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“Although I do have to warn you.”
“About what?”
“If I want to get to you, there isn’t a door in existence that would keep me out.”
I swallow, my throat going dry. “You’re scaring me.”
“Yeah, but you like it.”
Yes.
God, yes. I do.
And I hate that he knows that.
Switching gears, I say, “It was obscene. The way you were staring at me.”
“Was it?”
“Yes. It was like…”
“Like what?”
“Like you were imagining things.”
“What things?”
I lick my lips. “Me…”
“You.”
“Pregnant.”
“Pregnant.”
“W-with your baby.”
“With my baby.”
As always whenever he says that I have to clench my eyes shut and really tighten my belly. Against the onslaught of emotions that run through me. And good thing I’m lying down because I also have to contend with getting weak in the knees and a pulse in between my legs.
Opening my eyes, I somehow ask, “Were you?”
His voice is raspy as he replies, “I was.”
I swallow then.
Trying to keep breathlessness away from my tone. Trying to keep the need to see him buried.
This is business.
Just business.
And revenge.
God, I hate revenge. I hate that I’m doing this.
“Well, I’m not pregnant yet.”
“No, not yet,” he agrees.
“So then —”
“Soon though.”
He says it like a promise that sounds like a threat.
An even bigger threat than him claiming to be a criminal kidnapper.
“Well, we don’t know that,” I tell him. “I mean, we’re just trying and —”
“No, we know that.”
“We know that?”
“Yes, we do.”
I frown. “How?”
“Because it’s me.”
“So?”
“And I’ve got a superior dick.”
That completely gives me a pause. “What?”
“So you lucked out,” he says and the thing that is still giving me pause is the fact that he sounds serious.
Absolutely.
“You’re serious.”
“Do I sound like I’m joking?”
“You actually think you have a superior dick.”
“I’m a better soccer player than most. Arguably the best. Always have been. I’ve got a better body than most, always did. Of course my dick’s superior.”
Oh my God, he’s really crazy, isn’t he?
I don’t know whether to laugh or smack his arrogant face.
Or just kiss the fuck out of him.
But wait, that’s not even the worst part, is it?
“And I lucked out?”
“Well, I don’t like to brag but —”
I prop myself up on my elbows. “You don’t like to brag?”
He exhales sharply and completes his sentence. “But yeah, you lucked out.”
“I can’t believe how arrogant you are. That’s such a guy thing to say.”
“I’m a guy, aren’t I? And I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve got a phenomenal dick.”
I roll my eyes. “Oh please.”
“But of course, it’s not just me, is it? It’s you too.”
“Oh, I’m so glad you realize that.”
“And I know you’ve got a super fertile pussy.”
At this, I completely sit up. “What?”
“I’ve seen it, remember?”
“I don’t —”
“All pink and ripe.” Then, “Juicy.”
“Oh my God, can we not talk about my p-pussy?”
“I know it gets wet. Just like that. But I bet it’s super tight too.”
“Well, thank you very much but —”
“Yeah, you should thank me,” he says in a growly voice, as if he’s mad at me.
For having a tight pussy.
“You —”
“Because I’m the one who’s going to put a baby in your belly, and trust me, there’s going to be one. But I’m also the one who’s going to make sure you like it.”
“L-like what?”
“Your first time.”
“My f-first time?” I whisper.
As if I don’t know.
As if it didn’t occur to me.
But honestly it didn’t. I mean I knew it was going to be my first time, but I’ve been so focused on everything else, my plan and revenge and a baby — his baby — that I hadn’t made the connection. I hadn’t thought about how along with so many other significant things that are happening, there’s yet another thing as significant as the rest of them.
My first time.
I’ll be losing my virginity.
To him.
Like I’d dreamed about ever since I saw him.
“Yeah,” he rasps. “Which I hear is hard on a girl. And a girl your size, it’s going to be ten times harder.”
It makes me clench my thighs but this time, there’s a little fear involved too. “Y-you don’t know that.”
“Fuck yeah I know that.”
“But I…” I fist the sheet, clenching and unclenching my thighs. “I still have a day left.”
I told him about my ovulation window and strangely, he agreed to let me run the show and wait.
“Look at the clock, Firefly,” he drawls and my eyes fly over to the digital clock sitting on my nightstand. “It’s midnight. Meaning your time’s up.”
My heartbeats jack up and I blurt out, “B-but I… I can still back out.”
“No you can’t.”
I don’t mean it. Not at all.
But still I say it, “I can. I still get a choice.”
“No, you don’t.”
“But —”
“You had a choice. A week ago. But you blew it.”
“I-I don’t understand.”
“You chose to tell me about your dream.”
“And?”
“And now that I know what you want, what you dream of, you’re getting it. And I’m the one giving it to you. I’m the one who will make sure to give it to you. I’ll move the sky and stop the earth; I’ll tear down the ground and part the seas to give you what your heart desires. So you had a choice, Firefly, but you don’t anymore. Now in a few hours, you’ll pack a bag and you’ll come with me. And I’m going to make your dreams come true.”
