staying in his own office down the hall.

Mark moved around Brock to close the door to his office. It was the end of the day, but the receptionist still lingered in the outer office, readying things for the next day’s work. Mark returned to his desk, relaxing back in his chair and making a steeple out of his fingers.

Brock wanted to break them off—one at a time. “Stay away from my wife.”

“I heard you the first time. I’m trying to figure out who your wife is. Could it be the woman you dumped without explaining why? Is it the woman I’ve been comforting the past seven months while she tried to work through her confusion? Or is it the woman I’ve been dating for four months, trying to help her piece her emotions back together?”

Brock couldn’t argue his wrongs, but he didn’t like another man being this familiar with his wife. “Stay away from her. Stay out of my way.”

“Why? Have you decided you aren’t through with her yet?”

“This is between me and Erika. If you don’t get out of the way, you’ll be hurt. I’ll see to it.”

“And you think threatening me will get Erika back? She cares about me. How could coming here help you?”

Did Erika really care about Mark? The possibility made Brock’s stomach tighten. Could she have put her feelings for him aside and fallen for another man? He never thought Erika capable of dismissing their relationship as if it never meant anything, but he never expected her to file for divorce either.

“Let’s handle this man-to-man,” Mark said. “You left her. I would never leave her. You move out of my way.”

“Erika and I aren’t done.”

Mark sprung from his chair, showing his first real hint of anger. “You can’t run back to her because you don’t want another man to have her. You don’t know how to treat her. Get the hell out of her life and stop hurting her. Can’t you see what you’re doing?”

“Don’t talk to me about my wife like you know her better than I do.”

“Don’t you be so cavalier, you arrogant son of a bitch,” Mark shouted. “I’m building something with Erika because I care about her. You run up in my office threatening me like a pitbull fighting for a piece of meat. Erika is more than that. Erika is everything. But she’s not a prize in some contest you’re trying to win. Not once have you mentioned being in love with her.” His eyes narrowed and he pounded his fists on the desktop. “You stay the hell away from her, or I’ll hurt you. Believe that.”

Brock didn’t walk away because Mark scared him. He left Mark’s office without another word because he hadn’t realized another man was in love with his wife, and it shocked him. A crush, maybe some casual dating, okay, but he hadn’t suspected Mark loved Erika. Erika might not know it, hell, Mark may not know it, but Brock saw it written all over the man’s face.

Brock learned something else during his visit. Mark’s vicious response went beyond his threat or his shouting. Brock was a man and he knew men. And he knew his wife. Erika wouldn’t be involved with such a volatile man…Mark hadn’t showed her this side of himself.

Erika is everything.

“Everything,” Brock repeated, knowing it to be true. He gripped the steering wheel, driving a little too fast to the house he’d once shared with Erika. He knew what he had to do, and no matter what the consequences, he would.

He didn’t use his key. He parked his Lincoln in the garage next to Erika’s car, testing the temperature of the hood. She hadn’t driven for a while—the engine was cool. He rang the doorbell, praying his mother would be asleep at ten at night.

“Brock?” Erika was dressed for bed, with the robe he’d given her two anniversaries ago cinched at her waist and her hair wrapped tight beneath a scarf.

“I need to talk to you.”

“Now?” She looked up at him and saw something that didn’t make her wait for an answer before opening the door to him.

They walked through the foyer into the great room, but it was open to upstairs where his mother slept in one of the three upper-level bedrooms.

“Can we go somewhere more private?”

She eyed him strangely but led him into their bedroom. She took a seat in the sitting area. He stood over her, too nervous to sit down.

“What’s going on, Brock?” she asked just as her cell phone rang.

“Don’t answer it.”

“It could be important. I’m on call.”

“It’s not about a patient.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s Mark Garing.” He knew it was Mark, because if he’d been Mark, he would have called and warned her about her crazy husband barging into his office this afternoon.

Her face dropped with guilt.

“I went to his office today.”

She ignored his directive and crossed the room to answer her phone. She held an uneasy, cryptic conversation. After assuring Mark she was fine, she rushed him off the phone, promising to call later. If there was any way he could stop her, she’d never make that call.

“He’s a friend,” Erika said.

“I know what he is. Are you in love with him?”

“With Mark? No.”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I don’t lie to you.”

He squared his shoulders, ready to do what he’d come for. “Do you love me?”

Her face contorted in confusion. “Is this because I asked for a divorce?”

“Do you love me, Erika?”

“You have no right to question me. You left me.”

“Do you want a divorce? Even if I don’t?”

She looked beaten and weary. “What’s going on with you? I know something is wrong. You wouldn’t have just up and left without a reason. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want a divorce,” he admitted.

“You’ve said that before. You haven’t told me what you do want.”

He wanted her. God, he wanted her more than anything. His entire reason for coming was selfish, but he loved her too much to care about his motives. He’d come for two reasons: to keep her from divorcing him, and to make sure she’d never leave him.

“I love you. I just can’t be with you now.”

“What are you talking about?” Anger made her nostrils flare. “Why did you come here tonight? Did you do something to Mark?”

He cursed, hating her concern for another man.

“No divorce,” he ground out.

She turned the curse word on him. “You’re making me crazy! You know what? I don’t care what you want anymore.” She charged to her dresser, yanking the drawer open so hard it fell off track and hit the floor. She dropped to her knees, fury fueling her as she tossed the contents around the room. She snatched up the glossy black packet and rushed at him with it. “You’re going to sign these papers right now! No more of this, Brock. I’m tired. I’m tired of trying to figure you out. I’m tried of worrying about what you want.” Her shouts became a choking sob. “I’m tired of trying to love you.”

He grabbed her up in a bear hug, his size no match for her struggles. He held her tight, letting her strike him until she exhausted herself. When she was done, and had melted into a limp mass, he picked her up and carried her to the bed. He wiped her tears away, kissing her gently as he removed the scarf from her head and combed out her locks with his fingers. He peeled open the robe and stripped her of her gown, slowly, patiently, watching the confusion and love intermingle in her expression.

“You’re tired of trying to love me?” He wiped away her tears. “Just love me tonight.” His lips went to her neck and she pulled his belt from the loops of his pants, her tears forgotten. “We’ll figure out the rest tomorrow,” he told her. Tonight, he wanted to make love to her as a whole man, because in two days, he wouldn’t be.

She was seven months’ wet for him, and he was seven months’ hard for her. He ran his fingers through the soft curls between her thighs, promising he’d taste her later. She pulled him on top of her, going for his mouth with unbridled desperation. He kissed her hard and deep while he grasped his raging erection and slipped it inside the tightness of her vagina. He worked her good, slow and thorough…trying to make a baby.

He was so out of his mind with love for her, he wanted it all, and he wanted it now. She couldn’t be inseminated at a clinic. He needed her to get pregnant with his child this way—while he was loving her. A baby would take a complicated situation and make it more complex, but he wasn’t thinking straight. He needed to love Erika and know she needed to love him. He needed to know she wanted him to be the father of her children. He had to know she loved him that much.

“We’re going to make a baby,” he told her, working his hips in tight circles.

Her passion dissipated enough for her to come to her senses. “Use a condom. I’m not taking the Depo shots anymore.”

He didn’t have a condom, and he didn’t want one. “Forget the condoms.”

Her body froze beneath him.

“No condom.” He continued to work his hips, adding sensuous kisses to her breasts. He palmed her cheeks, looking deep into her soul. “Make love to me, Erika.”

She cared about him so much she agreed, easily falling back into rhythm with his hips. It was good—much better—than he could remember it ever being. She was tight and wet and hungry for him. He’d always envied her ability to openly express her emotions, regardless of the consequences. She was never guarded about how she felt, and was an expert at exposing herself while making love. She took him quickly to the final phase of his orgasm, joining him at the last second before he filled her. He pumped hard through his climax, ensuring she received every drop of his sperm, because this was how he wanted her to become pregnant with his baby.

“Where are you going?” he asked, encircling her wrist.

“To clean up.” She smiled down at him.

“Don’t go anywhere.” He pulled her back down on the bed, enfolding her from behind. He slipped his hand between her thighs, measuring how much of his sperm had been lost. He’d learned the value of every ounce when he masturbated on the Michigan Cryogenic couch. His finger dipped inside her sweet walls, sampling her wetness, and she shivered. He added a second finger, and kept them there, falling asleep atop the comforter with Erika in his arms.

He awoke a few hours later when Erika tried to disentangle herself from his hold.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she pleaded with a cute giggle when he tried to stop her from leaving the bed.

The master bath was down the hall, past the twin walk-in closets and a linen closet. The master suite was large, running beyond the length of the house. He listened to the faint sound of running water and wondered which sink she was using—his or hers. She returned to the bedroom with a warm cloth and began cleaning him, stroking his cock until it sprang to life again. When her touch became too intimate, he removed the cloth from her and finished the job himself. He couldn’t have her discovering the cancerous lump on his right testicle—not now, and not this way.

He tossed the cloth away and pulled her into his arms, pressing his erection into her back. He turned her chin, meeting her mouth in a sensuous kiss, spurring them to go at it a second time. He caressed the lines of her body, admiring the lush curves making her a woman. He buried his nose in her neck and inhaled her feminine fragrance. He lifted her thigh and placed it over his, nudging his penis back inside her plush walls where it belonged.

His original horny energy had been spent, so he could love her for a long time. He palmed her breasts, working his penis into her from behind as she moaned. His fingers danced across her belly and separated her curls until they found her swollen clit. He massaged her with slow swipes of his fingers until she panted and begged for more. His nails bit into her thigh as he spread her wider, leveraging more penetration with the thrusts of his hips. She began to piston, pushing her lush ass into him. He mimicked her motion, pulling her body tightly against his. He was whispering nonsensical words in her ears when he came, her following a split second later.

“I love you,” she said, instantly falling asleep.

An hour later, Brock realized how much his body had missed Erika. She was curled up against his chest, her thigh wrapped around his and her fingers gripping his thigh. He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position for his brutally hard penis. Having her entwined with him brought all her intimate places in contact with his skin.

Seven months had been too long and his body had grown oversensitive to her presence. Each soft breath she took rippled over his skin, setting him on fire. He inhaled, deeply absorbing the fragrance of their previous lovemaking, and the smell of it made his balls tighten and lift. He licked his lips and found remnants of Erika’s sweetness. The sight of her plush breasts pressed into his side forced him to stroke a finger over her nipple. She moaned at his touch and his manhood throbbed.

“How long have you been awake?” he asked her.

“A while.”

“Did you do this to me?” He rotated his hips, and his jutting erection sliced through the beams of moonlight intruding on their night by pushing in through the slivers in the patio blinds. This is how possessive he’d become of Erika—he didn’t want to share her with the moon or the stars.

“I might have had something to do with it.” She tilted her head up to look at him, wearing a telling grin. She wanted to play.

“What are you going to do about it now?”

“Hmmm.”

“Why don’t you climb up here while you’re thinking?” He pointed to his erection, which was ready to be a willing participant in their game.

She straddled his thighs, waiting patiently for his next demand.

“You’re a very mischievous woman.” He placed the tip of his finger in his mouth before he pressed it into the nest of soft curls at the top of Erika’s thighs.

She wiggled her hips, angling to put pressure against her slit.

“Don’t move,” he growled. He was hard enough to explode without penetration, and he wanted this to last a long time. When she settled, he buried his finger a little deeper, careful not to brush her engorged bud, then traced her slit from top to bottom with an agonizingly slow stroke.

Erika moaned, thrusting her hips forward, and pressing her hips down onto his finger.

“Don’t move. Lock your hands behind your head. I want to look at you.”

She moved quickly to give him the view he desired. Her breasts were full and heavy. He tested their weight in his hands, his fingertips gliding easily over the soft flesh. He touched every inch, ignoring the hardness between his thighs as he teased Erika into matching his state of readiness. He saved her nipples for last, plucking at the twin buds until they were hard and ready to burst.

“Up,” he told her, pressing his hands into her thighs until she came up on her knees. Now he had access to her plump bottom. He took the globes into his palms, kneading them until Erika’s thighs quivered. She would fight her excitement and let him manipulate her body even though she was glistening wet—because he’d told her not to move. He pushed her limit, letting his finger venture into the crease between her ass cheeks. She’d never let him explore her, always letting her fear overwhelm her at the last minute. Tonight she let him gently, delicately stroke the puckered hole. She found what he’d told her to be true. The area was ultra-responsive to his touch, igniting new sensations and taking her to an unprecedented level of readiness.

His hand went back to her slit, leaving her panting. Her chest was moist with perspiration brought on by her struggle to control her need.

“You’re dripping wet,” he told her. He placed his longest finger at the entrance to her cavern and pushed. He stopped at the first knuckle and a violent shiver went through Erika’s body, but she never dropped her hands from behind her head. He added a second finger and pushed farther, farther, and farther until his palm was pressed into her soft curls.

Controlling her pleasure, knowing he mastered her body and directed the release of her orgasm made his erection weep. He gritted his teeth, but not controlling his needs as well as Erika, he used base words to illicit what she wanted from him.

“I can’t…wait any…longer,” Erika ground out. Fine tremors racked her body while her thighs tensed, caging his waist beneath her.

“Then take what you need,” he told her, pulling his fingers away quickly, shocking her with their sudden removal.

When she grabbed his erection, his back bowed off the bed. He was turned on by how badly she wanted him. Her touch was aggressive as she frantically placed the tip of his penis at her opening. As badly as she wanted him, his size kept her from impaling herself too quickly. She moaned, falling forward to rest one palm in the center of his chest while she used the other hand to fit him inside.

He almost exploded before she could take him all in. Her eyes were closed, her features twisted in pleasurable pain. He fisted his fingers in her hair and brought her to him for a kiss. His lips moved slowly, thoroughly over hers—a direct contrast to the frenzied movements she was making with her hips. She pulled away, preferring the vehement thrashing of their bodies to the tenderness of his kiss.

She came quickly, without warning. Her entire body shook. She let out a loud cry. Her walls tightened around him, rhythmically milking the length of his shaft. Before he could thrust his hips, he was filling her with the volcanic explosion of his climax. Exhausted, she dropped down on him, her cool, wet body extinguishing his heat. He held her close, refusing to let her move.

He had come to Erika in a panic, his ego more than a little bruised after his meeting with Mark. Possession drove him. Desperation filled him. He couldn’t let her go. No matter what the right thing to do was, he loved her and he needed her.

But he’d messed up things so badly between them he didn’t know exactly how to fix it. She was asking for a divorce. Mark was waiting for him to give her one. He was ill, his future uncertain. His method of winning her was irrational, but he wasn’t in a place to be sensible right now. So he held her tightly, not wanting her to move, or have the opportunity to wash away his seed, because his irrational, desperate, possessive mind told him the only way to get Erika back was to give her his child.

He awoke early the next morning, not necessarily wanting to explain his presence to his mother. Not until he could explain it to Erika, or himself. Erika wasn’t beside him, but he heard running water from the master bath. It was early, but he remembered Erika and Ginnifer golfed on Sunday mornings.

He left the bed and eased down the hallway, thinking to surprise her. They could make love in the shower like they used to before she dressed to hit the golf course.

“Good morning,” he said as he entered the bathroom.

“Hi.” She downed a pill with a big gulp of water.

“Headache?” He kissed her as he held her from behind, admiring how right they looked together in the mirror.

“No.” She held up the blister packet with two tiny pills—one of them missing—and his heart sank down into his stomach. “Plan B. I had Ginnifer bring it this morning. She’s waiting out front. Today’s our golf day. Remember? Do you want me to cancel so we can talk?” she asked, reading his expression wrong.

He shook his head, unable to speak. She’d taken the morning-after pill. He turned away, pressing his lips together against a string of violent curses. His temper flared in unjustified anger. There would be no baby.

His mind shifted, seeing his rage for what it truly was: hurt. He was devastated by her rejection. His world began to spin, everything was out of his control—his health, his marriage, his disproportionate love for Erika. All the intimate wishes he’d shared with her during sex were enough to excite her and heighten the encounter, but she didn’t really want to make a baby with him.

“We should still talk,” she said, her concern worrying her brows.

“I’ll call you.”

She turned to him, making him face her. “I’m glad you came. Last night was good. Like you haven’t been away.”

He leaned in and kissed her forehead.

“Brock?”

“You better get going. I’ll leave before my mother wakes up.”