What if I happend to be pregnant?

  Then she awoke from a drowsy state, hearing the shower running. She knew she should get up and start preparing a meal, but she was caught in a strange inertia. Now she couldn't care less about food when the rest of her life depended on what happens between them. She couldn't postpone it any longer.

Maybe tonight won't be the last. Maybe. Miracles have happened before.

She could hope for miracles, but she was prepared for a less than perfect reality. She would leave this luxury, comfortable apartment that Kelvin had provided for her. Her next life direction won't be matched by color, so how? The right rugs and curtains didn't matter, Kelvin mattered, but she wouldn't be able to have him.

She only hoped she would be able to hide her cries and pleas, he would hate the sight.

Being without him was the hardest thing she'd ever faced. She loves him now even more than she did two years ago, when she agreed to be his lover. It always squeezed her heart with the way he did something like kindness, then disappeared as it appeared as if it were just an accidental gesture in the present. That didn't go to any trouble to do something with her. And there's the relevancy he shows in the cool, quiet way as he steadily builds up a massive stock portfolio in her name, so she'll make sure financially and how he Always praise whatever she cooks.

She had never seen anyone as demanding to be loved as Kelvin, nor had anyone dismissed any sign of intense love as he did.

He had almost fanatical restraint and she had fallen madly in love with it when his restraint broke as they made love, yet never before had he made love as madly, lustfully as he did tonight. Only when they made love did she see the real Kelvin, the primordial passion he had hidden for the rest of time.

She loved all of his expressions, but she loved the image, the look in his eyes while they made love. Black hair drenched in sweat, eyes fierce and bright, all limits burned as his thrust increased in both depth and speed.

She has no pictures of him. She would keep those images sharp and glossy in her mind, as if she would take them out and revisit them every time the solitude became too intense. Then she would carefully compare his dear face with another's, face equal in preciousness, and look for the similarity, which would comfort her as well as hurt her.

She ran her hands over her belly, which was still flat and expressionless, yet the baby was growing inside.

She had few symptoms of pregnancy, although almost 4 months. It was a sign that she had gone to the doctor for a preventive exam, that indicated a good physical condition and was definitely pregnant. She had no morning vomiting, only a few nausea, which didn't matter except for the flashbacks of the past. Her breasts were a little more sensitive now, and she started to take naps, but she felt different than before.

The biggest difference was that she felt almost all the emotions of the child overwhelm her, Kelvin's baby: frenzied joy at its presence within her, fierce protection; a strong sense of physical possession, the impatience to actually hold it in her arms, and almost an unbearable sense of loss because she would lose her father when she had the child. child.

Kelvin made it clear from the start, that he would not accept bonds and that the child was not a mere bondage, it was an unbreakable chain. You'll be looking for that outrageous thing. Just knowing she was pregnant was enough for him to leave her.

She tried to resent him, but she couldn't. She had gone into this with wide eyes, Kelvin had never tried to hide anything from her, had never made any promises, in fact, by the way he did, she knew for sure that he would not suggest anything more than a physical relationship. He didn't do anything other than what he said he would do. It wasn't his fault when their birth control plan failed, nor was it his fault that her heart was broken for him.

The shower has stopped flowing. After a minute, he walked into the bedroom naked, rubbing a towel all over his wet hair. A slight frown drew his brows down when he saw her still on the bed, he pulled the towel around his neck and stepped out to sit down beside her, running his hands down the sheets searching for her soft body. , her warmth. His hand rested on her stomach. "Are you okay?" he asked with concern, "Are you sure I won't hurt you?". She put a hand on his arm "I'm fine". Better yet, lying there with his hand pressed against the child he gave her.

He yawned and shrugged, loosening his muscles. Now he had no signs of tension from before, his expression relaxed, his eyes lazy with satisfaction. “I'm hungry. Do you want to have dinner at home or out?”

"Let's eat at home." She didn't want to spend their last evening in a crowded restaurant.

As he began to rise, she squeezed her hand with his, holding him back. He gave her a look of mild surprise. She took a deep breath, now she knew what to say before she lost her mind, however her words were nothing like what she had planned. “I'm curious what you're going to do. What if I happen to be pregnant?”p

In an instant, his face completely disappeared from expression and his eyes were covered with a layer of mist. His voice was deep and careful. “In the beginning, I told you I wouldn't get married under any circumstances, so don't try to get pregnant to hold me back. If you're looking for a marriage, I'm not that man, and maybe we'll cancel our arrangement."

The tension was back, every line of his massive body tensing as he sat naked by the bed waiting for her answer, but she could see no sign of anxiety on his face. his face. He has made a decision and now he is just waiting to hear her decision.

A great force pushed against her chest and she endured it with great difficulty, but his answer was no more than what she had expected.

But she found that she couldn't say the things that made him get up, get dressed, and go outside. Not now, in the morning. She wanted to have one last night with him, close in his arms. She wanted to say she loved him again, the way he would allow.

Kelvin woke early the next morning, and lay sprawled in the dim light of dawn, unable to fall back asleep because of the stress of the echoes of the question Layla had posed last night. For a few moments like a nightmare, he felt his whole life fall apart, until Layla smiled silently and said softly, “No, you never tried to force me to marry you. . It was just a question.”

She was still asleep, her head on his shoulder, his left arm around her, his right still on her hip. From day one, he had not been able to sleep without her near him. He'd slept alone his entire adult life, but when Layla became his lover, he was suddenly surprised that he couldn't sleep alone anymore.

That got worse. Business trips had never bothered him before, in fact, he'd thrived on them, but lately, they'd irritated him. The last trip was the worst, the delays, the 

It wouldn't be okay until he had her underneath him in bed, until he felt her warm, soft body wrap around him, he would finally be able to relax.

He had gone through the door of the apartment and the desire had hit him like a punch, slow and hard. Layla looked up with his usual smile, his eyes as deep, calm and clear as a dim lake, and his wild mood vanished, replaced by primal sexual need.

Going through the door was like entering a secret place to find the woman that made him special. She had poured him a drink and slid close to him, and he had smelled the sweet scent of her skin, the scent that had clung to their sheets, the scent absent from the sheets. hotel linens drove him crazy. The intense nature of the craving that had held him back was still a little shaken this morning.

Layla. He had noticed that silence, and her feminine scent from the first day he hired her as his secretary. He had coveted her from the beginning but he had suppressed his sexual urges because he neither wanted nor needed some kind of trouble at work. Even so, the lust grew stronger and stronger, until it became an unbearable need that tormented him day and night, and the control began to crumble.

Layla was like honey, and he was going crazy with the urge to taste her. Her hair was brown, shiny, smooth, with streaks of blond, and her eyes were deep and tender. Even her skin seemed smooth, warm, sweet. She doesn't like to dress up but does enjoy watching someone twirling her way around. And those tender eyes were always calm, warm and alluring, until eventually he could no longer resist the attraction. The anger of that first night still startled him, even in memory, for he had never lost control until then. He'd lost it with Layla, deep in her sweet, hot abyss and at times it felt like he'd never found it again.

He'd never let anyone get close to him, but after that first night, he realized he couldn't leave her like he did with the others. The simple admission of the truth alarmed him. The only way he was able to handle it was to perfectly divide her from the rest of his life. She could be his lover, but it couldn't be anything else. He couldn't let her problems go too much. He was always on guard so she wouldn't get too close.and the unfavorable things were nothing out of the ordinary, but the things he had taken for granted before now annoyed him almost unbearably. . A late flight can bring him anger, a lost plan almost enough to set someone on fire, a broken piece of equipment that he curses harshly; and culminating in his inability to sleep. The noise of the hotel and the unfamiliar bed were a particular annoyance, though he probably wouldn't have noticed them if Layla had been there with him.

That lonely admission was enough to make him sweat, and to add to it was a nagging need to return to Danvers with Layla.