Page 19

19

Hugo

J o was quiet on the drive back home. Hugo drove in silence, heading straight to her place. They’d been spending most nights there. He had the feeling she was more comfortable there, in a place she knew well, than in his sprawling house.

“Thank you,” she said, after he’d parked and they’d gone upstairs.

“For what?”

“For coming with me to the ultrasound, and for letting me have some time.” She stepped through the door and immediately took off her shoes. Without them, she looked even more fragile, even more lost.

What’s wrong?

“Tell me what I can do to help, Jo.”

She straightened to her full height, her face turning towards him. “You can kiss me.”

Hugo would have had to be made of stone—he would have had to be a better man than he was—to be able to resist. Two steps carried him to her. As close as he dared without crowding her. He leaned down, right into her upturned face, and brushed his lips against hers. He meant for it to be a soft kiss—what he thought she needed—but her mouth opened immediately, welcoming him inside, mimicking with her own tongue what he wanted to do to her with a different part of her anatomy.

He was the one who pulled away for air, and even then her fingers found his shirt collar, holding him there, as if to keep him from moving away. Fat chance . He wanted to spend the rest of his life right here, in her arms.

“Bedroom.” He pulled her up into his arms, enjoying the feel of her slim curves and soft heat. He strode through the small living room and into her bedroom, which was decorated in impersonal beige tones with only a few colorful pillows lightening the space—reminding him that this was a short-term rental. That Jo might not stay as long as Christmas. He staggered at the thought and had to find his footing again before she noticed. He wanted so badly to be there for her and for this baby. When had this happened? When had everything changed?

Her hands tightened against his neck. “Are you okay, Hugo?”

He leaned down, setting her down gently on the bed. “I want to be here for you. For both of you,” he said tersely.

She leaned back against the pillows, her expression unreadable in the dim light of the bedroom. For a moment, he thought she was going to say something—share the truth of what was worrying her—but then her expression went sultry, her legs opening up in invitation as one of her hands went inside her jeans. And he couldn’t resist. He wanted to be the one offering that pleasure she sought. He opened up her jeans and replaced her hand with his own, feeling her heat, the dampness on her panties that told him how much she needed this. It was a tight fit for his larger hand, and he didn’t have the right access. He shimmied her pants down her legs, enjoying the softness of her skin. When he looked up, she’d taken off her black blouse, and was wearing just her black bra and panties. A matching set. As her legs opened invitingly, Hugo groaned. He felt close to blowing his load, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

Time to remedy that .

He kissed down her belly—because after what he’d seen that afternoon, it was impossible not to think of the fact that there was a baby, nestled safe inside her, and it only made him want her more—and towards those enticing dark blond curls only just visible through the black lace of her panties. He blew on her softly, then licked her through the lace, enjoying her surprised gasp. He tasted her, but there was still that layer between them, driving him insane.

“Take them off,” she begged, her voice husky with desire. Hugo pulled them down, not caring if he ripped the lace, needing access to her. He used his hands to splay her open to him, paused for a moment, smelling her desire, his cock harder than ever before. And then, when he couldn’t take it anymore, he dug in, kissing and licking and sucking. Around her clit, on her clit, his tongue going into her sweet slit, letting her little moans and groans guide him towards her pleasure. Then, her entire body stiffened. Her leg muscles clenched, trapping his head right where she wanted it. He sucked harder, and pulled her right into the orgasm, thinking of how hard those muscles would clench around his cock.

“Damn,” he said, when she finally relaxed and allowed him to move his head. “That was incredible.”

She pulled him up against her body, kissing him, and he knew she’d be able to taste her own desire on his mouth. It drove him even harder, to the point of pain.

“You’re still dressed,” she complained. Hugo lost his clothes in record time. His cock jutted out, desperately seeking her touch. Her hand found his erection. When she wrapped her fingers around him—hard, just the way he liked it—he almost came then and there.

“Stop,” he warned, on a groan. “Or there won’t be a second orgasm.”

“I never knew I was one of those women who could have more than one orgasm,” she confessed, and fuck if knowing he’d been the first to give her multiple orgasms didn’t make him feel like a million dollars. Her fingers released him, her fingertips tracing around the head of his cock, spreading his pre-cum.

“Get inside me,” she begged. He didn’t want her to ever have to beg him for anything. He leaned down onto his elbows, not wanting to hurt her, and slowly—ever so slowly—pushed himself inside. She was hot and wet, the fit tight enough that he knew it wouldn’t take much for him to come. He breathed in through his nose, trying to steady himself, wanting to make it good for her, wanting to live up to that second orgasm he’d promised her.

“Lift your leg,” he said, pulling it up to his shoulder, spreading her even further to him. He was in deep now, and he looked at her, gauging her reaction, loving the way her mouth parted, her eyes closed, her expression rapturous. He forced himself to go slow, wanting to make it last. And then, when he couldn’t take it anymore, he licked his thumb and took advantage of this position to flick her clit gently in time with his thrusts, driving them both towards completion. He clenched his teeth, waiting, waiting … And when she went off, her inner muscles clenching around his cock, he let himself go, exploding inside her, the pleasure hotter and thicker than any he’d ever felt before in his life.

Eventually, he separated his body from hers. He could see the remnants of his desire in her sex, and it made him so hot, to know she’d let him come inside her. He wanted to smear it all over her, but instead he made his way to the bathroom and came back with a damp towel, cleaning her off gently.

“That was … incredible,” she finally said.

“You’re incredible,” he said, knowing she probably didn’t realize how serious he was. He caressed her waist, her belly. “Now, I think this little one deserves a rest, and so do you.” Jo hesitated, then nodded, curling up against him, her head on his shoulder. She was asleep moments later, and for once Hugo didn’t worry about whether he’d be able to sleep that night. Just watching her sleep felt like rest enough.

Jo

Jo tied her hair in a ponytail and faced the mirror. It was an ingrained reaction, and one she didn’t bother fighting, even though the mirror couldn’t give her any feedback.

She listened for sounds outside the bathroom, wondering if Hugo was awake. She wanted him to sleep as long as possible. He was still having nightmares, she knew, though they seemed to be coming less and less often. She wondered if he’d had one last night. After their bout of energetic love-making, she’d slept like the dead, only waking up in the morning, when her full bladder sent her an urgent warning. It seemed her bladder was much too active, which made no sense when the baby was still the size of a lime. She was going to have to ask the doctor about it during her next visit.

Her hand absently rested on her stomach. The tiny bump felt more solid today, the ultrasound last night having made it a little more real. She wasn’t showing enough for anyone else to notice, except for Hugo, perhaps. She blushed as she thought of how he’d kissed her belly the previous evening, before moving south. She shook her head. Now wasn’t the time to get hot and bothered again.

Relief hit her, that her baby was healthy, and that they were getting the care they needed. The sonogram, but also all the blood tests and appointments that had already been scheduled for the coming months. And it was all thanks to Hugo.

She opened the bathroom door and listened. She didn’t need her cane in the apartment—she’d memorized the layout as soon as she’d moved in—but she didn’t want to run right into Hugo. She heard him moving around the kitchen and smelled the coffee at the same time. Coffee. She was allowing herself one cup per day since her doctor had assured her it wouldn’t harm the baby.

“Morning,” he said. He flicked something up in the air, and it landed with a soft thud.

“Are you making pancakes?” she asked. Her mouth watered. Her nausea had ebbed now that she was entering the second trimester. She no longer felt like she was battling her body every hour of the day. Food had started to taste like food again, and the thought of eating wasn’t a chore anymore.

“Yes. Want some?” He paused. “I wasn’t sure if your stomach would be up for it.”

“Definitely.” She offered him a small smile. “I think I’m starting to feel human again.”

“Good,” he said, his tone warm. “You’ve been a trooper through all of this.The first pancake is ready.” She followed his voice to the table, where he’d already set up a full place setting for her. She felt around and found a glass. “Orange juice. I figure Cosette needs the vitamins.”

“Cosette?” Jo laughed, taking a sip. She loved fresh orange juice.

“I’m trying out names, just to give you ideas,” he said carefully. “Maybe Mercédès?”

“We’re not naming her Cosette. Or Mercédès,” she said, before realizing she’d used “we”. As if they’d be naming the baby together. As if this were their baby.

For a long time, Hugo didn’t say anything. He was too polite to do so. But she wondered if she’d scared him. She wanted to apologize, to tell him she didn’t mean it. That he’d done enough by marrying her, giving her access to his health insurance, and making sure she could stay in France. That she wasn’t expecting him to actually be part of this baby’s life. “I’m sure I can come up with more ideas,” he said lightly, in a tone that closed the conversation. “Here’s another pancake. And right in front of you, there’s a bowl of cream, some strawberries, and brown sugar. In that order.”

She nodded her thanks and cut into the pancake. It was soft and perfectly cooked but tasted like cardboard through her embarrassment.

“Aren’t you having any?” she asked.

He sat down next to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of him. “I had one while I was cooking,” he said. She could feel his eyes on her, so she took another bite. This one tasted better. If he didn’t want to talk about her faux pas, then she wasn’t going to sit here and worry about it all day.

“What do you want to do today?” he asked. “It’s Saturday, and I don’t have to go into work today.”

Warmth filled her at the thought of spending the day with him. And though a voice whispered in her ear that this wasn’t real, that this wasn’t forever, it was easy to shut that voice up. Just for today. Just for today, she wanted to celebrate the fact that her baby girl was healthy, and that everything was okay. Surely, that couldn’t be so wrong.

“I’m free as well,” she said shyly.

“Let’s go hiking,” he said.

Hiking? She hadn’t been hiking since she lost her eyesight. Her parents used to take her and Becca hiking when they were little. Jo remembered a particular trip to the Adirondacks. They’d found a black bear cub. Becca had wanted to follow it. Hell, she’d wanted to take it home. Jo had been more worried about where the mother was. The trip stuck in her mind, because it had been such a happy time for all of them—a time of joy and wonder. But things were different now. Back then, Jo could see . Now, she’d be a burden to Hugo. There was a reason she stuck to familiar places. She liked to be self-sufficient. She liked to make her own way in the world.

“You’re overthinking it,” he said. “Let me show you the mountains. You said you like the smell of Chamonix. You wouldn’t believe what it smells like up there in the summer—of pine and evergreen, and sun-warmed rocks. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

How could any woman in her right mind say no to that?