Lying in silence, neither of us feeling the need for unnecessary conversation, he turns his head to me. "I'm dying for some water. Can I get you something while I'm up?""Mmm. Water would be fantastic. Thank you." I smile genuinely at him. He's a sweet guy. It's too bad my inner slut muffin decided to pick him for a quickie. He probably would have made good relationship material.He returns with two bottles of ice-cold water, but before handing me mine, he rubs the bottom of it between my breasts, causing me to gasp from the sudden temperature change, then down my stomach, before nudging my legs apart, settling the bottle between my thighs. It feels good, refreshing in an odd way, but damn I'm thirsty, too.He opens the other bottle and hands it to me. I take a long swig while he continues to use the other bottle in his hand to massage my overused lady parts. It's not erotic but definitely intimate. Intimate in a tender way; he's not trying to arouse me, just take care of me.I
I follow him down the hall to the kitchen where he pulls out a pound of ground turkey, a box of angel hair pasta, and a jar of marinara sauce. I laugh realizing what he meant by cheating. Essentially, he's heating stuff up and putting it together. No real cooking, but I don't care. It's ready in less than ten minutes, and moments later we're sitting at his counter eating.I swear this is the best spaghetti I have ever had. He laughs when I tell him, and insists anything would have been good since I haven't eaten in almost twenty-four hours. He may have a point, but we will never know since this is what I'm eating and I love it."Tell me about the bike," he says. It's random but he's certainly not the first person to ask.I start to go into the statistics of my motorcycle. With a mouthful of food, he shakes his head and waves his hand, finishing the bite he's chewing. "No, silly. Tell me why.""Hmm. It was an impulse buy. I was hurt, feeling rejected, and I wanted to regain cont
I'm terrified, plain and simple. It's an irrational fear, but a fear just the same, and it ravages me any time I enter an airport. It never fails: every time I fly, something always happens. My friends think I have adventures. I think it's hell-some of which I bring on myself, some out of my control.I'm embarking on my latest "adventure," driving to the Greenville Spartanburg Airport. My hands are clammy. Mentally, I run down a list of items I need to bring with me. Surely I've forgotten something. The closer I get, the heavier my breathing becomes, the more the paranoia takes hold. Exiting from the freeway, I take the long road, following the signs to long-term parking.Eventually, I'm at the security checkpoint. There must be two hundred people in line. The crowd heightens my anxiety, but I do my best to get through the line without losing my shit. People bump into me, and the TSA agent repeats the same instructions over and over again in a monotonous tone.I finally reach the
Holy hell. When I say gorgeous, I mean fucking stunning. I don't want to stare, so I quickly distract myself by removing my backpack trying not to listen to the people around me continuing to make snide comments. I fish around for my iPad then stuff the black bag under the seat in front of me.I wipe the sweat from the side of my head on my jacket sleeve, then quickly shed that major part of my discomfort. I'm on the verge of throwing up, and apparently, Male Model here next to me is acutely aware he may be caught in the cross fire. I notice him reach up to the call button before I try to hide my face in my hands.Taking several deep breaths, I try not to cry. I'm a total mess. If I don't get myself under control before this plane takes off, not only will I have an anxiety attack, but I'll be suffering from motion sickness as well. When the stewardess approaches, I tense in preparation to hear the complaints of my co-passenger."Ma'am, can you get the lady some water before we ta
I search the sea of drivers waiting for their passengers as I come down the escalator, but I see no one holding a sign with "Waters" written on it, as I was told I would find. I wander the area but see no one as the hordes of passengers make their way to the different carousels. I stand there like an idiot trying to figure out what to do.Digging my cell phone out of my pocket, I call my corporate office to see if they can get in touch with the limo company and find out where my ride is."Trudy! Oh my gosh. I'm so glad I caught you before you left. Do you have a number for the limo service? I can't find the guy anywhere?"Standing in the middle of chaos, waiting for her to locate the number and call the company, a hand settles on my shoulder and startles the shit out of me. I jump, dropping my phone, and see my flight buddy next to me. I realize just how tall he actually is. He's close to a foot taller than I am, towering over me."You scared the crap out of me," I say to him a
In true Mila Waters fashion, the hotel reservation mimics the rest of my trip and the hotel attendant speaks very broken English. I silently send up prayers of thanks to my father who insisted I learn Spanish growing up. Tyler looks pleasantly surprised when I break out in my second language to discuss the situation, and the guy at the desk looks relieved. He finally finds my reservation, misspelled, and quickly hands me my key card, pointing me to the elevators.I love this hotel. I stay here every time I come to Houston. The lobby is modern with an open feel, and the rooms mimic that. Tyler follows me up, pulling my bag behind him with my backpack on his shoulder as we make our way down the sultry hallway to my door.After letting us both inside, he sets my suitcase on the bed and motions toward the bathroom. "Do you mind?""Not at all," I say as I start digging through my suitcase for clean jeans and blouse to match. Thankfully, I brought my black leather ankle boots to wear t
I giggle all the way out to the car. The wine began to take over, warming my body and relaxing the anxiety. With my hand in his, he ushers me to the limo where Jeff is waiting.Tyler sports a sexy grin as we climb in the back of the car where Jeff seals us in our private venue. Situating himself close to me, he takes my chin in his hand, turning my face to meet his. He captures my lips again, but this time, he doesn't let up. The thrust of his tongue in my mouth ignites my lady bits, effectively soaking my panties.I can't help myself as I climb onto him, straddling his lap, never breaking contact. He welcomes me, adjusting his position so I'm right on top of his rigid package, silently letting me know he is as turned on as I am. His hands go to my ass rocking me into him. I moan through the kiss as he rubs me along his jean-covered shaft.Just as things become hot and heavy, I realize the car has stopped moving. The tap on the glass breaks the kiss and I slump in his lap, my obv
Once in the bathroom, I realize how grimy I feel. Between the sprint to the terminal and the romp in the hay, I need a shower, desperately."Hey, Tyler," I call through the door."Yeah? Everything okay?""It's been a long day. Do you mind if I jump in the shower and rinse off?"I hear his footsteps coming toward the door. "Not at all. Do you need some help?" His voice changes from concerned to eager.I giggle as I turn the knob, opening the door for him. He stops long enough to kiss my lips, then reaches past me to turn on the water. Another of the things I love about this hotel is the bathroom. There's no bathtub, just a huge, tiled shower, and instead of a curtain, there's a glass wall. There's no door to the shower, just an opening in the glass, allowing entrance. The tile is a deep, rich brown, which suddenly seems warm and inviting. There's a lot of room to enjoy each other in this space.Tyler leaves his hand under the water, waiting for the temperature to rise to a c
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