26. Arthur

26

ARTHUR

I was going to be a father again. It rocked me to my core and brought up levels of terror I’d thought I’d left behind. We made love with the kind of mixed passion that brought all of us together again and again. Hannah took us all at once, or one at a time, and never missed a chance to experience her pleasure. I loved watching her fall apart, whether it was in my arms or in Scott’s, Ryland’s, or all of us. We were a set.

She straddled my waist and sank onto my cock with a look of desire so pure it shocked me into stillness. Her body gleamed with sweat and the air was saturated with the scent of our lovemaking. We had been indulging in one another for hours. It did not matter. It was never enough.

“Let’s stay in bed all day,” I said as I withdrew then filled her again with a deep, hard thrust.

“Someone has to leave and bring back food.” Hannah put both hands on my chest and leaned her weight forward. Her clit ground against my groin. Sensing her need, I slid my thumb between us for added pressure. “Fuck, yes. That’s it, Arthur. Right there. God that feels so good. I’ve never been fucked senseless before. Between last night and this morning, I barely know my name anymore.”

“Food can be arranged.” I rocked my hips upward and swirled my thumb around her clit. “As soon as you come again.”

“You’re such a dick, Arthur.” She laughed when I shifted our positions, sitting up and wrapping my lips around her nipple. “Keep doing that and I’ll forgive you.”

Hannah was not like most women. I’d slept with only a handful, but none like her. She gave of herself freely and without holding back an ounce of her passion. When she came, it was with a wild bucking of her hips that demanded I join her. I answered with one final thrust that threw me over the edge.

Hope I’d long since eliminated from my life dared to flourish in the drought of my heart. My daughter Megan hated me. Maybe this time things would be different. I would be different. I’d make sure these babies knew that I loved them. I’d tell them every day if it kept them from suffering the same fate as Megan with her spite and refusal to see me.

Hannah snuggled in beside me, her leg draped over mine. Ryland spooned her from behind.

We lay in bed talking about babies and all the highs and lows of pregnancy. Uncertainty twisted deep as I twirled a strand of Hannah’s hair around my pinky finger. “How far along are you?”

Her hand on my chest twitched. Slowly, she raised up onto one elbow and hovered over me. “Almost four months.”

Pain blasted through my heart and spiraled out of control. “How long have you known?”

She winced at the bite in my voice but held her ground. “Since I was about eight weeks along.”

“And you hid it from us that long?” The obviousness of the statement brought all of us to an upright position. “Why?” I’d promised myself I wouldn’t fall in the same trap as I did in my first marriage. That meant asking questions and confronting problems the moment they arose instead of waiting and hoping they disappeared.

Hannah tucked her hair behind her ear and returned her hand to my chest. There was comfort in the touch. I tried to accept it, along with the glimpse of pain in her eyes. “Well,” tears stained her cheeks as she cleared her throat and looked away. “At first, I was worried that one of you could be my dad.”

The knot of nausea in my stomach curled tighter. “Another reason you should have brought this to us right away.”

“It’s not that simple for me.” The blush of shame turned red with anger. “Last time I told someone I was pregnant, they left me.”

“So you did not trust us.” I struggled to see the situation from her point of view. Yes, Chad left her. If she knew we were different from that asshat, why withhold the information? “You expected us to throw you aside?”

“No.” She shook her head so hard her hair whipped around. “It wasn’t that. I mean, yes, I was concerned. None of you talked about kids. You love Liddy, but that’s different.”

“Not to me.” Scott interjected with a loud bang of his fist on the headboard.

Hannah’s small grin eased the conflicting emotions rioting inside me. “Once I knew that none of you could be my dad and the baby wasn’t going to be born from incest, I tried to tell myself you’d be happy about it.”

“But that was weeks ago.” I scooted further up the bed and let the sheet pool in my lap.

We all remained naked, comfortable enough with each other to continue the conversation despite our unclothed state.

Her chin dipped toward her chest, dragging my attention to the swell of her breasts and the tiny baby bump. She’d hardly changed in the three months of pregnancy, even with two babies in her belly. “I told myself you were nothing like Chad. You’re all decent, honest men. But I worried you’d think I did it on purpose to try and trap you into an obligation of child support or something.”

“That’s not all.” Ryland, the most sensitive of our trio, stroked her bare shoulder. “Get it all out now, Hannah. Letting it fester will only cause more problems later.”

Her sharp look in his direction held a warning and a challenge. “I was afraid you’d take the baby from me.”

Of all the things she could have said, that shocked me more than anything else. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means you’re rich. You have lawyers at your fingertips. All it would take is a phone call and you’d have me declared unfit. One phone call and children’s services would be at my doorstep. Not only could you take the babies from me, but I’d also risk losing Liddy. You’ve seen my house.” Words poured from her, her voice rising with intensity the longer she spoke. “I’m a good mom. You said it yourself. But a judge might not see it that way, especially when they realize my children’s fathers could give them more than I ever dreamed possible.”

“We would never.” I promised her with every fiber of my being. “Never. Ever. You have my most solemn oath on that. No matter what happens between any of us, they will always be your children too.” She’d found the courage to tell us the whole truth. I appreciated her candor and willingness to be vulnerable. I opened my arms and she fell into them, tucking her head beneath my chin.

Love unlike anything I’d felt before overwhelmed me. I tightened my hold.

The bedroom door flew open with a bang. My daughter Megan froze on the threshold. The door hit the wall and bounced back. Megan threw up a hand to stop it before it crashed into her face. “What the fuck, Dad.” Disgust etched darkness into her face. “Scott? And Ryland?” Her head moved side to side like she hoped to shake the image from her mind.

“Megan? What are you doing here?” I almost released Hannah, but what was the point?

“What am I doing here?” She took another step into the room and stopped. “What am I doing here?” Her voice reached ear-piercing levels. “You invited me, remember? You asked me to come here for Christmas.”

Yes, and she’d refused. Vehemently. With lots of cursing and hell no’s and a host of other obscenities I’d forgotten.

I took in the scene from her perspective. Ryland, Scott, and myself naked in bed with Hannah. Ultrasound photos littered the side table. The pacifier, bottle, and blocks sat in a place of honor on the headboard. The sheets were rumpled and the room smelled like sex. Hannah burrowed in closer to my side and tried to cover herself with the sheet. Scott had it tucked beneath his hips and he yanked a portion free to cover all of us with a flip of his wrist.

“I’m scarred for life. As if it wasn’t fucking bad enough already, I had to walk in and find you in bed with them.” She flapped her hand toward Ryland and Scott. “So are you gay, trans, bi? What’s the deal?” Both hands lifted in front of her face. “You know what, never mind. I don’t care.”

“It’s not like that, Megan.” I refused to relinquish my hold on Hannah. I’d learned enough to understand she’d take that as rejection.

“Is this why you left Mom?” Megan started to turn away but wheeled back and slammed her hands on her hips. For all her talk about being scarred at the sight of us, she sure didn’t seem to mind blasting her thoughts while we remained trapped in the bed. “Were we too boring of a family lifestyle for you? You always claimed you were a traditionalist.” A loud snort echoed through the room. With one last scowl and a toss of her hair, she ran out the door.

Hannah pushed against my ribs. “Go. Talk to her.”

“She won’t listen.”

“Doesn’t matter. You have to try, Arthur. Don’t you dare let her leave thinking she wasn’t a good enough daughter. That’s what’s going through her head right now. I know because it’s what would be in mine. Now go.” She practically kicked me from the bed.

My heart broke for Megan. She’d finally accepted my invitation and I’d ruined everything. Same old Arthur. Would I never get it right? I yanked on my pants and threw a shirt over my shoulders. Walking and zipping at the same time, I made it to the door only to be greeted by the sound of Megan’s boots pounding her way down the steps, her curses blasting throughout the house. I hoped Deena kept Liddy out of hearing range. I pushed that problem aside and focused on my enraged daughter.

“Megan, wait.”

“No, Dad.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and glared up at me. “There’s nothing you can say that will make this better. You chose someone else. A lot of someone else’s apparently.”

“I didn’t leave your mother.” I shot the words at her. I’d never said them before, choosing to always let my ex tell whatever story she chose. I’d hoped Megan would see through the lies, but since she was never allowed to spend time with me, her entire life was built on dishonesty. I risked a step forward but stopped when Megan retreated. “Please, stay. You are not required to talk to me. You can stay as far away as the house allows, but please, please stay.”

I’d done what I thought was right for her and her mother at the time. I knew better now, but nothing about my newfound knowledge could take back the years and give me back my daughter. I’d have to work for it. I was willing, but first I had to get her to talk to me.