I was just glad she was cheering for the right team.
I flagged down a guy selling hot dogs and snagged us a couple. Libby was very dainty in her actions. Tearing pieces of the bun off before trying to delicately eat the loaded hot dog. She had a napkin in her lap and a smile on her face, and I found myself concentrating more on her than I was the game.
“Yes! Way to go!” Libby exclaimed.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Were you not watching?”
“I was too busy looking at you.”
She blushed at my words and her tainted cheeks fueled my desire for her further.
“He made a basket,” Libby said.
“Then I would suspect that’s a reason to cheer,” I said.
“Are you going to stare at me the entire game, or are you going to pay attention?” she asked.
“If I want to sit courtside and watch you watch the game, then that’s what I’ll do.”
“So demanding. Geez,” she said with a smirk.
“You don’t know the half of it.”
Her eyes whipped back to me and I felt my cock stiffen. I drew in deep breaths as I tried to calm myself, but the look in Libby’s eye was far too much. We’d done this song and dance enough to know what was coming next. I took her out, we had a good time, then we ventured back to her place and I opened her eyes to the pleasures I could afford her. And I was thankful she didn’t question why we always went back to her apartment.
The last thing I needed was for her to ask to go back to my place.
Libby kept erupting with the crowd in cheers while I continued to watch her. As she caught on to how the game worked, she enjoyed it more and more. She cheered people on and clapped when they got up from being injured. Some of the players even started waving at her when they made a basket.
I didn’t like the attention they were giving her, but it added to the thrill of it all so I tried to suck it up.
But we both knew what was coming. As I escorted her from the stadium and walked her back to my car, I knew what we were in for. My cock was already throbbing with the prospect of being within her body, and I white-knuckled the steering wheel the entire way back to her place. She always tried the innocent thing when we got to her door. Fiddling with her keys and tucking her hair behind her ear. It was cute, the way she tried to act as if she didn’t want what was coming.
But every single time she looked up at my, her eyes betrayed her.
We walked through the threshold of her darkened apartment and she went to turn on a light. Only this time, I stopped her. She whipped her gaze up at me as we stood there in the darkness, our bodies drawn to one another as my cock throbbed. I wanted to do something different with her this time. I didn’t want us to rip one another’s clothes off and stumble into the bedroom.
This time, I wanted the control.
This time, I wanted to be listened to.
“Graham?”
“Yes?”
“Don’t you want to turn on a light?” Libby asked.
“No,” I said.
“Okay. Just… be careful walking to the room. Mozart has a tendency to drop things willy nilly.”
“No,” I said.
“No… you aren’t going to be careful?”
“No, we’re not going to your room,” I said with a grin.
I stalked towards her, feeling her body tense as I loomed over her. I undid my tie and slid it from my neck, then covered her eyes with it. Her hands flew to my wrists and I stopped, waiting for her to give me the go-ahead. She held my stance for a long time, and for a moment I thought she was going to tell me ‘no’.
Until she dropped her hands and nodded her head.
I tied the tie around the back of her head, making sure not to catch her hair in it. Then I proceeded to undress the two of us, leaving our clothes in a pile on the floor.
“Graham?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“What um… what do you want me to do?”
Her question was like a chorus of angels to my ears.
“Get on your knees and wait,” I said.
I watched her dip down to the floor as I held my cock in my hands. She looked so beautiful, knelt for me with her arms in her lap. My body was shaking with want for her. I wanted to feel her warm lips wrapped around my cock. I wanted to take her on every surface of her fucking bullshit apartment. I wanted her cat meowing from the annoyance of the noise by the time I was done with her.
I swiped the head of my cock across her lips, painting my precum like lipstick before she opened and took me in.
“Libby,” I said with a growl. “Shit.”
She gagged the further I pushed back so I relented. I kept my thrusts shallow as my balls grew heavy with want. I reached down and cupped her cheek, massaging her jaw as she hollowed out her cheeks. My legs were twitching and the way her tongue rolled around the tip of my cock had me breathless. I wanted to fuck her throat. I wanted to pour myself down her throat and fill her stomach with all of me. But I didn’t want to frighten her.
We would have to work up to some of those things.
She hummed around my cock and I couldn’t take it any longer. I pulled my dick from between her lips before I pulled her up to her feet. I picked her up against my chest, her arms threaded around my neck as she buried her face into my skin.
Then, I pinned her to the nearest wall.
“Graham. You’re going to-”
“I’m not going to drop you,” I said as I grabbed my cock. “Not by a longshot.”
I slid into her tight pussy and she moaned for more. I rolled my hips, feeling her fingernails digging into the meat of my back. I nipped and sucked at her skin, raising welts on her neck and biting marks into her chest. Her pussy throbbed around me. Pulling me closer as I quickened my pace. I pressed her between the wall and my chest, my toes digging into the laminated tiling of her fake hardwood floors.
Fuck, this woman deserved better than fake ass hardwood floors.
I pounded into her, bouncing her tits against my chest. I caught one of her nipples between my lips as she tangled her hands in my hair. She shoved me deep into her bosom, moaning and whimpering as my cock filled her time and time again. I could feel her ready to burst, but I was nowhere near that point yet.
I pulled myself from between her legs and set her down onto her feet. I spun her around and pressed her into the wall, then grabbed her hips for leverage. I slid back into her, watching her back bow for me. She wanted me. She wanted what only I could give her. I slid into her from behind, pounding into her relentlessly as her ass jumped for my viewing pleasure. Her arousal was trickling down my balls as they smacked her clit, and she jumped every time they attacked her body.
“Graham. Oh… shit. Yes, Graham. Please. Let me cum. I… I need it. Please.”
I gripped hard into her hips, pulling her back onto my cock as our scent swirled in the air around us. She was glorious. Her body a thing of beauty. Sculptures of her should be carved and put in every museum around the globe. Her curves jumped and her ass jiggled and her voice lilted with a breathless want I’d only heard in my wildest fantasies. It was like she was made for me. Made for my viewing pleasure. Made for me to consume.
Made for the animal within me.
I gritted my teeth as I thrusted into her. Faster and faster I went, pulling loud moans from between her lips. My name devolved into incoherent groans while her entire body shook. I could feel her pussy massaging my cock. I could feel her pushing back into me to chase what she so desperately wanted. My vision began to blur as our hips slammed together, skin slapping skin filling the hallway of her foyer as her pussy exploded around me.
It sucked me deeper into her body as she shook, milking my cock for all it had as I stilled within her. I pulled her upright, wrapping my arms around her waist as I stumbled us back into the other wall. I cock slipped from within her and my cum went shooting across the hallway, painting the wall I had just pinned her to as I held her close to
my body. She was heaving for breath and growing weak in her knees. I could feel her sinking to the floor, so I gathered her close to me and followed her every movement.
Then, when we were sitting in the middle of her darkened hallway, I gathered her close to me.
“That was… amazing,” Libby said breathlessly.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes it was.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“And thank you.”
“Is there any way I can convince you to stay tonight?” she asked.
I closed my eyes as I heaved a heavy sigh.
“It’s all right. I shouldn't have asked.”
“I’ve just got an early morning at work,” I said.
“It’s astounding, the number of Sundays you have to work.”
“Technology stops for no one.”
“You know if you don’t want to stay, all you have to do is say so. It’s not going to hurt my feelings.”
But the problem was, I did want to stay.
I simply couldn’t.
“It’s work. I promise,” I said.
“Then maybe another time,” Libby said with a yawn.
“Come on,” I said as I picked her up. “Let’s get you into bed.”
Then I carried her on my weakened legs into her bedroom, tucked her in, and wished her a goodnight.
Thirteen
Libby
“Mozart, you can’t have any of my ice cream. Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault you can’t eat chocolate.”
I was flipping through my latest book as I ate ice cream straight from the pint. It was a wonderful story, full of adventure and betrayal and the eventual wedding of two very unlikely characters. I loved stories like that. Stories where two people who were seemingly opposite for each other found their way into the arms of the person they thought they would hate the most. Those stories reminded me a bit of myself and Graham. How we came from seemingly opposing worlds, yet still found a way to enjoy one another.
Things had been going smoothly, but it had been a couple of weeks since I’d heard from him. He was off on a business trip that was taking longer than expected and I was swamped with work. Tutoring had ramped up because of the flu season—kids needed help getting caught up from being out—and there seemed to be more paperwork in the law firm I worked for. I was bringing work home with me for the first time ever and it was becoming a bit too much.
Which was why I was stress eating ice cream from the tub.
“Mozart! Stop that. You can’t have my ice cream. Cut it out.”
He was meowing relentlessly, pawing at me trying to get a bite of my food, but I wasn’t having it. Joanna’s ice cream had still been in the freezer from the last time she had been over, and it needed to be eaten before it went bad. Ice cream could only sit in a freezer for around three months before it started getting freezer burn, and there was no way I was letting a half a pint of ice cream go to waste.
I crunched down into a nut as I grimaced. A nut? What kind of ice cream was I eating? I hated nuts. They were not a thing I enjoyed.
And yet, this one didn’t taste so bad.
I looked down at the carton and realized I was eating rocky road ice cream. Yuck. No. Why in the world had Joanna bought rocky road ice cream? I had never seen her eat it in all the years I’d known her. How in the world had I been sitting here mindlessly eating an ice cream I couldn’t stand?
It boiled down to stress.
I was stress eating so badly my body didn’t care what I was eating.
I got up from the couch and went to go throw the pint away. There was no use in putting it back and there was no way I was finishing it. Nuts in ice cream? Whoever came up with that idea needed to be buried alive with crushed peanut powder. The lid of the trash can popped up and I threw it away, then my eyes haphazardly scanned up to my calendar.
There was something off about my calendar. I didn’t know what it was, and I wasn’t sure what was missing, but it gave me pause. Something didn’t look right with it and I felt panic rising in my veins. Was there a date I had forgotten? Something from my bosses? My brain was clawing at me, trying to rise up from my subconscious and scream into my ear. I took my calendar off the wall and flipped it back a couple of months, trying to see what color was missing.
I color-coordinated everything. It made me feel like I was more organized. Writing highlighted in blue was tutoring, writing highlighted in yellow was for the law firm. Writing highlighted in green were personal plans I made with people and writing that was highlighted red was to chart my period.
I figured it was an appropriate color for that time of the month.
I scanned the prior months before I flipped to the current one. Nothing seemed out of place or wrong about it. But something still wasn’t sitting well. I sifted through my mind for all the possibilities it could be. Maybe there was something in my email that would alert me to what I was missing. Maybe there was something sent to me I had read in passing and now my mind was trying to conjure it.
I went over to my phone and picked it up right as a notification came through.
My blood froze in my veins.
You are eleven days late for your period. Have you forgotten to log in?
It seemed asinine, but I had a period tracking application on my phone. It helped me during my doctor’s appointments when they asked me the date of my last period, because I could never remember. For as long as I could think back, my periods had been irregular—two periods in a months or seven weeks in between them. My cycle was a mess, and it had been all of my life. It shouldn't have shocked me that I was eleven days late. In my world, that was nothing.
But as I looked back at my trash can, worry settled into my gut.
I dropped the calendar, grabbed my phone, and rushed out the door. I ran down to the pharmacy on the corner and barreled into the store. I dashed straight for the family planning aisle and grabbed a box with two tests in it. I yanked a bottle of water out of the cooler before I ran up to the cashier, and I threw some money at him before I left. My legs were carrying me as fast as they could as the nuts stuck in my teeth taunted me. My stomach was growling for them. Craving them. Wanting more of them.
I hated nuts.
I’d always hated nuts.
I pushed into my apartment as Mozart jumped up onto the counter. He hissed at my loud intrusion as I slammed the door, locking it shut behind me. I didn’t want anyone disturbing me during this. Especially Graham. I didn’t want some surprise visit popping up or Joanna popping her head in thinking she was doing me a favor by randomly stopping by.
I wanted peace, quiet, and alone time for this.
Mozart was pawing underneath the slit of the door, like he knew something was in there for him to knock over. I paced back and forth, running my fingers through my hair. What the heck was I going to do if I was pregnant? I couldn’t be pregnant. There was no way. Women with periods like mine struggled to get pregnant. This wasn’t something that should’ve been an issue for me. I didn’t lead the kind of life a child would want to be raised in. I had a one-bedroom apartment with grand plan for a child. Not right now anyway. I had no savings, no medical insurance, and no money to buy anything a child would need!
I looked up at the clock before I drew in a deep breath. The moment of truth. I gently pushed Mozart out of the way with my foot, then creeped the door closed behind me. He was pissed. I knew he was. I could hear him hissing and scratching at the door. He wanted to know what all of the fuss was about, the nosy little cat.
But this was a private moment.
A moment that could possibly change my life.
I took both tests and capped them off. Then I turned them over and read the word that had popped up onto the little digital screens. I felt my world spinning around my head as my body went numb. Tears sprang to my eyes as my hands began to tremor. Time seemed to stop, and at the same time my heart was racing, thumping a hundred miles a second to try and pump the necessary oxygen through my body
to jar my brain back to reality.
Positive.
Both of the tests were positive.
I was having Graham’s baby.
Fourteen
Libby
I knew Graham was back in town, but he kept telling me he was busy with things. Work, or meetings, or he was simply tired. He had never been tired. Work had never tired him out so much that he didn’t want to spend time with me. And it only served to worry me more about this situation. I had booked an appointment at the free clinic in town to make sure the pregnancy tests were right, and I came away with prenatal vitamins, a booklet on what to expect, and a roll of glossy black and white pictures.
It was official.
I really was pregnant.
I kept trying to get Graham out to dinner, so we could talk, but he kept dodging me. My calls went unanswered and my conversational text messages were met with one-word answers. I couldn’t figure out what in the world had happened. I knew he couldn’t know. It wasn’t possible for him to know I was pregnant. But he was avoiding me for a reason and I wanted to know why. I wanted to know why, at the moment I needed him most, he was nowhere to be found.
But all I had was his stupid dating profile and his phone number.
I knew I could ask Logan for help, but I was so embarrassed. I didn’t know how to tell my favorite cousin I was pregnant. And oh yeah, the dad? His groomsman.
The only thing I could do was try to go to his work, but I was swamped with my own. And even if I showed up at his workplace, there was no guarantee that he would see me. For all I knew, he would have me escorted off the premises by security and want nothing more to do with me.
I was stuck.
Another week rolled by before an opportunity presented itself. According to the doctor’s office, I was nine weeks into my pregnancy. And the nausea was bad. Really bad. Worse than I’d ever experienced in my life. There were some days where the only thing I could keep down was fluids, and I was dropping a drastic amount of weight quickly. The doctor at the clinic advised me to keep an eye on things. If I started vomiting blood or throwing up in my sleep, I needed to get to a hospital.
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