“Sweet punishment,” I cooed, stretching my leg over Christian’s thighs as the sun entered our room and announced the morning. “When do I get to punish you?”
“When I say so,” he replied, dropping a kiss on the top of my head and wrapping me into his embrace. “Sleep a little. We have a few hours before the stores open and you’ll have the pleasure of shopping for my Christmas present.”
Most of my holiday shopping was done. The only gift left was Christian’s, and I still wasn’t sure what to get him. He never asked for anything specific. Plus, when he did, it always had to do with buying something I’d use-you know, for our mutual pleasure.
“I’m meeting Ally for lunch. Who said I’m going shopping?”
“Fine. Be like that. Don’t buy me a present.” Pretending to pout, he stuck out his lower lip and I couldn’t resist a quick kiss.
“How do you know I didn’t buy it already?”
He laughed, patting my shoulder so I could move over. “It isn’t under the tree. I checked every box you’ve decorated so fancy with those pretty ribbons.”
“Well,” I breathed, tossing my hair over my shoulder and giving him a stern look. “Perhaps you’ve been a bad boy and won’t be getting a present this year? Especially after all the foul language you employed last night.”
“I didn’t hear you complaining.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think. Santa makes those decisions.” Licking my lips, I raised my palms up and acted all confused.
“Fine. I see what it’s like. Use me and dump me like that.” Snapping his fingers, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and got out. “Looks like you don’t have much use for me in the daylight hours. Double standard for sure.” He shrugged his broad shoulders and stood over the bed. “I remember the plans. Have fun with your sister. I’ll just stay home alone and watch the tree lights reflect off other people’s presents.”
I squinted against the early morning sunlight, admiring his perfect physique. Christian carried his six foot three frame with sculpted muscle from head to toe. Toned and perpetually tanned, he certainly resembled a Roman god. No matter if the ground was frozen and carpeted with fresh snow, it steamed below his feet.
“I love you,” I said, smiling and reaching for his hand. “Last night was amazing.”
He sat back on the bed, looked at our intertwined fingers, and cleared his throat. His thumb caressed the inside of my wrist, and I could see that his mind was occupied with something. I had a haunting inkling on the culprit, but I didn’t want to argue again. I didn’t want to give him reason if I was mistaken.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I’m great.” He nodded and looked up and straight into my eyes. “Want to join me in the shower and conserve water?”
He knew I couldn’t. We hadn’t showered together since our anniversary. Besides, if we showered together now, it would lead to making love again. Ejaculating too often could reduce the potency of his sperm. Even the repeated sex last night could have done that, but the sex was so amazing and we were so engrossed in each other that I’d forgotten about our baby plans for a few hours.
I shook my head. “Go ahead without me. I’ll put on the coffee.”
He didn’t get up, but he did let go of my hand and fisted his together. “Kat, were you fertile last night?”
Damn, here was the talk I’d tried to avoid. I didn’t want to fight. But, I wasn’t about to lie, either.
“Yes.”
“So, this willingness to try new things was solely attributed to an ovulation test?”
“No,” I said. “Not solely.” Originally it had been, but once I was with him, I had wanted Christian more than I had in months. “Last night was really amazing. I haven’t been so excited in ages, and my orgasms were out of this world.”
“So, does that mean that you’re now willing to stop doing that damn test twenty-four-seven and enjoy our life again?”
“I do enjoy our life,” I insisted. “Don’t you?”
Christian had suggested we try to be more spontaneous, not limit our lovemaking to the bed, and not keep it only at night. I listened, I tried. It wasn’t easy for me to seduce him the way I had. Actually, that wasn’t true. Once I had the guts to get things rolling, it was great. I’d enjoyed it to no end and the thrill still raced through me. I could have told him, but I wasn’t ready.
Running his palm down his face, then rubbing his shoulder, Christian certainly didn’t look encouraging. He didn’t say a thing.
“You wanted variation. You said something adventurous, so I did that. Did I do something wrong?” The silence made my stomach roil and the thrill disappear. I crossed my arms over my abdomen. “Talk to me, Christian. Let’s not do this again. We need to talk.”
“You really want me to talk?” He faced me, sharing his dismay and disappointment. “Will you listen?”
I nodded.
“It’s not that I don’t want a baby,” he said, lowering his gaze and taking an audible breath. “It’s that I don’t want to lose us in the process. Sometimes I feel like nothing more than a stud horse, here to perform when the test says I should.”
“But-”
“No buts,” he interrupted. “That is how I feel. You asked, so listen and don’t try to justify what has been going on.”
I’d never thought of him that way. Had I?
No. I loved him. He was my world. Each and every time he touched me, I went up in flames. Sharing a total of ten years together had not put a damper on the way I felt about or reacted to him. I was simply working on what we both wanted. He was the one who had originally suggested that the moment was right to start a family.
“The only time you want to be together is when the test says it’s okay.” His gaze narrowed as he rubbed his fingers over his knuckles. “I don’t know what to think anymore? Have we already lost each other? It’s not the variety that’s the real problem. It’s the stud horse issue.”
The heaviness on my chest made it impossible to inhale, so I rolled my lips tightly, scraping my teeth over the bottom one till it hurt. My heart broke, and I whimpered in pain.
How could he think those things?
“I love you,” I whispered, unable to stop the tears from spilling down my cheeks.
He cupped my chin and wiped his thumb over the moisture. “I love you more,” he said, brushing his lips across my mouth. “And there is no way in hell that I’m going to let what we have fizzle out. You need to get used to the idea, and you need to trust me and in our future. Our relationship will grow and become a greater part of us with each day that passes.”
Resting my forehead on his shoulder, I agreed. The baby would come when the time was right. Neither one of us had issues in that department. The doctor had confirmed that little detail. We needed to make sure that we were good with each other and that we didn’t forget why we were together in the first place. Christian and I were a WE.
We loved each other. We’d play hard and laugh each day. We’d grow old together and enjoy the journey. That was our original plan and that was what I had to focus on.
“I’ll be done in a few minutes. Meet you in the kitchen.” Kissing the top of my head, he rose to his feet.
I sighed my relief that he hadn’t removed the lingerie and noticed Super Spermy. It was dark last night and thankfully he hadn’t seen it. I’d scrub it off before I made him feel worse. My tramp stamp was a thing of the past.
Ally waved across the crowded dining room, beaming with joy. She had news to share and she was bursting to tell me about it. A quick hug and a flurry of kisses later, she took my hand and offered me the chair next to hers.
“I’ve met the man of my dreams,” she blurted out. “He is to die for.”
“Hold on, hold on,” I said, cautiously broaching the subject. Ally was bouncing back from a divorce and she was susceptible to being taken for a ride. “Start at the beginning and tell me where, who, and how.”
Zane had bumped into Ally on the Friday after Thanksgiving at the mall. Being crowded, like it always is on Black Friday, they shared a table at the food court. The rest was history as they say in the land of romance.
“I’m happy for you,” I said, squeezing her hand. “When do I get to meet him?”
“He’ll be back by Christmas day. Dinner?” Ally said, smiling her secret message.
“Good. What should I cook?”
“Zane is a vegetarian. He doesn’t eat meat or chicken. But other than that, he’s easy.” Sitting on her hands, Ally swayed side to side. She never cooked, other than to burn her scrambled eggs. So it was clear that dinner would either be at my house or out on the town. And since the holiday meant impossibly long table waits, I was cooking.
“You’re the best,” she added, grinning real big.
“Yeah, yeah,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders and mimicking her sway. “I can’t wait to meet him. Get back to me with the exact night.” I really couldn’t wait. I hadn’t seen my sister so happy in a long, long time. She practically glowed with excitement.
“Kat?” She placed her hand on mine. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why haven’t you drilled me, yet? You always ask a thousand questions when I meet a man.” Her forehead wrinkled in concern as she swept her thumb over my wrist.
“I don’t have to ask. Your baby blues are twinkling like nuts.” It was obvious how she felt. What I wanted to know was how he felt about her. Ally didn’t pick winners in the past, and I didn’t want to see her get hurt.
“Okay.” She sipped on her straw and eyed me over her glass, assessing the situation in her own logical manner. She may have been a bad judge of character when it came to her men, but nothing got past her when it came to me. “Tell me about that far away look in your eyes. Did you have a rough night?”
“Yeah, but not in a bad way.” The sigh that escaped my lips was an accident. I didn’t mean to concern her more. “The night was great. Didn’t get much sleep, though.”
“Oh, did you wear the new lingerie?”
I nodded. “New teddy, different location, funky positions, and even some spanking-”
Gagging on her Diet Coke, Ally covered her mouth with her right hand and raised her left palm out to me. “TMI, sis. TMI.”
“What?”
I rarely spoke about my sex life, but she’d never had a problem sharing. She couldn’t take offense. No way.
“Spanking changes the rules.” She covered her ears and shook her head. “I don’t need all the details about an old married couple’s night activities.”
“That’s the problem.” My voice cracked and I needed a moment to compose myself. “Christian wants to spice things up. He says things are good, but he’s scared we’re going to settle into a stale routine if we don’t vary things a little.”
“That isn’t a problem.” She waved her hand at the air and swatted away my distress. “We buy more lingerie, pick up a good read or two, maybe a video, and if you’re willing, go for a waxing. He won’t know what hit him.”
“There’s more,” I admitted and her shoulders drooped. “He wanted variety, so I tried. I tried seducing him in the living room-”
“Ew.” She shivered and shut her eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t do it on the red chair. I love that freaking chair.”
“No. Not the chair.” I didn’t elaborate on where. She didn’t need to squirm when she placed a mug on the coffee table. “Anyways, we had an awesome time. The best in months. But this morning, he told me he felt like a stud horse and implied that I was only being physical to conceive. As if I don’t care about or love him.”
Ally let out a loud breath and rubbed her temples. Her lips twisted in dismay as she looked everywhere but at me. After a long time, she stretched her arms behind her neck, lifted her long brown hair, and met my gaze.
“You’re obsessed with getting pregnant,” she said.
“No,” I objected. “I mean, it’s important to me, but I’m not obse-” Damn, I sucked at lying. My cheeks were flaming and I could barely put two words together. “Yeah, I guess I’m obsessed.”
Waving off the waiter, she used the menu to shield us from the neighboring table. “Go back a few years and heed your own advice.”
The sad thing was that I knew exactly the moment in time she was talking about, and I knew the advice. When she’d confided in me about how miserable she had been with her ex, I’d told her to leave him and live her life. Ally had tried to justify staying with the jerk because she was getting too old to start over. She wanted children before she was too old to enjoy them.
“If a mom and dad aren’t happy together, it only hurts the children,” she said, reminding me of my closing argument. “Do you love Christian?”
“More than I thought possible,” I whispered.
“Then, tell me. What should we do?”
“Make the waxing appointment and go shopping,” I said, determined to show my husband how much I really did love him.