I swallow hard. There's no doubt he can see the fear in my eyes. I've never been taken anally. I admit the thought appeals to me, but simultaneously terrifies me. My mind begins to race, wondering if I can do this, if I really want to do this. I do, but I'm afraid it will hurt. I don't do well with pain. My face admits defeat as I look down, refusing to make further eye contact.He turns and sits on the bed with me still in his lap. Now able to use his hands, he tilts my chin, forcing the issue. "We stop when you say stop. If you aren't comfortable, if it hurts, or you just don't like it...you say the word, and I stop."There's something in his eyes telling me he means what he says. I see lust, but beyond that-or maybe on the forefront, I can't be sure-he looks as though he wants to take care of me. The way his hand strokes my spine tells me it's more than a physical desire to please me tonight. In some odd way, he genuinely seems to care about me.I nod my confirmation. The tens
Waking to the alarm on my phone, I search for it, realizing it's somewhere on the floor in my jeans. When I find the cell and silence the alarm, it hits me like a ton of bricks.I'm alone.He didn't stay with me.I didn't wake to his beautiful face.I sit on the bed and let out a sigh of sadness. I knew it would happen, but I thought he would at least say goodbye.A tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. I wipe it off with vigor, angry with myself for getting attached in what was clearly a one-night stand. There's no note, no business card to contact him the next time I'm in town, nothing. Needing to wash away my emptiness and fix my disheveled hair, I take to the shower.The next day and half are brutal. Back to back meetings, little time to eat, and by the end of the first night, I am so exhausted from the mental overload of the day and lack of sleep from the night before, I crash in the room after dinner and drinks with people I wasn't really interested in spending any tim
"Sasha! Wait. You have a showing of the mill at four," my admin Tonya calls out to me as I'm about to leave for the day.I stop with my hand on the door. "It's a quarter till. When were you going to tell me?" I'm sure she can hear the irritation in my voice. That property has been the bane of my existence. Every time I show it, something happens. It's as if the place is cursed. I've tried repeatedly to get the owner to list it with another agent, but she refuses. The last time I tried, she told me it was a very special place and the right buyer would come along. Then she winked at me. Crazy old bat."I just hung up the phone. I didn't know you were leaving early or I would have scheduled it for tomorrow." She races up to me with the address written down, as if I don't know where the place is, and a woman's name and phone number: Claire Weston. "She was adamant about seeing the place today."I watch Tonya's face. There's something she isn't telling me about this showing. She's wor
The first thing I see is her high heel-clad foot hit the pavement. The second one joins it as she stands from the seat. She's tall and thin with legs that go on for a mile.Sliding my gaze up her stems, I note the smart black skirt perfectly tailored to fit her body, the billowy white blouse that seems to hover over her skin instead of actually touching it, then her long, lean neck. She has on huge sunglasses-popular with the ladies these days-hiding most of her features, but her nose is slim and straight. Her dark-black hair tied back at the base of her neck. She is the picture of perfection, but looks brutal as hell.Pushing off the car, I walk to her, extending my hand. "Sasha Maxwell." I introduce myself.She lifts the glasses from her face with her left hand, extending her right with a snide grin. "Sasha, huh?" She doesn't wait for a response to the arrogant way she snarled my name. "Claire Weston."Times like these I hate my parents for giving me a name like Sasha. As a k
I let out the breath I held as the heavy steel doors close. I press the button to take us to the ground floor counting every second that ticks by before I can be free from this wench. Everything about her irritates the shit out of me: the way she walks, the way she holds her head, her voice, the things she says, the noise her fucking shoes make on the concrete.Every.Damn.Thing.The car comes lurching to a halt tossing me against the wall. I brace myself on the handrail to keep from falling then realize my client hadn't been so fortunate. Spread out on her ass, her skirt has ridden up her legs in the fall and she is holding her ankle. That's what she gets for wearing those stupid ass shoes to look at a damn mill. Extending my hand to help her up, she backhands my arm."I'm fine. I don't need your help." Ahh, the wounded pride of a woman shining through."Suit yourself." I lean back against the wall, wondering how long we'll be held captive.I fucking hate this goddamn b
I play games on my phone for a couple of hours to ward off the crazy that is starting to fill my mind until my phone finally dies. Claire's died about twenty minutes before mine.I've watched her from the corner of my eye as she's picked at her skirt and blouse. She reminds me of a monkey pulling mites off another monkey, and I have to suppress a laugh.The anger has dissipated and I can acknowledge when her mouth is shut just what a striking woman she is. Her green eyes are such a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her milky complexion doesn't have a flaw in it. Her cheekbones are high, perfect nose, and lovely neck. Somewhere along the way, she took the tie out of her hair, letting it fall around her shoulders in loose waves. She tucks the shiny locks behind her ear, unaware she's being watched.Her head slowly turns in my direction and I notice her eyes are brimmed with tears."What's wrong, Princess?""I'm terribly claustrophobic. I was doing okay with my phone to distract
Turning, I put my back to the steel doors and slide down, still firmly planted inside her. I'm gearing up for round two, but need her to keep me aroused while I regain a little strength.The problem is she looks thoroughly fucked and in need of a nap. Her hair is mussed, her face flushed with a beautiful glow, and her eyes heavy. She lifts her gaze to mine. I notice the normally mint green of her eyes now has a yellow hue, as if they have softened. She must see the desire building again because she gives me this quirky grin as she slowly rocks her hips.The movements are so subtle I wouldn't notice them if my dick weren't in her tight pussy. She accentuates the roll of her hips just enough to keep me hard but not enough for me to be desperate to fuck her. She tucks her head into my shoulder, allowing the rest of her body to relax and rest while she waits for me. This isn't her first rodeo.With her breasts pressed against my chest, her arms around my neck and mine loosely draped
My mind starts to swirl with the thoughts that a woman tucked into me, seeking comfort, feels good. I don't do warm and fuzzy.I don't commitment.I don't do relationships.This, right here, I don't do this.I do wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am and then I'm out. I have no problem using women for sex. I'm honest about it. I never lead them down some primrose path of happiness.It dawns on me, Claire and I didn't have this discussion. We didn't have any discussion. We just fucked, twice.I keep trying to work myself up to be upset, to convince myself to keep this woman at arms length, but no matter what I tell myself, I keep coming back to this place of complacency where I'm perfectly content holding her in my arms."Quit over thinking it, Sasha." She doesn't open her eyes or move her head, just speaks against my chest."I don't know what you're talking about." I try to play it cool.She starts laughing, her body shaking against my own. "You do. Just stop. I'm not looking for
Three days in a hospital was enough to make me crazy. I was ready to get the hell out of Dodge. I finally admitted to Hale that I didn't have a car seat or an outfit for Holt to go home. He disappeared for several hours, along with my father who had arrived when promised. It was odd for the two of them to go blissfully into the day, jovial like best buddies, but I welcomed the quiet reprieve so I could take a nap.I admitted I was impressed when they returned. Neither of them bore any visible war wounds, and they toted bags of all things baby. They were both elated by the little boy who had my stunning blue eyes, my temper, and propensity for getting his way. I was enamored. Completely. My father excused himself, blaming business on his departure but assured me he'd be back to take us home. When we finally checked out of the hospital, Hale pulled around to pick us up in a Mercedes GLE63 S with a blue bow on the hood. I sat in a wheelchair with Holt in my arms when he rounded the f
Days turned into a week, and I was too terrified to reach out. I had no idea what had happened that day with Beth or the outcome of her seeing us fucking-doctor and patient-in the exam room. I'd been left in the dark. Once again by myself. Still unable to reach my friends and my father keeping me at arm's length, I waited out the rest of my pregnancy in silence. Eight days after Beth's untimely interruption, the pain became so great, and the contractions so intense, I had no choice but to call Morris. I didn't think it was safe for me to drive once my water broke. At just over thirty-four weeks, I was early but not overly concerned about the safety of the baby. My father's driver showed up to escort me to the emergency room, effectively breaking me from the memories of the rocky road I had taken to get me here. We rode in silence as I thought about the fact that I didn't have anything remotely baby related. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I wondered what kind of life I'd possib
The closer I got to my due date the more precarious my visits to Hale's office became. His staff had started to question why he closed the office so frequently and wondered if it was related to his mother's cancer. Luckily, she'd been in remission and rather healthy, all things considered. I'd had the pleasure of meeting her once, and it was apparent Hale hadn't kept his end of the agreement because she knew all about me. I reminded myself she had a disease many didn't outlive and gave him a pass on the breach of contract right after he kissed my ass for about three hours.All my appointments were moved to the end of the day on Fridays so he could send his staff home early and I came in an hour later. Funny, they all stopped asking questions when they got a half day off every other Friday and would get one every Friday once I hit thirty-six weeks. Nearing the end of my pregnancy, at thirty-three weeks, I had one more two-week appointment before I had to start going weekly. Hale ha
After a nap, Hale insisted we go to his office for the checkup and ultrasound. I still hadn't decided if I wanted to know the gender, but he assured me he could keep it a secret. Then I decided, I didn't want him to know the gender if I didn't know it. "I think we should just skip the ultrasound if we're gonna go," I said as I twirled a piece of my hair on my finger. "Actually, let's not go and pretend like we did."He pulled me into his lap, forcing me to meet his stare. "Why don't you want to do the ultrasound?" I gave him a half-hearted shrug. "Just not up for it." My brows rose as I continued to educate him. "You're aware that women didn't have them done for centuries, right? It wasn't until recent years that they became the norm."I jumped when he poked me in the side, and a grin spread across my face. "Yes, I'm aware. They mentioned something like that in medical school." He watched my expression and quit playing games. "What's the real reason, Kate?""I'm scared. It
Hale sent me a couple texts before my next appointment. I didn't respond with anything other than one-word answers. His contact was obligatory, not because he gave a shit, so there was no reason to bother. Each Tuesday at nine in the morning, I got a message that asked how I felt. Apparently, he'd set a reminder on his phone, and that irritated me more than his silence. He didn't owe me anything. I'd decided to tell Kappy and Carmella about the baby the night before my next appointment. At twenty weeks, this appointment would include another ultrasound, and if I wanted to know the sex of the baby, I could. I wanted one, or both, of my friends with me. I couldn't bear the thought of doing this alone anymore. It wouldn't go well, but I had hoped my two best friends would forgive my night of indiscretion and my secret. "You're not serious. Are you, Kate?" Carmella hissed at me with a nasty scowl. I chewed on the side of my bottom lip and nodded. I hoped Kappy would come to my res
A week after my appointment, I got a series of text messages from a number I didn't know but promptly identified the sender upon reading them. HALE: IT'S WRONG. I KNOW IT IS, BUT I CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT YOU.HALE: PLEASE DISREGARD THAT LAST TEXTHALE: I DIDN'T MEAN TO SEND ITHALE: I MEAN, I DID, BUT I SHOULDN'T HAVE SENT IT TO YOU.HALE: DAMN IT. I MEAN, IF I HAD INTENDED TO HIT SEND-IT WAS WRITTEN FOR YOU. I SHOULDN'T HAVE SENT IT, BECAUSE IT WASN'T APPROPRIATE. HALE: AWW HELL. FUCK IT. AT THIS POINT, I COULD LOSE MY LICENSE, ANYHOW.I took note of the times and realized they spanned about two hours. I'd been at Carmella's house, who still didn't know I was pregnant. I'd left my phone in the car with the intention of coming clean-regarding the pregnancy, not Dr. Hottie-but had chickened out and left with my secret...both of them. At fourteen weeks, no one other than my father and Hale knew.I giggled to myself. Hale must've been freaked out, thinking he'd overst
There was a reason I shouldn't be a parent. I sucked at responsibility, and it wasn't because I was an idiot; it was because I didn't care and people always cleaned up my messes. That card Dr. Duek gave me, the one I had promptly put in my purse, never made it back out. Meaning, I'd missed my appointment. The one he closed his entire office for. Still oblivious to my faux pas when a random number displayed itself on my caller ID, I answered with the exuberance of any other day. "Hello?""Kate?" The gruff voice sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it."Yes.""It's Hale."It took me a split second to recall who Hale was. "Hey, Hale. What's up?" For the life of me, I didn't remember giving him my number, but somehow, he had it and used it."Your appointment."Fuck. I left him to hang in silence as I dug through my purse looking for the card. I glanced at the chicken scratch on the back, noting today's date, and my watch indicated I was over an hour late. His vo
Dr. Hale Duek. OBGYN. I liked his online ad, and he was farther away from my side of town than any other doctor while still being in the same city. Hopefully, I wouldn't run into anyone I knew, and photographers would lose interest as I crossed the track into a less affluent part of the community. When I pulled up to the little mill-hill home that housed his practice, I started to regret not accepting my father's offers of help. He had insisted on the non-disclosure to protect my privacy, and his own, but he'd relented on the bullshit story about artificial insemination and agreed we simply would not answer any questions regarding the details of the pregnancy. Eventually, interest would die down, and something else would take the place of my promiscuity. If I played my cards right-kept quiet and wore concealing clothing-it would be months before anyone knew I was pregnant, and a couple months after the birth, no one would be interested, anyhow. I hadn't told Carmella or Kappy and
The only thing worse than being caught having a threesome was the press publicizing it. My father had me on total lockdown after the charade at Scene Six. I hadn't made a public appearance in close to two months. I swear to God, I believed he had sabotaged every interview I went on to keep me from getting a job and reinstating my trust fund freedom. Only the necessities were paid, and he wasn't afraid to cut those off as well. The first couple weeks hadn't really bothered me. I was as embarrassed as my father when I saw the picture that I fucking posed for on the cover of the daily paper, and my friends wouldn't shut up about my debauchery. The image that dominated the front page the next morning was, in essence, soft porn. The straps of my dress had fallen from my shoulders almost wholly exposing my breasts, and any periodical reader could now tell you the shade of my left areola along with the color of my panties. To make matters worse, I'd been dancing, drinking, and sweating all