Gentleman Nine

by Penelope Ward

  “I want to fuck you hard right now.”

  Bending her head back to welcome my mouth on her neck, she begged, “Please.”

  Fuck if I knew how to stop this from happening against my better judgment. Amber was my kryptonite.

  She squealed in surprise as I lifted her up and carried her to the bedroom. Can’t say I’d ever carried a girl before. It made me feel kind of like a barbarian. She was light as a feather in my arms as I carefully laid her down on the bed.

  Ripping open the condom as fast as I could, I felt my body shaking from the urge to be inside of her.

  Hovering over her, I took a few moments to stare at her face. The need in her glassy eyes was the best foreplay as far as I was concerned. And then watching her eyes roll back when I finally sank into her body was just about the most amazing fucking thing I’d ever witnessed.

  Her tight pussy felt incredible as she took me in. I didn’t want to hurt her, but there was no way I could go easy tonight.

  As if Amber could sense my apprehension, she whispered, “It’s okay. I can take it.”

  That was all the assurance I needed to move freely at the pace I wanted. She screamed out in pleasure as I rammed into her. She bucked her hips, gripping my ass to push me in even deeper. The headboard was banging against the wall.

  “I’ll never forget how this feels, Channing.”

  “You’d better not,” I growled.

  She was sucking and biting my bottom lip as I continued to pound into her.

  This…this was the best sex I’d ever had in my life. It felt different from any other experience: wetter, tighter, more intense.

  As I thrust into her while I came, she writhed under me and trembled. The sounds of our mutual pleasure echoed throughout the room.

  Collapsing down onto her, I thought about how fast I could make dinner so we could come back for round two. My rules were officially out the window.

  When we finally came down from our high, I asked, “Are you okay? I was going a little hard on you.”

  “That was the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had,” she admitted.

  “It’s funny you say that…because I was just thinking that it was the single best sex of my life, too.”

  I carefully pulled out of her. While disposing of the condom, I felt my heart stop. The rubber didn’t look right; in fact, my entire dick was sticking out of it—bare. My cum wasn’t inside of the condom; it was inside of Amber.

  I froze.

  This had never happened to me before, and I’d had a lot of opportunities. Never—not once—had a condom broken on me.

  Amber noticed that I hadn’t moved from my spot by the wastebasket. “Is everything okay?”

  Staring blankly at the wastebasket, I answered, “No.”

  “Channing…”

  Just say it.

  “The condom broke.”

  “What?”

  “There’s no rubber around my dick. It broke. I’m sorry.”

  She hopped up out of bed as fast as a bolt of lightning and ran to the bathroom before closing the door.

  I spoke through the barrier, “I’m assuming you’re not on the pill.”

  “No…I got off of it some time ago because I had a really bad reaction to it.”

  “Shit. Okay.”

  Think.

  Think.

  Think.

  Pray.

  Think.

  No wonder it had felt so good; I was fucking her raw and didn’t even know it. Not knowing what to do, I stayed by the bathroom door until she opened it.

  Wrapping my hands around her face, I asked, “Are you alright?”

  “I hope so.”

  “I’m really sorry that happened. This is the first time that’s ever happened to me.”

  Amber just kept nodding. “We’ll be okay. The chances are…” She looked up, seeming to be struggling with what to say. There was simply no way to know yet if we were in trouble.

  I was doing the math in my head. It had been a couple of weeks since Amber had her period. “Do you know when you’re…fertile?”

  She grabbed her phone and seemed to be calculating something.

  “It says there’s a window, and today is smack dab in the middle of the ovulation period.”

  Fuck.

  You’ve got to be kidding me.

  She sighed. “It says I have to wait seven to ten days after ovulation to take an accurate test.”

  Not knowing what else to say, I pulled her into me. “It’ll be okay.”

  I’d be praying to God that I was right.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  * * *

  AMBER

  Annabelle was listening to my pregnancy fear woes as I walked and talked on my way home from work. So preoccupied, I’d nearly slammed into three different people.

  “Are you sure you can’t just take the test now?” Annabelle asked.

  “I’m positive. It’s too early, and I don’t want to have to go through it twice.”

  “Okay. It’s probably fine. It was just one time. Try not to worry about it unless you have to.”

  “Easier said than done, but okay.”

  As I approached my building, I stopped dead in my tracks upon the sight of a woman who was sitting on the steps, looking like she was waiting for someone.

  “Annabelle, I’ll call you back,” I said before hanging up the phone.

  This wasn’t just any woman. It was Christine Lord, Channing’s mother.

  What was she doing in Boston, and was she even fit to be here?

  My heart was beating like crazy as I just observed her for a while. She was looking around and hadn’t noticed me yet.

  Where’s her boyfriend?

  Forcing my feet forward, I finally got her attention. “Christine?”

  She stood up suddenly. “Amber?”

  Still utterly confused, I embraced her.

  “Are you waiting for Channing? He didn’t mention you were coming.”

  “He’s going to be so mad that I’m here.”

  My eyes widened. “He doesn’t know you’re here?”

  “No. He wouldn’t let me come if I asked him first.”

  “What made you come to Boston?”

  Her eyes welled up. “Fred left me. He said he couldn’t handle things the way they are anymore. I didn’t know where else to turn. So, I booked a flight. I didn’t want to be alone. At the airport, I just gave the cabbie your street number that Channing had written down before he left and here I am.”

  Swallowing my worry, I tried to remain cheerful for her sake as I waved my hand toward the door. “Well, let’s get you inside. It’s cold. Come. Please.”

  My nerves were rattled. Channing was not going to be happy about this.

  I made Christine some hot tea, and we sat for a while, catching up. She asked me not to call Channing at work. She didn’t want him to feel like he had to come home. I was happy and relieved to see that from what I was observing, she didn’t seem like she was losing her mind. That gave me hope that maybe things weren’t as bad as I’d imagined them to be.

  I filled her in on my teaching assistant job, on working with Milo, and she was asking me how my parents were. Things seemed pretty normal. It was actually really good to see her; she reminded me of my childhood.

  Later, Christine followed me into the kitchen, looked me in the eyes and asked, “What is it that you do?”

  “Huh?”

  “For work?”

  I froze. An hour ago, we’d spent several minutes talking about my job. It was then that I saw firsthand what Channing had been referring to.

  My heart broke as I began to explain to her what I did for a living as if it were the first time. She enthusiastically listened as I told her the same story all over again.

  As we remained in the kitchen, I heard the front door open and braced myself for Channing’s reaction to seeing his mother standing there. I could hear him talking to Kitty.

  When he walked in, his eyes practically bugged
out of his head. “Mom? What are you doing here?”

  “Surprise?” She smiled awkwardly.

  “Yes, it is, and not a good one. You shouldn’t be here. Where’s Fred?”

  “Fred broke up with me.”

  Channing’s ears were turning red. “He what?” A vein popped out in his neck.

  “He left me. He said he couldn’t handle things at home anymore. He sent your Aunt Laura over to stay with me for a few days. She left to go food shopping, and I snuck away, headed to the airport.” She shrugged. “And here I am.”

  He looked irate. “How could Fred have not told me he walked out on you? I would’ve come home right away.”

  “He said he was going to call you.”

  “Well, he sure as fuck didn’t.” Channing rushed away.

  I began to follow him. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m calling Fred to rip him a new asshole.” He looked back at me. “Just go stay with my mother, please? Make sure she doesn’t come in while I’m talking to him.”

  “Sure.”

  Ten minutes later, he returned to the kitchen. His ears were still red, and he did not look happy.

  “What did he say?” I asked.

  “Apparently, he sent me this long, rambling email that never got to me because he misspelled my fucking email address. He just forwarded it to me. I don’t even care what he has to say. The end result is the same.”

  Channing walked over to Christine and pulled her into a hug, which warmed my heart and made me incredibly sad at the same time.

  “Are you okay, Mom? I’m sorry I didn’t ask that first.”

  “Not really. But I’m better now that I’m here.”

  He looked her up and down. “You look like you could use a bath.”

  “I could.” She laughed.

  “Let me go draw you one.”

  Channing got Christine set up in the bathroom. I gave him one of my Lush bath bombs for her. Once she was soaking in the tub with a magazine, he came back out to the living room.

  Running his hand through his hair, he looked at me and said, “This is bad, Amber. This is really bad.”

  “You didn’t see this coming so soon? Him leaving her?”

  “I saw it coming. I was just hopeful that he’d stick around a little longer. And my aunt isn’t going to be able to stay there beyond tomorrow. I just got off the phone with her. She just told me she has to have surgery in two days. She lives two hours away. I have to figure something out.”

  “Can she stay alone during the day?”

  “She has been. Fred worked, so yeah. But he was always home by four, and sometimes he worked from home. The neighbor would look in on her from time to time, too.” He grabbed my hand and our fingers intertwined. His voice was shaky. “I really don’t want to leave, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to.”

  Panic set in. I wasn’t ready for him to go. And in my mind, there really wasn’t a reason that he had to. The wheels in my head were turning.

  I didn’t even have to think twice when I asked, “Why can’t she stay here with us? Your contract isn’t for much longer.”

  “I can’t burden you like that, Amber.”

  “The only burden would be on you. She’d get your bedroom. There would be no burden on me.”

  He shook his head. “It would be too much.”

  “On whom? Not on me.” I squeezed his hand. “Besides, I really don’t want you to leave.”

  His voice was hoarse. “I don’t want to leave, either.”

  “It’s settled, then. Stay. I get home early enough to keep an eye on her in the later afternoon. I can change my hours with Milo to have them start later for a while. Then, there’ll be no gap between the time each of us gets home.”

  Hope filled his eyes. “Are you sure about this?”

  “It’s just a matter of weeks. Of course, I am.”

  Channing pulled me into the hardest kiss. It felt like my lips were going to fall off.

  “You’re amazing. I can’t thank you enough for this.”

  “It will be okay. You’ll figure out a situation that works long term, too. Somehow, it will all work out.”

  We sat quietly for a bit as I lay my head on his chest, feeling like I’d averted one small battle only to have to face another when his contract inevitably ended. This was definitely bittersweet.

  He gently caressed my hair. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.”

  He looked hesitant to ask, “Are you still concerned about…you know…”

  The past few hours were actually the first time I hadn’t dwelled on my pregnancy fears.

  “I’m trying not to think about it until I can take the test.”

  “Good thinking. I’m so sorry that happened.”

  “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. It will be fine. I know it.”

  “Yeah.” He smiled, although he looked nervous.

  Christine emerged from the bathroom dressed in my robe. It was the first time I realized she didn’t have a bag with her. She hadn’t brought any clothing.

  “Mom, what do you think about staying here a few weeks until my contract is up? I really can’t leave my job yet. I’d like to stay and finish up my responsibilities. You can stay in my room.”

  “Where will you sleep?”

  “The couch. It’s fine.”

  She turned to me. “Are you sure, Amber?”

  “I would love to have you. Honestly, I get lonely without people around.”

  “Me, too. It’s why I had to come here,” she said.

  “I totally get it, Christine.”

  After Channing whipped up dinner for the three of us, his mother said, “You know, Channing’s father used to love to cook bizarre foods. He used to do it to entertain the kids when they were younger. ‘Guess what Daddy’s making.’ It was sort of a game. Of course, there wasn’t much time with him before he left us. But I think that’s where Channing gets it from.”

  He didn’t respond, but I could tell by the look on his face that he was surprised and upset by the discovery of that correlation. That definitely broke my heart. Whether he realized it or not, in some odd way, maybe he was trying to connect with his father or the memory of him through food. The more time I spent with Channing, the more complex I realized he was.

  Christine suddenly stood up from the table. “Channing, can you show me to my room?”

  “Yeah, Mom. Of course.”

  I cleaned up the kitchen while Channing got his mother situated in his bedroom.

  The feel of his arms around my waist from behind prompted me to stop drying a dish. He kissed my neck. When I flipped around to face him, the worry in his eyes was palpable.

  “She kept asking me questions about what happened with Fred, like she wasn’t sure. She’s confused. And I’m scared shitless.”

  I wasn’t sure whether to admit my own experience with her but ultimately decided to tell him.

  “Earlier, she asked me what I did for a living after we’d been talking about it for a while prior to that. So, I really got to see firsthand what you were talking about.”

  “Yeah. That’s exactly the kind of thing that happens. All of the time.” He closed his eyes momentarily and buried his hands in his hair. “The worst is when she realizes how confused she is, and she just looks at me and tells me she’s scared. There’s honestly nothing worse than that. Nothing, Amber. I almost wish she didn’t realize it.”

  “I wish I could do something to help.”

  “You already are…just by being here for me.”

  Really wanting to sleep with him tonight, I said, “I feel kind of weird making you sleep on the couch.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “Would you want to sleep with me in my bed?”

  A smile slowly spread across his face. He arched his brow. “Do you even have to ask?”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure if we were still playing by the rules.”

  “My mother is living with us, and there’s a small chan
ce you could be pregnant with my child. I’d say the rules went out the window a long time ago.”

  Maybe that should have made me want to cry, but I couldn’t help but laugh.

  He followed close behind me as we made our way to my bedroom.

  In bed later that night, he spoke against my back. “Can I tell you a secret?”

  “Yeah?”

  Channing pulled me closer. “The thought that you could be pregnant with my baby turns me on.”

  “Really?”

  “Don’t get me wrong…I know it would be a nightmare for us right now, but…the idea that I could’ve knocked you up definitely makes me a little crazy…in a good way.”

  “What would we do, though, honestly…if I was?”

  “We’d figure it out.”

  “You wouldn’t be upset?”

  “Upset is not the right word. Scared, yeah. But upset? No. Maybe because it’s you.” He paused then squeezed me from behind. “You make me happy, Amber.”

  His words left me speechless. The idea that he would actually accept the possibility of my being pregnant with his child was not something that I’d considered.

  Turning around and touching my forehead to his, I said, “You make me happy, too.”

  I truly was—for the first time in a long time.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  * * *

  RORY

  Boris stocked his shelves ever so slowly while I sat with my feet kicked up on a chair. His hand trembled as he placed a can of Campbell’s Cream of Mushroom soup inside the grainy wooden cabinet of his dated kitchen. With a porcelain sink, Formica countertops, and linoleum floors, Boris’s kitchen had a 1950’s vibe going on. I felt like I was in a time warp.

  I’d go food shopping for my elderly neighbor once a week after work. He’d pay me back by pouring me the best glass of Cognac. And I’d get fucked-up. Best part of the week if you asked me.

  “One of these nights, Rory, you’re gonna get drunk as a skunk and finally tell me what happened.”

  I let out a single laugh. “I know not what you speak of, Boris.”

  “Did she die?”

  “Who?” I pretended to not know whom he was referring to.

  “The pretty girl in the photo on your phone. The one with the smile that lights up her whole face. The one I’ve never seen around here because she’s either dead or long gone.”