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
The elevator lurching shakes me out of my slumber; Claire seems just as groggy as I am. I can't tell if the car is about to start moving or not, but both of us are butt-naked."Shit. We might want to get dressed in case this thing starts to descend and we are suddenly in front of other people."She moves like a thief in the night. I'm tempted to watch in awe of her graceful actions and how quickly she responds, but I decide my time is better spent donning my own apparel. In no time, we are both fully dressed, waiting, but nothing happens."I hate this fucking building," I say to no on in particular."Really? It's growing on me." She gives me a crafty grin. She's scheming, but I can't imagine what it would be.We sit there idly talking; I'm amazed at how her personality has changed since I first met her. No longer is she the frigid ice princess she presented herself as hours earlier; she's down to earth, works hard, and is actually pretty damn funny.The conversation is easy
A week later, I still haven't heard from her. Yes, I have her cell on that little piece of paper Tonya gave me the day I met her tucked in my wallet, but she made it clear she didn't want to see me, so I haven't contacted her. I check my phone constantly to see if somehow I've missed her call or maybe a text, but am always disappointed."Any messages for me?" I ask for the tenth time since walking in the door today."No, Sasha. Not in the five minutes since you last asked. Who is it that you're expecting to hear from? You've been acting really strange since you last went to the mill. Has that place finally cracked you, too?" Tonya jokes, but she has no clue how close to right she actually is.I don't respond and make my way back to my office. I have a ton of showings this afternoon and need to get in gear. I can't make a living hanging out behind my desk.Just as I'm about to walk out my door to meet a client, Tonya walks in with a huge grin on her face holding a stack of paper
My intention was to wait until the closing and ask her if she wanted to go to dinner, but I don't make it that long. I went home after Elsie left my office and stared at the walls, listened to the silence, and thought about how much I had enjoyed my night with Claire in the elevator, how much I wanted to repeat it-not just the sex, but the company. The lure of her mint green eyes, her infectious laugh, the glow of her skin, Jesus, I'm in way over my head.She had mentioned that night she worked late hours for her father; I hope tonight is one of those nights, because I would much rather show up at her office than on her doorstep, like some stray dog.When I pull up in front of Weston Wealth Management, I see an entire floor of lights still on and pray it's her. I push the button on the intercom at the door and wait for a reply. When I don't get one, I push the button again, holding it longer this time. When I release it, the speaker cracks at me, then the cold voice. "Yes?""Prin
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