by Kylie Parker
“You don’t look so good,” my assistant said as soon as I walked into the office.
I threw her a ‘fuck you’ glance knowing she was right and went on to have a seat by my desk.
“Can I get you anything?” she persisted.
“Yes, some coffee please.”
She hurried out of the office as though my mere existence depended on the coffee and hurried back in with the cup in her hand. My head felt heavy, and I felt another dizzy spell attack me.
“Is Mr. Dawson in?” I asked.
“Yes, he just got in after you.”
I got to my feet and started making it to my bosses’ office, all along I fought the nudge to hurl as my stomach churned and rumbled. I knocked on the wooden door and fought the urge of leaning on it for support.
“Hey there,” Mr. Dawson greeted with his usual exciting voice.
I always wondered how he could afford to be jolly 24 hours f seven days in this profession. He must be happily married or something.
“Morning Mr. Dawson”, the words were barely out of my mouth before the puke traveled up my throat and straight to my mouth. I made it for the trash can that was only a few feet from me and emptied the ginger ale in it.
Embarrassed was the least I could say I was as I looked up into Mr. Dawson’s surprised eyes.
“I am sorry sir,” I managed to stammer.
“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off?” he suggested.
“Thank you, sir,” I answered. That was the intention of my short visit to his office before the hurling mess I created in his trash can. I got to my feet, wiped the remaining puke from the side of my mouth with the back of my hand as I made it for the door.
“And Sarah.”
“Yes sir,” I turned to face him.
“Take as long as you need.”
I simply nodded and made it out of his office; I walked to my office and spotted my assistant hovering around my desk looking worried.
“Are you ok?” she asked.
“No Emily, I am not,” I snapped back feeling irritable. I, later on, came to learn that she had witnessed the whole scene of me throwing up in my bosses’ trash can. “Please get me files on the Morelli's case; I will work on them from, home.
She strutted off to my desk to get what I had asked for as I took my purse and cell phone. I wondered if I could drive myself to the hospital, my whole body felt weak, and my first instinct was to call Robbie for help.
I then simmered on the idea for another minute before scolding myself on my decision. I was an independent woman who took pride in not relying on any man for anything. Calling Robbie would be an admission of weakness on my part, and that was the last thing I needed. I decided to drive home which was closer to the office and lie down before taking a cab to the hospital later.
My short episode in Mr. Dawson’s office had spread through the office like wildfire. Some of my colleges who hated Mr. Dawson’s jolly face wished I had hurled on his face instead. I maintained a very brave and strong face as I walked to my car and got into it.
I took a minute to rest my head on the steering wheel before starting the car and driving home. My bed was my first destination and after curling myself into a ball in between the sheets, I began thinking of the recent events. I had been out the previous night with David and had hit the bottle really hard. Scotch, whiskey, tequila, the list was endless. The night had ended well with David dropping me at my apartment after singing our own rendition of Usher’s “You got it bad.”
I sat up in bed and reached for my cell phone before making a phone call to the nearest takeout place in the neighborhood. As I rummaged through my bedside drawer for a card, something caught my eye. My pack of tampons sat there unopened, when was my next cycle?
I checked my calendar on my phone and grew worried by its findings. I was two weeks late. I had used birth control with Robbie, but there were days I had forgotten to take the daily pill because of work stress.
“Oh my God!”
My hand covered my mouth as I thought of the very high chances of me being pregnant by Robbie.
“OH MY GOD!!”
I said again as I threw back the covers off my body, I didn’t need to take out, I needed a pregnancy test. Maybe three or four of them, I headed for the front door, fearing the worst and hoping for the uncertain.
21
Robbie
Old habits die hard they say; Brad had handed my worst enemies’ head on a silver platter. But even with the excitement that the news had brought, something still did not feel right about the whole situation. It was all too good to be true and the more I thought about, the more it felt like a trap. Frank Baker was his name; I had sworn vengeance on him almost a decade ago, but he seemed to have disappeared from the face of the earth. I knew a thing or two about disappearing and had tracked his ass down, but my best sources had confirmed him dead and hence installing halt in my search.
Now all of a sudden Brad seemed to know his exact location? It felt like a trap, but I didn’t completely disregard it. After being unable to stick it into Lexie, my emotions were in limbo. I did not want to admit to myself that I loved Sarah, but here I was feeling like a complete woose, maybe finding Frank Baker would get my mind off Sarah for a minute. As though she read my thoughts, Sarah placed a call to me almost immediately, and a foolish smile spread all over my face as I picked it up.
“Hi dear,” I said unable to suppress the excitement in my voice.
“Hi, we need to talk,” she said.
Her tone sounded serious, not the dominatrix type of serious but the something was terribly wrong kind of serious.
“Is everything ok?” I asked.
“I can’t do this on the phone.”
Fuck! It sounded like a breakup; I hoped she was not letting me go. Not after I had fallen so hard for her.
“Alright,” I said trying to sound calm “Meet me at the mansion in thirty minutes.”
“I am already here.”
Damn, it was serious. I hope no one in their family had died. Sweet Lord, I was going to get ditched.
“Alright,” I answered, “I am on my way.”
I wanted to tell Edward to drive me faster, but whenever I considered the possibility of being ditched, I got scared. Yes, scared.
I let Edward drive on at his own pace as my head rested on my seat. I was a nervous wreck and craved a glass of scotch to still me. When we eventually got home, I stepped out of the car and headed right in. I found Sarah waiting on me in my office; her skin looked pale, and her eyes were a bloodshot red.
Had she been crying? Could my Sarah actually shed tears?
“Hi, are you okay?” I asked as I moved closer to her. I tried circling her in an embrace, but she stopped me and looked straight at me. I detected fear in her eyes and hoped she could not tell how I was equally frightened.
“I am pregnant.” Now that was unexpected, I stilled myself from taking a few steps back and placed a hand over my mouth in shock.
“Did you hear me, Robbie?’
“Yes, I heard you.”
I was speechless, trying to internalize the information all along rooted to the ground.
“Say something,” she barked.
“I thought you were on birth control?” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. It would sound like doubt, and I could not have her think that I doubted her.
“I thought so too,” she answered and fell to the ground. She sat on her feet and buried her head in the palms of her hands as her body convulsed in strong sobs.
I was by her side in a minute albeit my shock. I placed a hand on her shoulders as I locked her in a tight embrace.
“What am I going to do?” she asked, “I have my whole career ahead of me; I can’t keep track of criminals with a round belly.”
I let her sob some more as I thought about what she had just revealed to me. I didn't know what to do or say; I only knew that I loved her but was not sure if that was enough.
“I would totally understand if you want me to get rid of it. This is all bad timing”, she went on to say.
I looked into her eyes and for the first time since I had started dating Sarah could see her vulnerability. She didn’t want to get rid of the pregnancy and from that knew what was required of me.
“Marry me.”
“What?” she was as confused as I was after the words came out of my mouth.
“Marry me,” I said again.
Sarah got to her feet hurriedly as if I had caught her with poison ivy.
“Are you out of your freaking mind Robbie?”
“No, I am serious as a heart attack.”
“Come on Robbie; this is not the fifties you do not have to marry me just because I am carrying your child.”
She had a point, a very good point and I should have internalized the thought before speaking it. But changing my stand would make me look unreliable; I got to my feet and moved closer to her. I then took both her hands in mine before looking again into her lovely yet tear stained eyes.
“Sarah, I am asking you to marry me because I love you,” I started “I have never in my short life felt anything like this over any woman, but I love you and want to be with you for the rest of my life.”
I expected her to slap me across my face, tease me for being emotional and bearing out my heart to her but I did not expect her to melt into my arms. She hugged me so tightly I could feel my ribs protesting.
“Is that a yes?” I asked hopefully before I began to blubber “I mean you can take your time and mull over the subject. I am not going to pressure you, but I needed to put it out there”.
I couldn’t read her facial expression, couldn’t tell what was going on in her mind, but when she placed her lips on mine, I welcomed the kiss.
She then gently placed both her hands around my neck and I responded by running my hand up and down her back. We kissed some more, warmly, gently, tenderly and longingly.
I reached for the buttons on her blouse and slowly started to undo them, her breast was well tucked in a black bra which I proceeded to unclip. I waited for her to take control of the situation like she always did but she let me have my way. Her nipples were hard and exposed, and I pinched them slightly and loved they pleasurable moan that escaped her throat.
Since she was a few inches shorter than me, I had to bend down to cup them in my mouth before directing her to the only sofa I had in my office. Thank God for wealth and comfort, the sofa was accommodating and more comfortable than I had anticipated. I let her lay on me as I unzipped her pants and took them off with her panties before I took off my trousers and briefs as well.
Sarah is lying on the sofa; her legs spread evenly exposing her pussy gave me a great hard on. What drove me to 100 degrees of horny was the fact that she was submissive. I buried my head deep in her crotch and licked her juices before kissing her lips again. My dick teased her entrance, and the feeling of her wet pussy excited me.
“Make love to me Robbie,” she whispered in my ear.
I slid in with the aid of her slippery pussy and paused for a minute before ramming into her. Softly at first and increased momentum as I dug my hands into her hair.
“I love you, Sarah,” I let out as I thrust into her.
“I love you too,” she answered in a sincere tone.
“Marry me.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you,” I answered and planted a wet kiss on her lips “Marry me, Sarah.”
She went silent and instead kissed me a second time; she then kneaded her hand on my bare ass as if urging me to go deeper which I did.
“Marry me Sarah,” this time; it came out as a plea in between my moans of pleasure.
“Ok,” she answered.
“Ok, what?”
“Ok to you question,” she answered stubbornly. Trust Sarah to have a smart mouth even in this kind of situation. I thrust into her, deeper, harder, faster and held on to the locks of her hair as I did.
“You have to say it, dearie,” I said as I went on to fuck the living daylights out of her.
“I don’t have to.”
I paused for a mini-second before thrusting harder again as I pulled at her hair more. I could tell she loved this; I was enjoying it more.
“Yes you have to,” I said and went on to fuck her. I felt my climax slowly dawning on me but didn’t want to explode just yet. I wanted her to say it first; I wanted her to promise me that she would be my wife.
“Nope I don’t,” she said again, she was one stubborn woman. Something I would now have to deal with for the rest of my life is she indeed agreed to marry me.
“Yes, you do.”
We sounded like little kids on the playground arguing over who had broken the other’s toy. Only that, kids did not make such loans when they argued, I felt her orgasm close in. The muscles on her entrance tightened around my dick, and I paused to let her have her little piece of paradise.
“Yes Robbie, yes,” she shouted at the top of her lungs.
I wasn’t sure if she was shouting because of the orgasm or if she was answering my ‘Will you marry me’ question.
After wriggling like an earthworm and stretching out her legs like she always did whenever she came, she looked into my eyes and let out a lovely shy smile.
“Yes I will marry you, Robbie,” she answered.
That was the best news I had heard in the longest time, and now that I was only a few seconds away from my climax, I held her close, pumped harder and moaned louder when I exploded into her.
“I love you, Sarah,” I said before kissing her forehead.
“I love you too.”
We lay in a post orgasmic position for a few more minutes, neither of us wanting to let the other go. But when I finally did, I knew I had done the right thing and could not wait to make this gorgeous stubborn FBI woman my wife.
22
David
Brad reported back to me sooner than I had expected, I returned his call as soon as I got home after work.
“Hello,” he greeted after four rings.
“Got anything for me?”
“I am doing great, thank you for asking.”
He was sarcastic; that could only mean he had good news for me.
“Meet me at Murphy’s in an hour,” I said and hung up the phone. I didn’t care where he was or what he was doing; his ass had better be in that bar in an hour’s time if he valued his life. A hot shower after a long day always did me good, I peeled my clothes off and jumped into the bathroom.
I let the water play on my skin and loved the way the droplets cascaded down my body to the bathroom floor. I quick reminder came to me, and I knew I had to call Sarah after the shower. She had earlier texted me about not feeling so well, but I had not gotten time to call her back.
That was my first agenda after scrubbing clean; it rang for a few minutes before going straight to voicemail, and I decided on calling her after my meeting with Brad.
After a quick look at what I had brought with me, I decided on faded blue jeans that made my ass look small and a bright red tea shirt. I pulled on a baseball cap and walked out of my door after pocketing my wallet and my cell phone.
I then walked over to the rented car which I had by now gotten used to and drove off to the main road. On my way there I thought about the tired whore I had hired a week ago and if she would be available that night. Being away from Marisol had its own down lows; we had a twisted relationship but still had sex. It was not amazing but I wasn’t complaining, that was the one time Marisol’s mouth was not hurling insults and complaining about me.
I got to the club before Brad and picked a table at the far end that had very dim lighting.
“Can I get you anything sir?” a pretty waitress walked over to me with a rehearsed smile and waited for my order.
“A beer please,” I said after gazing at her half exposed rack.
She walked away to the bar and was back at the table in a few minutes. Right behind he
r was Brad, who had a good look at her ass before taking a seat opposite me.
“Get me one of those too, will you sweetie?” he said to her as soon as he sat down.
She politely nodded in his direction and walked towards the bar. I fixed my attention on Brad; he had the cliché bad boy look working for him that night. Faded tattered jeans, sleeveless collared black collar shirt that showed off his numerous tattoos and very dark shades that he took off and relaxed in his chair.
“I am sorry if I interfered with your plans,” I lied and I knew he knew that as well.
“It’s ok; I wasn’t doing anything important.”
“So, what do you have for me?”
He took out a slim brown file from his inner shirt which got me wondering how he had fit it in there. I also hoped that he had not gotten sweat stains on the file either.
“It’s all in there,” he said, “Your boy has a dark past.”
My insides somehow sublimed together and did a summersault when I heard this news. I knew that son of a bitch was not right especially for my sister.
“Keep talking.”
“Everything you need is in that file,” he said as he pointed to it. It was still lying on the table right in front of us; I hadn’t touched it with the intention of letting any sweat on it dry up.
The waitress walked back with Brad’s beer and placed it right in front of him.
“Can I get you, gentlemen, anything else?”
“No thank, we are good.”
She walked back to the bar to serve other customers, and I was left staring at Brad.
“After you had told me about him I asked around, did a little digging,” he went on “Turns out his name was not always Robbie.”
I leaned in to soak up all the information that this thug could possibly offer me; it was all so juicy.
“Go on,” I encouraged him.
“He was a hit man back in the day and had a personal vendetta for a guy named Frank Baker.”