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" "Of course we can." Dr. Lévy smiled, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement—probably because she found mypossessiveness over my wife entertaining. "You'll have to let her go for a bit so she can change, and we can run a few basic tests."
"Tests?" I felt something freeze inside me. "Why?"
"It's what we do at every appointment, Duncan," Elsa said softly.
"I'll come with you."
Elsa licked her lips. "Why don't you stay and talk to Doctor Lévy? Ask all the questions you have?"
"And you'll be alright?" Of course, she would. Women had children all the time, and yet I couldn't help but worry about mine. The truth was, I had been feeling out of my element ever since I met Elsa and I didn’t think that was ever going to change.
"Yes." She patted my shoulder and then, on impulse, went on tiptoe and kissed my lips. "I'm fine. I'm going to continue to be fine."
I kissed her back in a way that was wholly inappropriate in front of an audience. But they could all go fuck themselves. I was feeling territorial.
"Are you American?" Doctor Lévy asked as she sat down on a chair by the examination table.
"Yes," I said brusquely. "Is she okay?"
She smiled. "First baby?"
"Yeah. Is it that obvious?"
"I've had more than my share of worried fathersandmothers in my examination room." She looked at me speculatively. "This is the first time I have seen you with Elsa."
I nodded but didn't elaborate. It was none of her fucking business that we were still finding our marital legs.
"When exactly is the baby due?" I asked. "Elsa said sometime in December."
"December twentieth, but you never know with first babies. They can come early or late."
"A Christmas baby," I whispered under my breath. It was the best thing I could ever find under a Christmas tree.
I calculated in my head. That was thirty-eight weeks from conception, and since even I knew pregnancy was measured from the first day of a woman's last period, the timing fit, not that I ever doubted the baby was mine.
Had the condom broken? And I didn't even notice that? Well, no surprise there. I was so into the woman in my bed that the city could've been on fire, and I'd be between her legs, tasting that vanilla pussy of hers, fascinated by her breathy moans.
I asked more questions about what Elsa should eat, how rough we could fuck; what should she drink? Was it okay that she worked so many hours in her bakery? Was it okay that she was on her feet so much?
The doctor answered all my questions patiently.
By the time Elsa came back wearing one of those hideous hospital paper gowns.
"You look beautiful," I murmured in surprise. How could she look like this in a fucking hospital gown? And why did I want to strip it off her and fuck her?
She giggled.
"Il est gentil, ton mari," the Nurse said, grinning broadly. He's a sweet one, your husband.
No one ever called Duncan Archer sweet, but then no one had ever seen him with his pregnant wife, who had him pussy whipped, I thought.
Dr. Lévy gestured for Elsa to lie down on the examination table. "We're going to do an ultrasound today to check on the baby's development and, if you want, to find out the baby's sex.Êtes-vous prêts?" Are you ready?
"Are we?" Elsa asked me.
I swallowed hard and nodded, feeling both excited and terrified all at once. "Yes, we're ready."
As Dr. Lévy prepared the ultrasound machine, I moved closer to Elsa, taking her hand in mine. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the medical equipment. After the doctor applied the gel to Elsa's belly, warning her it would be cold, she began moving the transducer. The screen lit up with blurry images.
