L is no longer on bed rest but that doesn't mean she can return to doing anything she likes. She needs to take it easy, so I bring her home after our lunch date and encourage her to rest on the couch. She isn't excited about it but eventually concedes. I can see that she's tired, although she refuses to admit it, and I'd bet money she's napping within fifteen minutes once I'm out of the house to scout on the vineyard.

Harold and I get in a good four hours of scouting over a vast majority of the northwest corner and I'm pleased to find no additional evidence of downy mildew. The vines look quite good for this time of year and that pleases me greatly, but not near as much as returning home to see my wife.

I enter through the kitchen and Mrs. Porcelli appears to be putting the final touches on dinner. "Smells good in here. What are we having?"

"Laurelyn said you had a heavy lunch so she asked for a lighter dinner." I totally agree with her on that. I love cheeseburgers, fries, and shakes but that isn't a meal that should become a habit, especially not when you have a family history like mine. "I hope salmon with rice and asparagus fits the bill."

"Sounds perfect." I open the fridge and take out a beer. "Did Laurelyn rest after I went to work?"

"She's been on the couch most of the afternoon and I'm fairly certain she took a nap." Good. She needs plenty of rest. "She says the doctor gave her a good report. I'm very happy to hear that. I've been quite concerned about her and the baby."

"We're told the danger is behind us and the remainder of the pregnancy should proceed normally with the cerclage in place."

"That's such good news." She opens the oven door to check the fish and the aroma fills the kitchen. "Will you be eating in the living room again?"

L's sentence there is over and I'm guessing she's as sick of eating on the couch as I am. "No. We'll dine at the table tonight."

"Then dinner will be there for you in ten minutes or so."

"Thank you. I'll let Laurelyn know."

L isn't on the couch and I don't find her in our bedroom. There's only one place I a.s.sume she'll be. She's out in the music studio checking on its progress. She hasn't seen it in three weeks so she's going to be surprised at all they've accomplished.

Although I'm quite content with her no longer working, she's determined to get back to composing. She argues that it isn't right for her to not work, that she should be bringing in some kind of income, but I disagree. She's my wife and I make more than enough to support us.

I'm not wrong-the studio is where I find her. "What do you think of it?"

She's looking around, a look of awe plastered on her face. "I'm shocked. I can't believe how much they've done in the last few weeks. It's almost finished."

"I spoke with the contractor this afternoon. He said another week and we should be able to get you in here, songbird."

"Songbird," she repeats. "I like that."

"Did you take a tour without me?"

She looks guilty. "I did. I saw the workers leave and I couldn't resist coming out for a peek."

"It's okay. Have you seen all you want to see?"

She takes another glance around the room. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Dinner's ready. I told Mrs. Porcelli we'd dine at the table tonight."

"No argument here. I'm sick of that couch."

"Me too."

We spend the evening on the couch we've come to despise. Laurelyn's sitting on one end reading, probably the only thing that's kept her sane these past two weeks, while I'm on the other end catching up on missed work. It's just sales reports, something I could do in my office, but that would mean being away from her. I enjoy this quiet time together, even when we're not talking. Just her nearness is enough sometimes.

I look up and notice L has placed her e-reader on top of her belly and has dozed off. I'm not surprised. She sleeps a lot now, much more than she did before she became pregnant. I'm glad because rest is important for her and the baby.

I place my work on the coffee table and scoot over to her. "Time for bed."

She stirs a little and slowly opens her eyes. "Wow. I was reading a hot s.e.x scene one minute and then bam, I fall into a coma."

"Really? You were reading about hot s.e.x?"

She grins, maybe even blushes a little. "Did I just admit that?"

"Yes, you did." I place her e-reader on the table next to my paperwork and grasp her hands to help her up. "Come on, pervert."

She goes into the bathroom to do her nightly ritual and I'm already in bed when she comes out. She climbs in next to me, wearing a pink and white cotton gown. It's lacy around the neck and innocent looking, not intended to be s.e.xy at all, but my c.o.c.k rouses simply by seeing her get into bed next to me. I know better. I shouldn't look at her when she leans over to turn off her bedside lamp, but I can't not look because her gown has gathered around her b.u.m. I catch a glimpse of her pink cotton knickers and I'm immediately sorry. Ugh! I'm going to have to downgrade to jerking off-and soon. It's not like I haven't done it before, although it was mostly as an adolescent.

She leans over to kiss me goodnight and reaches for the back of my head to hold me close. I kiss her back, although I shouldn't, and she becomes more aggressive. That's when I realize this is not the same simple goodnight kiss she has given me each night for the past two weeks.

"This is another example like the ketchup incident today. You can't do this to me. It's agony."

"But it doesn't have to be. There's still plenty we can do." She slides across the bed and climbs over to kneel between my legs. She puts her fingers in the waistband of my sleep pants and tugs. "My mouth isn't off limits."

Oh f.u.c.k. My girl is going to suck me off.

I lift my hips, beyond excited about what L is going to do to me. I haven't gotten off in weeks so I'm happier than a camel on Wednesday.

I've wanted to jerk off many times over the last few weeks but it felt wrong to experience any kind of pleasure while L was going through so much, especially while she was in the hospital fighting to save our baby. I couldn't even consider it then. I thought about it after she was home and the initial danger was behind us, but it still didn't feel right since she was in such a miserable state.

This, however, doesn't feel wrong, so I grab her pillow and prop it with mine behind my head so I can watch her every move.

She puts her palms on my thighs and glides them upward until her fingertips brush my b.a.l.l.s. She teases me for a moment, lightly sweeping her fingers back and forth, and I think I'll implode from the antic.i.p.ation.

Her hand moves up and holds the base of my c.o.c.k as she circles her tongue around the head. The stiff tip flicks several times at a supersensitive area just below the crown. She alternates these motions several times before taking me fully into her mouth. "That feels so f.u.c.king good." I put my hands in her hair and pull all of it into my fist in a high ponytail because I love watching my c.o.c.k slide in and out of her mouth. I could almost come just by the sight of it alone.

She takes me out of her mouth and anchors my c.o.c.k against my stomach. Then she does something new. Her tongue starts at the base of my b.a.l.l.s and she licks the pleasure trail running top to bottom along my s.c.r.o.t.u.m, the seam separating my boys. She draws the loose skin of the seam into her mouth and lightly sucks, bringing the blood, and the pleasure receptors, to the surface. "f.u.c.k!" I groan.

She smiles and looks up at me. "You like that, huh?"

"Yeah," I laugh. "I like that a-f.u.c.king-lot. Please don't let this be the one and only time you do that."

"I've got plenty more for you, caveman."

She takes my c.o.c.k back into her mouth and ma.s.sages my b.a.l.l.s for a moment before I feel her finger against the skin under my sac. She presses it more firmly and rotates it in a circular motion. Slow, and then fast. Soft, and then hard. I've never been harder and what's building has never felt more powerful. "Ohh ..." I tap her on the head, our signal that I'm about to come, but I can't say the words. I'm speechless aside from the incomprehensible garble leaving my mouth.

She stops and holds my c.o.c.k so it's pointing toward my stomach as she continues pressing that spot under my b.a.l.l.s until I have this crazy, powerful explosion, by far the most intense o.r.g.a.s.m I've ever experienced. "Holy s.h.i.t, L. That was ..." I can't even think of a fitting word to describe it.

"Great?" She looks so hopeful, as if she's afraid she hasn't pleased me.

Calling it great would be an insult. "Mind-blowing is a better word, but even that doesn't do it justice. Don't get me wrong. You've given me some fantastic head in the past but that was the best ever. What was that you were doing with your finger?"

I think she's blushing. "It was my knuckle and I was stimulating your prostate."

I look at how much c.u.m is on my stomach. "You stimulated me, all right. I think you milked me dry."

"I've heard there's more s.e.m.e.n when you press the prostate so I was afraid to swallow." She shakes her head. "This pregnancy still has my gag reflex working overtime." She slides to the edge of the bed. "I'm gonna grab a towel."

She returns and wipes me clean. She rolls the towel up, tossing it out of the way, and then slides in next to me. I pull her close and kiss her as I slide my hand under her gown, but she grabs my wrist. "No."

"I'm only going to touch on the outside."

She moves my hand away. "I don't think it's a good idea."

"I know anything on the inside is off limits, but I want to make you feel good too."

She shakes her head. "Lying next you after giving you a mind-blowing o.r.g.a.s.m makes me feel good."

"I can do much better than that."

"I'm afraid to have an o.r.g.a.s.m even if nothing goes inside me. Maybe we can try later when the baby is far enough along to survive, in case it puts me into labor or something."

She's right. It isn't worth the risk just to feel good. "Okay."

She puts her head on my chest and traces an infinity on my stomach around my belly b.u.t.ton with her finger. "Don't be mad."

I could never be upset with her over something like this. "Baby, I'm not mad. You're thinking of our child's safety. I could never be upset with you over that."

"Pleasing you pleases me, so I'm fine with getting you off and not having the favor returned. You can make up for it later."

I will definitely make this up to her. "I know you don't mind but I love making you come. It's quite satisfying for me to watch your face when you squeeze your eyes shut and scrunch your cute little nose as you open your mouth and pant."

"That's what I look like when I come?"

"Almost every time."

She turns and props her chin on my chest. "What do I look like the other times?"

"Sometimes you bite your bottom lip. Both of your come faces are really hot. Lets me know I'm doing something right."

"Everything you do is perfect. You always make me feel great." She lifts her face and stretches to kiss me. "Never doubt that, McLachlan."

She lowers her head to my chest and settles in as though she might be ready for sleep. Again.

We lie there for a brief moment when I hear her sharp intake of breath. "What is it? Are you having a pain?"

She lifts her head to look at me and grins. "No. The baby is moving." I've yet to feel a single movement. Every time I try, the baby either stills or I simply can't detect it. It may seem silly, but I think I'm a little jealous that L's feeling it and I can't. "This little stinker is turning flips tonight so I bet you'll feel it this time. Give me your hand."

L turns to her back and lifts her gown. She takes my hand and places at the top of her small b.u.mp. "It's more on the left side." We're silent, waiting, as if the absence of sound will help my sense of feel.

And then it happens. I feel a gentle nudge beneath my hand. "I felt that." And I feel something else as well. Love-the true and real kind.

I got into my music studio a few weeks ago and I've been banging out the tunes like crazy. It's weird-maybe like the break I had from the time I left Southern Ophelia to now was what I really needed to make this transition from performer to composer a successful one. Or maybe I'm just happy with my life and it's finding its way into my music.

I've conferenced with Charlie and the gang a few times and they're really excited about the material I'm working on. Randy wants first pick and that totally works for me. I have no problem selling my songs minus the pain of marketing them.

Kim, my female lead replacement for Southern Ophelia, says she loves my lyrics because they speak to her. She's like me in a lot of ways. She only sings songs that touch her so we've been working on a special single together. The guys don't know about it-and she's asked me to not tell them-and I think I know why. This song is her story and the way she feels about a man. I happen to believe the song is about Charlie. I guess it could be anyone, but the lyrics she's contributed tell me she's in deep.

I'm absorbed into the song in my head when Jack Henry comes into my studio. "L, you're going to be late for your appointment."

I look at the time and he's right. I should've been gone ten minutes ago. "s.h.i.t." I get up from my stool at the piano and go over to give him a kiss. "I gotta run."

He grabs my arm to get my full attention before I'm able to get away. "No speeding to make it on time. I mean it. You can't beat the clock so don't try."

That's something I would have once attempted, but not now. "I'll obey all the traffic laws."

He kisses my cheek. "I'm really sorry I can't go with you today."

He feels bad he doesn't make it to the doctor's with me every time. "It's okay. I see her every week so you can't take off from work for every appointment, even if you are the boss."

"Get a picture of her for me so I can see how much my girl's grown this week."

He has to stop doing that, always calling this baby a girl, but I don't have time to scold him. I think that's one reason he's doing it-because I'm on my way out the door and I don't have time. "I always do."

My ultrasound goes well, as does my cervical exam. No change. I'm twenty-six weeks now and everything remains on track, so I decide it's a good time to speak with Dr. Sommersby about my concerns. "My husband and I have a question. We understand that we can't have penetrative s.e.x, but is it okay for me to ... o.r.g.a.s.m other ways?"

"Oral s.e.x and mutual masturbation are fine as long as nothing goes inside the v.a.g.i.n.a and you don't experience contractions, leaking, or bleeding afterward. You'd need to come to the hospital immediately if any of those things occur." She never misses a beat as she continues doc.u.menting in the computer, a sign this isn't the first time she's answered this question, so I feel minimally better about having asked. She finishes her doc.u.mentation and closes the laptop. "Have any other questions or concerns?"

"I think that's it."

I use the drive home to think about what Jack Henry and I will do tonight. I want it to be great, not that it isn't always, but I deserve something special seeing as I haven't had an o.r.g.a.s.m in eight weeks. Eight. Weeks. That's crazy. He'll probably touch me once and I'll come. Yeah, it's that bad.

I see Jack Henry on the vineyard as I'm coming up the drive so I stop. He abandons whatever he's in the middle of doing and walks my way. I watch him coming toward me, in his rugged wear and Indiana Jones hat, and my heart still skips a beat. Oh my, he's so d.a.m.n good-looking. I still can't believe he's all mine.

He takes a couple of brisk steps before jumping the white fence surrounding the vineyard. "Everything go okay?"

"Yeah." I reach into my purse to take out the ultrasound picture. "I even have proof."

He takes it from me and a grin spreads. "My girl is growing."

"Indeed I am. I gained another two pounds since I saw the doctor last week."

He holds up the picture. "I meant this girl."

I knew exactly who he meant. I just wanted to aggravate him the way he does me. "You're going to feel really weird when this baby comes out a boy."

"I don't think so. I feel it deep down in my gut."

I'm the mother and the baby is inside me. You'd think I'd be the one with the gut feeling. "Okay, clairvoyant one. I hope you can also see a name in your crystal ball since we don't have one yet."

"We have plenty of time to come up with the perfect name."

I'm tired of she, her, he, him, and it. "I'd like to choose one for each gender so I don't have to continue thinking of this child as nameless." We look at one another and laugh. "I guess that would be fitting-the nameless companions to have a nameless child."