Pieces of You(71)
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a condom. “I changed my mind. I want you to come with me inside you.”
He carefully shrugs out of his jeans and boxers and I watch in amazement as he slides the condom on. His body is amazing. Even after four weeks in a cast, the ripple of his muscles, the way they flex as he moves, is mesmerizing.
He eases himself into position between my legs and takes my left hand in his right hand. He laces his fingers through mine, as if we’re about to start dancing, and looks into my eyes.
“I’ve been writing a song for you, but it’s not finished yet.”
I smile the kind of smile that penetrates down to my heart and through my bones. He smiles as he kisses the back of my hand.
“But I want to sing to you. Do you mind?”
“Of course not.”
I can tell right away when he starts to sing that it’s not one of his songs. He sings low at first, almost a whisper, then a little louder until I can hear some of the lyrics and I recognize the song: “Bloom” by The Paper Kites. His eyes and voice are full of such tenderness. I can feel each word, each syllable, wrapped in love as he delivers them to me, fills me with them.
When he’s finished, he kisses my forehead. “I love you.”
He keeps a firm grip on my hand and I hold my breath as he guides himself into me.
“Is that okay?” he asks as he watches my reaction.
“Yes, yes, yes,” I whisper as he grinds into me. “It’s very okay.”
He presses his lips to the inside of my wrist before he drapes my hand over the back of his neck and kisses me slowly. His mouth moves in time with his hips. His breath is hot in my mouth as he speeds up, the friction between us lighting me up.
“Oh, babe,” he breathes. “I missed being inside you.”
He slows down again, stretching me gently as he plunges deeper. I’m already sensitive from the attention he paid to me a few minutes ago. I’m getting so close to a bone-shaking climax, but I can tell he’s only just begun.
I pry his lips away from mine and look him in the eye. “I’m gonna come.”
He stops moving and smiles. “Let me help you out with that.”
He pulls out of me and slides his hand between my legs. He barely touches me and I dig my nails into his shoulders as I explode. But he doesn’t give me any time to recover as he plunges right back into me. He kisses me hard as he moves in and out of me, until we both orgasm together.
He lies on top of me, tasting my neck and shoulder, as we both attempt to catch our breath.
“God damn,” he says as he pushes up onto his elbows and looks me in the eye. “I miss the way I fit inside you. You’re my missing piece, babe.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Adam
THE LOBBY IN THE LAB is a lot darker than I expected. The wallpaper is a dark forest green with pink rosettes and the industrial carpet is a dark blue that matches the color of the chairs. The squat woman at the front desk is on a phone call when I approach, but she raises her dark eyebrows when she sees me as if I should make my intentions known.
“Picking up some test results,” I whisper.
She nods and mouths, “Last name.”
“Parker.”
I don’t know if Lindsay and Nathan had the sense to put the test under my last name, and I almost wish they hadn’t. If this baby isn’t mine, I don’t want anything left tying me to Lindsay, not even a paper trail to a negative DNA test.
She pulls a folder out of a rack on her desk. “Adam?” she whispers.
I nod and she opens the folder. There’s an envelope clipped to the inside of the folder.
“I.D.?” she whispers.
I show her my North Carolina driver’s license and she looks over the details, probably checking that the name and birthdate match. She hands me the envelope and I’m surprised to see that it’s still sealed. I guess they take this privacy thing seriously.
“Thanks,” I whisper as I tap the desk and set off to open the envelope inside my rental car.
The car has that new car smell that I can’t stand, like plastic and carpet. I miss my truck that always smells a little like ocean and coconut sunblock—and Claire when she used to ride with me.
I slide my finger under the flap of the envelope and quickly pull out the paper folded neatly within. I don’t waste any time unfolding it and searching for the words I want to see. The words materialize in front of me as if they were spelled out in the heavens with stars. I am not the father of Lindsay’s baby.
I kiss the paper and I’m tempted to run back inside the lab and hug the receptionist for giving me the best birthday present ever.
I have never cried from sheer joy, but I’m almost happy enough to cry right now. I can’t even imagine what Claire must have gone through being pregnant all alone. I don’t think I ever realized just how fucking strong she is until now.