by Lacey Black
Outside, the wind sweeping off the Bay is cooler and tastes of the salty sea. Even though I’m wearing a sweater, a chill races through me, peppering my skin with goose bumps. He doesn’t say a word as he leads me towards a blue Blazer with beefy wheels. It’s old and well used, but is in decent shape. You can tell he’s put some work and time into the old truck.
Without saying a word, he lifts me into the passenger seat and walks around to the driver’s side. I can feel the tension filling the truck as he pulls out of the lot and heads towards the apartment building. He doesn’t say a word the entire drive, his knuckles turning white as he chokes the steering wheel. I feel like I’ve done something wrong, but I haven’t a clue what.
Was it the kiss? Maybe he didn’t want me the way I thought he did. I mean, he was hard in his pants, but maybe that was just a reaction to having a woman crawl all over him. Maybe he realized it was me who was kissing him, and therefore, felt the need to put on the brakes.
Fine. Whatever.
I don’t have time for the sex anyway. I’m getting ready to knock myself up with donor number G45629’s sperm.
The closer we get to home, the worse I start to feel. Maybe those last few shots weren’t my best idea. Closing my eyes, I will my stomach to settle and my mind to stop spinning. With each turn and brake of the truck, I start to wonder if I’ll be able to make it to my bathroom before losing what little food I ate on my ride home from Richmond.
Ugh, this is horrible.
The darkness wraps around me, pulling me under, and I welcome it.
My last conscious thought is that I’m never drinking again.
* * *
The sunlight is peeking through the blinds of my bedroom window, my blankets a tangled mess around my legs. My entire body is heavy and my head pounding as I slowly rouse myself to a somewhat conscious state.
Why in the hell did I drink so much?
Groaning aloud, I rub my sleep-matted eyes and beg the pounding in my head to subside just enough to get a glass of water and some pain killers. When I finally crack open my heavy eyelids, I notice the painting on the wall is missing. What the hell? Did I get robbed and not realize it?
Glancing around, I notice Abby’s dresser is missing too! Frantically, I search for any sign of personal belongings and come up empty. I sit up and catch my first glance at navy blue sheets.
Not. My. Sheets.
Holy. Shit.
I’m in someone else’s bed.
The shirt I’m wearing isn’t my own. It’s big and roomy and frankly, smells fucking amazing. No. Wait, Lexi. I could have been abducted by some crazy person who dressed me in his clothes and is going to force me to feed him and his thirty-five cats with my toes, and all I can think about is how great the shirt smells.
Or maybe I had sex last night.
Oh. My. God.
I had sex last night and don’t remember it.
Great. My first sexual experience in about six months, and I have no clue who the guy is and if he was any good. It’s just my luck, ya know? I couldn’t get my husband to sleep with me and the one time I find someone willing to play hide the purple headed mushroom slinger with me, I have no recollection of the entire event. I mean, my luck the guy has an eight-inch shlong and I rode the flesh rocket all night long until I was boneless and spent from too many orgasms.
Then the door opens and a small scream slips from my lips.
“Settle down, Firecracker. You’ll wake the neighbors.”
Oh. My. God.
I slept with Linkin.
Chapter Ten
Linkin
She looks at me with bright green eyes that show a cross between horror and excitement. Her feet are all tangled up in my sheets (which is a complete turn on, by the way), her makeup is all over the place, kinda like she might have done full drag the night before, and her mouth is hanging open wide enough to catch flies.
And she’s fucking gorgeous.
“Here,” I say, stepping into my bedroom with a glass of ice water and two Tylenol. She’s still looking at me as if she’s seeing a ghost, but I guess waking up in a strange place will do that to a girl.
“Thanks,” she mumbles, keeping one eye on me while popping the little capsules into her mouth.
“So,” I start, glancing at her and feeling like a first class idiot for not really knowing what to say.
“So…” she mimics, looking at me expectantly.
“Sleep okay?”
“Ummm, yeah. I think,” she says, rubbing her head.
“That’s good,” I reply, popping my back. I didn’t sleep for shit last night since my couch is about two sizes too small for a guy of my stature. After about three a.m., I went into the twins’ room and tried to catch some sleep on the bottom bunk. But those damn things aren’t exactly comfortable for a guy six four. So the floor it was until I woke up so stiff and miserable that going back to sleep wasn’t gonna happen.
And I’m not even talking about what was happening in my pants.
I watch as she glances around, taking in the sparse decorations and shit in my room. I’m a simple man who doesn’t need pictures on the wall or bowls of fake fruit on the table. What’s up with that shit anyway?
She pulls her legs up to her chest, revealing the glorious swell of her ass. My dick waves hello. “So. Did we…you know?” she asks boldly, squaring her shoulders and sitting up straight.
“Did we what?” I ask, fighting the grin that threatens to fly.
“You know…”
“I don’t,” I respond, shaking my head as if confused.
“Don’t be obtuse.”
“Oh, that’s not an act, sweetheart.”
“Don’t call me sweetheart and just answer the question.”
“Did we…” I say, trailing off. I’m making her say it.
“Did we…have sex?” The words trail off as she glares at me.
“You don’t know?”
She opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. When she snaps it closed, she continues to glare at me from my bed as if she wants to skin me alive, and then tap dance on my rotting carcass. I’m so fucking turned on right now.
Unable to stand across the room any longer, I make my way to my bed. She tenses, her eyes widening, with each step I take. Coming to stand beside the bed, I reach down and lightly grasp her chin. “Firecracker, if we fucked last night I guarantee you’d remember it in the morning.”
Her gasp goes straight to my cock. She seems to try to compose herself, clearing her throat and keeping her eyes locked on mine. “And the shirt?”
“You changed before you passed out,” I tell her casually, letting go of her face, even though I want to continue to touch her. Her chin, her cheeks, her naked body. All of it.
I. Want. To. Touch. It.
“And did you at least turn around when I changed?”
“Now, Firecracker, how would that be fair? A naked chest for a naked chest,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest and giving her my best smirk. Smoke practically billows from her ears.
“Come on,” I tell her, turning and heading towards the door. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
And with that, I turn and head out of my bedroom. Not because I want to, but because if I don’t leave right now, I’m liable to crawl into bed with her and bury myself so deep inside of her, I’ll never want to stop. Because if I know one thing about Lexi Summer, it’s that one little taste won’t be enough. Like a drug, she’ll be my addiction.
And she will be mine.
Ten minutes later, Lexi joins me in the kitchen. She’s wearing the same red pants and black sweater she wore last night. The same clothes I saw her strip out of last night while she stood in the middle of my room. Yeah, I tried to turn away. She was trashed and I wasn’t about to take advantage, but as hard as I tried, my eyes just wouldn’t look away. And she knew it, too. She undressed slowly, shaking her hips and ass, knowing that my eyes were glued to her, en
joying the hell out of the show as she went.
“What’s that smell?” she asks, taking a seat at the old beat up table in the kitchen.
“French toast. I almost made eggs, but I always crave carbs after a night of drinking, so I took the chance that you’d do the same,” I say as I pull the pan of warm French toast from the oven.
“My God, I think I’m in heaven,” she says, her mouth practically watering as she gazes at the pan as if it were filled with diamonds.
“Eat up,” I tell her, secretly loving how happy she is. My brothers love French toast, which is why it’s one of the few things I know how to make.
She douses two pieces of bread in syrup and shovels half a piece into her mouth. She’s not a dainty eater, and that thought excites me. I’d rather have a woman who eats real food than one who pretends to get full off garnish.
“I think I love you,” she groans with her mouth packed full of food. I can’t help the laugh that slips from my lips.
“We should get married then,” I tell her casually, but the way she chokes on her food, I’m guessing she doesn’t find the humor.
“I don’t think so,” she says after swallowing. I almost audibly groan as I watch, but I suppress the noise.
“You’ll change your mind.” Shrugging my shoulders, I go back to eating my food.
“Doubtful,” she mumbles.
After breakfast, where we both scarfed down three slices of French toast, I collect the dirty dishes and set them in the sink. I can feel the nerves starting to set in, and I’m not really sure how to take that. I don’t get nervous, especially around women, but I find myself almost out of my element with this fiery little woman.
Oh, what do I have to be nervous about?
We’re getting to that.
“Thank you for breakfast. I’m gonna head out,” she says, pointing towards the door.
“Wait,” I say, grabbing her hand before she can run far, far away. That, and I really just like to touch her. Her skin is so soft and smells fucking amazing. “I want to talk to you about something.”
Leading her into the living room, we take a seat beside each other on the couch. Our knees touch, but she doesn’t pull away, which makes me smile a little on the inside. Of course I don’t show it. She’ll eat me alive. “What’s up?”
Clearing my throat, I just decide to put it all out there. “You want to have a baby, right?”
Alarm clouds her eyes as she gazes over at me. She’s on high alert and doesn’t say anything. Maybe she doesn’t remember telling me last night all about her desire to get knocked up, but there’s no way I could forget it. Especially after my idea started to grow roots.
“Yeah,” she whispers, her tone defensive and her foot tapping a heavy beat on the carpet.
“Well, I’ll give you a baby.”
She blinks once, twice, a dozen times. I don’t say anything else, but wait for her reply. My heart is pounding and my own desire to tap my foot is strong, but I hold off. Her eyes search my face, looking for something, but I’m not sure what. The she starts laughing. Like full-belly, rolling on the ground, grasping your stomach in side-splitting pain, kinda laughing.
“Oh my God, that was the best joke I’ve ever heard,” she says, wiping tears from under her eyes.
“I’m not joking, Lex.” Again, I wait for my words to sink in.
Slowly, her laughter subsides and her eyes change from humorous to serious to disbelief. “Of course you are. That was a joke,” she insists.
“Not even a little bit,” I confirm, giving her a smile. “You want a baby, and I can give you one.” Lexi starts to shake her head and opens her mouth to speak, but I cut her off. “Just wait a second. Hear me out.”
Standing up, I drop to my knees in front of her. Her eyes are wide with shock as she stares straight at me. “You need sperm, and well, I have some. Do you really want to have a baby with a turkey baster?”
“It doesn’t really matter how I get one,” she starts, stuttering.
“Of course it does. We’re doing this the old fashioned way, sweetheart.”
“We?” she asks, her eyebrows flying into her hair.
“We. You and me.”
“I can’t have a baby with you,” she stutters, spitting out her words and trying to back away from me.
“Of course you can. I’m insanely attractive and you can’t keep your hands off my body.”
That earns an eye roll. “You’re unbelievable.”
“I know,” I smirk. “Do you know how fucking awesome our kid would be?” I ask, feigning offense. That gets the smallest smile on those sexy lips. “Besides, you don’t have to pay for my sperm.”
“But we’d have to…you know,” she says, pointing back and forth between my chest and hers.
“We would. And I would enjoy the shit out of that part, Firecracker.”
“Wait a minute,” she says, standing up. “You’re telling me that you want to have a baby? With me?”
“Why not?” I ask, shrugging my shoulders.
“Because it’s…well, it’s just…I don’t know what it is exactly, but it shouldn’t happen. Oh my God, I can’t think straight,” she says, dropping her head into her hands. “This is crazy.”
“Listen,” I start, grabbing her hands and holding them firmly in my own. “You want a baby, right? It’s been your dream well before some fucking asshole ripped it away from you. So, let’s get you a baby.”
“How did you…” she starts, her cheeks staining pink.
“You told me as you were crawling into my bed.” That earns a blush.
“But, what am I going to tell my family?”
“Tell them we’re dating. Tell them you went to that sperm place. Tell them it was some random stranger who was insanely gorgeous with a massive cock. I don’t care.” That gets another smile. See? I could spend the rest of my life trying to make this woman smile just like that. It does weird things to my heart (amongst other body parts).
After several minutes where she seems to be lost in thought, she finally speaks. “What do you get out of this?”
“You mean besides the opportunity to take you to bed?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively.
“Yes, besides that. Why do this?”
Running my hand along the back of my neck, I turn and face the window. “I guess I’m just at the point in my life where I want to do something for me. I want to live my life under my terms, not someone else’s. I’m twenty-six years old and tired of having to deal with crap that has nothing to do with me. This? This baby would be my doing, under my terms. A part of me.”
“Do you want to be involved?” she asks, her voice quiet.
“Honestly, yeah. I’d love to fucking be involved. I know you planned to go at this alone, but this way, you’d always have someone to help you. A friend, so to speak, to share the load.”
“A friend?” she asks, giving me her own smirk.
“A friend who’s seen you naked,” I reply, getting smacked in the gut.
“You’re crazy,” she whispers, a small smile playing on her lips.
“Maybe, but I want to do this. If it were anyone else, I’d never offer. But with you? I don’t know what it is, but it feels right,” I tell her.
“But we barely know each other.”
“True, but I trust you not to fuck me over. I hope you feel the same.”
She hesitates for only a moment. “I do.”
“Then go home and think about it. You said you have to let the clinic know Monday, right?” She nods. “Well, take the day and think about it. If you’re not comfortable with it, then go about your original plan. But if you’re interested in my super amazing sperm, then it’s here, ready to go.”
Lexi’s laughter fills the living room and she gives me a smile. A big, genuine, makes my heart leap in my chest smile. “I’ll think about it,” she confirms before heading towards the door. Honestly, that’s all I can ask for. At least
she didn’t run from the apartment screaming, right?
She opens the door and steps into the hall. “I can’t believe I’m actually considering this,” she mumbles before turning to face me.
“It’s the perfect arrangement. You get the baby you’ve always dreamed about.”
“And you get to sleep with me,” she mumbles.
“It’s inevitable, Firecracker. I’m just giving you your dream along with mine.”
She doesn’t say anything, but instead heads to her apartment. She has a lot to consider, and I have no clue which way she’s leaning.
Last night after she told me she wanted a baby and that her soon-to-be ex-husband stripped that away from her, it got me thinking. The longing mixed with hurt in her eyes was almost too much to bear. Shit, I almost took her right then and tried to knock her up. But I’d never do that to a woman who’s only half conscious. When I’m with any woman, she’s one hundred percent alert and coherent.
And when I’m finally with Lexi, it’ll be because she’s begging me to take her.
My life hasn’t been my own since even before I left Westville. My legs are chained and a ghost walks with me, but I’m determined to make it better. I’m determined to fix the mistakes of one I love and right the wrongs of the one I despise.
I’m finally taking control of my life.
No, maybe it’s not the best time to bring a baby into the family. I’m surrounded by drama and am working two jobs with little or nothing to show for it. This is different than the way I wanted to help my mom fix her mess. That was out of necessity. This is for me. I thought about it from every direction last night, but kept coming back to one thing: I want to help her, and the thought of her with some other dick makes me feel like I’m having a stroke. As I tossed and turned on the bottom bunk of my brothers’ bed, the more this idea took shape and I realized I wanted something else too.