by Lulu Pratt
“I know that I want a family,” he says. “Not a wife or anything, but a child of my own. And I felt something between us the other night. A spark. And even tonight I’ve felt it. Tell me you haven’t, too?”
I have felt it. Of course, I have. From the moment we met, I’ve felt that spark, and tonight, as soon as I saw him, I could feel that same wave of unbridled enthusiasm hit me. I am able to be myself around Blake like no other man before him. But still. Does that mean I am ready to have his baby?
“I don’t know, Blake,” I say hesitantly. “It’s just that I don’t know you. And yes, I’ve felt the spark, too.” I hurry as I see him about to speak. “But don’t we need more than that?”
“How come?” He responds seriously. “I’m not asking you to marry me. Or even date me. I’m asking you to carry my baby. And like I said, I will look after you during the entire process and make sure that you are paid enough that you never want for money again. I want it to be as comfortable and as little of an inconvenience as possible for you.”
“Such a gentleman,” I say scathingly, not even on purpose. It is just the way he is asking me that makes me feel like a vessel, rather than a person. Sure, he says that he chose me because of the connection between us. But is that the only reason? Or am I just sex to him?
“Don’t get upset,” he says, and I suddenly become aware of the fact that he is still holding my hand. “I mean, it’s not like that. I like you, Carrie, I do. And I will prove that to you every day that you go through this. We will do it together, every step of the way. I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t think that you were the perfect woman for it.”
“And after the baby is born? What then?”
“You will still be involved as much as you like,” he says, then he pauses with a frown.
“Only I won’t be the mother,” I say, catching on quickly. “You’ll let me see my baby, but I won’t live with you or have any say in its upbringing.”
“Of course, you will,” he hurries. “But not to the same degree that you would usually. You would still be the child’s mother, but I would be the father. The baby will live with me and be raised by me. But you will be able to visit whenever you want, and I will still ask you for advice.” He finishes. “So? What do you think?”
“I think I need to go to the bathroom.”
I pull my hand from his and hurry to the bathroom. I don’t even notice the other people in the restaurant as I walk past them. I have tunnel vision, and I head for the bathroom like a woman on a mission.
I just need some fresh air. Or, unable to get that, some space away from Blake to think clearly. It is all so much and totally unexpected. I never, in my wildest imagination, thought that this is what he is going to ask. It is crazy.
I stumble into the bathroom and head straight for the sink. The moment I reach it, I turn on the faucet and let the cold water run into the sink. I run my hand through it, relishing its cool feel. Only once I can see straight again do I splash the water on my face, cooling myself down.
I stare at myself in the mirror and looked back at my reflection. As I do, the idea very slowly starts to grow on me. Well, not the idea itself, but the outcome of it. The money. I hate that I’m in a position where the need for money can dictate my life. But I am, and there’s no way around that.
Nine months. If I give him nine months, it could totally transform my life for the better. I hate where I live. I hate my job. I hate that I don’t have enough time to write. This offer could change all that. This offer could change me.
I stare at myself for a few more moments, letting the offer slowly take hold. As I feel myself cooling down, I begin to see the merits. And a few minutes more of staring is enough to convince me.
I’m going to do it.
But I am still not sure. The only reason that I am even considering it is because it’s Blake who asked. If it were anyone else, I would tell them to take a hike. But it’s Blake. It’s someone who I was honestly already picturing myself with, before this offer arose. It is because of that and that alone that the situation isn’t as cut and dry as it might seem.
I walk back to the table in a much better state than I left it. My back is straight, and I’m in control. As I slide back into my chair, I am delighted to see that my glass is full of red wine.
I pick up the glass and take a long sip, relishing in the way that I am making Blake sweat. He watches me the whole time, and only when I am done and wipe my lips, do I speak.
“I need a few days to think about it,” I say simply.
“Of course,” he says, “I wouldn’t expect you to say yes to something so big right away. I want you to take this seriously.”
“But that’s not a no,” I assure him. “It’s a maybe. I just can’t make this kind of decision on a whim. You understand?”
“I do,” he relents, evidently seeing the logic in my reason. “So, I won’t put any more pressure on you, okay? In fact, I won’t mention it again for the rest of the night. How does that sound?”
“That sounds perfect. What you can do is convince me, quietly, that it’s a good idea. You know, through your actions as a gentleman and all that.”
“Who says I’m a gentleman?” He quips, that sly smile returning.
“Careful,” I respond, unable to hide my smirk.
“Right, a gentleman,” he says, coughing dramatically as he pretends to clear his throat. “So, are you ready to order?”
“Maybe,” I say as I look down at the menu. “What’s good here?”
Chapter 11
BLAKE
The two of us have just finished eating dessert. We shared a slice of chocolate cake. The cake was Carrie’s decision, and as she ordered it, I got the sense that it was a favorite of hers. I made a mental note to always have chocolate cake in the house.
She eats the final slice and sucks the cake off the spoon. The whole time, she watches me with those eyes. She knows what she is doing to me through her actions, and I can tell it gives her great pleasure. But I’m okay with it. All I can think about is what I am going to do to her later.
I have managed to avoid talking about my proposal, too, just as I had promised. And the crazy part is, it isn’t even that hard. As soon as I told her that I would no longer mention it, I didn’t. As simple as that. And by the time we ordered our food and it came out to us, the proposal was all but forgotten.
It’s a testament to how perfect we are for one another and to how well we get along. That’s why I have chosen her to be the surrogate, assuming she says yes. Not only do I think that she will make a perfect second half, I also see her as someone I won’t mind spending the next nine months around. Not to mention what happens after we have the child.
But I can’t think on that now. I watch her slowly swallow the cake, her eyes still on me, and I calculate what I have to do and say to get her up to my room. Because tonight, I am having her, much the same way she just had that cake.
“So, I told you that the food here was good,” I say as I lean back in my chair.
“And I’m very impressed. I should never have doubted you really. Is that where you disappeared to for a few minutes earlier? You were in the kitchen cooking my meal? You really are so talented.” She pats her plump lips with a napkin.
“Not tonight, no. But would you believe me if I told you I taught the chef everything she knows?”
“I wouldn’t,” she says instantly. “Although I have doubted you before, and that hasn’t worked out for me in the past. So maybe I should be inclined. And if that’s the case, then again, very well done.”
“If you think the food was good, you should see the rooms here,” I say. It is a risk, and there is a chance that she will be put off by the forwardness of my statement. But I have to take it. I have to have her.
“Is that right?” She replies with a knowing smile.
“Some say that they are even better than the food.”
“Well, if that’s the case,” she begins, pausing as she watches my face
with anticipation. “You’re going to have to show me.”
I want to let out a sigh of relief, but I don’t want her to win the upper hand. I have to work even harder to not let her see how pleased I am, either. Although, I am most certainly that. Most of all, I have to work to make it appear that it is all part of my plan and that I didn’t expect any answer but the one that she gave.
“Good,” I say with a nod and a wink. “Shall we?”
I stand and hold my hand out for her to take. She takes it, gently placing her fingers in my grip. As she does, I lead her around the table and through the restaurant. A moment later, I walk her to the elevator, and a moment after that, we are on it. As it takes us up to the room, we both watch the doors in silence, and as the doors open, we both step out.
I take her hand again, directing her down the hallway to the room. As we walk, my heart beats against my chest, and I have to work to contain myself. I want to throw her up against the wall and have my way with her right now. But I don’t. Instead, I open the door to the room and direct her inside.
“Nice, you weren’t lying,” she says as she enters, looking around the room with awe.
“Have I ever?” I respond.
I want to use the moment to bring up my proposal from earlier but decide against it. There is no need to push. If anything, my actions now will speak louder than my words ever can.
The moment I close the door behind myself, I walk up behind Carrie. It is just like I imagined two nights ago. I stand behind her and kiss her on the neck. She tilts her head, letting out a soft moan of pleasure as she allows me to continue.
As I do, my hands find her waist, wrapping themselves around her and pulling her in closer. My cock is rock hard, and I wedge it against her ass, letting her feel it. She pushes herself up against it, and I can sense that she likes what I have to offer.
Without further hesitation, I spin her around so she is facing me. I lean in and kiss her, and she returns it. It’s even more passionate than the one from a few nights ago, and I swear that our lips are going to catch on fire. She uses the perfect amount of tongue.
My hands are still on her waist, and I begin to move them up. I want to cup her breasts. I want to feel them.
A vibration in my pocket stops what I am doing. Fuck. I grimace as Carrie pulls away.
“You can answer it,” she says with a smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’ll be right back,” I say, reaching into my pocket and pulling it out. I sigh when I see who is calling me. Ben. Arguably, my only real friend. If it were anyone else, I would let it ring. But it’s not, and so I answer it.
“What?” I ask, a little too short.
“Blake, thank God,” he says. He’s out of breath. It sounds like he’s just run a marathon. “Are you free?”
I look back to Carrie before answering. “Yes,” I say. He sounds worried. I’ve never heard his voice like this, and it actually has me worried now too. “Are you okay? Is everything all right?”
“It’s Simon. He had a fall.”
“Is he okay?” I ask instantly.
“He is. Well, he should be, but I need get him to a hospital. Janet is working remotely tonight and I can’t reach her.”
Simon is Ben’s youngest son, and someone I care for deeply. Simon even calls me Uncle Blake, and the moment that Ben says that he needs to get to the hospital, I feel my stomach drop.
“Can you come over and stay with Tommy? He’s sleeping and getting over one of those bad childhood colds. I can’t take him with us, nor can I have him wake up and find us gone. Can you please come to the house and watch over Tommy for me? Please. I wouldn’t usually ask, but it’s an emergency.”
“No, of course, I will. I’m glad you called. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
I hang up the phone. Carrie is standing right behind me, watching me. She looks concerned rather than angry, and I am grateful for that.
“Is everything okay?” She asks, worry etched in her voice.
“It’s my friend. I have to go to his place and look after his son while he takes his other son to the hospital. He needs me there.”
I want to explain more, but I can’t, not right now.
“Of course,” she says sympathetically. “Do you want me to come?”
“No, it’s fine. And Carrie. I’m sorry.”
And I am, too. Not just for having to leave her high and dry, but for me. I wish that this didn’t happen, not now. But it had happened, and all I can do is hope that she forgives me.
Chapter 12
CARRIE
As I drive home, I can’t stop thinking about what just happened. Really, I should be upset by the whole thing. Blake invited me out to dinner, asked me to come upstairs and then ditched me the moment that we were up there. And not even. He ditched me the moment things began to heat up. And yet, I can’t be mad at him. No way.
In fact, I am impressed. The fact that Blake is willing to leave me for the son of his friend. The fact that he is willing to anger me, after asking such a big favor of me and wanting to stay on my good side. It’s so amazing. It’s so selfless.
He told me what was going on as he walked me to my car, and now, as I slowly steer my car to my crappy little studio apartment, I can’t help but see him in a whole new light. If he cares that much for the son of a friend, I can only imagine how much he will care for his own child.
Our child, if I agree. It definitely casts a new light on the events of the night.
In traffic, my eyes flash around the car, anything to take my mind off the boring drive. As I look around, I spot my cell phone, and the moment that I see it, I think of calling Blake. Just a quick call. Just to make sure that he is okay.
Without hesitation, I dial the number, and it’s only as it rings that I think whether it is such a good idea. Will I look desperate? Will I look needy? Maybe I should wait until tomorrow.
“Hello? Carrie?” He speaks into the other end of the line.
“Oh, hi,” I say, surprised, even though I’m the one who called him.
“Hey, everything all right?” he says, sounding worried for a moment.
“I just wanted to call to see how your friend’s son is,” I say. “Is he okay? Is everything, you know, all right?”
“Yeah, he’s fine,” he says, letting out an exasperated sigh. “He’ll be fine, anyway. My friend went into father mode and panicked just a little, but it’s going to be okay.”
“Great!” I exclaim a little too loudly.
“Hey, Carrie, thanks for calling. Seriously.” He sounds as serious as his words imply. “It means a lot.”
*
As I walk through the front door to my little hovel, I again feel that same sense of isolation and loneliness that I did the last time I left a date with Blake. Only this time, I feel even worse. I was so certain I was going to sleep with him. In fact, I meant to. I went to that date not expecting to come home tonight. And yet, here I am.
I just can’t stop thinking about Blake. Everything about him. His offer is the first thing that comes to mind as I walk into my bedroom and begin to undress. It is an odd offer, and totally out of left field, and yet, the more I get to know Blake, the more I think that it’s not such a bad idea.
The way he acted tonight with his best friend’s son. It shows that he’s not doing this on a whim, but that he actually cares.
I strip off my dress, dropping it to the floor. Underneath it, I wear a lace thong and no bra. I don’t need a bra. My breasts have managed to defy gravity for longer than they should, and as I catch sight of them in the mirror, I can’t help but wonder what Blake would think of them. I’m sure he would love them.
With thoughts of Blake, I reach my hand up and pinch my nipple. It stings, but it also sends a shiver down my spine and through my legs. I pinch my other nipple harder, and I relish in the sensation.
Almost subconsciously, I slowly lower my hand between my legs. I begin to stroke the outside, above the thong. Softly at first and t
hen harder. The whole time, I think of Blake and what I would be doing to him right now, were it not for that call.
I’m about to push my panties to the side when I suddenly remember my new little gift to myself sitting in my dresser. I hurry across and open the top drawer, revealing a long, purple vibrator. I turn it on, clenching it in my hand. The vibrations send a pulse up my body, and my folds begin to moisten.
I lie back on my bed, peeling my thong off at the same time. With the vibrator on, I run it down my navel, over my pelvis, and down my thighs. It sends pulses through my body directly into my center. I imagine that it’s Blake doing it. That he’s kissing my body. Every inch of it. Each kiss getting closer and closer to my need.
With that thought in mind, I press the humming vibrator against my folds, pushing it onto my clit. The sensation is unreal, and I bite down on my lip to stop myself from screaming. I hold the vibrator against my clit for longer, allowing it to grow and engorge. As it does, I feel myself moisten even more. I want Blake inside me.
I squeeze his thick cock in my hand and stifle a moan. His cock is pulsing, his desire to get inside of me not hidden by anything. I brush my lips against his stiff cock again, teasing it, waiting for him to beg.
“I want to be inside of you, Carrie,” he growls in the recess of my mind.
“I want that too,” I spread my legs just a little more, slipping the vibrator inside me. It slides along my entrance, dripping in thick lubrication. I’m naughty for him. Only for him.
I press the vibrator into my tight entrance and groan, letting the image of him fucking me take over. He rams all of himself into me, forcing me to open for him, to bow down to whatever he wants from me.
My legs shake as he gives me a wicked grin and bids me to come hard and fast. He’s in control. Not me.
I can feel the heat working its way up my legs as he fucks me so good, not caring about anything but my pleasure. The heat of my building orgasm reaches my belly, threatening to explode from the inside out. I scream for him to come, and as I scream for it, I make it happen. I come, all over my vibrator, all over Blake’s cock. It’s sensational, and I never want it to end.