“Don’t stop, Please don’t stop,” she begs as I grip her hips, guiding her as she rides me. I strum her clit with my thumb until she comes again. I wanted to make this time last, but my need for her is just too strong. Rearing up, I suck on her nipple as I fill her again.
Fuck. If I was gone for her before, now it’s even worse. No matter what it takes, I’ll make her my wife. As soon as fucking possible. She climbs off of me and drops down on the bed beside me. We are both breathing heavily. No words are needed now. I’ve never been as happy as I am now, though. Trust me.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I woke up, she was gone.
Good fucking thing I know where to find her, and by God, do I have plans for her.
On Tuesday, she comes into work, looking like the world's sexiest librarian. She flips on the light at her desk and puts her purse into the drawer, giving me the perfect view of her ass as she bends down. Then she sits at her desk, beginning her day. The cameras I have out there are supposed to be for our protection, but all I do is use them to stare at her. All damn day, when I should be working.
“You have a conference call with Tokoyo in eight minutes, sir. I’ll patch it through,” she says after setting my coffee down on my desk.
“Thank you, Scarlett.”
“You’re welcome, sir.”
I should have told her right then and there, but now I want her to fall in love with me. I don’t want to be a one-night mistake for her. I don’t want her to hate me when she finds out what I did. I really didn’t think past my cock on this one. I’ll make it up to her, I swear it.
SIX WEEKS LATER
Oh, God. This sucks balls. The sound of more vomit hitting the toilet does nothing but make my stomach turn more, and then more comes out. It is like a never-ending cycle. I feel like Vince Vaughn on Four Christmases when he says, “Imma do it too.” Only I can’t take the source of the offending action away because it is me. Well, me and the invader in my belly. Yep. I am pregnant. One freaking night of being someone else, and poof, consequences. Just my luck.
When I feel like I can stand and maybe be normal for a second, I wobble to the sink, wash my face, and brush my teeth. “Whoa!” I grip the sink and try to steady myself. I am so dang dizzy, but what do you expect when everything you eat flies right out of your mouth?
Grabbing a brush, I attempt to brush my hair and make myself look normal, so I can try to get to work on time. My complexion is absolutely ghastly lately, and I have been applying way too much foundation to hide it. The truth is, the vomiting is ruthless and supremely unlikable, but I am also not sleeping. How could I? Whenever my mind goes over how in the hell I wound up in this situation, I feel ashamed and stupid. I told myself this would not be happening to me, but here I am. Just like my mom.
My entire name is Scarlett Sunrise Moonblood. Yeah, you heard me. My mom was a forever hippie named Sacred Star Moonblood. I don’t know if it was her birth name, but it is the name I grew up knowing her by. I never knew my father. My mom simply referred to him as Joe Spirit. I grew up with my mom, moving from one hippie commune to another, dragging me behind her. I watched her take one lover, then three, then six before she found Gillespie, and we settled in a house. That was the first time I went to school, at ten years old. It was then I learned the life we led wasn’t normal, and neither was she.
When I was sixteen, my stepfather died, and my mother fell back into her old habits. So, when I turned eighteen, I walked away from her and never looked back. I put myself through college with loans and jobs, met my six best friends, and never looked back. I stayed a virgin to stop myself from ending up like my mom, alone with a child, depending on a man to make me happy and take care of me. “A fat lot of good that did me, huh, alien?” I rub my non-existent belly before getting dressed.
Walking out the door, I know I should eat, but I am too scared to, so I don’t. The car ride is plagued with fear now that it hit me. See, I have known about the baby for about two weeks, but I was feeling fine, and nothing had changed, so I could ignore it. Then, the floodgates opened Saturday morning, and all hell broke loose. I have been trying to cope all weekend and find a solution or something to help, so I can make it through work without anyone finding out. Nothing has worked. Crackers, ginger ale, nothing. The thing is, I don’t know how my boss would react to this. This will undoubtedly interfere with my job, and right now, I cannot afford to lose it. So yeah. I am terrified.