Black Chick, White Guy

Chapter 39

Looking back, I can see that he only made things worse. At least Mike had the good sense to shut up -- except to offer that he had only found out yesterday to deflect the blame from himself. He was safe for a little while, anyway. He was really lucky that Lonnie was such a nice guy and helped us out because his butt would’ve been in serious trouble with a few of the other guards right away once they heard the news and figured out that Mike knew, too. Because he was a bodyguard he was expected to know every move Justin made and keep Johnny abreast of any problems. This time, the problem would be me, or rather, my condition.

"… so if you say anything it’s gonna fuck my shit up," Justin’s begging went on. It was actually pretty funny, even with the funny feeling I had going on in my tummy. So funny that, believe it or not, I even stopped eating, just to give you an idea of how serious things were. Lately I didn’t stop eating for anyone and there was an entire feast before me that I wasn’t tossing down my throat. It was a big deal, all right, let me tell you. I mean, think about it. Johnny? Lynn? The rest of the group? I couldn’t take it, wondering how they’d all react and for the first time in awhile I started to feel sick to my stomach.

I held it down for as long as I could – a huge feat because I’d eaten like a freaking pig – but the food wasn’t cooperating with my plan. I guess my going toe to toe against Mike earlier with those buffalo wings wasn’t as funny as it seemed. Anyway, after maybe thirty seconds of holding it in, I was up on my feet revisiting my mad dash to worship the porcelain God, much to my mortification. And as always, Justin was practically racing with me so I couldn’t shut the door and puke up my guts in private.

Some times things get so annoying. I mean things like bodyguards. Don’t think Mike and Lonnie were relaxing in the living room area while all this was going on, either; Mike was right beside Justin while Lonnie, showing a modicum of respect, hovered in the doorway, taking it all in.

Nosy asses, all of them.

That was it, my breaking point. Can’t a woman have any privacy? I remember so clearly that I wished I had a tampon or something to hurl at them so they’d be embarrassed too, but then I remembered Mike and the whole pregnancy test issue and figured he wouldn’t bat an eyelash. The one good thing that came out of all that was that I was so distracted by them that I lost the urge to toss my cookies. And for once I almost wished I hadn’t. Just to be evil.

Still, I thank the Lord for small favors like not throwing up in front of your boyfriend and his nosy friends.

"You okay, honey?" Mike helped pull me up off the floor and I could see that Justin was annoyed that he didn’t think to do it first.

Men.

The absolute last thing I needed at that moment was any male ego or testosterone bugging me, you know? And yes, I know they just wanted to help even though I was really just getting to know all of them, I was sort of aware of that back then but sue me – I was sort of preoccupied with other matters. Hormones were taking over my life and hormones did not like men at that moment,

"Yes, now would you all PLEASE GET OUT OF HERE?" I couldn’t help it; it was rude and hateful but I really couldn’t control myself. Now I’m really ashamed of my behavior but at that time it couldn’t be helped.

Justin chimed in, "Yeah, would you guys give us some privacy please? Like, right now?"

Could someone please tell me how he knew that I wasn’t talking about him? Right now men were all grouped in the same category – pains in the asses. I turned my head to glare at all of them -- including Lonnie who I’d never even dared to frown at before. Mike was so used to me bitching and scowling that he barely paid attention, much more interested in what Lonnie was thinking. I think he was more disappointed at the lack of drama than anything else because he’s so damn nosy. Now that I think about it we should’ve just let them stay and saved ourselves the trouble of telling it to them later – which we would – because they ended up knowing everything that went on in my life anyway.

And I mean EVERYTHING.

Thankfully, after a few more minutes of Justin ranting about sanctity and privacy and God knows what else, they slowly backed out, gathered their food and left, at last. While they headed out I stood up and started trying to calm my breathing and feel human again. I was splashing some cold water on my face when Justin returned. Big surprise, right? If he cares about something he’ll obsess over it and need to know every little thing that goes on. I guess I was the thing he was using during this stage of nosiness.

"You okay?" I swear to God…

"If one more person asks me that I’ll kill them. Kill them!" I swear it!" I declared loudly to a clearly rattled Justin. It crossed my mind how much I was beginning to pick up his bad habits – like screaming at people and throwing tantrums – and I didn’t like it one bit. "Shit!"

"What’s wrong, baby?" He came to stand next to me and I gave him a look in the mirror that said, ‘What do you think is wrong?’

He got the picture and reached over to stroke my cheek, he tried again. "I’m sorry about what happened baby, but … I mean, shit, people are gonna … never mind," he said tiredly, which made me feel awful. He had just as much – if not more – to worry about than I did. Millions of dollars and a passion for music were at stake for him.

"No," I replied half-turning so I could wrap my arms around his waist. He needed comfort and reassurance as much as I did. "It’s okay, I mean, I know what you’re saying. We have to decide. I know it, I do … it’s just—"

"You don’t want things to change," he finished the sentence for me, holding me so very tightly as we regarded each other in the mirror.

"Right," I nodded then laid my head on his chest.

"But they’re already changing. You do see that, don’t you?" I remember how gentle and careful he was with me that evening. It made me fall even deeper in love with him.

And he was right, things had already changed -- like my recent absence of sanity for instance – and I needed to get over myself and talk with him about it. So I answered his question. "Yeah, I know it. We have to … make a decision and I know I’m the one who keeps putting it off," I said pitifully. A lot of times I pretended to be feeling pitiful because Justin was such a sucker that he always fell for it. I wasn’t kidding around then, though.

He kissed my cheek softly. "Well … do you have any idea what you might want to do?" he asked very carefully. "I keep asking you and you avoid the topic, babe … and I’m trying to be patient here, but I’m getting frustrated! I love you so much, baby, and I don’t like how our relationship is now all… strained, or whatever. You get what I’m saying?"

I did. We needed to get this talk started because it was way past due – and it was all due to my fault, of course. "I know," I sighed and snuggled deeper into his neck, closing my eyes before I took a big bite out of it. God I loved his neck. I loved it like nothing else. But anyway. "Tell me what you want." Yes, I chickened out again and tried to make him decide. I’m a loser, I know it.

He sighed impatiently and I knew he was onto me. When wasn’t he onto me? Before I dated him I considered myself to be pretty sharp and sneaky but he had me beat by about ten miles in the sneaky department.

"It’s … your body, T, not mine. I can’t … I don’t know how to make a decision like this. I can’t do it by myself."

"But it’s not like it’s the final decision, right?" I argued back. "It’s just what you’re thinking or wanting, and then we can mesh our ideas and … figure out something. I need to know what you want, too. It’s only you telling me what you think or want and then I tell you. See?"

"No, I don’t see. You’re still going first," he replied stubbornly and I just sighed. I knew he would do that. I’d been expecting this moment but I wasn’t as prepared as I thought I was. Going first was hard because my decision changed practically every second. But I was always honest with Justin and so I decided to give in and go first. He deserved it after everything that had been going on.

I was still terrified, though.

"Okay," I said slowly, clinging to his waist like it was a lifesaver or something. "But can we go into the living room or somewhere out of here? Life is bad enough already; I refuse to lose what little bit of self-respect that I have. I don’t want to make a life-changing decision while sitting next to a toilet."

That was fair. Who would want to make a big decision like that next to a commode?

"Sure, sweetie," he replied easily, then did something that surprised me – he turned around and crouched down.

I wondered if I’d missed something – or maybe I’d finally drive in him insane?

"Justin?"

"What’s up baby?"

"Umm … what’re you doing?" Surely he didn’t want me to…

"Climb on," he instructed me and confirmed my worst fear. I’d kill him, as fat as I was getting, "I’m giving you a piggyback ride into the bedroom."

Did he not realize that I’d gained a few pounds and wasn’t exactly svelte? "I’m too fat, Ju—"

He gave me exactly one look to stop my weight tirade before it kicked into high gear and it worked. Justin could be sort of scary sometimes, mostly because he knew me so well and could look at me before I started ranting about something and know what it was. He refused to listen to me ever say anything negative about myself.

Even through the rough times, I’ve always appreciated how he never saw me as anything other than perfect, no matter how nappy my hair was or how bloated my stomach got. He always said I was 100% gorgeous to him at all times and call me naïve but I grew to believe that to him, those things were true.

I still knew I was getting fat but if he wanted to risk his back, who was I to argue? "Okay, just don’t start complaining tomorrow when—"

"Yeah, yeah," he waved a dismissive hand in my direction and sang out to me, "’Heard it all before’," he sang the song that was out. C’mon."

I climbed on, secretly loving how he was treating me but I still gave him a well-deserved pinch on his butt for being so obnoxious and was rewarded with a yelp. We lumbered into the bedroom and it looked like maybe I wouldn’t kill him after all. "Don’t yell at me," he warned me as we neared the bed, "but I want to know … is your stomach feeling alright now?"

Growling into his hair, I answered dramatically. "I’m fine. Everything’s fine, okay? All nausea is gone and I’m fine. If anything feels weird, I’ll wake you up right away, or I’ll even yell for Mike. Is that good enough?"

He cackled to himself and I wondered why. A few seconds later I knew why because I was being swung around in the air like a pillow or something, then tossed into the center of our now standard Heavenly Bed. I wanted to yell but he looked so adorable, standing at the foot of the bed smirking at me. "Yeah, that’s all good enough. Thanks, T," he grinned evilly and I stuck my tongue out at him. He wanted to play games? I had games for days.

"Anytime," I responded as I climbed onto my knees and pulled off my T-shirt, then started on my jeans. Glazed eyes and a leer immediately replaced his grin, which was exactly what I wanted. "Can you pull these off for me?" I gestured for him to tug my jeans down from around my ankles and he went right to work, tossing them on the floor before beginning to shed his clothing, too. "Hey, hold up there!"

"What?" His hands paused at the zipper to his jeans – his shirt had already miraculously been discarded.

I waved my hand at him and his clothes. "This ain’t no sex thing, remember? We’re supposed to be having a serous talk, Justin. So take your mind right out of the direction it’s going in," I said smugly. I knew he wouldn’t listen to me but sometimes it’s fun just to annoy him.

He raised one eyebrow at me, something he did when he thought I was behaving particularly silly. "So you get to sit around in your underwear while we have a ‘serious discussion’", he made quotation marks with his fingers when he said that, "and I have to stay dressed?" Why he even bothered asking I don’t know, because he continued undressing until he was down to his boxer-briefs. I had a hard time remembering what we were arguing about or discussing or whatever, looking at his body. He was so beautiful.

I shrugged, dragging my gaze away from his midsection. "Whatever. Do what you want. Just remember we’re talking seriously here and we don’t need to re-enact what got us into this predicament, okay?" I’m so full of shit sometimes. It was way too late to be worrying about birth control and the like.

He hopped up on the bed beside me and sat down Indian style, all serious. "Okay … so let’s just do this -- have it out, get it out into the open. It’s your turn, T, you go first. For real, be serious this time and don’t try to distract me either," he looked pointedly at how I was leaning up on my elbows showing some serious cleavage and I knew I was busted.

So here it was -- the big moment, the big talk, the make or break of J&T forever. One way or another things were going to be different and despite my joking around I was truly scared. "I … I don’t know what I want," I finally said after a minute or so of silence. "I mean, one minute I feel like yeah, I want to have a baby. I would love to have your baby, Justin," I looked at him meaningfully. "Sometimes I think that’s what I’m born to do, because we love each other so much, whether you want it or not. Why would it be wrong? Money’s not a problem; the only problem is your career. And your mom. And Johnny and the guys… I could go on forever! Am I making sense?"

He nodded slowly, reaching out and taking my hand. "Yeah. You’re making a lot of sense, but the thing is … I don’t want us to make a decision based on ‘N Sync. There might not even be an ‘N Sync pretty soon if Lou has his way, you know?"

I sighed and shifted so I was sitting next to him, my head on his shoulder. He meant well but he was so freaking … well, so naïve at times. "We can’t pretend like they’re not factors though, because they’re huge ones. It all … everything goes back to changes – changes in your career and in my life – even the other guys’ life. If we do this, your lifestyle will change and that includes your career, something you love more than anything else. "

He shook his head. "I do love my career but my career and you are, like, on opposite ends of the spectrum. I’m not gonna let ‘N Sync dictate how my personal life goes. You know that. I love performing, yeah, but not at the expense of losing you or my family. One has nothing to do with the other, as far as I’m concerned."

I did know that. He worked hard to keep his personal and public lives separate but this was one time where he couldn’t do it. This was totally different. I shook my head at him. "You can’t separate them, Justin. How’s it going to look if you have a baby out of wedlock with a black woman who’s five years older than you? Or what if we got married, what would happen then? I mean, do you even want to get married? What do you want?"

He bit his bottom lip and thought for a few minutes, and I held my breath the entire time, scared of what he was going to say – whatever way he wanted to go would scare me. "I want you," he said quietly, looking deep into my eyes. "I want my princess, my Tara. I want all of you."

This was even more frustrating that not talking about it. "You’re not answering the question!" I was frustrated by the whole thing and wanted to just put it away and hide and let someone else solve it.

"Yes, I am," he pulled his hand away from mine and placed it on my stomach. "I want all of you – all of you, T. I want us to try … this. I don’t know about details or anything but you’re having my baby. My baby. Do you realize what that means? It’s a gift from God and we can’t ignore that, and we can’t ignore the fact that we’re crazy about each other. We can’t not do this, you know? It’s … it’s like a part of us and we can’t not have it. I’ve been thinking and thinking about this and I think that this decision is right, meant to be. I don’t give a fuck what anyone says, we need to do this. I love you, you love me, and I know we can do this, baby. Don’t you think we can?"

His eyes were so innocent, but so sure. So certain that we could be parents and do okay. Still be in love and happy. Still have great, happy lives. I wanted to believe him so bad. Justin always seemed to know what to do when it came to me or our relationship; I didn’t want to doubt him because in fact, part of me felt the same way. I wanted to have his baby so bad that my heart hurt thinking about it.

Looking into his eyes, I slowly began to believe him. Maybe we could do this somehow; we’d been dating for months and no one knew who I was – if I stayed under the radar and kept quiet. Maybe we could pull it off.

Maybe.

Slowly, my doubts were being erased when I looked and at him and listened to him. If he wanted to do it, if he thought we could pull this off with his own career issues, who was I to doubt him?

"T … What’re you thinking? Let me in…" His eyes were still boring into mine and I almost felt dizzy with love for him. I didn’t realize at the time how long I’d been thinking about the risks of having a baby with him. Thinking about a chubby, happy baby with his eyes and my nose – he’d have to have my nose because as much as I love him, his noise was a honker. But I loved every millimeter of it. Then I realized he was waiting for a response and had to return my min to the predicament at hand.

"Umm … I guess I’m thinking the same thing that I was before, you know? Scared and worried that it’ll ruin your life. But … then I think maybe we could try … at least maybe we could tell your mom or Johnny and see what their reaction is. Then," I sighed, "then maybe we’d know how bad it could be."

"Or how good," he pointed out, pulling me to him so my head was on his shoulder, tucked into the hollow of his neck. "Think about how good it could be, like, us having our own baby to raise. We could move to Tennessee if you want so my grandparents and Momma can help you or even stay in Florida if you want. Shit, I don’t care if we stay in Maryland, baby. We could live anywhere as long as we’re together. Everything’s always perfect when we’re together, remember? When we’re together, nothing can go wrong. Look at the past month or whatever. We belong together, T. Wherever we are or whatever we’re doing, we belong together. We belong together," he repeated emphatically and silently I agreed with him. I couldn’t be without him anymore; he was as much a part of my life as I was.

All that talking was a way for him to try to ease my fear and it worked. For an eighteen years old he’s pretty savvy and he had me almost believing we’d have a fantasy world. Listening to him daydream about the baby like I’d been secretly doing, maybe a little girl or little boy with pretty brown skin and curly hair, hearing him talk about us living together for real, in our own space, all of it made me forget my fears. Like I said before, if he wasn’t scared why should I be?

I had to ask him, though. "Aren’t you even a little bit worried?" I mumbled into his neck, safe and secure in his arms. "Don’t you wonder about what everyone is going to say, or how this affects the group?"

I felt him take a deep breath before he answered. "Hell yeah, I’m worried. I never thought anything like this could happen to me this soon but it has and so I’m just dealing with it. Besides, the group is the group; we’re tight and we should be able to work past this. That’s if we decide to go public with this or private. I don’t know what’s gonna happen next but I can honestly say that it’s not like I never thought about us having a baby or getting married, you know?"

"But not this soon," I interrupted.

I felt him shake his head. "No, not this soon. I know you weren’t thinking about it, either. It just happened, you know, and you already know I think everything happen for a reason. And all the reasons we have for not having it are selfish, especially when we have money and each other and support. Because no matter how they react at first, you know my family is going to be with us every step of the way, helping us any way they can. You do know that right?"

It had been one of my biggest worries, how his family would react. But I knew he was right – after the initial shock, Lynn and Paul and everyone else would adore the baby just like they adored Justin. I just wondered how they’d treat me. This could possibly end his career and I didn’t want to be blamed for it. It’s never just one person’s fault, accidentally getting pregnant, but I felt like the irresponsible one here. I was older and he was so very young, I should’ve known better. I should’ve questioned the doctor about my birth control and not taken any risks like having sex in a freaking hospital bed.

But he wasn’t a child anymore; we’d both caused my problem, or ‘condition’ as he liked to refer to it. And lately he seemed more like the adult than I did because he was very clear and determined about what he wanted to do. I only wondered if he was really aware of what would come along with us having a baby.

"Yes, I know that," I answered slowly. "I know they’ll be there with us. I just…" I let my words trail off because I didn’t want to say them. I hated even thinking them, to be honest.

"Just what?" He pulled his head back to get a better look at me. "What?"

"Nothing, really," I lied, closing my eyes and pushing my face closer to his skin. I liked being close enough to feel his heartbeat. "It’s nothing."

But he pulled my head up, knowing I was lying. "Yes it is … you think they’re gonna blame you, don’t you?"

I really hated that he knew me so well sometimes. "A little … I just feel like I should’ve been more careful, you know? I know it was all a mistake and no one’s really responsible but then I feel like, I’m older. I should know about things like mixing medicines, right? My dad was a doctor, for crying out loud. I just … I should’ve known. And I didn’t know so I feel stupid, and I don’t want to mess up your career. You have the new album and the lawsuit and all these things coming up and now you have to deal with this on top of everything else? It’s not fair and I feel like I could’ve stopped it if I didn’t have my head in the clouds. I mean, I hate thinking of a baby as a mistake or an accident but it is and I wonder if we’re really ready for something like this. It’s not a commitment to each other, not at this point. It’s a commitment to the baby, a commitment for the rest of our lives, Justin. Forever. And then we have to think about where to live, all that other stuff … it’s scary and it’s hard and I—"

Once again I was rambling and he cut me off. "Slow down, baby," he rubbed my back soothingly. "First of all, you keep reminding yourself that this wasn’t a mistake or an accident. Everything happens for a reason, right?" I nodded slowly, still clinging to him like a vine. "Second of all, both of us participated in what happened – it’s not your fault or my fault. It’s something that happened and it’s a good thing. T," he pulled my face up again to look at me closely as he said those words that I longed to hear the time. "Nothing bad can come from us loving each other. Nothing. Somehow we met and things just fell into place and that’s a good thing. So is this baby," he rubbed my stomach. "Our baby. My little princess or tiny homeboy."

I had to laugh at that. Knowing him he would have a baby boy running around in the latest hip-hop gear, and I knew the girl would be walking around in pink and white with something like a parasol all the time, dainty and spoiled. "I’m sorry but my baby is not going to be called a homeboy," I corrected him, still laughing.

He sort of pushed me back slowly so I was lying on my back and he was next to me, one hand propping up his head. "We’re definitely gonna have a boy. He’s gonna be my best friend, T. Once you get done breast-feeding or whatever, I’ll take over," he boasted. "I gotta toughen him up, teach him how to be a man, fight and shit."

I wanted to ask him so badly who taught him how to fight, since he was constantly surrounded by bodyguards, but whatever. "You’re not turning my baby into some little wannabe thug," I declared, reaching over to rub his cheek. "But whatever we have, it’s mine until … until I say so. Until it can’t be corrupted by you."

He laughed at my response and sort of moved down the bed to where my stomach was. "It’s mine, too … I corrupted you and you like it … don’t I get some say in what happens?" He ran his hands over my stomach again and I shivered at his touch. "

"Maybe," I said softly, running my hands through his now dark, curly hair. "We’ll see how it goes. But I’m the mommy so I’m running things right now."

Mommy. Wow. I’d never thought about that before. His kisses began to wander lower and lower until he reached my panties. I closed my eyes and let him slip them off, then his hands slid between my thighs and began stroking softly. "You see, baby? See how perfect we are? See how good I make you feel? It’s not like this with anyone else, is it?"

"No," I replied softly, my hands still tangled in his thick curls. "No one else…"

"Tell me," he continued, and I opened my eyes to see what he was doing. He was engrossed in his work, concentrating on me like I was a special, fragile piece of art. It turned me on even more and I gazed down at him watching his hands do their magic.

"No one … makes me feel like this … whenever you touch me, it … drives me crazy," I whispered between little gasps of air. "You … make me feel so sexy with just a look … I never want anyone but you touching me … Ever…"

His fingers increased their pressure, moving faster to bring me to that edge that I craved so much. Slipping over me, he rubbed until my body was as tense as a rubber band. "You sure? Nobody?"

Why do men always have to bring ego into things? Still, annoying as it was, I played right along.

"Yes," I answered breathlessly. "Nobody … I love you, sweetie. Only you."

He smiled, still watching his hands intently. "I love you too," he answered. "Only you, baby." And with that, he leaned over to cover me with his mouth, his tongue licking and sucking me while I writhed with pleasure. My hands pulled on his hair now, as my hips reacted and lifted so I could be as close to him as possible. "Mmmm," he moaned against me, and my body began to shake like there was an earthquake. As soon as he felt that, his lips clamped down around me and sucked even harder.

And that was all she wrote, because the second he did that I was gone, lost in mindless ecstasy. The teasing, the touching, the talking, all of it combined made me crazy with lust for him. I’d just said no one made me feel like did and I hadn’t lied, either; he had some special knowledge of how to make me weak. He continued loving me with his mouth but not quite as hard now, gently bringing me back to earth from my time in heaven. I just lay there, concentrating on catching my breath and felt him get up from the bed. I heard water running from where he disappeared into the bathroom and I knew he was washing his face. He re-entered the bedroom looking very satisfied with himself and I didn’t even care. As far as I was concerned, he’d earned that look and I wanted to give him the pleasure he’d give me.

It was hard, but I managed to drag myself up onto my knees and give him ‘the look’. ‘The look’ was something we gave to each other when we wanted to ravage each other completely and even though he’d just ravaged me, I could see he still had the same look in his eyes.

Not that I minded.

Reaching behind me, I unclasped my bra and tossed it across the room, then beckoned for him to come back to bed. I didn’t have to ask twice – he hurriedly took off his boxer-briefs and came right over to me.

"Lay down," I told him in a sultry voice that I have no idea where it came from. He complied, stretching out next to me so I was kneeling at his side. "Do you know how much I love you?" I asked, lightly touching his face and hair, then moving to his neck where I couldn’t hold out any longer – I bent over to lick and suck on the taut flesh, giving him about a thousand hickeys – not that he minded. Reluctantly I drew away from his neck to see him lying with his eyes closed, breathing heavily. But not heavily enough for me. I wanted to drive him crazy with lust.

"Do you?" I asked again, since he never answered the first time. "You talk to me, sweetie. Tell me how you feel."

It was only fair.

"Yes," he breathed, opening his eyes a crack to make eye contact. "You … love me as … much as I love you, which is like … I dunno … can’t be measured. I can’t do anything without you."

I smiled to myself, loving the words he said to me, even through the haze of passion. I knew they were true, even if he was hard as a rock. "I can’t do anything without you either," I continued in my sultry voice that I’d channeled from somewhere. "You’re a part of me now and I don’t think I can live without you." As I responded to his pledge, I began to lightly run my hands over his chest and stomach, grazing his nipples as I stroked back and forth. "Does this feel good? Is it okay?

He groaned and closed his dark, midnight blue eyes. "Fuck yeah … it feels incredible, baby, and you know that shit, that’s why you’re doing it." I smiled again still rubbing his front as I slowly made my way lower and lower. "Especially when you tickle me with your hair … it makes me want to flip you over and fuck you right now. Don’t you want me inside of you, baby?" Just after that he unexpectedly lifted his head up and took one of my nipples in his mouth then alternated with the other breast, making me want to stop playing this little game and get down to business. But I’d had this idea since he went into the bathroom and I didn’t want to stop – it felt too good, taking the long, strange trip to ecstasy. And I knew we’d get there, we always did.

"Oh yes," I half-whispered, half-moaned as his bristly cheek grazed my breasts. "But we can take the long way or the short way. Which do you want?" To me, this was all about what he wanted. Sort of a payback for all the drama I’d been putting him through. The choice wasn’t a big deal; we’d do it fast and then do it again over and over or we’d do it slow and do it over and over that way, too. I sort of wanted to see how long both of us could hold out.

"I want you so much," he told me again, his voice as soft as mine. "Every part of you, not just for sex. I love you; I love your body; I love what’s inside your body; I love when I’m inside of you. I want to make you feel incredible, baby … don’t you want to feel good like I made you earlier?"

Umm, hell yeah! "That’s gonna come no matter how we do it," I stretched a little and watched his eyes go right to my breasts. One good this to come out of this was that my butt and breasts seemed to be growing bigger and rounder. I’d seen him gazing at them when he thought I wasn’t looking so I took advantage of it. "So why not take our time?"

He was gazing at me with a mixture of lust and awe: lust because I was being so sexual and awe because I was being so crazy. Justin almost always initiated lovemaking between us, at least in an overt way. If I was to have some fun, all I needed to do was switch my ass a little, kiss him or something and he’d be all over me. This time, I was the one sort of taking over and even though I thought I’d be shy. I seemed to slip right into the role.

"Let’s do what ever you want," he whispered, still somewhat in awe. "How do you want it, fast or slow? Want me to make love to you hard and fast so we’re all sweaty and shit after? Or you want me to move in and out real slow so it takes forever to get what you want? You can always have me anyway you want it, baby." Then he stopped and thought for a moment. "Hey, T?"

"Hmmm?" I was busy kissing a path down his chest to his stomach, letting my hair tickle him along my journey while I replayed what he’d just said about which way to have sex. I seriously didn’t have a preference as long as it was him doing it to me,

"Is it safe? To do this with you … you know?" All this time we’d been screwing our brains out and all of a sudden he wanted to know if it was possibly dangerous? I wanted to laugh but I didn’t.

Looking up at him I smiled, trying not to laugh at his very real fear. "Sweetie, I’m fine and God knows if we weren’t supposed to be doing this we’d have found out by now. Don’t you think? Besides my dad and I didn’t talk about this sort of stuff but we watched TV shows of gory medical crap and I’m positive that it’s safe until, like, the last month or something. So relax, okay? Let’s just release," I paused as I kissed lower and lower, "some," I continued my downward trail, "tension, sweetie."

Needless to say, I got no argument from him. He lay back on the pillows, closed his eyes and sighed. It was obvious what I was going to do but he wasn’t ever really crazy about it, thinking it was disrespectful to the woman he loved. That night, though, he didn’t give a damn – sometimes lust overcame his chivalrous attitude. He relaxed as I kissed my way around his groin and then skipped down to his inner thighs, kissing every inch. After about five minutes, his erection look painful so I grasped it carefully with one of my hands, stroking him in a smooth, slow motion that had him panting. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so turned on – not before or since, although maybe once or twice I did – but that night he was going out of his mind.

For awhile I just ran my hand up and down his erection, letting my hair tickle his inner thighs and everything else. He loved it, gasping and breathing hard, which made me love it, too. It made me realize the power I had over him, power that I’d previously thought he wielded. Yeah, I was in control, for sure, especially when I leaned down and took him in my mouth in one smooth motion. Where I got the skills or the ideas are beyond me; maybe it’s something instinctual that every woman knows. Wherever I got it from, it was a good thing to know or do and he didn’t have to tell me that.

I’m not crazy about giving oral sex, just because. I’d only done it with Dave before, who seemed to like just about every dumb thing I did. It was always something we did occasionally when he wanted it, but doing it to Justin made me feel sexier, more turned on, more womanly. In sum, it was pretty awesome. His hips jerked and his hands clutched my hair, pulling but not pulling too hard. Over and over he called my name, telling me how good it felt and how much he loved me. I’m pretty sure most guys say things like that but the love part I knew was true and it made me work that much harder to give him pleasure. So there I was, crouched over him trying to him the same explosive orgasm he gave to me when he stopped.

"Baby … T, c’mere. Come here with me," he reached down and held out his arms for me. Whenever I tried to do that he acted all weird and it was giving me a complex or something, you know? Every guy likes that, I mean it’s the #1 thing guys seem to get off on, other than seeing two girls together – which was never going to happen except in his dreams. So when my boyfriend practically had a coronary whenever I tried to do that, of course I got a little sensitive.

What’d I do now? I wasn’t the most experienced person in the world, but geez! "What? What’s wrong now? You like this, Justin, I heard you!" I told him, getting angry, sitting back on my heels and glaring at him, despite how sexy he looked. "You always say I do it right and then the very next time you stop me! What am I doing wrong?" Couldn’t have been much that I was doing wrong, the way he moaned and groaned.

Wait. Did I hurt him?

"T, no, it’s not—"

I covered my face with my hands, ready to die of embarrassment. "Dee I hsdjks sdklu?" I asked through my hands, ready to crawl under the covers and die. Those mumbled words were ‘did I hurt you’, by the way.

"What? Would you move your hands, I can’t hear a fucking thing you’re saying," he tried to pry my hands away to no avail. Justin’s strong but when you’re experiencing moments of embarrassment, you can attain super human strength. Just ask Britney after Justin announced he was going on tour with her archrival, I bet she could show you depths like you’ve never seen.

"Leef mee alone," I muttered through my hair, which I had discovered was trapped between my hands and my mouth. Way to be sexy, Tara. But he overcame my (briefly) strong hands and pulled them away. I was ready to burst into tears at the humiliation of it all. Why wouldn’t he leave me alone like I asked? I know I was naked, but still. A request from your girlfriend and baby’s momma is an important request.

"Would you cut that out? Tara," he sat up and pulled me against his chest where I promptly hid my face. There were no tears but I wasn’t counting them out, if you know what I mean. And the whole Tara thing meant I was in for a lecture.

I answered him nastily. "What?"

He sort of chuckled to himself in that guy way when they think you’re PMS’ing or something, Asshole. My out of control hormones were his entire fault.

"I didn’t stop you because I didn’t like it – you know I like it. I know I was weird at first but you told me that whatever we do is, like, an _expression of love or whatever. So I’ve gotten over that and you know that. It’s not like we haven’t done it more than once – a lot more than once," he reminded me and I felt a little better. A little.

"Well then why do you always stop me?" I wailed, ready to let the tears spill over. His arms tightened around me and he rubbed my back soothingly.

He cleared his throat and I knew it was because our bodies were pressed so closed together that he was getting turned on. Well, too fucking bad. "I was loving what you were doing but when we started to make love this time, I wanted it to be intimate, you know? Us looking into each other’s eyes and whispering I love you. That sort of shit."

I glowered at him. "Then why did you start this whole thing? I didn’t ask for it; regular sex would’ve been just fine! What the hell is wrong with you? If you didn’t want to do that, why’d you start?" I was flipping out and I was just getting started, believe me.

He stroked my hair, probably knowing it would calm me down and soothe me. "When it started with you, I just … I wanted to make you feel good. I love the way you sound when I touch you and lick you, baby. I love your hands in my hair and the growling sounds you make and the way you smell … I could do that forever. It wasn’t planned, it just happened, but I knew I wanted to make love to you tonight. Not fuck, not screw, but make love, and that’s what I did. Sometimes it’s not all about me – I’ll get mine in the end, you know? But knowing your getting yours and then some makes me feel even better. Maybe it’s a guy thing, I don’t know," he finished his speech, leaving me feeling less angry and more enamored.

"Oh," was all I could think of to say. How do you response to words like that? I couldn’t think of any so I leaned over to him and pressed my forehead against his. "Justin?"

"Yeah?" His eyes were boring into mine, just as mine were boring into his.

"I love you," I said, totally sappy and overflowing with this tremendous love for him. "You’re everything I ever wanted but didn’t know I did … I thank God a million times a day for bringing you into my life. You always understand me and try to protect me and even with … sex … you think of me first. I was trying to give some of that back, do you understand that?"

He nodded, moving my head with his. "To me, that’s what real love is. Caring about the other person more than you care for yourself, almost. That’s how I feel about you and the baby," he caressed my stomach. "I want more good things for you and the baby than I do for me. For the first time in my life I’m not worried about my mom all the time or the guys because I have you. And I think…" he paused for a minute and furrowed his brown, "I think sometimes that I really would give up music and shit for you."

"But you don’t have to!" I exclaimed, sitting back. "I don’t want you to ever do that for me! It would make me feel awful, J. Promise me you won’t, no matter what happens. Okay?"

He gave a deep sigh, as if he had heavy things on his mind, which he did. "Okay. I promise, okay? I won’t do anything until I talk to you first. Alright?"

I smiled at him, the brightest smile I’d ever given. "Alright. Good." Then I continued staring until he brought me out of my daze.

"T?"

"Yes?"

"You’re naked, I’m naked, and we’re both sitting here and I don’t know about you but … it hurts. You up to finish this off somehow? Anyhow?

I giggled. I guess after our previous activities, he would be still ready to go.

And as always so was I.

"You bet," I answered pushing him down on the bed and climbing on top of him. "I’m so ready … I want you more than anything right now. Because I love you," I kissed his face, "and because you’re the best boyfriend I’ve ever had in the whole world, and you’re so sexy and sweet and kissable and loveable and huggable…"

I could’ve gone on and on but he grabbed my neck and pulled it down to him, stopping just before our lips met. "Could you tell me all of this later?" he asked, half-joking and half-serious. I was straddling him, rubbing against him but not taking him fully inside of me and he moved a little, reminding me what we were in the middle of.

"Yes," I moaned, loving the feel of him against me. "Enough talking," I decided and moved to take him inside of me fully. Both of us groaned loudly at the feel of it and for a moment we just lay there kissing each other softly, sucking on each other’s lips as we enjoyed that wonderful initial moment when you start to have sex.

Too soon, though, that first moment was over. I wanted this to be my show and I had no intention of letting him take over like he normally did. Grasping the headboard, I sat straight up on him and began moving, fast and furious as they say, not giving him or myself a second to think. His hands reached up for my full breasts and held on for the short and exquisite ride that I gave him. Because he was so close before, I knew it wouldn’t be long before he exploded inside of me. And I didn’t mind. His eyes were locked with mine the entire time, communicating thousands of ‘I love you’s’ as he grew closer to climax. I knew him well enough by now to know when he was close; his breathing changed and he could barely keep his eyes open, so I increased my movement.

It wasn’t about me. I’d already gotten ‘mine’ and I wanted him to have his and have it be as amazing as it could be.

"Are you ready, baby?" I asked, not stopping my hips from moving, in fact, I moved even faster. "Are you ready to come inside of me?"

I could tell my words shocked him even more than my actions, but maybe this was a new part of me. I’d always wanted him to have as much pleasure as mine but he never let met take complete control before. I think it was because he was so horny but whatever the reason, he was content to lay back and let me control things.

"God," he groaned, panting heavily, "yes … yes…" His hands slid from my breasts to grip my hips but not to control them this time. He was holding on, almost limp from pleasure. "I’m … I’m gonna … I’m so close, baby." I could barely hear him; his words were so faint.

I let go of the headboard and brought my face down to his, so close that I could feel his breath. "Let go, sweetie … I want to feel you," I answered, squeezing my walls tight around him.

That was all it too – within seconds the hands on my hips and tightened so much that they almost hurt and his hips were rearing up mine, over and over until I felt that familiar shudder before his body went limp. The whole time I whispered how much I loved him over and over, how good he made me feel… and how I wanted all of him, too.

I got all of him that night. I don’t know if it was the release of tension about that baby or if he just needed me that badly. Whatever it was, it was astounding to watch – his eyes rolled in the back of his head and his body tensed up like never before, then shook with release, eventually falling limp and sweaty around me on the bed. I stroked his hair and forehead as I waited for him to comeback to like.

"Sweetie?"

"Yeah, baby."

"You alright?" It felt weird to ask him that after the whole day but it felt right,

He chuckled softly. "Am I alright?"

"Well … yeah," I was confused. I knew it was sex but it was almost like a little seizure that he’d gone through. "It wasn’t ever like that before," I concluded, and it hadn’t been. Or maybe I’d been so caught up in my own pleasure that I didn’t notice which was a very strong possibility. "You were shaking and stuff… I thought I hurt you."

"Hurt me?" he asked, still chuckling. "Baby," he pulled me down for a quick kiss, "that was quite possibly the best orgasm ever. Where the fuck did you learn to do that?"

I shrugged. "I guess intuition. I don’t know." Inside I prayed and prayed that he wouldn’t bring up Dave and once again, God didn’t hear me.

He seemed to be coming back to life slowly, stretching with his eyes opening wider. "You never did that before so how would you know?" There it was the nosy, overly inquisitive man I’d grown accustomed do. "Who did you do that with before?"

I swear to God, he wouldn’t be satisfied unless he had plucked me from a nunnery. "Justin … please, let’s not get into this now. There’s nothing to tell and I bet if I asked you the same thing I’d be packing my shit right now!"

He had to ruin everything, I swear.

He ran his hand over my back. "Can I just ask one question? One and I’ll let it go?"

Annoyed was not the word to describe how I felt, but I gave him his one question so he’d shut up about it. Okay, one question and that’s it," I informed him, flopping on to my back so that we were lying side by side. Silence filled the room as he decided which question to use. At long last, he was ready.

"Okay … did you ever do that was Dave?"

Why he had this sick obsession with someone I barely talked to anymore was beyond me. Why wouldn’t he just let it die?

"Justin, we just had a romantic evening and made some important decisions about our life and you want to ask about him?"

He sighed. "It’s just important to me that I know. I don’t know why, I mean I don’t want details or anything, but I just … want to know."

I had to dig deeper. "Why? Why do you care about someone I haven’t dated in years?"

"Because he was the closest person to your heart – besides me," he confided. "And that makes me want to know how important he is to you, I guess." He spoke so haltingly and uncertain that I believed him right away.

Taking my own deep sigh, I turned to look him in the eye. "Justin Randall Timberlake, you’re turning some old, long-forgotten dating into the romance of a lifetime. Dave’s still my friend to a certain degree, yes, but I fell out of love with him, if I ever was in love with him, a long, long time ago. He’s nice and sweet and all that good stuff, but we’re friends. Just friends. I told him over two years ago that it wasn’t working and I’ve told you that. As for sex … well, I don’t kiss and tell—"

"Except for Jen and Sasha," he interrupted.

"Okay fine, except for them but just … Dave was adequate. I told you before that more than anything else, he was safe. It was easy to be with him, it just seemed like it was supposed to happen that way. And after awhile I knew I wanted more. I didn’t know what or who, but I knew I didn't want the life that Dave and I were going to have –two car garage, split level home, 3.5 kids … I knew I didn’t want it, at least not with him. Everything was too arranged for me to stop it until one day I couldn’t take it anymore and I told him. It took a long time for him to accept that it was over but I think now he’ll get it," I covered my belly with my hand and he covered mine with his.

"When he met you he was mad and jealous but it wasn’t like I hadn’t dated other people --- it was because it was you. He knew that you did things that made me so happy and he knew he couldn’t ever. Not materialistic thing because I won’t need that and neither does he, but a hug or a smile – those intangible things that define love – when I get them from you, it’s like the 4^{th of July and Christmas. And it hurts, so I try to be his friend – as platonically as possible, keeping a distance – because I know it makes him sad.}

"But believe me when I tell you that no one’s ever touched me like you do. Not physically as in sex, but my heart and my soul. So I think he saw that and was really upset because I was satisfied in a way he would never, ever, make me. Only you make me shiver, only you make me so happy I want to cry or shout from happiness. Only you can make me yours, 100% yours, without saying a word. And sexually …all I can say is that we never, ever, came close to you and me. Never. It like having one scoop of plain vanilla ice cream versus having a huge, elaborate, chocolate sundae with whipped cream, cherries, chocolate sauce … the works. You’re the works for me and I don’t think anyone else could come close. " I paused for a minute. "Is this registering? You’re not talking or anything."

He was silent for a moment more before he rolled on his side to look at me. "I guess … I hate the fact that you were close to anyone before me," he said thoughtfully. "And Dave’s the one to take it out on, I guess. But hearing what you said --- it registered for the first time. I’’m better than him and you know it and he just has to face it," he said cockily and I hit him over the head with a pillow.

"You creep! We’re being serious here," I reminded him

"I am being serious. If you sum up your little talk that’s what it boils down to, right?"

"Competition? That’s what it boils down to?"

He rolled on top of me. "Aww baby … you’re mine. I already know it, but sometimes I get nervous about how you guys are still close. It makes me jealous," He told me, eyes already glued to the ceiling,

"Jealous? Please," I sat up so we were, looking right at one another. "Justin, listen to me – You don’t have any reason to be nervous; I told you before that I only want you and I meant it. Dave’s a nice guy, a great friend, but … he doesn't do it for me anymore. Maybe even before, you know? Dating him was expected and I just went with the flow, relationship-wise. I told you my mother was glad when I finally let him go? H e was nothing more than a security blanket and she knew it. I needed that grand occasion, that big love that takes over your whole body and Dave didn’t do it for me and he never will. There’s nothing there but friendship and he knows it. If he wanted to keep trying, or Britney wants to keep trying then so be it. Like you said, we’re together. We’re in love … nothing bad can happen to us. Right?"

He was so quiet that I thought he’d drifted away somewhere else, but after a minute or so he goi it. "Okay … I see the analogy. But I’d still rather have you away from him," he said stubbornly.

"Well, where would I even see him? He’s in Maryland and I’m all over the place. Ad even if I do see him, it’s like seeing my brother or something," I calmed him down some. Let’s just Dave and Britney disappear out of our heads, okay? Let’s concentrate on something that’ll make u both feel better. Okay?"

Sighing he turned and lay his head on my chest. "Okay … what do you want to talk about? His voice sounded resigned about listening to New Kids on the Block stories, but for once I wanted to talk about our baby.

"The baby,’ I answered. "What do you think we’ll have a boy or a girl? What should we name it? I don’t like calling it ‘it’. Do we want to know the sex before it’s born? When are we telling your parents? I’m terrified, Justin, but if you’re with me I’ll manage. I think. God, I’m so nervous!"

He tried to follow my rambling speech and somehow he managed to get it all down. "Well … I don’t want to know what it is because I like surprises like that; I just want to be ready, like the nursery and shit. But can’t we make it neutral, for either a boy or a girl? And third, we’ll tell my parents the news but if you don’t want to be there, I understand. I can break it to them and let the shock go away. Then we’ll have you talk when you’re ready. How does that sound?"

As I listened I stretched and yawned, not from boredom but from sheer exhaustion. " I guess if I have to do it, that’s the best way. It’s still scary, though."

"Not with me around," he said protectively. "How many times do I have to tell you that I’m gonna take care of you and love you and all that goofy stuff? Because I love you, T. I’ve probably told you that a million times and I can keep doing it. I love you."

My stomach still got queasy whenever he said that; wouldn’t yours, too? When Justin loves, he loves with everything he has. I probably could’ve asked him to buy me a car or a mansion or something and he’d do it. As a matter of fact, I hardly ever had to ask for anything – he already seemed to know what I wanted by being so observant.

Stretching some more because I sill felt good from our lovemaking, I answered, "I know you love me. It’s not anything I ever worry about, sweetie. It’s other people’s reactions that make me worried because it affects you. Nothing can hurt me as long as I have you … so I guess we’re basically saying the same thing, aren’t we?"

"Yup," he replied. "Because we’re on the same page, meant to be together …I always say it but it’s true – we’re the real thing."

I snickered a little at what he just said.

"What? What’s so funny?"

I really didn’t want to mention them but the New Kids once had this huge sponsor deal with Coke and the tag for it was "There’s Magic In The Real Thing". Of course what he said reminded me of them and I told him, only to have him shake his head in disgust.

"Here you are, with a huge sex symbol telling you he loves you, would do anything for you, and you’re remembering a New Kids on the Block commercial or something. You’re psycho, T," he told me and I kept laughing because he was probably right – I was and maybe still am partially psychotic about my Wahlberg men but so what?

"Look," I said in my best adult voice, "you’ve got your fans and they’ve got theirs, whether they broke up on not. So shut it up."

There, that should put him in his place. "And besides, where would you be without your psycho fans? They annoy you sometimes but if they weren’t there to boost your ego, you’d probably start crying.

Fans did annoy him and he went on and on ad nauseum about that but if no one screamed or took pictures of him, he’d worry what was wrong and crap. I knew he’d have fans for the rest of his life – maybe not as many, but fans nonetheless

He yawned loudly, a huge yawn and I knew he was tired. "Don’t you have to go to the studio soon, or can you take a nap before you go?

He yawned again, head still on my stomach like it was a pillow. It was getting bigger, I noticed. "I can take a nap for a few hours," he informed me, eyes half-closed. "Will you sleep with me? Lay with me?"

What a big baby he was. And I indulged every second of it, relishing the fact that, for once, I wasn’t the one seeking comfort although I probably should’ve been the one needing reassurance. The thing was, he’d just given me what I needed and that made me stable enough to be there for him. "Of course, baby," I reached down to stroke his hair. "I’ll never leave you," I promised.

He frowned, still halfway to dreamland. "You promised, remember? No matter what happens, we stay together, right?" If he thought I was going to leave now he had another think coming. Since I guess we’d decided to have the baby, there was no way in hell I was going through it by myself. And the fact that I loved him with every fiber of my being helped in the decision making progress too.

"I remember my promise every day," I told him. "No matter how bad things might get, knowing I have you makes it worthwhile, I think. You’d have to get Lonnie to drag me away from you at this point ‘cause Mike wouldn’t do it. I’d kill him if he tried." That me him laugh a little and so did I at the image of Lonnie trying to drag me away. Over my dead body would that happen; he’d seem enough humiliating moments as far as I was concerned.

He snuggled in closer, hands wrapped around my waist. "Good. A promise is a promise and now I know we can be together all the time."

I wondered aloud, "Do you mean literally or figuratively? Do I have to shadow your every move now? It should be the other way around, you know. You should be watching me and making sure I’m fine and all of that." That was the last thing I wanted but I was being silly.

He mumbled into my skin, almost tickling me. "I already do watch every move you make," he said sleepily. "After your drinking and shit, I know I gotta pay attention to you or you’ll do something crazy and end up hurting yourself.

He was so overreacting. "Would you let that go? It was stupid, it was a mistake and I won’t do it again, okay? I promise." Since he held promises in such high regard, I figured that would placate him. And believe it or not, my plan worked.

"Okay. You promised and I’ll let it go as long as you don’t do it again," he muttered in that half-awake, half-asleep state. "We’ve got precious cargo here – besides you, the most precious of all – and we can’t take chances. Are we on the same page here?" He sounded drunk, he was so tired. I kept rubbing his hair and his breathing got heavier.

"Yes, sir," I said softly so as not to awaken him. He was so out of it that it sounded like he was talking in his sleep. Same page. "Now … I love you, take a nap with me so we can go to the studio. Okay? You satisfied?" I was sort of tired from the day’s activities – first Sasha, now Justin – and a nap sounded wonderful. Carefully so as not to disturb him, I leaned over and got the phone and called the front desk for a wakeup call in two hours. When I hung up, Justin had moved up to make sure I didn’t go anywhere that he wasn’t. He lay beside me on his stomach, one arm laying on me like a dead weight. I moved in closer, he sighed, shifting a little.

"What’s wrong, sweetie?" I asked closing my own eyes.

He muttered, "Nothing … everything’s perfect. We’re gonna be the happiest family, T. We’re gonna be a real family."

It sure looked that way, didn’t it? Unfortunately things aren’t always what they seem. I wanted to protect him from it, but it was inevitable. We were far from perfect and both of us had a lot of growing up to.

A lot.