Falling Stars (46 page)

When
the waiter arrived and asked for our drink order my first reaction was to order
a something with a lot of liquor. Serena quickly reminded me I couldn't. After dinner,
we returned to the hotel, and that night I locked my bedroom door.

It
took almost three full days before I spoke to Christopher again. He'd tried
numerous times to call me and see me, but I always kept him at bay. I needed
the time to think without persuasion and I really had thought about it.

Thankfully,
we had a tight schedule that kept us busy.  We got some rehearsal time in a
local studio, interviews – both morning and afternoon radio shows, and we also
got to do a
Meet the Artists
type of promotion.  Sitting at a table, we
were able to autograph CDs, shirts, pictures, and stand for photos with fans. 
Even with
The Forgotten
being at a table near ours, I was still able to
keep myself distanced from Christopher during the day.  At night, alone, I had
time to think.

My
career was just beginning and there was no time for a baby. I had no clue about
being someone's mother, hell I was still immature and irresponsible. But no
matter how rational my arguments were against having the baby, it came down to
one simple question.
Could I do it and live the rest of my life without the
guilt or just live with myself?
The answer had been as clear as the day I
found out I was pregnant.

With
the morning came the typical morning sickness. It had really started to take
effect and I wanted to call this whole pregnancy off. It was completely
barbaric that there was a pill to give a guy a hard on, but not one to stop me
from heaving my guts out in the morning, or afternoon, or whenever fuck my body
wanted. One semi-positive was sleep started to come even easier for me and no
matter how much I would sleep it was never enough. It was about eight in the
evening when he showed up in my room. I was half-asleep when I heard the door
shut loudly.

"Sorry,
I didn't mean to shut the door so hard." His brow was furrowed and the
bags under his eyes were dark purple. "Mia –"

"Chris,
please don't start yelling at me or ordering me around tonight. I'm –"

"I
promise, I won't yell. I won't even speak if you don't want me to. Just let me
hold you, please?"

My
fuzzy vision cleared to the sadness in his face.

"Christopher
–"

"Just
let me." It was no longer a request.

The
bed shifted as he crawled toward me and curled his body around mine. He pulled
my face to his chest hugging me tightly. His hand found my stomach and rested
there. My body relaxed into his and I knew I needed to tell him.

"I've
decided –"

"Not
tonight."

"Will
you let me finish?" I pushed away from his chest. "I promise not to
do it."

A
large breath of relief left him. Then his lips collided with mine. He began
moving over my jaw and down my neck. The smile on his lips and the viper bites
pressed into my skin. The hand on my stomach was now gripping my hip. His lips
returned to mine and our tongues sparred.

My
hands found his hair and gripped tightly once his hand cupped my breast,
massaging. I moaned into his mouth, his actions became more urgent, pushing my
shirt up, and pressing his lips between my cotton covered breasts.

The
cotton cups pushed up, his mouth explored my body. Writhing under his touch, I
couldn't control the feral moan escaping me when the metal tongue ball rolled
over my nipple.

"You
like that, don't you?" He slid the ball over me again.

He
pressed between my thighs and the rock hard erection hit the spot. I gasped
loudly. Abruptly, he stopped all ministrations. I groaned in annoyance.

"Did
I hurt you?" Worry all over his face.

I
smiled and tugged his hair teasingly.

"No,"
I smirked and pulled away, figuring the moment was lost. Christopher pinned me.

"Where
do you think you are going?" Growling, he sucked my breast between his
lips. I shivered in pleasure.

Now
he knew the power his tongue ring had on me, he started working it to his
advantage. My hands fisted his damp black locks while pressing my hips forward
for friction. Before I knew it, my shirt was off and my sweatpants were at the
bottom of the bed. He pulled his shirt off and lay back down over my body.
Hooking my feet into the top of the pajama bottoms, I pushed them down. My
inner hooker took immediate notice that he was commando. She slipped into the
smuttiest cheerleading costume she had.

Nothing
was between us. My bare skin felt like it was smoldering against his. Every
touch, every movement made my skin flame with desire. Wiggling my hips beneath
us, a surge of craving ran through my body. His hardness grazed my wet heat.
Attacking my mouth ferociously, he positioned himself and connected us. I
ground my hips into his.

"Oh
yes, yes, yes." I moaned.

"Gnugh,"
he grunted, "Ungh".

Our
breathing labored when we pulled away from each other's lips. My mouth found
his pebbled nipples and my hands held onto his shoulder as his thrusting
increased. The smoldering collected into my stomach and started to build a
larger flame. Christopher shifted his position.

"Mia,"
he moaned into my shoulder.

Pulling
his head back, I took my face in his hand and stared into his eyes.

"Thank
you," he whispered, "for having my baby."

Then
he hit a perfect spot and I bit down on his arm to muffle my scream. The salty
taste of his skin caressed my taste buds. He didn't even flinch.

His
muscles tensed and his forehead came down to my shoulder. Raising my hips to
meet his thrusts, he came undone inside me. Slowly riding out his orgasm, his
breathing remained heavy against my chest.

When
his arms could no longer support him, he rolled off me and pulled my back against
his chest. He moved away for a minute, but came right back covering our bodies
with a blanket.

"Mia?"

"Hmm?"

I
didn't know if I wanted him to say anything at this moment. We didn't really do
the talking thing. We just slept, and now apparently have sex and a baby.
Mentally I groaned. What a great start for this relationship.

"I'm
sorry," he whispered into my hair.

"For?"

"I
mean you obviously don't want to be pregnant and I'm sorry I, well that I –"

"Knocked
me up," I laughed.

He
didn't.

"It’s
okay, Christopher. I'm sorry this happened to you too."

He
rolled me over quickly and looked directly into my face. It stunned me for a
moment.

"W-what?"
I stuttered.

"Don't
apologize to me for this. You have nothing to apologize for, ever." He
cupped my cheek and kissed my forehead before letting me roll back to my side.

"Um,
Christopher?"

"Yeah,"
he settled back into position behind me.

"What
is your favorite color?"

He
chuckled.

"What's
my favorite color?" he continued to laugh.

"Shut
up. I don't know anything about you –"

"You
know more about me than anyone else," he laughed again.

"You
know what I mean, jerk," I nudged him. "So, besides being an
arrogant, groupie fucking, asshole with super sperm, who crashes in my bed,
what else can you tell me?"

He
was silent for a moment.

"Is
that what you really think?"

I
sighed.

"Yes.
No. A little, but you have to admit we don't know much about each other."

"Like?"
He pressed.

"Okay…here's
an example: what is my middle name?" He was silent. "What is my
favorite color?" He was silent again. "Exactly." I whispered. "Don't
you think –?"

"Red,"
he answered.

"Green,"
I smiled.

"What's
your middle name?" he asked.

"Marie,"
I groaned.

"Mia
Marie?" He tried to hide his laughter, but his shaking chest gave him
away.

"It's
Amelia Marie."

"You
don't like it?" He asked.

I
shrugged. "It's alright I guess. Serena got the better name."

"I
disagree," he said. "Hey, I have a question."

"Which
is?"

His
finger ran from the top of my spine to the crack of my ass. "What's this?"

"Music
notes." Sarcasm laced my words.

He
tickled my side.

"Stop,"
I screamed.

"I
mean what song is it, smart ass. I know they're notes, but I'm not familiar
with this song." His finger ran down my tattoo again.

"My
mother used to sing us the song 'Baby Mine' when we were younger." For a
brief moment, I closed my eyes and remembered the last time I heard her sing
it. "God, her voice was amazing."

"Like
yours." He squeezed me.

"Better.
She was fantastic." I sighed. "Anyhow, I decided I wanted a tribute
to my mother, so I got a hold of the sheet music and had my favorite part
tattooed on me."

"So
these are the musical notes to the song?"

I
nodded.

"I
don't think I know this song."

Turning
onto my back, I looked at his face. He was trying to think hard.

"You've
never seen
Dumbo
?"

He
shook his head.

"If
I did, I don't remember it or this song. Wanna sing it for me?" He
grinned.

"No,"
I chuckled turned back onto my side.

"Come
on." He kissed my shoulder.

I
closed my eyes and sang the verse on my back. As I sang, his hand ran up and
down my tattoo.

"It's
pretty."

Content,
I nodded.

"Are
you going to sing it to our baby?" His hand flattened on my stomach.

"Maybe,"
I said quietly.

We
spent the next hour lying there asking questions about each other and our
family. Christopher was a little concerned about John being a police chief,
trained and licensed to shoot a gun.

"Of
course I get the cop's daughter pregnant." He groaned.

Laughing
at his whining, we actually continued to talk to each other. Sometime after the
question and answer session, we fell asleep.

*
* * * *

Relief
and excitement fought for domination when she told me she was going to have the
baby. However, nervousness won when I found out that a police chief's daughter
was pregnant with my child. I cannot wait until that meeting.

"
Hello
sir, I'm the guy that had unprotected, premarital sex with your baby girl. Oh
and by the way, I knocked her up. Boom. Dead. RIP Christopher Masen.
"

The
morning came quickly, a little too quickly for Mia. I jerked from a very sound
sleep when she staggered from the bed to the bathroom. Getting up, I pulled on
my sweatpants. Halfway to the bathroom I could hear her heaving and rushed to
her side.

"Are
you okay?" I knelt next to her.

She
nodded and then heaved into the toilet, again. Grabbing the robe from the door,
I threw it around her.

"Get
out," she groaned, leaning her head against the wall.

I
furrowed my brow. "What can I get you?"

She
weakly shoved me away.

"Get
out," she groaned.

When
I didn't move, she huffed.

"You
don't need to see –" she heaved again. Her hair fell around her like a
curtain. I pulled it away and held it back.

As
she started to stand up, I caught her around the waist and helped her walk back
to the bed. She curled into a ball, breathed in, and out threw her nose in a
heavy rhythm.

Stepping
out of the room, Serena was sitting with Ryan on the couch watching cartoons.
Their heads turned to me.

"Cwis,"
Ryan smiled.

"Hey
little man," I answered quickly, moving toward the refrigerator for a
bottled water. On the way back to the bedroom I turned.

"Serena?"
she looked up. "What can I get for her?"

"What
do you mean?" Her brow wrinkled.

"She's
sick." I rubbed the back of my neck.

She
smiled.

"Ahhh…morning
sickness."

I
looked at her impatiently.

"It
comes with being pregnant. She was feeling this way at night last month. I'll
order some food for her."

"Ok,
thanks." I went back into Mia's room and she wasn't in bed. Rushing to the
bathroom, I barged in.

She
screeched.

"Shit!
Christopher!"