One Night Stand Ch. 08

She shook her head, and drops of water flew from her wet hair, "But you're..."

"Hard? Erect? Damn it, woman, you think I have jack shit control of what my body does? How it reacts to the woman I love? The mother of my child? Well, I don't. But that does not mean I'll ever pressure you for everything."

He bent until his forehead rested against hers. He was pretty confident that some of the water cascading down her cheeks were tears. "I know that right now, you're in no shape physically, mentally, or emotionally for anything. I just want to look at you, hold you, and be there for you, sweetheart. Will you let me? Please?"

He was sure now that those were tears because they ran faster, there were more of them. "But, I'm disgusting."

He hoped like hell he was not blowing his chance with her as he stepped forward and rubbed his now fully erect cock against her thigh, "Exhibit A, counselor. Seems pretty hard evidence to the contrary."

She chuckled, though he heard how strained it was, "Just get on with it."

"Yes, Ma'am," Ryan smiled as he lathered those breasts. He noticed that not only were they considerably large, but there was a road map of blue veins just beneath the surface. Her nipples puckered, and he thought he heard her moan. He lifted the showerhead from the holder on the wall on rinsed her.

Laura kept her eyes closed, perhaps so she would not have to see his raging hard-on. Damn it; he might need a few minutes alone after he got her and the baby settled tonight.

Her nipples tightened even more as the warm water hit her breasts. He almost lost his mind when he saw a drop of thick yellowish liquid appear at the tip. Laura lifted her arms, trying to cross them over so he would not see.

"Fuck," he cursed. He wanted like hell to drop his knees, to suckle as he had watched his daughter do. He knew now was not the time, but he'd be damned if he was letting it go to waste. His finger collected the single drop and brought it to his lip. The taste was not like milk at all. Sweet, more like the honey that it resembled.

"Colostrum. It's called colostrum. My real milk won't come in for another day or two. If it does..." He heard the catch in her voice at those words and drew her into his arms once more.

He lifted the showerhead back into place and just held her for a long moment as those tears burst forth. He had read enough in those books to know that her hormones were all over the place. But these were exceptional circumstances. Most new mothers were not on the run for their lives with their babies, fearing for their family's safety, and with their whole lives uncertain.

He wanted to tell her everything would be alright. Hell, he wanted to play the hero and make things okay. But he had learned on his first SEAL mission that they were no heroes in this world. Things were never as simple as black and white. And sometimes even innocent women and children got hurt.

So, he did the only thing he could. He held her under that shower while she cried. Until the water got cold. Not that that helped with his raging hardon very much. But when her hiccups began to lessen just a bit, he picked up the bottle of shampoo, lathered her hair, and rinsed it as quickly as he could. Then he grabbed that bar of soap and promptly finished the rest of the job he had begun earlier.

He lifted her too quiet body from the shower. That worried him even more. He knew she was going into shock. He wrapped her in that extra large bath sheet and did his best to do the same for her hair with the smaller towel. He was relieved when she took it from him and, with a tight smile, did the job herself.

He sat her back on the toilet and reached back into the hall. He found a nightgown that Jaycee had promised but also another pair of underwear and a pad though this one was not as thick. Modesty and embarrassment were forgotten as he did his best to help her dress.

He quickly toweled himself off and reached for his jeans. He cursed as he tried to pull the zipper back up. The smile on her face at his discomfort offered him a tiny sliver of hope, "Problem with your exhibits, counselor?"

"Nothing I can't handle myself later, counselor," he teased as he lifted her back into his arms and opened the door. "But first, I'm taking you to bed."

She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, "I wish that were as interesting as it sounds."

He kissed her forehead, "We have a lifetime, darlin.'" And he hoped like hell that was a promise he could keep.