“Uh, no,” Jennifer said. “No, thank you.”
“We’re not doing anything she’s not comfortable with,” Harlan said. “I’m just checking.”
Checking.Right.
“Right, then,” the doctor said. “The usual rules apply. Wear a condom. Use extra lube. Wash before you go between orifices. Youreallydon’t want a vaginal infection at this time. And above all—be gentle. This isn’t the time to push her limits, whatever your normal play style is.”
The doctor could tell. She couldtell.“Kinky” was apparently branded on Jennifer’s forehead. It was definitely branded on Harlan’s, and he didn’t evencare.Of course, he was a football player. Kinky was probably a requirement.
Oh, no. Was she going to have to talk aboutthatwith Dyma, too? Everything in her quailed at the thought. The eye-rolling. The sighing.
The titanic levels of embarrassment.
“Also,” the doctorhadto go on, “hemorrhoids are common in pregnancy. Constipation, too. And those would rule out anal sex. Are you suffering from either of those?” she asked Jennifer.
By the time they left the office, Jennifer had pretty much melted into a puddle of mortification. She hissed at Harlan, the second they were outside, “I am not telling you whether I have hemorrhoids. No. No. No. I’m not supposed to do anything I’m not comfortable with? I’m not comfortable with that.”
He was laughing, pulling her close, giving her a kiss. “OK,” he promised. “All you have to say is ‘no.’ No explanation necessary.”
“Why?” she asked. “Why me? Why now? This is what they make the internet for! To look up embarrassing questions!”
“Dr. Mansfield went to medical school at Harvard,” he said, sounding annoyingly reasonable. “Number two medical school in the U.S. for obstetrics. She did her residency at Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston, which is number one. She has admitting privileges at the best hospitals. That’s why I picked her. Who wrote that article on the internet? Probably not somebody from Harvard. If you’ve got the best, youaskthe best. Plus, you’re high risk. Is the internet going to know that answer?”
“I am not high risk. I just have old eggs, but this egg was fine. You just saw.Fine.”
“I heard the lady,” Harlan said. “You’re high risk.”
“So high risk that you want to have analsexwith me! Way to tell me! How about buying me dinner first?”
He grinned, and she did, too. How could you help it? Then she started to laugh, and he joined in. They stood there in the middle of the parking lot and laughed until she was staggering against him, clutching his shoulders for support. “Most …” she managed to get out. “Most embarrassing moment of my life. Including the time my period soaked through my shorts in P.E. No, wait, that’s still the worst. But second worst. Second best. Kind of like … like …Harvard.How come my doctor didn’t go to the numberoneschool? Also, she wears leather pants.”
“Yep,” he said. “Too stylish for Portland. Notice she wasn’t fazed by the ring, though. Did I mention I want to buy you new jewelry? Because oh, yeah, I want to do that.”
Somehow, his arms were around her waist, and he was kissing her. Yes, in the parking lot. Looking exactly like Harlan Kristiansen. Long, lean-muscled legs in jeans that fit just fine, broad shoulders in a T-shirt that showed off the depth of that Viking chest, blue eyes, famous face. The works. She said, “Uh … jewelry? You mean, for there?”
He laughed again, and he kissed her again, too. “You got that piercing, but you won’t say the name. I kind of love that. Yeah, baby. For there. What do you think about a little barbell, the curved kind? I was looking, and … yeah. Even more barbaric-looking than a ring. That little barbell could get me excited. If I put a diamond in it …”
She shouldn’t be getting aroused by this. She was in the parking lot. It was an elevated moment. They’d just seen theirbaby.She nuzzled his neck and said, hearing her voice go breathy and deciding that worked just fine, “It could be hard for me to change it out. Hard to see, especially with the belly. I could need … help.”
He went still. He also went hard. She happened to be close enough to feel it. “Yeah,” he said, and the word came out strangled. “Yeah. I could do that. Lay you back on the bed and change out that piercing, nice and slow. And, hey.” He didn’t stand back far. Just far enough to see her face. “Just because I asked her for all the information doesn’t mean we have touseall the information. Up to you. I just figured, given that you’re enjoying being adventurous, and this is the new you and all, we might want to keep our options open.”
“Uh-huh. So youhaven’tbeen thinking about bending me over the kitchen table.”
“No,” he said, and she thought,No?“I’ve been thinking about bending you over a sex pillow. More comfortable. I’m holding your wrists, though, in this scenario, if that helps.”
That sent a jolt straight through her. Whether it was pregnancy, the piercing, or Harlan, she wasn’t sure, but here she went again. She shuddered, and she could tell he felt it.
“Yeah,” he said. “Might have to dress you up a little for that, though. The way you look in those black things of yours … Tell me. What are your feelings about stockings?”
* * *
Right.That was enough of that. Time to do the other stuff. The important stuff. Exactly because he wanted to stay in the Fun Zone—that was why he needed not to. He said, “So. That was fun. Want to go have a snack, though? Cup of tea? Something like that? I’d say go home, but … Dyma and Annabelle. Maybe we don’t want to share this right yet.”
“Oh.” She stilled against him, then stepped back and said, “Sure.”
“Wait.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her in again. “What?”
“Oh, just …” She was turning pink again. He’d never realized what a turn-on it would be to see every bit of a woman’s sweet embarrassment, right there on her face. “That I thought …”
