murmured and smiled at him. âDid you come to tuck me in?â
âYes.â He cupped her face and looked deeply into her eyes. âI love you, Julianna. I always have. Since the first time I met you. Did you know that?â
Even now, after all these years of playacting, she experienced a moment of alarm. A tiny explosion of panic in the pit of her stomach.
He bent closer and pressed his lips to her temple. âI brought you something.â
âYou did?â
âMmm-hmm.â
Feigning childish excitement, she scooted up in the bed. âWhat is it?â
He laid his hands on her shoulders. âWere you a good girl while I was gone?â
She nodded, the past and the present blending, creating a weird sensation of fear and excitement, discomfort and pleasure deep in her gut.
âAre you my good little girl now?â
She nodded again, beginning to tremble.
âI canât stay away, Julianna.â He stroked her hair. âIâve tried but I canât, not anymore. Youâre mine. You always have been. Always will be. Do you understand?â
âWhatâ¦do you mean?â
âYouâll understand. Soon.â A smile played at the corners of his mouth. âYou will, I promise.â
He carefully drew the covers away, murmuring his satisfaction. âPretty,â he whispered, rubbing the fuzzy fabric between his fingers. âSo pretty and sweet.â
âJohn?â she said, working to sound young and frightened.
âItâs all right, love. Show John how much you love him.â He applied gentle pressure, forcing her back to the mattress. âShow him what a good girl you can be.â
So, she did. She lay absolutely still, the way he liked it, as he ran his hands over her, gently at first, then with more urgency.
He didnât undress himself; he wouldnât penetrate her, she knew. He rarely did. Instead, he concentrated on gentling and pleasuring her, first with his hands, then his mouth.
Only when she had climaxed, arching up, crying out as with stunned uncertainty, then falling back to the bed and whimpering meekly like a kitten, did he press himself against her. He was sweating and short of breath, as if he had just finished a ten-mile run. He quivered with the force of his own unfulfilled needs, with excitement.
âMy sweet, sweet Julianna. What would I do without you?â
She turned her face to his and kissed him, thinking of their baby, allowing herself a momentâs fantasy about how John would take her news. âI love you, John.â She smiled and kissed him again. âI love you.â
âShow me how much, love.â He caught her hand and brought it to his erection. âShow me.â
Julianna did. She rubbed and stroked and massaged him, curling her hand around his penis, pumping him to orgasm.
Â
Julianna jumped as a burst of raucous laughter came from the apartment next door. She blinked, momentarily disoriented, then realized she had to go to the bathroom. Had to go so badly she wondered if she was going to be able to make it.
She dragged herself out of bed and padded to the john, the wooden floor cold and gritty beneath her bare feet. The mirror above the vanity was cloudy with age, a crack ran diagonally through its center, warping her reflection by causing the two sides of her face to not quite fit together.
She stared at her misshapen image, breath catching, hardly recognizing herself. She turned to the side, bringing her hands to her swollen belly. Pathetic, she thought, recalling what the other waitresses had said earlier that day. Rejected. Without options.
âYouâre not going to make it. You or your little bastard.â
It hurt to look at herself, and Julianna turned away from her reflection. Why was she doing this? Why was she here, alone and pregnant? She didnât want to be a mother, did she? She didnât want to be one of those hollow-eyed women who came into