Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(41)

17





I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m angry, sobby, and mega-horny all at the same time. It’s like the days before my period times nine hundred thousand.

I’ve been injecting the FSH and hMG into my abdomen for seven days now, and I’ve had ultrasounds every two days to monitor the growth of my follicles. Today, after work, I’m heading in for another ultrasound and to start another medication, an antagonist, to prevent ovulation.

I told Brook, Hannah and Carly that I was ready, but wow, these hormones are something else.

I drum my fingers on my desk.

Lavinia looks up and glares. “Do you mind?”

Ugh, she’s in a mood today.

I stop and shift in my seat. When I do, my zipper rubs against my area down there, and I let out a choked-off moan. I cross my legs, but that only makes it worse. All day, every move I make sends a zip of need through me. I uncross my legs and let out another moan that I cover with a cough.

“Honestly, Gemma. Do you mind? I’m trying to complete the quarterly budget,” Lavinia says tersely. “You’ve been coughing half the day.”

I blush, then, “Sorry. I’ve got a tickle in my…throat.” I clear my throat to emphasize the problem. Lavinia frowns at me and turns back to her computer monitor.

I shift and try to sink down in my seat so there’s no friction or rubbing happening down there. Now I see why Hannah jumped her husband three times a day. Heck, I’d jump a stranger, or possibly a coat rack if it’d help me get off.

I look over at Ian’s office. He’s out for the day, doing a press event in Soho. I squirm in my seat and another zing zips through me.

My cell phone vibrates loudly and I dig it out of my purse. It’s Josh.

“Hello,” I say in a quiet voice.

Lavinia glares at me.

“Hey, Gemma. It’s Josh. What’re you up to?” He’s voice sounds a little tinny, and I can hear a lot of street noise in the background.

“I’m at work,” I whisper. “What’s up?”

“I’m at my place in Williamsburg. I thought I’d call and see how it’s going.” The sound of his call gets clearer and his voice comes across all deep and rumbly. And I’ll be darned if it doesn’t hit me right there.

I let out a little squeak, then cough to cover it. I glance at Lavinia but she’s ignoring me.

“It’s going. It’s fine.” I press my lips together.

“Do you want to hang out tonight?” he asks, and the tenor of his voice vibrates through all the places down there.

“Just a sec,” I say. I stand quickly, look around the office, then take quick, mincing steps toward the bathroom. Each step my thighs rub together and there’s a little jolt of pleasure. When I get to the bathroom I shut the door and lock it. “You’re in the city?” I ask him. I lean into the sink and look in the mirror. My cheeks are flushed and my eyes are horny.

“I’m in Brooklyn. Do you want to do something tonight? I figure the transfer’s soon, we could hang out before—”

“I’ve got an ultrasound appointment today. Do you want to come?” I ask. Then I look at my reflection in surprise. “What are you doing?” I mouth to myself in the mirror. I just look back at myself, completely unapologetic.

Ridiculous. These hormones have made me insane.

Josh pauses, then, “Yeah. Okay.” Another pause, then, “Hey, you sound kind of funny. You sure you’re alright?”

I run the cold water and splash it over my face.

“It’s been a day. Can you get here in like twenty minutes?”

“No problem. See you soon.”





Fifteen minutes later I’m standing outside my office building waiting for Josh. I wave to him when I see him down the block, just past Zamir’s metal coffee cart. It’s the end of January, and still bitterly cold. Dirty gray snow is piled on the curbs and large salt crystals interspersed with slush coat the sidewalks. The exhaust from a city bus chugging by hangs in the dry cold air, then disappears on a rush of wind.

Today, Josh has on his winter coat, hat and gloves. His pace picks up when he sees me and he lifts his hand in hello.

I smile at that and pull my coat around me a little tighter.

He grins when he gets to me, “Playing hooky? It’s only three o’clock. Or am I rubbing off on you? All hail freedom from the nine to five.” I cross my legs and try to ignore the pulse of pleasure that thrums through me at the deep rumble of his voice.

“Hmm?” I ask, when I’ve got my reaction under control.

“Hooky?” he asks, and I take in his unshaven jaw and the messy hair sticking out from under his winter hat. Before, as in, less than a month ago, I would’ve taken his appearance as proof of his devil-may-care, generalized slackerness, but now I’m not so sure. Maybe his air of not caring, and finding life a joke, isn’t how he feels at all, it’s just an image he shows the world.

“What are you doing in the city?” I ask.

His eyes light up, “I was checking in on the construction at my place.”

“It’s coming along?”

He nods and puts his hands in his coat pocket. “Should be done soon. What about you? Why’re you playing hooky? Not that I object.”