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I got out of bed and took a shower. I stood under the hot spray, thinking about Scarlett. I soaped up my body, running my hands over myself. My cock was hard with her on my mind, and I ran my hands up and down my shaft a couple of times, cupping my balls, which were heavy for her. I wanted to release inside of her again.
God, there was nothing better than fucking her until I came inside of her, pumping my seed into her, working to get her pregnant.
When I got out of the shower, I picked up my phone and dialed her number. It rang for a while before she answered.
“Hey,” she said in a soft voice.
“How are you doing?” I asked.
“I can’t talk now,” Scarlett said. “I’m still with Lily. I stayed over at her place last night.”
“Oh, right,” I said.
“I’ll call you later, when I get home, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, nodding even though she couldn’t see me, and she hung up.
With Lily not knowing, we were sneaking around like teenagers. It was ironic because Lily was my daughter. I was old enough to do whatever the fuck I wanted, and I didn’t owe her an explanation. But I didn’t know how to tell her that I wanted a baby, and Scarlett was her best friend. It was closest to the worst-case scenario when it came to taboo.
It was easier to keep it from her right now. It would have to come out eventually, of course. One Scarlett was pregnant, it would be hard to hide as time went on, and the baby wouldn’t exactly be something I could hide.
But I would cross that bridge when I got there.
I got dressed, putting on khaki pants, a polo shirt, and sneakers. I loaded my golf clubs into the car and drove out to the country club.
Siwanoy Country Club was one of many in the area. The Manhattan elite liked hanging around on the golf course, acting like hitting a little ball from one hole to the next, only to follow it around, was something important. But my dad had been at the Siwanoy, so I was there, too.
When I arrived, Jeff’s car was already parked in the parking lot. I got out and made my way to the clubhouse. with its immaculate front garden, its clean interior, and the air of sophistication that hung in the air whenever the rich gathered in one place.
Jeff was at the bar drinking a Bloody Mary. I assumed that was what it was. Jeff just wasn’t the type to drink tomato juice when there wasn’t vodka involved.
I walked over to him.
“Jesus, Jeff, it’s ten in the morning. Bit early for a drink, isn’t it?”
Jeff shrugged. “Are you the fun police suddenly?” he asked.
I blinked at him.
“First, you’re cockblocking me at the club, and now, you’re telling me I can’t have my morning fruit juice?”
I laughed. Fruit juice.
“You’re a real asshole,” I said.
He grinned. “What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.
I sat with him until he finished his drink, not taking the liberty to order one for myself. We headed out to the course. I wasn’t planning on staying late and playing all eighteen holes. I’d just wanted to get out a little bit.
“So, you want to tell me what last night was all about?” Jeff asked, lining up his golf ball and practicing his swing a few times to the side.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“That woman you were so protective over. I mean, she’s fucking hot, so I get you, but since when don’t you share?”
I watched him pull back and take the shot for real this time. The ball didn’t go where he’d planned.
“Fuck,” he said.
