by Paula Mabbel
She grabbed a turkey sandwich and a bag of potato chips and went to sit at a table with a few of her colleagues.
They all had private practices, each with different specialties, but saved on overhead costs by pooling their money and operating out of the same building.
One of her colleagues, Penny, a child psychologist, was talking to them again about selling her practice and getting out of the business.
Abigail had ignored the news running in the background until she heard mention of the NFL. Suddenly, she perked up and turned to face the TV.
Of course she already knew that Jackson had aced his tryout and had been drafted. But still she couldn’t help but smile when his face came up on the TV.
One of her other colleagues, Jessica, who sat next to her perked up suddenly as well. Abigail resisted the urge to give her the side eye. Jackson was a handsome man after all. It would be silly to think no one else would notice him.
She began to daydream. The last few months had been the best of her life.
“That’s one of your clients isn’t it? Jackson Blake?” Jessica asked, pointing at Jackson on the television.
“Yes.”
Jackson Blake. My client. My man.
Abigail thought Jessica had given her a funny look but didn’t say a word. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to the situation.
After lunch, she went back to her office to sort out some paperwork. If she hurried, she could still leave early and maybe surprise Jackson with some dinner. And dessert.
She was getting ready to leave for the day when her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Abigail.” It was Melinda. She was the most senior of her colleagues and for all intents and purposes, she ran things there.
“Hi, Melinda. You caught me on my way out.”
Melinda’s voice was curt on the other end. “Stop by my office please.”
“Sure.”
Abigail had a funny feeling in her stomach. What was that all about? She grabbed her briefcase and shuffled out the door, making a beeline for Melinda’s office.
“Sit,” said Melinda when Abigail had let herself in. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
Abigail swallowed hard. “Nothing I can think of. Why?”
“Jackson Blake. He’s one of your pychiatric patients, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Are you dating?
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t be coy. Are you sleeping with him?”
“No,” Abigail lied.
Melinda looked down at her cell phone. “Then why did someone text me a picture of you two kissing in the park across the street?”
Abigail was speechless. Her worst fears had been realized.
“Can’t answer that, can you? I am so disappointed in you, Abby.”
Abigail’s heart sank. Melinda had mentored her early on in her career, had vouched for her, resulting in her getting high-profile cases she’d have never gotten on her own.
“You should know,” Melinda continued, “that an official investigation into your conduct has been launched. I recommended to the board that they suspend your license for the time being, so don’t bother coming in tomorrow.”
Abigail didn’t know what to say, so she grabbed her bag and left quietly.
Back at her apartment, she made herself some tea and sank into her bed, pulling the covers over her. She ignored Jackson’s call and drifted off to sleep.
A persistent knock on her door woke her the following morning. Thinking it was Jackson coming to check on her, she hopped up and went to answer it.
It wasn’t Jackson, but rather a tall, wiry man with slicked-back hair wearing an ill-fitting suit. “Abigail Fox?”
“Yes. That’s me,” she said warily.
He held out some folded up papers and without thinking, she opened her palm to receive them.
“You’ve been served,” he said and then walked away.
She couldn’t believe this. Abigail tore the papers open, and a fresh wave of nausea hit her. She was now facing a malpractice suit.
Tears started to fall from her face, and she took a deep breath to try to regain her bearings. She grabbed her phone and dialed her sister’s number for the first time in years.
“Has someone died?” her sister said when she picked up the phone.
Abigail sighed in relief. She had been half-expecting her not to answer.
“Astrid, I need your help.” Then she burst into tears.
“What’s wrong?”
Then she told her, let it all out. When she had finished, Astrid was silent on the other line.
“Say something,” Abigail shouted.
“You’ve really done it this time,” she said.
“Can you help me or not?” Abigail knew that she could. Astrid was the hottest of hot shot lawyers. If anyone could make this go away, it was her. So what she was really asking was, will you help me or not?
Astrid sighed. “I’ll come by tomorrow, and we’ll start preparing a defense.”
Abigail let out a breath. “Astrid…thank you…so much.”
“Don’t thank me yet.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Abby?”
“Yes?”
“Jackson.”
“Yeah. What about him?”
“If you want to win this case, dump him.”
Abigail spent the entire night sobbing. She didn’t know how she was going to break this to him, but she knew she couldn’t see him in person. She couldn’t look into his eyes. So she called instead.
“They can’t do this to you,” he said, his voice sounding rougher than she’d ever remembered it sounding. “Let me come over and talk to you.”
“No,” she sobbed into the phone. “You don’t get it, Jack. It’s over between us.”
“Over? Just like that?”
“Yes.”
“Abby…let me come and see you. We should talk.”
But she hung up before he could say anything else.
~
Jackson didn’t hear a word his coach had just said.
His team had just lost their third straight game, and coach was really letting them have it.
Jackson wasn’t listening, though. His mind was elsewhere.
The guys in the locker room shot him dirty looks but he didn’t care. He showered, packed his things and went home.
It was the bye week, so at least he’d have some time to think. Once he was at home, however, he could find no peace.
He knew what he needed, and he reached for his phone.
She picked up almost instantly. “Jackson?”
“I miss you,” he said, getting right to the point.
Silence on the other end. Then, “I miss you too.” Her voice sounded sad. “But you know you shouldn’t call me at this number. Any day now they could subpoena my phone records.”
Jackson gritted his teeth. He hadn’t called to talk about her case.
“I’m sorry,” she said, as if hearing his thoughts. “I don’t mean to keep bringing it up. What’s up with you, though? You need to break this losing streak.”
“You’ve been watching my games?”
“Of course I have. And you don’t seem like yourself.”
“Can I see you?”
“You know you can’t.”
“Please.”
“I want to…but we shouldn’t.”
“He nodded. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but she was right.
“Goodnight, Jackson.”
That night, Abigail settled in for some sleep but got up when she heard some rustling in the kitchen. She thought she’d be contending with a mouse and that she’d have to now get a cat but, to her surprise, it was Jackson standing there.
“What are you doing here?”
“I know you said not to come, but I had to see you.”
“How did you get in?”
“You never asked for your key back. Relax. No one saw me.”
“How can you be sure?”
He didn’t answer her; he only stepped closer until his face was inches from hers. Suddenly she stopped talking. He reached out and cradled her head between his hands. The warmth of his fingers gripping the back of her neck radiated through her, heat melting her strength. His eyes were locked on her, and the determination in them churned her stomach. She didn’t stand a chance because she wanted nothing more than to be trapped in his gaze all day.
She didn’t know who moved, but their lips collided and his hand tangled in her hair as his tongue swept into her mouth. Then his kiss slowed down, and he dropped his eyes.
“Please, I want you.” That was the full truth. She’d never been so certain of anything.
Then she was slammed to her back as he jerked her hips forward, pulling her legs around his shoulders. He lifted her hips off the bed as his hot mouth hit between her legs, his tongue splitting her open. Swirling, pulsing, carrying her on a high she couldn't escape. She couldn’t move besides gripping the sheets under her, only her head and shoulders on the mattress. He’d taken all leverage away, and she was helpless in his arms. But he expertly brought her to the edge of sanity, her skin dissolving and nerves heightened as everything scattered with a thrust of his tongue. Time stopped as waves crashed over her, drowning her with intensity.
Just when she thought she was about to explode, crying out with no air, he was up. Standing as he brought his hips between hers, still holding her in that position that gave him all the power. When he slid into her, her body bucked and snapped with the shock. With an ability beyond her, she was up in his arms. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, nails digging into his neck as she pressed into him. His skin was slick, and so was hers. They slipped against each other as he moved her up and down in rhythmic bounces. She moved against him, wanting more. Wanting harder. He showered her face in kisses, his breathy praise swirling around her, bleeding into unintelligible pants. “You feel so good… so tight… fuck…perfect…Abby…mine…perfect.”
He touched her everywhere, returning to the spots that made her heart race most. Their bodies flowed into each other, his nails dragging over her skin like fire, his pants quickening. The bed shook beneath her as he thrust into her, again, and again, and again. The power in his firm and trembling muscles filled her, and she clung to him, her skin needing his slick heat. Then she quivered, and he held her, slowly returning to normal as his body shook under her touch. He collapsed onto her, resting his head on her stomach, his large hands gripping her hips still. Neither of them moved. They couldn’t. The air was thick, a fog filled with the echoes of what they had done. The sensations still rippled under her skin. The room still spun as they lay exhausted, spent.
Abigail closed her eyes in a warm haze. His heartbeat was strong but fast under her ear. They lay for a while, their fingers outlining each other in soft trails as the air cooled around them. His heart slowed, and his breathing steadied. The hum of silence was soothing.
In the morning, he was gone.
~
It was now or never.
His team still had a chance to make it to the playoffs, and it would come down to this last play.
Jackson was focused. He knew what he had to do.
They had just come out of the huddle, and he had called the play. Right before he stepped onto the field, he looked into the stands.
There was Abigail, wearing his jersey. She smiled and waved at him, and he smiled back.
Then he threw a touchdown pass.
There was a knock on his door later that evening.
Abigail was standing there, still in the jersey. He smiled.
“Can I come in?”
He stepped aside so she could enter.
“That was a great game you played,” she said.
“Thank you.”
She sat. “Jack…I don’t even know where to start.”
He sat next to her. It was only then that he could fully appreciate the terrible situation she was in. But the fact that she was here was not lost on him either. “I don’t have all the answers,” he said. “I just know I want to be with you.”
“I want to be with you too. But – ”
He stopped her with a kiss. “Do you love me?” he asked when she broke away.
“I love you.”
He leaned in and kissed her again.
“And do you trust me?”
“I trust you.”
He leaned in and kissed her one more time. This time, she smiled.
“Then we’ll make it work.”
*****
THE END
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Here is a FREE bonus 8000 word romance story “The Russian Billionaire’s Baby” by B. Angelica Ellmoor.
The Russian Billionaire’s Baby
She was beginning to show.
It was funny how the fact that he was going to be a father in a short while had only just become real with the beginnings of a bump. The promise of a protrusion.
Alex looked across the room at his wife for what seemed like the first time. Or at least the first time in a very long time since he'd looked at her and felt the way he felt when he first saw her.
She was eating alone in a restaurant. She was the most striking thing he had ever seen, and he was instantly in love.
He was also very married.
Many years have passed, and they were not the same people they were then. They'd hurt each other in ways they would never have imagined.
But always they pushed on and got through it.
He was silent when she told him she was pregnant. The expression on his face didn’t even change. She looked at him nervously for a few moments and then said, "Alex, I swear it's your baby," her voice cracking.
It nearly broke his heart that she felt she had to say that. On some level, he needed to hear it.
Where had the bump come from?
It was almost like it appeared out of the blue for Alex. He thought maybe he just wasn’t paying attention this whole time.
She had on a gray dress. Alex had gotten home from a business trip. He originally said he wouldn't travel while she was carrying, but after awhile he had to get away.
She tiptoed around him these days, and so she was hesitant to even hug him when he came through the door. It started out as a routine hi-honey-I'm-home hug. But then she was squeezing him tighter, and she felt incredible in his arms, her rounded belly pressed up against him. He felt a warmth toward her that he hadn't felt in a long time.
And he kissed her.
But he meant it this time.
It wasn't some routine honey-I'm-home peck on the lips or cheek.
She blushed or at least he thought she did.
And then she went back to the dusting and general straightening she was doing. She wasn't always such an avid cleaner. Profuse house cleaning was a habit she adopted only in the past year or so. It was a way for her to remain busy and not pay attention to the fact that they weren't really talking.
Alex got himself situated, settled in.
Danielle was dusting the lampshades, every now and then looking up and giving him a nervous smile.
He felt a pang of guilt.
His wife was actually expecting him to snap at her about something or otherwise ignore her. Her back was toward him. His eyes traveled down her frame. She wore pregnancy extremely well, he thought as a smile came to his lips. Her already ample hips were decidedly more so, smooth and round.
She turned around, looked at him. She seemed somewhat startled by his smile, or maybe she was surprised. She blushed and smiled back.
He walked toward her and brushed his hands over her hair lightly. She jumped slightly, and he put my hand on her swelling waist to steady her.
“How had we go
tten here?” He wondered, “To the point where we can't even touch each other without feeling weird?”