A Little Bit of Déjà Vu (12 page)

“Admit it, Mom. You were prejudiced against him ‘cause he used to play football.”

She didn’t like the direction the conversation was taking. “You’re right. I was.”

Emma tipped her head. “What do you have against the sport, anyway?”

Her daughter would never buy it if Margie denied her feelings toward the game. She’d made it fairly obvious over the years that she had no use for it. “I once knew a football player who soured me on it.”

“I thought it was something like that. Daddy always changed the channel whenever a game came on television.”

Dan had made sure Margie was never exposed to any news reports or magazines about sports. He’d insisted he wanted to shield her from any further pain—but it had actually been himself he’d been sparing. Not that Jake had been the only source of Dan’s insecurity. Her husband had never stopped worrying he would lose her to a younger man. Especially the last few years as his age began to affect his sexual performance.

No matter how much she’d reassured Dan, he’d never forgotten he was her second choice.

~~~

For the umpteenth time in months, Margie woke at five minutes after twelve to the odd scraping sound that occurred like clockwork at around midnight and again at five-thirty every morning. As she rolled over to go back to sleep, a deep muted voice drifted into her open window on a gentle breeze.

Her eyes popped open. Had Jake’s son been coming there every night to sleep with her daughter?

Margie covered her mouth in horror as the nocturnal noises suddenly made sense. Emma’s soft cries and thrashing apparently had nothing to do with nightmares. And the rhythmic rocking and moans that had occasionally disturbed Margie hadn’t been filtering through the common wall she shared with her swinging single neighbor as she’d assumed. It had been coming from her sweet little girl’s bedroom.

She flipped back the covers and crept to the window, pressing her ear to the screen to make certain she wasn’t mistaken.

“Mmmm—Alex,” Emma’s sleepy purr floated into Margie’s window. “I was just dreaming about you.”

“I didn’t think my dad would ever go to bed tonight,” he murmured.

The subtle rasp of a zipper and rustle of clothing muffled her daughter’s soft giggle. “Now that they know about the baby, don’t you think they might guess?”

“I don’t give a damn. I hate sleeping without you, Angel. Umm....” He groaned. “That feels incredible. I love you.”

“Alex, I need you, right now.”

“Damn, Em.” He chuckled. “That must’ve been one helluva dream.”

The closets between her and Emma’s rooms had evidently muffled the sound before this. If she hadn’t left the windows open and wasn’t cognizant of what was going on in the bedroom, she would never attributed Emma’s soft moans to her child having sex.

Margie’s cheeks flamed as fury mounted in her. How dare that horny little bastard sneak in every night for a booty call. Worse yet, how could her daughter violate the trust she’d always enjoyed?

Prepared to rip Emma a new one, Margie dashed out of her bedroom and came to a screeching halt outside her daughter’s closed door as a faint thumping began serenading her outrage. Every maternal cell in her ached to burst through the door and yank that six-foot dick off her little girl. Except as angry as Margie was, she would very likely say or do something she’d later regret. Especially if the boy ended up becoming her son-in-law.

Heck, Alex’s father was the master psychologist. Maybe he could tell her what she should do in this situation besides yanking every hair from her daughter’s head and kicking his son in the family jewels.

Better yet, Jake could come beat some sense into his kid.

She tiptoed down the hallway to the kitchen, trying to block out the amorous sounds. Now that she was fully aware, and there wasn’t a closetful of clothing between her and Emma’s room to deaden the barely audible gasps and moans, her senses tuned in to the rhythmic rocking of her daughter’s bed. The increasingly frantic beat became so amplified in her head it sounded like the deafening click-clack of a locomotive chugging faster and faster down a railroad track.

She searched for her telephone directory for several minutes before she remembered seeing it in the living room. By the time she located Alex’s home number, the cadence coming from the bedroom had turned to a frenzied beat.

The phone rang several times before Jake finally yawned in her ear and mumbled, “Hullo.”

“It’s twelve-twenty in the morning,” Margie whispered into the receiver. “Do you know where your son is—and probably has been every night for quite a while now?”

“Maggie?”

“Who’d you think this was, the
Easter Bunny
?”

“Give me a break.” Jake groaned. “I’m half asleep.”

“At least someone’s getting some rest. A strange scraping noise has been waking me at midnight and again at five-thirty every morning. Since it’s been so hot, tonight’s the first night I’ve been able to turn off the A/C and leave the windows open.”

“You mentioned that earlier this evening. So why are you calling in the middle of the night to tell me again?”

“Because that sound was Emma’s window opening, and at this very moment, your son is having sex with my daughter. The sounds drifting out of her room would make a sex therapist blush. If I knock on her door, I’m liable to kill both of them. You’re the one working on your doctoral dissertation on handling teenagers. What should I do,
Dr. Phil
?”

“Ahh—now it makes sense.”

“What does?” she asked, pacing the kitchen.

“A few weeks ago, I happened to lean on Alex’s car early one morning. I couldn’t understand why the hood was so warm. This explains it.”

“I would say so. I feel like an idiot I didn’t catch on before this.”

“I don’t know why you’re so surprised.” He chuckled. “I told you he was probably getting it on with Emma every chance he got.”

“Well, I never expected him to do it right under my nose. Or to create the opportunity for himself.”

“That’s because you were never an eighteen-year-old guy. I guarantee, Sweetheart, if you sent Emma to the moon, Alex would find a way there if he thought he’d get laid.”

“Wonderful. My daughter’s having a sex maniac’s baby.”

“Now you have the picture.” He yawned. “That polite, clean-cut honor student is still two hundred pounds of testosterone. Close your window, and go back to sleep. I’ll handle it.”

She stepped out in the hall to check if the soft sounds coming from the bedroom had finally ceased. Not only hadn’t the rocking ceased, it had become a rapid-fire knocking, punctuated by Emma’s muffled cries of pleasure.

A twinge of envy pricked Margie as the kids’ frenzied lovemaking brought to mind her incredible passion-filled night with Jake. It reminded her of what she’d missed by settling for marriage to a man who’d never really excited her.

“I can’t believe you want me to simply let this go. Aren’t you angry?”

“I’m pissed as hell. I’m not saying ignore it. Let Emma have it with both barrels—but
tomorrow
when you’re in control. Making a scene in the heat of the moment won’t change anything. As we said earlier, how much more trouble can they get into? Just go back to sleep.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Now that I know what’s going on in there, I’m hearing every little squeak of Emma’s bed. I can’t believe they’re still going at it.”

“Jealous, Maggie?”

Yes, damn it
. “Hardly.”

“It’s either that, or you have a very poor memory,” he said in a smug tone. “I don’t know how flyboy was in the sack, but the night we had sex, I distinctly remember the mattress springs getting a workout.”

“Then I guess I need some Ginkgo Biloba, because I don’t recall it being anything special,” she lied.

“Uh-huh. Believe me, teenage guys have more stamina than you have patience. And considering my son’s a trained athlete, he’ll probably go for an encore. Just close your window and stick some cotton in your ears. But before you do, what’s your condo’s unit number?”

“What’re you planning to do?”

“Scare the hell out of my kid and embarrass him, of course.”

Chapter 7

Intense shivers wracked Emma’s entire body, making her insides pulsate with pleasure. “Again, please,” she gasped.

Alex chuckled in her ear. “What’s gotten into you, Angel?”

“You.” She giggled. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I want you all the time.”

“If you ask me, I’d say that’s something very right.”

In the past month or so, her body had become ultra sensitive. It made no sense. It seemed more reasonable for the urge to have sex to go away while a woman carried a baby.

“I’m definitely keeping you barefoot and pregnant.” He kissed her, stepping up the tempo of his thrusting.

As the tension inside her coiled tightly again, she froze at the sound of murmuring in the distance. “Wait—do you hear something?”

He nipped at her ear. “Oh, jeez, Em, don’t quit on me, now. I’m about to expl—”

“Stop.” She pushed at his chest. “I think my mother’s talking to someone.”

Huffing, he rolled off her and flopped on his back. “Who gives a damn?” He panted. “Right now, she could be throwin’ a freakin’ Tupperware party for all I care.”

“Well, I care.” She already felt guilty enough about deceiving her mother. “Who’s she talking to at this hour? And what’s she doing awake?”

He turned on his side and caressed her cheek. “If you’d just found out your kid was pregnant, would you be able to sleep? She’s probably unloading on your Aunt Barbara or one of her friends.”

“Maybe.” Emma gnawed on her lip. Her mom had every right to be upset with her.

As he flipped on the lamp, she yanked the sheet up, and an exasperated puff burst from his chest. “When are you going to relax with me, Angel?” He tugged on the corner of the covers. “I’m dying to look at you.”

She’d been freaked out about letting him see her naked before she’d become pregnant—but now that her stomach had started to swell…

“You know, you’ll have to let the doctor examine you.”

“I know.” She chewed on her lip. “But that’s different.”

She didn’t know why she felt so self-conscious about letting Alex see her undressed. Maybe deep down she was simply afraid her body would disappoint him.

“
Pleease
, Em.” His eyebrows lifted in a pleading arch.

Swallowing hard, she loosened her grip on the sheet enough to let him pull it down several inches to expose her larger breast. Desire leapt in his eyes like the flames on a three-alarm fire. His gaze lingered on her nipple for a few seconds before panic swelled in her chest like a balloon inflating inside her. She flipped off the light. “I think we’d better go to sleep. My mom might hear us.”

“If she hasn’t in the last six months, I seriously doubt she will, now.”

“Aleeex.”

“We can be really quiet. And believe me, I’m so close it will only be a minute.”

She stifled a moan of pleasure as he entered her again. Good to his word, in only twenty seconds, Alex groaned softly, collapsed, and immediately rolled off her. He brushed his lips over hers as he pulled her into the crook of his shoulder and stroked her back. “Thank you, Angel. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispered, completely mystified that he could care so much for her, especially considering the way she frustrated him.

Undoubtedly, Brandy would be thrilled to strip for him—as would a hundred other girls in their school. But, of course, they all had bodies straight out of a Playboy magazine. None of them had pubic hair so dark it resembled the Black Forest. Nor did they have an orange-sized boob on one side and a tangerine-sized one on the other. And since her breasts had swelled with her pregnancy, the lack of symmetry in her body had become even more pronounced.

She couldn’t believe Alex hadn’t felt the difference or noticed the extra padding her mom had sewn into the left cup of her bras. Or maybe he was just too nice to say anything.

She snuggled closer and petted his head. If she hoped to keep him interested, she had to get a grip on herself and find a way to stop freezing up whenever he turned on the light.

Sighing, she gazed at the dark ceiling and silently said goodnight to her father the way she always had whenever he’d been away on a long flight.
I know you’re probably not happy about me getting pregnant, Daddy, but I love Alex so much. He could’ve had any girl he wanted, and he chose me.

~~~

Roxanne Warrington stepped aside while Chris Dillon took her keys and unlocked her Manhattan penthouse on the Upper East Side. Since March, Jake’s friend had been showing up at her office every Friday evening to visit.

She couldn’t understand why. Gherkin and she had never gotten along. Strangely enough, she could’ve gone for him in a big way in college if she hadn’t already had her sights set on Jake.

And if Chris hadn’t been so obnoxious.

It was probably just as well. With the way Gherkin bed-hopped, he would’ve broken her heart even faster than Jake had.

It had taken her three years to finally pull her life together. After summoning up the courage to end her marriage, she’d watched Alex grow from a distance at his Pop Warner games and had never let him or Jake know she’d been there.

It had been in her son’s best interest for her to stay away until she was clean for a few months. But that had been easier said than done. Attending Alex’s eighth grade graduation and spending time with him had been the carrot she’d dangled in front of herself every time she began jonesing for a fix.

When Alex snubbed her and then sent her the bitter thank you note for the car, it became clear how much he resented her. It was too late to fix the damage she’d done. It still amazed her how she’d found the inner strength to stay clean after his rejection.

Chris swung the door open and handed back her keys.

She brushed a kiss over his lips, and her heart missed a beat as she breathed in his virile scent. “Thanks for dinner, Gherkin, I had a great time.” She glanced at her watch. “I’d ask you in for a nightcap, but it’s already almost one.”