by Lulu Pratt
The whole time, I move my hips back and forth over him. I don’t do it as vigorously as I usually do, and I don’t do it with as much force. It’s a natural movement. A passionate one. It’s making love, not having sex.
I don’t want to taste him in my mouth. And I don’t want to sit on his face. I want him to be inside of me. I want to feel his girth fill me up. I want him to be a part of me, even if it is only for a moment.
I lift up my body, allowing for him to slide his pants and boxers off. He is already hard. His big, fat erection sticks straight up. Usually, I would tease him. Usually, I would play with it, dance around it, and make it seem as if I weren’t going to sit on it. But I don’t do that this time.
I climb on Blake. He wraps his hands around my waist, and he guides me onto him. As he slides inside of me, I moan softly. I tilt my head back, and he kisses my neck. It feels so good, even better than when he’s rough with me.
Once he is inside of me, I begin to move on him. I move slowly, rhythmically. I’m not bouncing up and down as I usually do, but instead, I listen to his breathing and feel his heartbeat. I move to the rhythm of his body. The two of us kiss as I do, and he massages my breasts. It feels incredible and is better than any other time the two of us have had sex.
As the two of us come, we kiss in the moment of climax. We don’t scream or moan together, but lock lips and savor each other’s company. I am so happy that this is the man I am having a baby with. But more than that, I am sure now that he likes me as much as I like him. And after tonight, after this, I like him more than ever.
Chapter 31
BLAKE
As I hold the phone to my ear and listen to the ring, I quickly work out in my head what I am going to say. Well, I am trying to anyway, but I am failing miserably at it. The phone call is to Carrie and the reason for calling her seems to change every few seconds.
I want to see her again. I haven’t seen her since Tuesday, when we had that incredible sex. No. Calling it sex is degrading to what it was. It was more akin to making love than anything else.
It was passionate and personal on every level. There was no raw emotion like usual, but love and a connection, the likes of which, I have never felt before. And I am sure that she feels the same way.
Since that night, we have communicated only via texting, but that just isn’t enough. I want to hear her voice, and I want to see her. Not even to have sex again, but to be in her company.
“Blake? Hi!” She answers. Her voice is higher pitched than usual, and she sounds happy to be hearing from me.
“Hey,” I say, “How are you?” Shaking my head, I fall backward on my bed. Well, not my bed. I’m not actually at my house right now, but in a hotel room.
“I’m good,” she says. “How are you?”
“Good,” I say back. There’s a pause, and I can feel the tension mounting. I’m the one who called her, so I need to speak. Only, I don’t know what to say. “I was wondering what you are doing later?”
“I have to work,” she says, sounding dejected. “There’s a catering job I promised my boss I would cover.”
“You don’t sound too enthused,” I say, feeling myself perk up.
“Well, that’s because I’m not,” she says, laughing.
“So call in sick,” I say quickly “Come and see me instead.”
“See you?” She asks, sounding surprised.
“Yeah, I want to talk about some baby stuff. I have some things I need to go over with you that I don’t think I can do on the phone.”
It’s a lie and a pretty stupid one at that. But I find that I’m nervous to tell her the truth.
“Oh,” she says. “Well, I suppose I can call in sick.”
“Is that okay?”
“Yeah. I can do that,” she says, sounding a little more sure of herself. “As long as you show me a good time. It can’t be all business.”
“Fine.” I sigh in an exaggerated fashion. “I suppose I can take you out after.”
I do my best to sound as if it’s the last thing I want, although really, my heart is thumping inside my chest.
***
Once again, I have to work to not gape openly when I see her. I’m sitting in the café that we agreed to meet at. As she walks across the floor to me, she looks gorgeous. She wears a yellow Sunday dress that flows around her body. It also plunges at her chest, showing just the right amount of skin. I wonder how I got so lucky.
“Hey!” I beam as she reaches me.
“Hey.” She leans forward and goes to hug me. Instead, I put my hand on her back and pull her in for a kiss. She accepts willingly, looking a little surprised by the change, but not at all upset. “Did you miss me?”
“Maybe just a little,” I joke.
“So, what do you have in store for tonight? And do you think it can top last time?”
“Do you think that’s possible?” I ask with a smirk. I know I had a great time, and I’m certain that she did, too.
“Good point. How about we aim for something close to that? Topping it might be an impossibility.”
“I mean, I’m willing to try. But I’m also a realist.”
She smiles warmly at me, only confirming what I know to be true. She is falling for me as hard as I am for her. “Say, Blake, I’m surprised that you are here already. I thought I’d beat you easily. What? Were you already in the area?”
“Not exactly,” I say, looking away from her for the first time since she entered the café.
My reason for being here is linked to my reason for having a hotel room booked. I had hoped that she might not ask. I don’t know how she will take it.
“Okay, so are you going to tell me or do I need to guess? I’m open to either.”
“Fine,” I relent. “I rented a hotel room close by. There.”
“What? Why?”
“Because,” I say before pausing. I shake my head, suddenly feeling foolish. “You have to promise not to laugh, but it’s because my house is a little too far away from yours, and I want to be closer to you, in case anything happens with the pregnancy. I don’t like the idea of having to drive for thirty minutes to be with you.”
I am not usually like this. I’m embarrassed by the sentiment, and it is silly of me. And for a moment, I worry that she is going to think the same thing. But, to my surprise, she reaches across the table and takes my hand. And only when I look at her does she kiss the back of it.
“Thank you,” she says and she looks a bit like she has tears in her eyes. And she kisses the back of my hand again.
Chapter 32
CARRIE
The two of us are having a simple dinner. It’s at an old restaurant, not too far from where Blake and I met at his high-school reunion. The restaurant looks like the kind of place that has been around for longer than the two of us have been alive. They mostly serve burgers and ribs, and the only drink options are beer and water.
“My friends and I used to come here every Friday night,” Blake explains as he leads me to our table. The tables are all old plastic sets which, again, look older than either both our ages put together. “It wasn’t quite as run down then.”
“No, it’s quaint,” I say optimistically, wondering why in the hell he has brought me here. I’m not a snob, but it is an odd choice of location.
“I was thinking. You’ve really only seen me from one side. The rich, arrogant side. I wanted to show you where I came from. If you’re going to be having my child, I figure you deserve that.”
Now I understand. It’s not the restaurant that he wants to show me, but himself. I always forget that, like me, he had a difficult upbringing and is actually a down-to-earth kind of guy. This is further proven when the waiter comes out and recognizes Blake. They talk like old friends, and the waiter snatches the menu away, stating that he is going to have the kitchen make us something special.
It’s a side of Blake that I have never seen, and one that I like just as much as the other. Maybe tonight will be even better than th
e previous date?
***
“And where is this?” I ask as Blake leads me across the empty parking lot. “Your old make-out spot?”
We’re only a few minutes’ drive from the restaurant, along the coast. I guess it’s the parking lot to a beach, one long abandoned.
“It’s where my friends and I used to hang out on weekends, before the place became rundown and forgotten.”
He still has a hold of my hand, and as we crest the parking lot, the smell of salt water wafts through my nostrils. The sound of waves lapping at the shore also appears as if from nowhere. As I look down, I spot the coastline.
“So, I was right,” I chime in. “It is your old make-out spot.”
“Only sometimes, I had a lot of spots to choose from,” he jokes. “Now come on.”
He lets go of my hand and sprints down the old wooden steps and onto the beach. I laugh at how enthusiastic he is, and I follow.
The sand is coarse on my feet, but I love the feeling. I follow him along the beach to the water’s edge, where he has stopped. He stares out across the water, and the moonlight bathes itself over him. He turns and waves me over.
“I can’t believe how long it has been since I was here last,” he says as I walk to his side. I reach him and take his hand in mine. “It’s got to have been more than fifteen years now.”
“What?” I ask, surprised. “Why so long?”
He pauses for a moment and looks back out across the water. There is a look in his eyes that I don’t recognize. Is it pain?
“The last time I was here was with my high-school sweetheart. And that was also the time she broke up with me.”
“Oh,” I say simply, surprised by the admission.
“Yeah. I thought we were in love. You know how it is in high school? But she dumped me and then I never saw her again.”
“And you never tried to see her again?” I ask.
I don’t know why I ask that. I know that he didn’t and I know that his story is a lie.
“No, she is dead.” He sounds remorseful as he speaks, and for a second, I almost believe him. “It happened a few months ago. I couldn’t believe it when I heard a few weeks later. I always saw her as the one who got away, and a part of me always thought I would see her again. But now… I’m sorry. You probably don’t want to hear any of this.”
He’s right. I don’t. In fact, it actually makes me a little angry, and I can feel myself starting to run hot. How dare he say such things, pinning it on my sister? And how dare he act now like he was the one who was the victim? After what he did?
I have to work to control my anger. I can feel it bubbling up inside of me.
“That’s too bad,” I say coldly as I look out across the water. I don’t look at his face. If I do, he will probably see the anger etched across it.
“Yeah, it is,” he agrees. “But no matter. I have you now.” He still has my hand, and he lifts it up and kisses the back of it. I seethe. “Is everything okay?”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” I say pleasantly, trying my best to not let him know how I am feeling.
Even I don’t really know how I am feeling. Angry, yes. But also confused. It’s a fight between my loyalty to my sister and my feelings for Blake. Until recently, I could almost lie to myself and say that the two hadn’t dated, and I was mistaken. But now that he has said it openly to me, I can ignore it no longer. And I have no idea how to feel.
I am bad company the rest of the night. Blake does most of the talking, and I smile and nod. A few times, he tries to kiss me, but I make some sort of excuse as to why he can’t. I swat away at a fly or pretend to sneeze.
When the awkwardness becomes too much, he suggests that he take me home, and I agree. I don’t want to stay in his company any longer tonight. Not until I have a chance to think over everything.
The car pulls up in front of my apartment, and I can feel the tension. He turns off the car and turns to look at me. I try my best to avoid his eyes.
“Well, good night,” he says, and he leans in to kiss me.
“Goodnight,” I say hurriedly, and instead I reach for the door handle, pop it open and jump out before he has a chance to say or do anything.
I need to be away from him. I need time to think. I don’t know what I should be feeling, but I do know that it isn’t good. I just hope that tomorrow, everything will be clearer. But as I walk to my front door, open it and enter my lonely, empty apartment, I realize that isn’t going to be the case.
Chapter 33
BLAKE
I stare at my phone and wonder if I should call.
I have not spoken to Carrie all week. Not since our date last Saturday. The date itself started off great. The idea was to show her a different side of me, one who isn’t this rich guy. And I was sure that it was working. She seemed to be having a great time.
Then it all went to hell.
I still can’t bring myself to call.
I have spent the whole week going over that night in my head, trying to decipher what went wrong, but I just can’t figure it out. Did I say something, do something? Did I not do something?
One minute, we were laughing and having a good time, and the next, she was cold as ice. I think of that look she gave me as she got out of my car. It was a look of hate.
I hope that is in the past, though. I have spent the week convincing myself that she was just in a mood or upset over something else. Consequently, I have spent the week avoiding contact, letting her cool down.
But today is an important day, and I have no choice but to see her.
Today is the first day that she is potentially able to take the pregnancy test. Usually, it doesn’t happen this fast, but I made a few phone calls and got a hold of a very expensive, off-the-market test. The two of us were going to do it together.
We had spoken about it often, but that was before last week. Now that I haven’t heard from her, I can only assume that she hasn’t taken the test yet and is waiting for me. If she even expects me to be coming over at all.
The phone is still in my hand. I sigh to myself and put it in my pocket. I’m not going to call her. That is too impersonal.
I stand up from the edge of my bed, and I make my way through the hotel room to the front door. I am going to see her instead. Face to face. I just hope that by now, she has cooled off.
***
Today, her apartment looks even more run down. I’ve been sitting in the car, watching it for the last five minutes. By my side, I have a bouquet of flowers, coffee and donuts.
I was going to get her chocolate cake, but I thought that might have been a little too obvious. A little too manipulative. Instead, I have settled for a different treat. Really, I am just trying to ensure that she is in a good mood.
Taking a deep breath, I reach for the door handle, pop it open and climb from the car. The walk to her front door feels like it takes forever. It’s only a short walk, but with every step, I remember that look on her face, and I shake my head as if trying to dislodge the memory.
Reaching the door, I knock twice. Two hard and firm knocks. I can hear movement from inside. I brace myself as the door opens.
“Oh, hey,” Carrie says with a half-smile.
“Hey,” I respond. “I brought you these.” I hold out the flowers, coffee and donuts.
“Wow, thanks. You didn’t have to.” Her voice isn’t as cold as it was the other night, but it isn’t as warm as it used to be, either. There is definitely some tension here. I can feel it.
“I wanted to,” I assure her. “May I come in?”
“Oh, right.” She shakes her head and steps to the side. I walk into the apartment, feeling slightly better about the situation.
“So, today is the day,” I say as I make my way to the kitchen. Reaching it, I put the coffee and donuts down on the counter and begin to search through the cabinets for a vase. “Do you have anything for the flowers?”
“I doubt it,” she calls to me. She’s in the bed area, doing God know
s what. Usually, I wouldn’t give it a second thought, but today, it feels like she is avoiding me on purpose.
“Well, I’ll have to buy you a vase, too,” I say with a smile.
She isn’t looking at me and, therefore, does not see it.
“You really don’t have to do that. But hey, I’m surprised that you remembered today.”
She walks from her bed to the kitchen area. She scoops up the coffee, which she takes a long, satisfied sip from.
“Really?” I ask with a frown. “How could I forget? It’s a pretty big deal. You haven’t, you know. You haven’t tried yet have you?”
“You actually got here just in time,” she says, offering me a weak smile. “I was going to. I wasn’t sure if you were coming around, and we haven’t spoken, so…”
The tension in the room mounts as she makes the first reference to the other night on the beach. I feel as if she wants to talk about it. And I do too. Well, kind of. I want to know why she got so angry, but I’m also afraid I won’t like the answer. So instead, I deflect.
“And it isn’t too early?” I ask. “The test will be accurate?”
“According to the packet,” she says, and she looks relieved at my change in the topic. “I mean, you’re the one who bought them, but the packet says it’s ninety-six percent accurate, six days before a missed period. Well, yeah, it should work.”
“Good,” I say, nodding my head to myself. “So, shall we? I mean, shall you?”
“Sure,” she says, smiling awkwardly. She turns and heads to the bathroom.
When she does, I stumble to the couch and fall into it. I can’t believe how awkward this is now. Up until the previous week, the two of us were getting along so great. The idea of having a baby together seemed the most natural thing in the world.
Now, it feels as if I am doing it with a total stranger. I just hope that once she takes the test, and if it is positive, we can move on and forget that the whole thing ever happened. I just want it to be like it was before.