I’d better be getting lucky with you.
Vincent smiled. Upstairs, water ran. It wouldn’t be long now until Nikki was finished in the bathroom and ready to be put to bed.I wouldn’t want you getting lucky with anyone else.
Are you putting Nikki to bed?
Yes.Vincent hesitated.I’m going to go tuck her in and say goodnight. Not too long after that, I should be saying goodnight to you, too. You’re going to want to be rested for your appointment tomorrow.
Doctor’s orders?
Yup. And you know what happens if you don’t listen?
What?
Ten more weeks under lock and key.
“Dad!” Nikki called from the top of the stairs. “I brushed my teeth and everything. Can you come say goodnight, please?”
“Coming,” Vincent said. To Mal, he wrote,Goodnight, Daddy.
God, I hope you can say that and mean it tomorrow.
Vincent closed his eyes, momentarily overcome by the distant joy tomorrow might bring with it. The science was solid—the results so far had surpassed Vincent’s expectations. Vincent had trust in the clomiphene phylacetate solution.
And even if they needed to try one more time to get it right, hewouldget it right.
He’d give Mal his baby. He swore it.
38
Mal
Dr. Biernacki stared at the rigid bulge beneath Mal’s jeans from across the room, eyes wide and lips nothing more than a thin line. With the right pair of jeans, Mal was able to hide the cage while standing. While sitting, he was not afforded the same luxury. With his balls caught by the ring, and the cage of such solid construction, there was no way he could adjust himself to totally hide the protrusion. Taking off the cage was out of the question. It, and the cock inside of it, belonged to Vincent.
If Dr. Biernacki wanted to stare, he could.
“Since the embryo transfer, have you noticed any abnormalities?” Vincent asked from across the room. He’d set Mal’s blood sample in a machine no bigger than a cellphone and was supervising it, his back turned to Mal. Dr. Peterman and Dr. Heaney stood nearby, Dr. Heaney holding the same tablet as ever.
It was a question Vincent already knew the answer to, but one he had to ask as a formality. As far as the other doctors in the room were aware, they shared no connection beyond the walls of the clinic. Vincent would have no way of knowing whether Mal had been suffering or not.
“No,” Mal said. “It’s been a standard week. I suppose, if I had to give you an answer, I’d say that I’m hornier than usual.”
“An expected side effect, certainly.” Vincent’s voice, casual and composed, didn’t match the sudden pull in the air, like someone had snagged the breath in Mal’s lungs with fishing line and had started to reel it out. “Abstinence can be challenging, even more so when the body has been encouraged to produce hormones in abundance. With time, your feelings of arousal will decrease.”
With time, Vincent would take the cage off and work the arousal from Mal himself.
“Have you noticed any physical side effects?” Vincent asked, every bit as casual as before. “Any troublesome feelings, even if they were only momentary?”
“No.” Mal capped his knees with his hands. “Unless you count how long these last two weeks have been.”
“Mm.” There was a smile in Vincent’s voice. “Understandable.”
A cheerful beep interrupted the conversation. It had come from the machine Vincent stood in front of. Results had loaded onto its display screen, but it was angled in such a way that Mal couldn’t see the text. Even if he’d been able to, he figured that the medical jargon would have been prohibitive to his understanding.
“The analysis is complete,” Vincent announced. He turned around and his eyes met Mal’s. The glint in them spoke before his lips did, sending Mal’s heart rocketing into his throat. “You’re pregnant, Mr. Collins. Congratulations.”
Pregnant.
After so many failed attempts. After years of longing, but not having the courage or the stability of mind to see it through on his own. After believing that all hope was lost.
