Filling up the Virgin(249)

Tears welled in my eyes. All I could do was nod. I leaned over and kissed his lips, glad that he was here for me, that he wasn't going to try to push me into something before I was ready. It was going to be a strange life, raising a baby with a daddy who was a billionaire and an ex-Navy SEAL. And a white boy, on top of that. My mama wouldn't bat an eyelash at the rest of it, but when I brought a white boy home to meet her, she was going to blow her top.

I put my arms around him and cradled his head against my chest. I hadn't expected any of this to happen, and I knew I wasn't ready for it. But was anyone ever really ready for a baby? The important thing was that our child would have two loving parents who would do anything to support and care for them. And I knew Jack would do whatever it took to provide for his child. Our baby wouldn't have to live through the kind of struggles my family had gone through while I was growing up. It wouldn't ever have to worry about whether there would be dinner on the table, or whether we could afford to take it to the doctor. It would grow up and go to college without ever having to worry about debt.

I cupped Jack's cheeks in my hands and raised his face towards mine. We kissed as tears of relief fell down my cheeks. After a few moments, our kiss became more urgent, filled with need. Jack stood up and took my hands, then led me out of the restaurant and to his car. We kissed more sitting in the parking lot, his hands roaming my body like we were a couple of teenagers. Then we went back to my apartment.

We headed back to the bedroom almost immediately. I worried about what Jack would think of my simple place, with my IKEA furniture and my dirty clothes strewn all over the floor. But he didn't show any signs of judgment for my middle-class lifestyle. He just focused on my needs, on my touch.

He lowered me onto the bed, gentle as can be. There was none of the urgent, athletic movement from our prior encounters. He was slow. He was tender. We savored every moment. He slowly pulled my clothes off, one piece at a time, his lips trailing kisses over the bare skin he exposed. Shivers ran up and down my body, and while part of me wanted to tell him to hurry and give me what I desperately needed, a bigger part of me wanted to cherish this experience.

We made love deep into the night, an elegant melding of our bodies into one. I lost track of time, of where Jack ended and I began, and of any worries beyond his touch, his kiss, his loving caress. Then, once it was over and our energy was spent, we lay there together as two lovers sharing each other's embrace.

Eventually Jack dozed off, and for a time I watched him sleep. My fingers traced tiny caresses along the lines of his face. I thought about the future and what it would bring. I thought about the life growing inside of me. I wondered whether it would be a boy or a girl. No matter what, this child would know love, support, and kindness in its life.

Our new life together would start the next day. I could already see it now. A new home, something simple, with no need for excessive luxuries. A big back yard our child could play in, unlike the row home I'd grown up in with barely more than a patch of scruffy grass out back. The best schools, the best care. And once our baby was grown, I knew we'd see the world together. I'd take my child to Africa, make sure it knew its roots. Recapture all of the history that my family had once lost. Laying there with Jack, dreaming of the future, I almost felt like I could actually see it all happening, like the folds of time were open to me and my baby's life was laid out there for me to explore.

In the morning I awoke with Jack still there in my arms. He opened his weary eyes and looked at me, a pleasant exhaustion etched across his features.

“Morning,” he said.

“Morning, love,” I said, smiling at him.

We kissed, then we touched, then we made love again as streams of early dawn sunlight poured over us through the bedroom window. Eventually we got dressed, lost in the quiet comfort of two people who had shared the deepest parts of themselves. The gentle romance of the moment lasted until a grumbling in my stomach reminded me that we hadn't really finished dinner last night.

“Hungry?” Jack asked as he pulled on his shoes.

“Mm-hmm.” I sighed, remembering that I hadn't stocked up the fridge since I got back into the country. “Can we go out to eat?”

“Certainly.” Jack smirked, standing up and buckling on his belt. That swagger that had first drawn me to him was back in his every step. “As a matter of fact, I know a lovely little place.”

“Oh?” I could see by the mischievous light in his eyes that he was up to something.

“In Paris,” he said. A grin slowly spread across his face.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” I said. We didn't bother to pack. Jack promised to buy me new clothes once we got there. I couldn't wait to see what the most romantic city in the world had in store for us. And it would be nice to travel around the world for pleasure, for once, instead of digging up ancient ruins and getting shot at by terrorists.