Read Legal Action - Box Set Online
Authors: Kimball Lee
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Anthologies, #Contemporary, #Collections & Anthologies
“Charlotte, let me say this quickly and please try to understand where I’m coming from. Of course I’m not over… what happened between us and my mind is running wild right now. But think back, we were together until you became ill, then you were unconscious and in the hospital and suddenly you left with… your friend. Less than two weeks had passed, so there is the possibility, if you think about it.”
“Bly, I know my own body and there’s no way what you’re saying makes sense. Anyway, I was on birth control when you and I… were together, if you recall and I,” she lowered her voice and glanced around to see if anyone could hear them, “I had my period after I left California.”
“You didn’t refill your pills after what happened in Hong Kong and that’s mostly my fault. You were readjusting and it didn’t occur to you, I suppose, and I didn’t remind you… on purpose. I wanted you to marry me, you said you loved me and we’d talked about wanting babies, if you’ll recall. When you were sick the doctor asked if you might be pregnant, but I think it was overlooked when they knew you’d been drugged in China and then they pinpointed the virus. Did you really have a period Charlotte, or just some spotting?”
“I’m ready to go to my hotel, Bly, and don’t bother getting up, I’ll catch a cab,” she stood and slipped into her coat, “I’m almost twenty eight years old, I know my body and I damn well know when I got pregnant.”
He wanted to argue with her and he wanted to insist she let his driver take her to the hotel, but there was no use arguing with Charlotte. He stood on the side walk in the freezing night and saw her face clearly, even after the cab carried her away from him.
*
Charlotte was torn between what she
wanted
to do and what she
should
do. She wanted to see all the magnificent sights of Paris immediately, but she felt she should wait to share the experience with Finn. He called when she was in her hotel room soaking in the best bathtub in the world. She told him she was up to her chin in lavender scented bubbles and he groaned and said he’d be right there to join her. They both laughed and he said he and JP were having a blast, they’d gone to Switzerland for the day to heli-ski and he was still high from the adrenaline rush.
“I don’t think I want to know what heli-skiing is,” Charlotte said, “it sounds dangerous which of course you love, but try to be careful, you
are
going to be a father soon.”
“It’s not that dangerous, my love, don’t worry, I’m very good at jumping out of helicopters, and it’s only banned in France because of bullshit bureaucracy. I’m well aware you need your husband and my son needs a father, so I’m being extremely careful, so much so that JP says I’ve turned into a disgustingly boring fraidy-old-lady,” he said.
“It’s banned? Oh Finn, are you kidding or trying to scare me? You’re son,
hmm
, when did you decide it’s a boy?” she smiled, happy to hear his voice and missing him more than she thought was possible.
“It’s banned because some group of idiots think the noise from the helicopter disturbs the environment. And I think it’s a boy because JP and I were talking about how I’ll never get another nights rest if we have a little girl as beautiful as her mother, so now I definitely want a boy!”
“Well, I guess we’ll know next week, I’m having the sonogram, remember? But do we really want to know? I was thinking we’d let it be a surprise, you know, do it the old fashioned way,” she said, rising from the sea of bubbles and working her arms into a thick robe while she held the phone between her chin and shoulder.
“No, you’re right we’ll do it the old fashioned way, after all that’s how we made this baby, the old fashioned way.” He laughed and it was deep and sexy and set her hormones raging.
“I need you, now,” she said, her voice urgent, “when will you be here?”
“Two more days, my love, I’m aching for you, maybe we can talk our way through this. Why don’t you climb in bed and move your hand between your fabulous, long legs, I can tell you’re wet already from the sound of your voice. I just stepped out of the shower, do you remember the first time you saw me in the shower, when we were roommates?”
“Yes, it was so erotic, you were…” she’d dropped the robe and slipped between the heavenly sheets.
“What was I doing, Charlotte? Are you touching yourself, your soaking wet aren’t you? Tell me,” he said.
“I am, I’m so wet thinking of you, how you looked so incredible, your body was so hot and muscled and hard with the water rushing over you and your hand on your…” she began to moan, she wasn’t going to last.
“Are your fingers where mine should be, my love? Touching your silky, sweet pussy, remembering my mouth there, needing my cock to open you and fill you?”
She came then, so fast it took her by surprise and the sound of her ecstatic cries sent him over the edge as he held is pulsing cock and watched the milky cum erupt.
*
The excitement of being in Paris got the better of Charlotte, so she dressed in a new outfit and rushed out of her room the next morning. The lobby of the hotel was filled with beautiful people speaking French and English and languages she’d never heard before. As she passed the front desk a clerk called to her in English spoken with a captivating French accent.
“Madame, these just arrived for you.” he said, handing her a glossy white box tied with lavender ribbon.
She could smell roses as it lay before her so she opened it as she stood at the desk and read the little card, ‘I still love you, A.B.’ She pushed the elegant box of white roses toward the hotel clerk and said, “Give these to your wife, if you’re married, or throw them away.” Then she tore the card in half and tossed it in the trash as she walked out the door.
Most everyone who visited Paris for the first time began with a tour of the Louvre. Charlotte walked to the Musee d’Orsay while feasting on two warm chocolate croissants from a corner bakery.
Chocolate and Finn
, she thought, two things she just couldn’t get enough of. Her craving for chocolate had appeared out of the blue as soon as she was pregnant, but her craving for Finn was a constant, delicious agony.
She wandered through the rooms of the vast museum; it had been a grand railway station during France’s Belle Époque, which meant ‘beautiful era.’ The light filtering in from the barrel-vaulted glass ceiling cast an ethereal glow on the high, smooth stone walls. Charlotte loved the paintings and sculptures of the Impressionists and Post Impressionists and the d’Orsay housed the largest collection in the world.
She stood in front of a large painting by Gauguin; she’d studied art in college and his work was her favorite by far, now the knowledge of the artist’s history resonated within her. He’d left his solid life as a stockbroker in Paris to live and paint in a hut in Tahiti, hadn’t she done the same thing in a sense, left the status quo for a more desirable life? She was sure Gauguin found happiness in Tahiti, and so had his young native bride from the look of her in the painting. She had the look of a deeply satisfied lioness, so primal, and with that thought she remembered her first night with Bly.
She was admiring a Gauguin painting at the Mayor’s Gala in San Diego and he stood behind her and said it was animalistic. Then he put his hands on her not caring who saw them, later he showed up at her loft and it had been like a runaway train from that day until the end.
She rummaged through her bag for her cell phone, ducked into a restroom and dialed his number.
“Charlotte,” he answered, and didn’t sound surprised she was calling.
“Bly, I’m not thanking you for the flowers, I told the desk clerk to dispose of them. It’s all over between us, I’m in love with Finn, he’s my husband and we’re having a baby. Whatever lunatic fantasies you have about me and my child aren’t going to come true for you, so please stay away from me. Finn will be here tomorrow and…”
“I’m already on my way to San Diego,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Oh,” she said, and felt immense relief. “Are you in the air now?”
“Yes, I am.”
“I thought you couldn’t use a cell phone on a plane,” she said, she was thrown off balance by his calm tone, she’d expected something unpleasant.
“It’s my jet, he said, “and I do as I please.”
She ended the call then, without saying another word, and she felt better just knowing he was half a world away.
*
Finn traveled by train to Paris on New Year’s Eve and Charlotte met him at the Gare du Nord station. He picked her up and twirled her around in the middle of the bustling multitudes, then they stood, wrapped in each other’s arms as if they’d spent years, rather than days, apart.
“I told you not to come out in this insane snowstorm, my love,” he said, as they ducked into a cab.
Once inside the cab they kissed and peered into each other’s eyes, then he moved a hand under her warm coat and dress and let it rest on their unborn child.
“He’s growing fast now,” he said with wonder, he covered her mouth again, and his tongue was soft but insistent and she moaned against him.
*
“Bonne annee et bonne santé!”
They were greeted with a New Year’s wish and a smile, then seated at a table by an immense window wall at Le Ciel de Paris. The restaurant towered fifty six floors above the world and it seemed like heaven to Charlotte and Finn. It was almost midnight and snow blanketed the city, but still the lights of Paris sparkled beneath them like the stars strewn about the universe.
“How did you manage this on New Year’s Eve?” Charlotte asked, “I read about this restaurant in the guidebook, reservations are impossible to get, oh, it’s so amazing up here!”
“Well, your husband can still pull a few strings here and there, and I am not without certain charms,” he teased.
“Yes, well, let’s not talk about certain charms right now or we won’t make it too… how do you say it in French?”
“
Bonne annee
, or the longer version of course, which means ‘
to a good year and good health
,’” he said, leaning across the elegantly set table and taking her hands. He stared down at their hands clasped together, then looked up at her and his eyes were moist.
“What is it?” she asked desperately.
He shook his head and lifted her left hand, then ran his finger across the sapphire ring and wedding band, “do you really like it, are you glad you married me?”
“Do I need to answer that, Finn? Can’t you see?” she asked, and when he was silent, she leaned forward so that her swollen breasts threatened to spill out of her very low neckline, and whispered a line from a love poem, “I have no saying bright enough to tell about our love...”
He wanted to somehow capture the look on her face; she was as hopelessly in love as he was. He was a pushover for storing up memories, in the past they were often all he had to hold on to when his life hung in the balance. Memories of her, mostly, carried him through. Now they were together and she glowed with a radiant light, the light of their love and the life growing inside her.
Finally, he shook off his moment of nostalgia and said, “My beautiful poet, I’m having a difficult time concentrating while I look at your soft, pink mouth and white breasts straining to escape your very sexy dress.”
“I bought it especially for tonight, do you approve?” she asked and as she sat up one of the tiny straps slipped off her shoulder. “Everything’s too tight it seems,” she said, and swept her fingers across her breasts to make her point.
“Have you seen enough of the city from up here? I think room service sounds better,” Finn said and his face was flushed. He didn’t wait for an answer as he took her hand and led her to the elevator, and the cab, and the hotel room, at last.
New Year’s in Paris was beyond wonderful for Finn and Charlotte; they toasted the New Year a little later that night than they planned. Instead of shouts of happy New Year there were shouts of release as they climaxed together. It started in the elevator as they left the restaurant, he brushed his thumbs against her aching nipples, and she winced.
“You’re sore, my love, does it hurt?” he asked, brushing again harder as he watched the look of pain mixed with pleasure on her face. “Does it hurt
good
or do you want me to stop?” He kissed her trembling mouth and slipped his thumbs inside the straining fabric and circled her nipples as she struggled to speak.
“Don’t stop,” she said and rested her face against his chest and stroked his cock through his slacks, it was so hot and full she could feel it pulse in her hand.
He stepped away from her as the elevator doors opened, then he wrapped her coat around her and held her against him. He smoothed her hair and calmed the raging need he’d roused in her. In the taxi he pulled her back against his broad, muscled chest facing away from him. He whispered in her ear and his breath was hot, telling her to stroke him slowly.
Her hand went to his cock, engorged and stretching along his thigh, when her finger reached the outline of the massive head, it was wet and she moaned.
“Quiet my love,” he whispered, and one hand tangled in her hair so that he pulled her head back and tasted the beads of sweat that formed on her neck in spite of the cold. His free hand gently stroked her through her panties and they grew wetter as she squirmed toward his fingers. He moved her away from him abruptly, and kissed her lightly; leaving a fire raging in her as the taxi stopped and he guided her into the hotel.