Surrogate and Wife (13 page)

J
ake didn't like to think of himself as a weak person. Hell, he supposed no one did. But Kate… Kate was his weakness.

She made him question decisions he'd made with confidence. Made him want things he couldn't have. Like her. And their baby.

For the first time in his life, he didn't just want a woman sexually. He wanted her love. Her trust.

Kate didn't trust him.

That much had been obvious the night she reached for a condom even though he promised he hadn't been with anyone else.

And she didn't trust him enough to open up to him.

Jeez, to hear her talk the other night, you'd think the divorce papers were all ready to go, just waiting to be signed. For all he knew, she still planned on filing for divorce the second Hatcher was elected and her career
was safe. Hell, it was possible their time together meant nothing to her.

Yeah, it had always been in the back of his mind that this was a temporary situation, but things were different now.

Making love to Kate had changed everything.

But Kate needed some convincing. He needed to prove to her she could trust him. And, damn it, he had every intention of doing just that before making love with her again.

At least, that had been his plan Monday morning when he left the house early and stopped by the doctor's on the way into work. But getting the test results had taken longer than expected. Three days to be exact.

By Thursday afternoon, he had the clean bill of health from his doctor in hand. Just what he needed to prove to Kate that he was trustworthy.

At five-thirty, when she still wasn't home, he wasn't worried. After all, she probably hadn't left work right at five, and she might be stuck in traffic. By seven-thirty he was wearing a path in the rug from the front door to the back. Sure, she'd worked late before, but this was ridiculous. He'd tried her cell several times but either she wasn't answering or she was out of range.

By nine-thirty, he'd planted himself on a kitchen chair, midway between the two doors, and sat with his elbows propped on his knees.

When the front door finally opened at ten to ten, he no longer knew what he felt: fear, anxiety or outright anger.

When she entered the bungalow, her gaze went immediately to his. “You're home,” she said, sounding a little surprised.

“You're late,” was all he managed to grind out.

She frowned. If he hadn't been so annoyed, he might have found her expression of confusion amusing.

“I had dinner with Beth and Stew.”

“You should have called.” He didn't bother trying to keep the exasperation from his voice.

But as soon as he said the words, he knew they were a mistake. Her eyebrows snapped together and her shoulders stiffened.

“I didn't call, because I didn't know you'd be here.”

Her response set the warning bells in his head ringing, but the surge of emotions roiling within him was too strong to tap down. He just couldn't keep his mouth shut.

“You still should have called.”

“
You
didn't call.” She crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze narrowing.

“I was at work,” he defended. “You knew I'd be late.”

Why were they even talking about this when all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss her? Peel off a couple of layers of clothes and spend the rest of the night exploring her body. Finding all the hidden sensitive hollows.

“Oh, right.” Her voice practically dripped with sarcasm. “I was supposed to know you wouldn't be home until after midnight
three
nights in a row because on Monday you left me a note saying you'd be late.”

He shoved his hand through his hair. “This isn't what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Then what
did
you want to talk about? I'm sure you can come up with something else to criticize me about. But if you don't mind, I'd rather skip it tonight.”

With that, she spun on her heel and headed for her bedroom.

Guilt stabbed through him. How had this gone so badly? Gotten so out of hand?

Hell, he didn't know. All he knew was he couldn't let her storm off to her room again.

He caught up with her in the hallway. “Wait.”

Maybe she heard the desperation in his voice or maybe she was just as tired of fighting as he was. Or maybe he was just lucky. Whatever the reason, she stopped.

She didn't turn to face him, but merely cocked her head to the side. Under the circumstances, he was happy to get at least that from her.

“I didn't mean to…”

What? He asked himself. Act like a total ass? Antagonize you? Alienate you?

Finally, in lieu of a babbling admission of guilt, he settled for, “I was just worried.”

This time, she did turn to face him. Her expression softened—just a little—but most of the anger had left her voice. “I don't need you to worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I know.” But knowing that didn't ease the powerful urge within him to protect her, to make her his.

He kept that to himself. She was so strong. So independent. She'd never approve of his cavemanlike urges. For that matter, he wasn't sure
he
approved of them. He certainly never would have pegged himself as that kind of guy.

Not wanting to reveal any of that to her, he changed the subject. “I saw my doctor on Monday.”

“Your doctor?” Her forehead furrowed in concern. “Why? Is something wrong?”

He pulled the printout of his test results from his back pocket. “I had myself tested again.”

He held out the folded paper, but she didn't take it from him. “I don't understand.”

“Everything checks out. Got the all clear, so to speak.”

Finally, she took the paper from him, but she didn't unfold it or even look at it. “You did this for me?”

“I wanted you to trust me. I wanted you to know I hadn't lied to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to know you can trust me. I want—”

“No.” She shook her head. “Why does it matter to you?”

It took a second for her question to sink in. “Because I care about you.” Since she still hadn't read the test results, he gestured to the paper she clutched in her hand. “Aren't you going to look at them?”

Kate forced herself to unfold the paper and stare at the results. Part of her brain registered the words typed on the page. The all clear, to use his term.

But most of her mind was still focused on his words. He cared about her. He wanted her to trust him.

She thought of what Beth had said just that evening. About how she was too independent.

After so many years of trusting only herself, could she trust anyone else? Could she forgive herself if she didn't at least try?

Carefully she folded the paper and handed it back to him. “Okay.”

He narrowed his gaze as if he wasn't quite sure he'd heard her correctly. “Okay?”

She nodded. “Okay. I'll give it a try.”

Part of her wished she could give him something more solid than, “I'll try.” But he seemed to accept it for the major step it was. The hopeful smile that crept across his face was all the proof she needed that she'd made the right decision.

When he pulled her into his arms, she felt not only the familiar stirrings of desire, but also a tiniest thread of fear. This was all so new. So fraught with emotional sand traps. But she shoved her fear away, burying it deep within.

She'd only said she'd try to trust him. Surely she could do that without getting hurt.

 

Jake woke to the smell of Kate lingering on his pillow and the sound of her showering in the bathroom.

For a few minutes he lay in bed, just listening and remembering. His erection hardened beneath his cotton boxer briefs as he thought of how responsive she'd been last night. How she'd groaned, deep in her throat, every time he sucked her nipples into his mouth. How her skin had somehow tasted both sweet and spicy. How she'd moaned his name again and again as she rode him to ecstasy.

He'd never forget what it was like making love to Kate. But there was one memory that he'd cherish even more. The tentative smile on her face as she told him she'd trust him.

For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why she got to him in a way no other woman ever had. Maybe it was because she was the mother of his child. But he didn't think that was it. That alone, he could have understood.

But this crazy compulsion he felt not just to make love to her but to protect her and be with her, to dig through the layers of her personality until he really knew her, that was what he couldn't understand.

Until he did, he was more than willing to sublimate all the other stuff for the one urge he
did
understand. The urge to make love to her. To imprint himself on her, body and soul.

He rose from the bed and made his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he realized she was humming so softly, it could barely be heard over the water. The room was thick with steam and the scent of her lavender shower gel.

For a moment he closed his eyes, remembering how he'd once pictured her in a bubble bath, her skin moist and warm from the water, the crests of her breasts just visible above the bubbles.

Someday, once the baby was born, he'd make love to her in the tub, but for now Kate naked in the steamy shower would do.

He stepped out of his boxers. Her eyes popped open at the rattle of the shower curtain against the rod. A faint smile curled her lips as she watched him step into the shower.

Shampoo bubbles mounded on her head. Beads of water clung to her eyelashes and skin, converging into rivulets that sluiced down her chest. Her nipples were hardened, dusky pink against her creamy skin. Her hips swelled gently out from her waist, which still appeared surprisingly narrow given her growing belly.

He wouldn't have thought it possible, but he felt his erection swell even more. Only then did he realize he'd never seen her naked before. Not in the daylight. Not when he could really look at her.

He felt a ridiculous surge of pride as he stared at her ripe body. After a minute, he sensed her stiffening. His gaze returned to her face to find her smile had faded.

“Believe it or not I used to be quite fit.”

Part of him wanted to laugh at her obvious insecurity over something he considered so beautiful. But he knew better.
That
would get his butt kicked out of this shower faster than anything.

Instead he closed the distance between them and
cupped her jaw in his hand, urging her to look in his eyes, to see the truth of his words.

“No woman has looked more beautiful to me than you do right now.”

“Yeah, right. I'm a real pinup girl. Big hips, bulging belly—”

He pressed his lips to hers to stop her babbling. Despite whatever fears she might be harboring, he felt her mouth melt under his, her body sway against him. The swell of her belly brushed against his erection, sending pleasure arching through his body.

He had to force himself to pull away from her embrace. He did so only because he desperately wanted her to believe him.

“You said you'd trusted me.”

A flicker of hesitation flashed through her eyes. Then she nodded. “Yes.”

“Then trust that I won't lie to you. Ever.”

She seemed to be searching his gaze, looking for insincerity that he knew she wouldn't find.

His hand slipped down to caress her belly. “You can't imagine how the sight of you turns me on. Seeing you like this, knowing that I did this to you, that this is our baby…it's the most erotic thing I've ever seen.”

Her mouth once again curved into a smile. A little hesitant. A little bashful. But still so achingly sexy he could hardly stand it.

Once again he pulled her to him, to make her trust his words with his touch. He poured all of his pent-up emotion into his kiss, to let her feel the power she held over him.

With gentle and loving hands he tipped her head back, rinsing the shampoo from her hair. His fingertips fol
lowed the trail the bubbles left across her shoulders, down the arch of her back and over the swell of her buttocks.

Her head tipped back exposing the length of her neck to his mouth. Her skin was warm and moist and tasted sweet, like fresh rainwater. He could spend a lifetime kissing this neck. Feeling her pulse leap beneath his lips. Hearing her moan his name. Running his hands across her silky smooth skin and cupping the weight of her breasts in his palms.

He wanted this moment to last forever. He wanted to imprint it on his memory. But an even stronger force drove him on—the urge to make her his, to push himself into the moist folds of her flesh and to bury himself deep inside her.

His hand slipped farther down her body. His fingers burrowed through her curls to the sensitive skin that lay sheltered between her legs.

Her legs parted, granting him access, and he quickly found the hardened nub. Massaging her with his thumb, he sank his finger deep inside her. A low moan tore through her, and he felt her orgasm building with every stroke of his thumb.

He held her in his arms as she trembled with her release, watching every flicker of ecstasy that crossed her face. Knowing he'd brought her to that state gave him a surge of pleasure, as well.

As the last shudders of her orgasm pulsed through her body, he murmured, “I want to be inside you.”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Now.”

He started to reach behind her to turn off the water—they could be in his bed in mere minutes. But before he could, she turned around. Bending over, she planted her hands firmly on the shower wall.

He didn't need more encouragement than that. Nudg
ing her knees slightly apart, he sought and found her entrance. He plunged into her with a single thrust. They both moaned aloud.

The pleasure was so intense, at first he could hardly move. She arched her back, urging him deeper. He slipped his hand around her to once again find her nub before thrusting into her again and again. Her moist folds seemed to cling to him, massaging his shaft, bringing him pleasure unlike anything he'd ever experienced with another woman.