Daddy Helps When Husband’s Away Chapter 04
I went rigid with tension, my hand snapping down instinctively onto his forearm, trying to stop him.
But his strength was steady, unhurried, unyielding.
His hot palm slid smoothly onto my belly.
On the other end of the phone, Mason was still talking, oblivious.
But my mind was no longer with him.
If my stepfather really did have those kinds of intentions toward me — I honestly didn’t know whether I would allow it or refuse.
And then, the next moment, his large hand kneaded gently over my abdomen, and — impossibly — it eased the unbearable tightness there.
A low, involuntary sound of pure relief escaped me.
He laughed softly, and I felt the faint vibration of it through his palm.
My face flushed.
He leaned to my ear and murmured, “Actually, at times like this, the belly needs to be worked too. It helps with…”
Ethan’s low voice drifted into my ear in waves.
I’d never realized a voice alone could undo someone so completely.
I lost the thread of what he was saying entirely.
Until, at the end, he laughed quietly.
“Sophia, why are your ears so red?”
Only then did I notice the burning heat radiating from them, as though my whole body might catch fire.
Half from shyness. Half from shame.
Ethan was seriously, professionally treating me — even explaining things to me — and I was drifting off into fantasies of the worst kind.
Mason, having heard nothing from me for a while, called my name in confusion, and that finally jolted me back.
I gave him some vague response and hung up.
Ethan is my stepfather. He would never actually do that with me.
But the drifting feeling wouldn’t leave.
At last, Ethan withdrew his hands with a small, satisfied smile.
“Feeling better?”
The pressure had eased considerably compared to before.
I hurried back to the bedroom to nurse.
To my surprise, Liam latched and fed easily this time.
Once he was asleep, I had to force myself back into the living room to deal with the actual reason he’d come — the gift.
He pushed the elegant box across the coffee table toward me.
I made polite small talk for a minute or two and then hurried to see him out.
Ethan didn’t linger.
He shrugged on his coat, picked up his medical bag.
But at the entryway, he paused, turned back, and looked at me for a long moment.
“Sophia, if you ever need me again…”
“…call me anytime.”
“Day or night, sweetheart.”
Such a simple sentence, and yet my heart was pounding.
Between adults, that kind of hint doesn’t need spelling out. I understood him perfectly.
That night, I had a dream that was anything but peaceful.
When I woke, my cheeks were still tinged with a delicate, telling flush.
A few days later, Mason came home from his trip.
As luck would have it, I got engorged again.
Remembering how effective it had been with Ethan, I coaxed Mason into trying to massage it out.
Mason, wildly enthusiastic, came at me with two clumsy hands.
The moment he touched me —
“Ah—!”
The pain nearly knocked the breath out of me.
Furious, I kicked him in the backside.
He had no idea what he was doing, and had promised me confidently he’d be fine, and now he’d made it worse.
I figured a little rest would fix it. But instead, the engorgement kept getting worse.
By the second day I couldn’t move without wincing.
The baby couldn’t feed either.
Mason apologized profusely and said he’d find a professional lactation consultant to come to the apartment.
Several days passed. No word.
I assumed he’d forgotten.
Until one evening, Mason pulled me into the bedroom with a solemn look on his face.
“Baby. About the lactation consultant…”
His expression was unusually serious.
“If it were… a man, could you deal with that?”
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