I thank Terzima for her support and her work of translation into English.

Thanks to Benex, Lipamo, LilMisfit5290 and Bookworm1986 for their reviews and encouragements!

This is a T-rated chapter and it took me forever to write it.
Enjoy your reading.

A New Life

Part 4

"We love you as you are, and you, do you love us?"

The question hovered in the air, as if suspended. I was waiting anxiously for his answer, it was unbearable. His hand on my stomach, covered by my own hands, radiated a familiar and reassuring heat. He didn't turn around, he was focused on me, trying to tell me something without uttering a word. But I needed to hear it.

"I don't know what you feel any more. I'm not even sure to feel something."

My eyes left him to conceal my distress, I searched the dark sky for courage. I needed a great deal of it to admit I was heading for disaster.

He removed his hand and I didn't hold it back this time: he wanted to take some distance again. It was better actually. My sensitivity was so high that it could easily overflow and I didn't want to see him collapse when confronted to my pain.
Against all odds, he lay down by my side, I could make out his profile. He brushed my cheek with his hand, applying a little pressure so that I would turn my face toward him. I let him guide me, his fiery fingers made me feverish. My eyes fluttered around him without really looking at him.

"I don't have much to offer you."

I turned so that I was facing him. His head was lying on his folded arm, I adopted the same position. His hand had left my cheek but it kept the mark of his touch.

"Of course you do!"

His eyebrows formed a V but I continued:

"You always refuse to open up because you're afraid to suffer and I can understand that, damn, yes, I get that! But I'm struggling and you're not helping me at all! I'm looking for the strength to keep both our heads above water and I won't be able to go on like this forever, Brody!"

I lowered my eyes.

"I'm scared," I confessed in a whisper.

I still felt that the dam holding back my pain was about to break and I wanted to hide it from him. He pulled me against him with his free arm which he put on my shoulder. I buried my face in his neck, breathing him in an audible relief. I felt him shudder while I relaxed. I slipped my arm around his waist.

We stayed like this for a long time, I relished the tenderness he gave me and that I had been deprived of. His hand lingered in my hair, then it slid down between my shoulder blades and stayed there.

"You didn't answer my question."
"What question?"
"Do you love us?"

Why did I keep pushing him like that?

He remained silent. I raised my head to face him again. His eyes were shining, his expression tried to hold something back. His hand gently continued its way down to the small of my back laid bare by my short t-shirt. The touch of his warm hand set me on fire, and I forgot all my interrogations. I closed my eyes, arching my back, hungry for his body. He reacted in turn, his hand pressing on me to put us closer. My mouth found his own like a radar, his other arm left his head and slipped under my face to close on the nape of my neck. He kissed me slowly, in contrast to the frantic passion of our bodies that were searching for one another. His kiss became so deep that I lost track of the universe. There were only me and him left.

Us.

I savored his specific taste. My arousal was intensely painful, made stronger by all the months spent without him. A tiny sense of guilt tarnished the moment when I remembered that pale clone met at some grocery store. He had satisfied the physical neediness but the wound on my heart had been left gaping. Only Brody could heal it, only Brody could make me happy.

His mouth shifted on my jaw, he thrust his hand under my jeans, under my panties, grabbing my butt. My desire became unbearable and threatened to explode while his tongue drew a fiery way on my throat. My hand found its way under his t-shirt, guessing each scar of his back. He made me tip over onto my back and fell down on me, by reflex I tensed up, I had something to protect. He felt it and froze, dampened. He stared at my belly, breathing fast. He let go of me, straightened up despite my protest.

"Let's go sleep."
"I don't want to sleep!"
"I'm tired."

He held out his hand to help me stand up. I caught him and tried to pull him toward me but he had anticipated my move. He yanked and I had no other choice but stand on my feet. He started to walk, convinced I would follow. Had I made a mistake? Would this child pull us apart? Was it one burden too many?

Inside the house, the lights were off, only the staircase lamp was twinkling. There was no sign of our hostess.

In the bedroom, he locked the door, took his jeans off and went into the bathroom. I rummaged through the bag, searching for nightclothes, to no avail. He came out and directly got in the bed.
I turned the light off.
The moon took over, lighting the room with its soft glow. I also went quickly to the bathroom, undressed completely and got into the crisp sheets. I was not ready to sleep but had too much pride to beg for his attention. I went through the episode near the rivulet again with hindsight.
My face twisted, I was suffering more than ever.
"You think I'm strong, but I'm not," I broke the silence. "Not when I'm carrying your child in your complete indifference."
He didn't move an inch.
"You know my feelings for you," I flared up madly at his inertia. "I opened up to you several times! I gave you all! All!"
I had yelled the last words, my fists against my temples, furious and aching at the same time. He suddenly turned around, making me jump. He hauled himself above me, on his elbows not to impose his weight on me.
"What about me? Didn't I give enough to this world?"

Anger? Was it what he was expressing? I blinked under the immensity of his gaze which was black in the dark room.
I didn't answer, exhilarated by the sudden strength he projected. I circled his face with my hands, he caught one of my fists.
"Answer me!"
Anger made his voice shake, making it harsher, more manly, increasing my arousal.
"What do you expect from me? Answer me!"

Right now, I wanted him to put an end to my agony. My mind was blurred with desire, I could hardly think. I tried to kiss him, wriggling like an eel, thirsting. Without warning, he got rid of the barrier that was between us and took me brusquely. I tensed up, not in pain but in stress. Not like that. Not like that.

"Not like that," I was able to utter to bring him to reason.

It was not the same passion. I couldn't define what was going on but I didn't want to deal with it. I pushed him back vigorously, he resisted, letting out a long groan, indifferent to my refusal, then slumped on his side.

My heart was beating up to my temples. I heard him turn over. Lying on my back, I watched the ceiling, the dark and moving shapes created by the moon. I wanted to forget about the dampness between my legs, the frustration of unsatisfied and denied desire. I wanted to forget my mistakes, forget my actions, forget my love. I wanted to forget my pregnancy, forget Brody.
But it was impossible.
I felt a heavy pressure on my chest. A moan left my lips and I couldn't help it. I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. In the dark, I can't tell how long I stayed standing against the sink before groping my way into the bathtub. I wanted to erase all traces of that inappropriateness. I couldn't find any other word to define what had just happened. Once I was done, I allowed myself to cry under the stream of tepid water, thus my tears would go unnoticed.

When I went back to bed, I knew he was asleep. I snuggled up against his back – it was where I wanted to be and nowhere else – closed my eyes and sank into sleep, exhausted from crying.

I woke up with a start, confused. Was it daylight? Yes, but the thick curtains had been pulled to soften the light. Brody was there, turned toward me, his eyes locked in mine. Everything came back to my mind, it made my breathing heavier. I mechanically ran my hand over my mouth to make sure I had not drooled in my sleep.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
It was audibly and painfully sincere. And his face was an open book. My chin quivered, so did my lips, but I didn't want to fall apart before him.
"Don't worry."
I tried to act it cool, unconcerned. He was not fooled.
"I didn't mean to hurt you."
" You didn't."
"Carrie – " he sighed.
My head shifted to the side.

I was being stupid to continue with my little drama act. He was trying to communicate and this time, I was the one who refused the opportunity. He pushed aside the part of the sheet that was between us to get closer, laying me bare at the same time. I started to put the sheet back on me but he stopped me, scrutinizing each part of my body. It was as if he had flipped a switch. His heavy gaze brutally rekindled my desire. He brushed against my neck, my clavicle, one of my breasts. My chest heaved as if under an electric shock. His fingers worked their way around my belly, stroked my waist, my hip, my thigh and finally my knee. He stopped his exploration and I tried to know why. The blue of his eyes was luminous, aphrodisiac. I didn't know how to breathe anymore.

My tension exploded when finally his fingers slipped between my thighs. I squeezed them convulsively in an experimental rubbing. I bit my lips not to scream while pleasure mounted uninvited, making all my erogenous zones jerk until I reached orgasm.

He laid his head on my chest while I unclenched my thighs, my body limp.
I had known sexual pleasure under various forms but this one was new to me. It had been unexpected and powerful, as powerful as my love for him. I loved him so much that his simple touch, his scent, the texture of his skin triggered a rapturous delight.

"We've got to go," he told me.
He was right. Reality caught up with me with a boomerang precision.
"I'll go and get something for you to eat, get yourself ready."
He was already out of bed, pulling on his jeans. His gestures were mechanical, unconvinced. Was he suddenly scared like I was scared? He cleared up the map, our stuff that was on the floor, the bag.
"Brody?" I called him urgently.
"Yes?"
I was sitting on the edge of the bed, ridiculously wrapped up in the sheet. I held out my hand. He came nearer without hesitation and opened up his arms for me.
"It will be fine."
His words had the intended effect: I felt better, safe, enfolded in his arms.

More to come soon.