“Do you think Gran will mind if I spend the night?” he asks looking like his smirky self again.
“I’ll take my hearing aids out,” Gran comes in and takes Marcel’s mug away. “Now let her get some breakfast, she’s eating for two.”
This makes us all laugh and Marcel stays with me at Gran’s all day. We work out the logistics I’d penned in my report so that Marcel can present it to the investors at a meeting in the morning. It’s just a week before Christmas and it feels amazing to work with him on something productive that employs both of our expertise.
In the evening, Marcel has dinner delivered from a fancy restaurant and Gran gushes about how good it is.
“You shouldn’t ever have to cook again,” Marcel says offhandedly, not to insult but to encourage her to live a little larger.
“Pot roast that bad, huh?” she asks cutting off another piece of steak. “This is so good.”
“So is this seared tofu, how do they get it to not taste like tofu?” I laugh.
“Tofu. Nothing good tastes like Tofu. Yuck. Come to the dark side. Gran and I are having fun over here,” he teases.
“Never,” I protest, playfully.
We talk and laugh all night. They drink and get a little tipsy but it’s to be expected; it’s the holidays and both are facing a lot of fears. Marcel’s are evident and plentiful but Gran is facing some too. I’m the only one who hangs out with her. If I fall in love and start my life, who will spend time with her? My cousin, perhaps, but he has his own life and she can’t really tolerate some of his wildness and strong opinions on how she should dress and who she needs to be seeing. Gran and I co-exist well. By the time they’ve sobered up and finished the puzzle together, I’m falling asleep in my chair. Pregnancy really does make you very tired, or maybe it’s because it’s nearly one in the morning.
“Bedtime for Julie-Loo-Who,” Marcel says as he scoops me into his arms and carries me up the stairs to the guest room.
“I’m glad we’re not going to try and fit in my bed again.” I yawn.
“Not a good place to do what I want to do to you,” Marcel playfully threatened.
I’m suddenly more awake. “Woah, am I not sleeping tonight?”
“I’m not wasting a night with you. Yes, you are going to be sleeping—I’m planning on doing all the work. All you have to do is lie back and take it.” He opens the door to the guest room and carries me in.
“Oh, I get to be a lazy lover, nice.” I kick off the slippers that I’ve been wearing all day. “Would you like to join me inthe shower first?” I playfully tease him as I wriggle my exposed shoulder out of the ancient sweater that I love and will never part with, even though its neckline is impossibly stretched out.
“I would love to join you in the shower, but no touching. I get to do all the work. You are going to be pampered.” Marcel looks serious as he takes off his own clothes.
“Um ... why?” I love the enthusiasm, but what is his game?
“You have turned this project into something that will save your town and others like it while making millions for the investors. And the only part of the project that will clear before the end of the year is the demo and relocation phase which pays us nothing. This means my final alimony payment to Clara will include none of it. I’ll give her a monetary Christmas gift, but not as big as her greedy little self wants.”
“Okay, I guess I deserve spa treatment for that.” I smile and start to wiggle out of my clothes.
“Oh, not just that,” he continues, “you are in the process of making a whole baby with that gorgeous body of yours. You deserve several thousand orgasms for that.”
“Several thousand? In one night? Oh my, wear a girl out why don’ cha?” I feel tingly and giddy as I slip my jogging pants down over my ass and let them fall to the floor, then I reach for my underwear.
“Ah, ah.” He stops me. “I get to take these off.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Marcel
I slide her panties down that perfect body, kissing her belly as I do. I am barreling headlong into something terrifying and I don’t care. All I want is Juliet.
As soon as I have her underwear off, I lift Juliet up into my arms and carry her to the small ensuite bathroom. While still holding her, I turn on the hot water as she wiggles and launches her protest.
“You don't have to carry me,” she scolds and I hold on tighter.
“Yes I do, you're tired and I like the way you feel in my arms.” I kiss her to pass the time while we wait for the water to warm up.
When it's the proper temperature I step in and only then do I set Juliet on her feet. She's only standing upright long enough for me to press her against the wall making sure she can feel my hard length between our bodies.
