She automatically pulls her legs up when she gets flat. Her feet flat on the floor and knees bent and
opening wide, I assume it’s the birthing position of women and not how she casually lounges around
the house.
Her long dress is hanging to her ankles, and she is already panting again like an overheated dog.
Another wave of panic hits me in the gut and I shuffle myself to her feet on my knees, shaking like a
leaf and unsure how this is will go down. My eyes keep flicking to the hall, and every noise, making me
pray for Jake.
For the love of all that is holy.
“You need to get them off, and my shoes.... If this is happening, then I want them off.” Emma frowns at
me from her position, lifting her head up enough to see me over her knees, and I can see how badly
she is clutching at the leg of a nearby chair. Squeezing the shit out of the chrome and I just thank my
stars it’s not my hand. She could clearly crush every bone in my little dainty digits if she had a grip on
me instead.
Taking a deep breath, I lift the hem of her skirt, push it up to her knees in a bid to see what I am doing,
and lean in to try and get to the waistband of her surprisingly sexy black underwear, that looks
decidedly non-maternal. I curb the urge to sit up and give her a raised brow look, chastising myself that
she is married to Jake, and there is no way in hell she was ever going to dawn maternity wear and
spandex, even when bulging like a whale.
I manage to locate the low waist, turning my head aside to make sure I do not get traumatized with a
view of Emma that even brain bleaching can’t remove, and slide them down and off. Averting my eyes
as I maneuver them over her ankles and throw them aside. Eyes down, unbuckling the straps on her
flat sandals and definitely do not look up to see a full frontal of her lady parts. I seriously would never
be able to look her in the eye ever again if I commit to memory this kind of intimate knowledge.
The clattering noise and chaos of someone falling in the front door have me jerking my head up, sandal
in hand and overjoyed to see Jake skating across the marble floor with an expression of sheer panic
across his face. Arrick in hot pursuit and looking a lot more together, although he is moving just as fast.
Catching the sight of them from my viewpoint, I wave a sandal in the air frantically.
“In here... Kitchen!” I bark as both heads snap my way. An extreme sense of relief that the cavalry has
arrived, and Jake can take over, doing what Jake does. Help his wife bring another baby into this world,
and I can get my ass out from between Emma’s thighs and exposed goblin exit.
Warm calm washes over me as they both head my way, eyes fixed on the scene before them. I
genuinely feel like kissing him right now for getting here this fast and I grin with exhaled glee that he’s
saving us.
Like a sudden violent slap in the face, something hot, wet, and fired with the aggressive speed of a
canon, sloshes me in the chest, neck, and stomach, in a horrifying avalanche moment that makes me
gasp in absolute shock. Bath temperature warm, sticky, and slimy, weird smelling fluid, soaks through
my dress, down my legs and saturates my entire upper body. My neck and face splattered with it and I
gawp in sheer repulsion, gulping, horrified, and unsure how to react at whoever just threw a bucket of
watery goo at me. My hands immobile in midair as I shudder and glare down in absolute disgust.
“Emma? What in the actual fuck was that?” I’m completely immobile, sat stone still with arms splayed
out in sheer disbelief, blinking at her as though she just assaulted me personally.
“My waters broke.” She pants at me, my stomach lurching, and the overwhelming urge to gag as I
realize I just got hit, face on, with her entire body of birthing fluids. The blood drains from me as Jake
skids down behind me and slides me over, uncaring about the fact that he is now kneeling in the puddle
where I was, unconcerned with how vile this really is, and I am left to gape in shock. Not sure how to
react at all.
“I’ll get, umm, towels…” Arrick’s eyes wash over me, that hint of equal ‘eww’ that disappears with a
half-smile when he catches me throwing him a hostile glare of ‘don’t you fucking dare’. Arrick takes off
like his ass is on fire and I shuffle backwards on my butt and palms, to give Jake more room.
Emma’s panting has become constant moaning and judging by the crazily white expression on Jake’s
face, the way he’s leaning between her legs and his focus seriously intense, I guess it’s not really going
to wait on us getting a midwife. I mentally wonder if I should call emergency services, but my cell is way
over there on the table and I am literally glued to the floor, by sticky, icky, weird baby gunk.
“I’m here, baby, we got this. We can do this. Look at me Bambino. I’m here. I got you.” Jake is calm
and controlled,; looking at her from his kneeling spot, he leans up and over her, caging her in his arms,
working himself to hold his weight over her carefully and bends down to kiss her on the mouth. Eyes to
hers, nose to nose, and breathing slowly with her, he says something softly under his breath.
Emma calm instantly calms, from rapid panic panting to slow even breaths, as Jake starts breathing in
time with her. He brushes the hair from her face gently, brushes the perspiration settling on her brow
away too and kisses her on the forehead, lingering tenderly. Emma seems to give up all control to him,
sighing and breathing slowly, watching him with a focus that is unbreakable. Jake really seems like he
has this, and all I can do is stare like a useless freak.
When she moans out hard, he scoots back to between her legs, lifts the edge of her dress and shrugs
down to look. Arrick reappears with an armful of towels, a boyish, unsure expression, and the nanny at
his back, who starts flapping.
“Oh, I’ll call the midwife, paramedics.” She blurts out and runs off again, obviously not intending to help.
I catch sight of a couple of housekeepers’ scurry into the hall to peek, and then they run off again.
What good are they?
Arrick slides down beside me, making me aware that this whole time I have been sitting on the floor,
getting a side view of this entire thing, and acting like a weirdo in complete shock. He starts dabbing at
my clothes, rubs a towel across my face, throat, and chin, and brings my focus back to him. I catch the
worried look flicker across his face as he looks from me to them and then back again, and my stomach
lurches.
“Does Jake know what he’s doing?” I whisper impulsively, suddenly terrified about the lack of medical
personnel. Arrick only smiles at me, that crazy ability to go into controlled mode and keep me steady
when he knows I’m freaking out. Just a smile can reel me back in.
“Yeah, he delivered Lucah in the birthing pool they set up last time. He went to like every class known
to mankind on doing this. Trust him, he’s got this.” Arrick seems way too calm, and all I can think about
is ‘fuck that shit without drugs’. It looks horrendous. I never want to experience that kind of pain at all,
ever, ever.
Jake looks like he is managing to keep his shit together, breathing with her, keeping her eyes on him,
and talking to her in soft even tones as he encourages her, and keeps her focused. He looks
unflappable; the CEO who can reel in the control when he needs it and it’s strangely assuring. They
can be so alike at times, Jake and Arry, and I wonder if this is how he would be. If it was his woman, his
baby.
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