Vik by Belle Aurora

38

Nastasia

The last coupleof weeks had been blissfully drama-free, and although Vik and I continued to squabble like cats and dogs—over what to eat for dinner, over what to watch on TV, over the fact that he’d beg me to put a movie on, then fall asleep ten minutes in, that he didn’t rinse his dishes when he put them in the washer—we always ended our disagreements with a roll of the eyes and a gentle kiss to the lips, feeling like we had both won.

And the sex…

Sheesh.

The sex was good.

We were back at it like a couple of horny teenagers. No one mentions how amorous pregnant women get. It was like sex on speed. One minute, we were making out, and the next, I was on fire, panting, “Pants off, or so help me God.”

When he took too long and I slapped his hands away from his belt, I cried out in delight when I finally freed his long, thick erection, then wasted no time in lowering myself onto him with a long, drawn-out moan. Vik looked an equal mixture of concerned and delighted, but the frantic, clothes-pulling, desperate brand of sex wasn’t something he was about to complain about.

There are other things they don’t tell you about pregnancy. Being overwhelmed, for one thing. The hormones coursing through my body had me crying at the most inconvenient times, at the most ridiculous things.

For example, when Anika brought over a blueberry muffin because she remembered I liked them. Then there was the time I couldn’t stop hiccupping, and Vik laughed at me. And when Lev placed his hand on my stomach and told me he prayed my child was exactly like me because no one protected him like I had. Or when Alessio asked me what type of flowers Cora liked, because it was so sweet.

Through my sniffles, I told him Cora didn’t like flowers.

She liked dick.

Now, as my belly grew a little more pronounced and the contentment of my relationship washed over me, it was predictable, but doubt set in. Luckily, Vik and I were learning from our past mistakes, and when I brought it up to him later that night, we talked it over.

“What if I’m not a good mother?” I sat up with my legs crossed, hugging myself. “What if I’m just like her?”

Vik, dressed only in his pajama pants, frowned at me, clearly not understanding where this was coming from. “You are nothing like her. You’re going to be a great mom.”

“How do you know?” I asked anxiously. “I couldn’t even babysit a five-year-old without him going missing. How am I going to do this, Vik?”

“Easy,” he uttered sincerely. “Just like everyone else, you’ll learn as you go. When Lev first held Lidi, do you remember how anxious we all were when she started to cry?” I do. Lev was very sensitive to sound. “But he knew what he had to do, no matter how much it cost him his comfort.”

Damn it. Of course he was right.

“Oh my God.” My breathing grew heavy as my eyes widened when the thought dawned on me. “I need to push this bean out of my body.”

But Vik remained cool, lying on his side with his head resting on his upturned hand. “Not necessarily. You could get an elective caesarean if you wanted to.”

Sure, I could. We had the money. But I didn’t want that, not unless it was absolutely necessary.

“Shit.” My hands came up to cover my warm cheeks. “We only have five months to organize the nursery.”

Vik laid a comforting hand on my knee. “Tomorrow, we’ll put pen to paper. Get it started.”

He seemed to have an answer for everything.

Why did that piss me off?

“You don’t understand,” I told him, shaking my head lightly.

“I do,” he uttered, his eyes roaming my apprehensive face.

“You don’t,” I said a little too harshly.

But this man, with his sky-blue eyes and easy demeanor, just smiled at me.

“I do,” he vowed with a squeeze to my knee. “You’re freaking out. You don’t like how you’re feeling, and you want to lash out at someone, namely me. But I’m not biting back, and it’s pissing you off.”

Hmmm.

Okay. Maybe he did know how I felt.

“Well, I put in all this effort.” I pouted. “You could at least pretend to argue with me.”

Vik stared at me as if I was a lunatic before he choked on a laugh. “You know what? You’re right.” He sat up and shuffled closer to me, sitting with his strong thighs on either side of me, pulling me into the vee of his spread legs and clapping his hands. “Let’s do it.”

My heart turned gooey.

I rolled my eyes but made no attempt to hide my smile. “It’s not the same.”

“No,” he spoke sincerely, “I’m serious.” When I glared at him, he mock-glared right back. “You want to argue? Let’s argue, baby.”

I don’t know what he was playing at, but when I tilted my chin up to look at him defiantly and saw him ready and willing to argue with me for the sake of sating my anxiety, I found I just didn’t want to. Not anymore. I didn’t need anything more than what I had right in front of me.

As reluctant as we’d both been, growing up was easier than we thought.

Turned out, it was all about growing up with the right person by your side.

And as Vik took my hips in his large hands and squeezed, I reached out to cup his cheeks, and when he ran his stubble along my palms, my expression turned dreamy. I’d never been more sincere than when I asked, “What would I do without you?”

He turned his face and pressed a long kiss to my palm before returning roughly, “Lucky for you, you’ll never have to find out.”

My heart skipped a beat, and when he smiled, it called to my own. I dipped my chin to hide the smile that would not be caged. It hit me so suddenly that the emotions swirling through me reached heights I’d never climbed. And when I burst into tears, Vik frowned, looking mildly alarmed.

I brushed my tears away, shrugged floppily, and whined out, “I’m just really happy.”

Vik chuckled silently. “Okay then.” His hands slid around my back, and he pulled me into his body, first kissing my mouth, then my cheek, before trailing his lips down my throat. “Now, I hope you’re ready, because I am gonna fill you out like an application.”

“Uh…”

What did he just say?

“Gonna do some—” He nipped my jaw. “—interior decorating.”

Oh my God. “Please stop.”

Vik kissed my lips slowly, speaking against them seductively, “Gonna slam the clam.”

Jesus Christ.

I could barely stop myself from laughing. “Ew. No.”

But he wasn’t swayed.

Another peck of a kiss. “Gonna dip the… crane… into the… old oil well.”

The snort that left me had his lips twitching.

“Gonna use my telescope—” Why did he have to pop the P the way he did? “—to explore your black hole.”

I put my hands flat on his chest and pushed, hollering as my lips twitched, “Vik, stop.”

But he tightened his hold on me, putting his lips to the shell of my ear and rumbling, “You get what I’m saying, baby?”

The very moment I cracked and laughed out, “We’re gonna have s—” he was already talking again.

“We’re gonna have sex,” he drew the last word out, and when I put my head to his shoulder, laughing out loud, I felt his own body shake with mirth. “What? Admit it. It was working for ya.”

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath. I quietly hoped we were still goofing around and laughing like this in fifty years. And when he placed his fingers under my chin and brought my face up to his, his smiling mouth kissed my own.

As per usual, it didn’t take him long to make me forget my doubts.

In fact, when we were done and he held me against his chest, slowly caressing my bare spine, I found I had no reservations.

None at all.

* * *

We fellinto a routine rather quickly. We spent most of our mornings lazily making love before I would get up to shower, giving Vik a few more minutes to snooze. At the tail end of my shower, Vik would slip inside and take over where I left off. I would change, then head downstairs and retrieve the newspaper from my front porch. By the time Vik came down all fresh and clean and smelling so damn edible while looking like a treat, we worked around each other in a flawless dance we had both learned by heart.

He grabbed two mugs off the shelf. I waited for the toast to pop.

He poured the coffee. I handed him the milk as I got the butter.

He added two sugars and cream to my coffee while leaving his own black.

I put a healthy smear of butter on my twice-baked bread while slathering his in jelly.

We converged at the table without a word and exchanged our gatherings. It was only after we’d both eaten that conversation seemed to begin. It was almost too easy.

After Sasha approved my change in position, Lev spent a good chunk of his time walking me through what I needed to do to see the books balanced. Lucky for him, I was a quick study. When Lev was confident I had all the information I needed, he stopped observing me work and left me to it. Before long, I had that shit handled. I mean, sure, I still called him on the odd occasion with a quick question, but in the past week, I hadn’t needed to. So… winning.

Sasha seemed happy with my work. I knew this, because he didn’t have much to say about it.

Sasha was like that.

No news was good news.

And when Vik began his online classes, I couldn’t help but move my workspace close to his, quietly watching the lectures with great interest. Closer and closer I moved, until one morning, I didn’t even hesitate. I set my laptop right down next to his, and when the too-hot-to-handle man narrowed his eyes at me, I smiled cheerily, uttering, “Hello, fellow student. Are you here for the unspecific class with the token boring professor?” I nodded lightly, lips thin. “Me too.”

His lip twitched, but his brow drew into a V. “What are you doing?”

“Oh.” I feigned boredom. “Didn’t I tell you? I go here.”

That frown deepened. “Go where?”

I motioned to our laptops. “To school. And you—” I looked him over like a piece of meat, biting my lip suggestively. “—hot stuff, are my classroom chum.”

“Baby.” Whatever he was going to say seemed to fade away as I pressed my arms together. He lost focus on my growing boobs but cleared his throat and reluctantly said, “I need to do this.” He squeezed my knee, letting me down gently. “We can play schoolyard sexy-time when I’m off the clock.”

I made of show of sighing. “Okay. Sorry.” Then I moped, “Is it okay if I do my work here? I promise I won’t bother you.”

Without looking at me, he logged on with one hand while blindly reaching out to me with the other. Once he found what he was after, he picked up my hand and brought it to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “Of course.”

Vik was so invested in the lecture he was watching that he missed what I was doing. I logged in quickly enough, and when I started the next module, the very same lecture showed up on my laptop screen, with the very same professor. Vik slowly turned to focus on my screen, and when he did, those thick brows pulled down once more.

“What…?” He couldn’t even finish what he was saying. The question was left open-ended, and when he faced me, I could see the confusion lining his slack features.

“I told you.” I paused, my brows rising as I let out a matter-of-fact, “I go here.”

His stunned silence didn’t last long. “Since when?”

“Since a week before the semester began,” I returned.

The look on his face was priceless. Lord, he was so cute when he was puzzled.

I decided to put him out of his misery. “Look. You still want to run your own business?”

“Yes” was his immediate response, and he meant it. That kind of conviction could not be faked.

Okay. “Then it makes sense that we prepare, right?”

“Right.” He drew the word out, but it was clear he still wasn’t getting it.

I twisted to face him head-on, to silently ask for his full attention. He gave it easily.

“If you’re in, I’m in.” I shrugged. “We’re both going to need to know this stuff. I thought it was probably best that we start on the same level. I don’t want you to waste time having to teach me things I should already know. When the time comes and you need my help—because you will—then I’ll be right there, ready to go. A soldier at your command.”

Vik’s expression went from confused to thoughtful, and when that thick brow of his softened, he said, “You really think I can do this?”

No hesitation. “Yes,” I told him. “I have faith in you.”

“You do, don’t you?” He asked it gently, but there was an intensity to it, a raw emotion behind those icy-blue eyes.

My fingers came up to cup his cheek, and the stubble on his jaw tickled my palm when he nuzzled into it. My response was just as soft. “Forever and always.”

The way he peered at me then, with wonder and awe, admiration and respect… nothing could compare.

Nothing would ever compare.

“Besides,” I tried to lighten the mood, “do you remember what Mrs. Renshaw said about your senior English paper on Native American legacy?”

He closed his eyes a moment. When he opened them again, he mock-glared at me, cleared his throat, and uttered a reluctant, “She called it vaguely offensive.”

She sure did.

I grinned. “No harm helping each other out, right?”

His brow softened. “No.” He looked grateful, and the gentle tone in which he spoke said so much more than he offered. “No harm at all.”

The love radiated off of him in waves, and when they crashed over me, a lifetime of adoration and friendship soaked me to the bone, leaving me warm and fuzzy.

I settled next to him, leaned forward, and hit the button to start the lecture again from the beginning. And as the professor commenced his talking, I found it hard to focus when the man beside me kept his attention on my face.

Mildly annoyed, I turned to him and said, “Listen here, buddy. This is important. We need to do this.” And just because I could, I rolled my eyes and repeated what he said to me only minutes before. “We can play schoolyard sexy-time when we’re off the clock.” A slow smile stretched his lips, and my stomach flip-flopped at how beautiful it was. I couldn’t deal. Taking my hands, I put them to either side of his face and forcefully turned his head, making him watch the screen. “Focus.”

He did, but he did it grinning. And when his arm came around my shoulders, I settled in beside him, resting my head on his.

Soft words from a hardened man.

“I love you.”

It socked me in the gut each time I heard it out loud.

My eyes burned. The bridge of my nose tingled. And when I put my hand to his chest, right over his heart, and nestled into his side, he turned his head and pressed his lips to my temple in an open display of reverence.

Contentment pulsed through me outwardly, like a beating heart.

It was a strange feeling to live in the knowledge that I had the kind of love I always craved. The easy, comfortable kind where kisses were frequent and there was no shame in adoring the other half of yourself. The kind where laughter was plentiful and arguments ended in intense lovemaking. Where we craved each other on a level that bordered manic.

We weren’t perfect, and that was okay.

Perfect, I found, was synonymous with boring.

My family was small and fractured, but broken things could always be fixed.

Yes, the fissures would always be visible, but when the right person loved you enough to shift your focus, you quickly realized that those cracks formed patterns and arrangements that were really quite pretty if you looked hard enough.

Life was good.

No. It was great.

I didn’t think it could get better than this but would gladly be proved wrong, again and again and again, over the course of our hectic lives.