CHAPTER TEN
Mandy
Two weeks later …
Even though we’ve been loving like mad, it’d be wrong to say that it’s only about the physical because there’s the emotional too. There’s something between Pete and I, edging in, overcoming both our senses, bonding us close. It happened slowly but surely, sometimes like a warm sensation seeping into our relationship, but sometimes also like a cannon shooting forward, launching us into the future.
Because I’m now spending every day at Mr. Parker’s mansion, babysitting Violet while also playing with her dad, my body alert, on fire, each time he looks at me, each time he touches me. My parents know nothing of course, they think I’m a saint for helping a single dad get through a tough time, filling in while he searched for a nanny.
And while I love being with Mr. Parker, this particular night I was exhausted and tired from singing the same songs over and over, rocking the baby in my arms until they were like lead. But I loved Violet too much to say no, absolutely adored the little girl, and it seemed my maternal instincts turned Pete on, his blue eyes alert, trailing my form as I sat myself onto a stool in the kitchen.
“Everything okay?” he rumbled low in his chest.
I nodded.
“You’re so lucky to have a baby like Violet,” I smiled while sipping at the tea he pushed towards me. Ooh, it was extra hot, just the way I like it. “She’s amazing, just so special.”
Pete’s eyes flared then, but he didn’t say anything for a moment before clearing his throat slightly.
“You ever think about having your own?” he asked nonchalantly, expression curiously guarded.
And I sighed deeply. Because Mr. Parker was touching on one of my sore spots, an area that I was sure about but at the same time, also confused. Because yes, I desperately wanted children but I was too young right? Eighteen is too young to be a mom, right?
So I smiled at him, determined not to say anything, but his blue eyes were so warm, so inviting, that I let it all out, right there at his kitchen table. I don’t know what was wrong with me, maybe it was the amazing sex we’ve been having, maybe it’s because he’s my first, or maybe it’s just that it’s him. But I felt safe, I felt fine with letting out one of my deepest secrets.
“Yes,” I said slowly, firmly, “I absolutely want kids, and I’m hoping … the sooner the better,” I rushed.
He quirked an eyebrow at me.
“Well, what’s stopping you then?” he rumbled, voice low. I could tell he was trying to seem casual, but his body was too still, as if waiting on my every word.
“Well, you know,” I sighed. “I’m too young.”
He paused again.
“In what sense?” he said smoothly, face expressionless.
And I just sighed, hunching over my mug of tea.
“Well you know, I’m supposed to go to college, be this good student, and then there’s grad school after that, and then my career …” I said, voice trailing off. “It’s going to take years,” I said ruefully. “I’m barely at rung one of this giant ladder that goes into the sky, it’s going to take forever to climb.”
Mr. Parker was silent again.
“Well you have time,” he said slowly, thoughtfully. “You’re only eighteen baby, you’ve got plenty of years ahead of you. If you want kids, you’ll make it happen, I know you will.”
I nodded.
“I know I’ll have kids,” I agreed, nodding my head, biting my lip. “But the things is, according to my career trajectory it’s not supposed to happen until I’m in my thirties, or late twenties at the earliest,” I said, lips pulling into a twist. “I mean, with all that I have to get done, all the school, the studying, the exams, the internships, twenty-nine is probably the earliest I could get pregnant, and Pete, that’s eleven years from now.”
The big man was silent, looking at me carefully.
“Well, we’re not exactly playing it safe baby,” he said pointedly, “We haven’t been using anything, you said you wanted it that way.”
And I flushed. I’d felt his dick in me bare so many times now that I couldn’t possibly imagine it any other way. So I nodded.
“I know, Mr. Parker, I know, I think it’s part of my rebellion,” I whispered, clutching my cup tight to my chest. “I feel like the world wants me to be one way, but I want to be another.”
He cocked his head at me, blue eyes gleaming.
“And what do you want then?” he asked, casual, smooth. “What’s your heart telling you?”
I sighed again.
“My heart and my body are telling me to stop, to get off this career train,” I said slowly, feeling each word come out of my mouth. It was like a betrayal, everything my parents taught me flushed down the drain. But at the same time, it was a relief to finally get it out there. I’d been groomed since I was five to be a high-powered professional woman and to hear that I didn’t want it, that it wasn’t me, was curiously empowering. So I looked at him.
“You have to understand,” I started slowly. “My mom and dad are working class folk, neither of them went to college, so for me to be at Evergreen makes them so proud,” I managed. “Getting my four-year is a huge thing for them.”
And he nodded understandingly, thoughtful. So I continued.
“And my parents only want what’s best for me,” I started again. “They’re so proud of me, and this whole lawyer thing, I don’t know, I guess I saw an episode of Law and Order when I was twelve and it just spiraled from there,” I finished helplessly.
“You saw an episode of Law and Order, and that’s what set you on this path?” he rumbled, eyebrow cocked.
And I nodded.
“Yeah, and my parents always encouraged it, so it snowballed into this big huge thing. Because for them, having a lawyer in the family would be the ultimate validation, the ultimate sign that they succeeded in raising me. So now I feel like I have to get a JD and become this big fancy professional, putting on work clothes every day, schlepping off to a corporate office.”
He interrupted me.
“And that’s what you want?” Mr. Parker asked, his voice still neutral.
And I shook my head, frustrated then.
“It’s not,” I admitted. “I mean, it’s what I thought I wanted, for years I thought being a professional was my thing, but lately … I dunno, I’m just not sure anymore.”
He paused then, the silence heavy with unspoken words.
“You’re young honey, you can always change course. No need to be a lawyer, you could be an accountant. Have you thought about that?”
And I snorted then. “Are you crazy, Mr. Parker? Seriously,” I stuck my tongue out at him, “numbers make me dizzy. Honestly my eyes cross when I see a spreadsheet, it blurs before my eyes. But it’s more than that,” I confided, suddenly serious again. “It’s getting off this professional career track altogether. I don’t want it, I mean I love Evergreen but I don’t need a degree from the school, I’m fine with … you know, just being me,” I bit my lip.
Pete leaned forward then, brushing his lips against mine, making me sigh, the alpha male so near and yet so far. But he wasn’t done yet.
“I hear you, I totally get it,” he growled. “But what did you have in mind if you don’t want to finish college?”
And hearing him say it made it all that much more real, my heart pumping fast in my chest, the blood pounding with a new reality.
“I want … I want to be a mom,” I admitted. “Like I said, waiting until my late twenties or early thirties seems like forever, and I want to do it now,” I almost whispered. “I want a baby, or even two or three, I want to feel my body swell with new life, breastfeed a newborn, even burp and clean their spit-up. That’s how much I want it,” I admitted.
The big man looked at me sharply, blue eyes gleaming.
“Well, honey, we can definitely do that, we’re on our way even now,” he said with a wry smile. “But why can’t you admit it to the world?”
I bit my lip again.
“Because it’s not what I’m supposed to want,” I tried again. “Haven’t you heard what I’ve been saying? I’ve been raised to want to be a lawyer, to want higher education, to want all these things, and I dunno, it’s hard you know? It’s hard to buck a lifetime of expectations, throw it all into the trash.”
And that was when the alpha male threw his head back and roared with laughter, his eyes even tearing a bit, my words were so funny.
“What?” I asked, pouting, mouth in a frown. “What is it? I’ve just revealed my inner conflict to you, it’s not that funny you know,” I grumped. “I’m sorry it’s so hysterical to you.”
And he just wiped his eyes slightly, the rumbles subsiding into mere chuckles.
“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it,” he apologized. “I guess it’s just that I haven’t cared what anyone thought in so long that hearing it from you is refreshing. I guess that’s the difference between a teen girl and a mature man,” he said wryly. “When you get to my age, you stop caring what other people think so much.”
I paused for a moment.
“Well, I’m not exactly you, but back when you were young, you were different right?” I asked. “I mean, back then you were influenced by all sorts of people, your parents, teachers, guidance counselors…” my voice trailed off.
And now it was his turn to guffaw.
“Guidance counselors? Fuck no,” he growled. “Honey I’ve been out on my own since I was sixteen, supporting myself. You think I had time for fucking guidance counselors? Fuck no, more like I was hustling for a dime, making deals, raising Hell,” he growled again. “For me, it’s always been my way, when I say and when I want, all the time.”
And I sighed again. This was a male speaking, an adult male who was rich, powerful, and influential, and I was none of those things, with none of the confidence.
“But it’s different for me,” I tried again. “I’m a girl.”
He clasped my hand then, square fingers warm around mine, swallowing my small palm in his big grasp.
“No it’s not,” he said roughly, staring into my eyes, that blue gaze meeting mine. “Mandy, you know what you want and I just heard you say it articulately, with warmth and conviction. Yeah, maybe having kids at eighteen isn’t what you were raised to want, but it doesn’t mean you’re wrong. Hell, I wish I had kids younger,” he snorted.
I sat back then, dumbfounded.
“You do?” I asked. “But you’re not old.”
He grinned at me then.
“Love to hear you say that honey,” he said smoothly, “but I’m forty and Violet’s only five. You know how old I’m gonna be when she’s twenty-five? Sixty, baby, I’m gonna be a fucking retiree when my daughter’s a young adult, I’m gonna be living in a fucking retirement home.”
I giggled then. Retirees ate mushy pasta and applesauce, tottering on their walkers with their underwear sticking out of their pants, right? I couldn’t imagine Pete as that, not even close.
“You’ll be fine,” I giggled again. “You’re a long ways from the senior center.”
He sighed then.
“You’re right honey, but I still wish I’d had kids earlier, forty is not young,” he ground out. “But, you can always make up for your mistakes and that’s what we’re doing now,” he said with a hungry look at me, eating me up.
“I know,” I whispered. “Because it feels right to you, doesn’t it? Going bareback? You know, rolling the dice and all?”
He gathered me up in his arms.
“Honey it feels more than right,” he rumbled against my lips, giving me a deep kiss. “It feels fucking perfect and you know that we’re not rolling the dice at all,” he pressed his forehead against mine, seizing my gaze with his own. “It’s gonna happen for sure, you’re gonna get pregnant, it’s just a question of when. You’re a fertile teen girl, honey, I’m an alpha male who’s already proven my virility, I already have a child. It’s gonna happen.”
And the thought of a baby with Pete made my head whirl and my body grow heated.
“Do you promise?” I whispered again. “Do you promise me a baby?”
And he growled deep in his throat.
“Absolutely,” he rumbled, claiming my lips in another deep kiss. “I absolutely promise. And while we’re at it … why don’t we try again?”
I only kissed him deeper, pressing my breasts against his broad chest with need, with want, my pussy already gushing, begging to feel his dick deep inside, begging him to release the promise of life into my warm, wet cavern. Because no, I didn’t know how things were gonna turn out, I wasn’t sure exactly what was ahead for me and Mr. Parker. But during today’s conversation, something had broken free. I’d spoken the words I’d been too afraid to say before, too scared to admit to anyone other than myself.
And once spoken, it’d sounded right. I didn’t want my current life. I didn’t want to put on boring clothes every day and schlep off to work, a corporate drone dragging my feet, hating my job. And you know what? It was okay. Mr. Parker, hearing my admission, didn’t judge me for it, didn’t think I was a loser or ungrateful little girl who took things for granted. What he did was validate me, assure me that what I wanted was most important and not to be brushed off. This was my life after all, and I was the one who had to live it each and every day. So it was okay to forget about college, to crave motherhood, and hell, it wasn’t like we were breaking any laws. I was eighteen, in command of my body and soul, and if I knew anything it was this … I wanted to be with this man, I wanted to explore the future with him, and it was okay. In Mr. Parker’s arms, I felt safe, I felt cared for, and most of all, I felt loved.