Authors: Andrea Smith

Tags: #Humorous, #Suspense, #Baby Lite Series #1, #Erotica, #Romantic Erotica, #Public, #Literature & Fiction

Maybe Baby (54 page)

“Wow,” I say, jumping a bit when she clamps on. Her instincts take over and soon I can feel her sucking rhythmically on my breast. Her little tiny fists knead and push into them. “How does she know to do that?” I ask the nurse, awestruck. Preston is making some very loud sucking noises.

“She knows to do it by instinct,” the nurse answers, laughing. “We’ll make sure she’s hydrated when she’s in the nursery.”

Nursery? Hello! I want her in my room.

Trey has been watching me and now he reads my mind.

“Tylar,” he speaks up in his lawyerly tone, “let the nurses look after the baby as they’re trained to do. I’m sure they like to monitor newborns for the first twenty-four hours.”

“Listen to your husband, Mrs. Sinclair,” she advises, nodding her head in agreement with Trey. I blush at her assumption that we're married. Trey has filled out the form for her birth certificate making sure her name was exactly the way he wants it. I grumble a bit, shooting Trey a sharp look for butting in. The nurse departs, promising to come back shortly to see how we're doing.

Gina gets up and stretches. “I’m leaving too,” she says, “I want to call Ian when I get home. The reception’s spotty in here.”

I know Gina feels little uncomfortable witnessing our intimate scene with Trey and I on the bed and Preston sucking loudly at my breast.

“Be back tomorrow?” I ask her.

“First thing in the morning,” Gina promises. “I already sent pictures of my goddaughter to Ian. He wants us to get pregnant soon.” Gina smiles and I can tell that she is on board with that as well. She gives me a hug and even hugs Trey, congratulating him before she leaves to go back to her Aunt Becky’s.

“Do you think the world is ready for Gina and Ian’s spawn?” Trey asks, smiling at me devilishly.

“Trey,” I say, in a louder voice than I intend, “be nice.” My voice has startled Preston and she drops my nipple. Her tiny little face turns red and scrunches up unhappily. She starts fussing and fidgeting, her little mouth rooting against me.

“Now see what you’ve caused with our daughter,” I reprimand him playfully. “Will you help me get her on the other one, Trey?”

“I’d be more than happy to oblige, Mrs. Sinclair,” he teases, his fingers pulling at my other nipple.

“It’s not Sinclair yet,” I remind him, shifting the baby.

Trey is taking quite a bit of pleasure in fondling my nipple. The last couple weeks of my pregnancy have seen Trey pretty much do without sexual gratification. I was constantly having Braxton Hicks contractions, so I wasn’t comfortable at the end. Trey tried to convince me that the best thing for suppressing false labor was semen.

Nice try, counselor.

Feeling her nestle against my breast, her tiny fists kneading into me, is almost pleasurable. She starts with the loud sucking again and I can tell Trey is mesmerized. He is watching her as if he can’t believe that she is finally here.

“Are you disappointed we didn’t have a boy?” I ask.

“I wouldn’t change a thing about her,” he says, taking his fingers and gently stroking the dark tendrils that have escaped her pink knit cap.

When my nurse returns, Preston is sleeping soundly. I don’t want to give her to the nurse just yet. Trey shoots me a look of reproach, so I grudgingly hand my baby over into the nurse’s waiting arms.

“We’ll take good care of her, Mrs. Sinclair. Don’t you worry." She bustles out of my room with our daughter in her arms.

“Why bother with the marriage ceremony, Trey? Apparently everyone already thinks I’m Mrs. Sinclair,” I say, waving my hand dismissively.

He's sitting in the rocker and looks over, quirking an eyebrow. “Don’t be mean,” he admonishes gently. “You aren’t pissed about being called ‘Mrs. Sinclair,’ you’re pissed because she took Preston to the nursery. But I’m here with you, baby.”

I roll my eyes at him, still aggravated that I can’t have my daughter with me all night. I just met her a few hours ago.

“What?” Trey teases, sauntering over and sitting on the bed with me, pulling me close to him. His hand strokes my hair. “So I’m just the lowly sperm donor to be cast aside?” he complains.

I look up into his amused eyes and laugh. “I didn’t mean to be that way, I’m sorry Trey,” I reply. “I just miss having her next to me. We’ve been a mother-daughter team for the past nine months, you know?”

“Trust me,” he replies sweetly, “you’ll have plenty of time to spend bonding with our daughter.” His hand lifts my still damp hair up off of my neck. Trey lowers his head and I feel his soft lips on my neck gently kissing me. “I love you, baby. Thank you for our daughter,” he whispers brushing his lips against my skin.

“It was my pleasure,” I reply, my mind floats back to that night in the stable, recalling the raw passion and frenzied lovemaking that gave us our beautiful baby girl.

“Happy belated birthday, Trey. I love you.”

The clock over the glass windows of the nursery read 11:17 p.m. Nurse Sheila Bradley completed the last diaper change of her shift. She would be clocking out for the night in a little less than ten minutes. Five new babies in the nursery. Four baby boys and one baby girl. They are all down for the count, as least as far as her shift goes. Four tiny little blue cotton caps and one tiny little pink cotton cap. Five precious little angels.

It almost makes Nurse Bradley long for her childbearing days. They seem to have gone by in a flash. It makes a woman feel different psychologically when the reality sinks in that childbearing is gone forever. She supposes that's why God created grandparents. She peers out into the empty corridor on the other side of the glass viewing windows. That was a strange bird that had come in a little more than an hour ago. How did she slip up to the maternity floor unnoticed like that with visiting hours long since over? The woman was petite and attractive; she looked like she wasn’t much past forty. Seemed nice enough but she was one bull-headed lady. Said she was from out of town and just got into Atlanta that very minute.

It was strange that the woman didn’t want to see her daughter. She'd been adamant about not disturbing her since she'd gone through a very complicated labor and delivery. Young girls always think their labor and delivery is complicated when it’s their first birth. Nurse Bradley chuckles to herself. The mother’s chart mentioned no such complications when she looked it up to see which baby she'd delivered.

Nurse Bradley should have followed regulations and called Security when the petite woman insisted she wouldn't leave until she got to see her grandchild. It was her first grandbaby, she said, and she wanted to see it. Hell, there wasn’t any harm done. It took all of two minutes to pick up the little pink swaddled baby girl and bring her over to the window for her grandma to see. Grandma seemed especially tickled to find out she had a granddaughter. She waved her hand to the newborn baby girl, blowing her a kiss. She told her not to worry, “Nana” would be back soon to see her.

Nurse Bradley picks up her purse at the nurse’s station and walks over to the time clock. She runs it through and then returns the card to its slot with the others. She has been clocking in and out at this hospital for twenty-three years now. She presses the button for the elevator, waiting patiently for the doors to open.

She is startled to see the same petite woman who'd visited the nursery earlier now standing in the elevator. She gets on and pushes the button for ground floor. Why is this woman still in the hospital? Nurse Bradley pulls her sweater a bit tighter around her as the hair on the back of her neck stands on end.

Andrea Smith is a USA Today best-selling author. She is a native of Springfield, O
hio, currently residing in southern Ohio. The 'Baby Series' trilogy is Ms. Smith's first self-published work. Having previously been employed as an executive for a global corporation, Ms. Smith decided to leave the corporate world and pursue her life-long dream of writing fiction.