Long and Hard: A Bad Boy Box Set

by Lulu Pratt

  As I check my watch again, I reach forward and pluck a pastry off the table. I hired a catering service to bring some food over, deciding that they best drop off the food and leave before Carrie arrives.

  I don’t know how those who work in catering feel about other caterers, and I want to avoid the awkwardness. Not to mention the fact that I want Carrie in the best mood possible. Today is everything.

  I finish eating the pastry and am about to take another when my receptionist calls through to announce Carrie.

  Carrie walks in. As always, she looks divine. Today, she wears a simple strapless blue dress that hugs her waist. It flares out at the bottom and stops short of her knees. The dress accentuates her firm legs, and her bosom sits tightly in it, too. If I were to guess, I would say she isn’t wearing a bra.

  “Sorry, I’m late,” she puffs as she closes the door behind her. “I got lost.”

  “That’s fine,” I say. “Something to eat?”

  “Oh,” she says in a surprised tone as she spots the food. “No, I’m sorry. I ate earlier. Plus, if we’re going to do this.” She pats her stomach, as if implying that she needs to watch her weight.

  “Please,” I say with a smirk. “I think you’re the last person who has to worry about that. Have you seen you lately?”

  “Not in the last few hours.” She smirks back as she walks up to my desk. Reaching it, she leans against it so that she is facing me. “So, should we get started?”

  “All business?” I say. “I like that. But okay, here goes. The first thing I want to ask about is STDs and birth control.”

  “Wow,” she exclaims. “To the point.”

  “Always,” I say seriously, maintaining eye contact. I’ve entered business mode, and I need her to know that now, I am in charge. Playtime is over.

  I pull out a sheet from my doctor that confirms I have been tested for STDs and that I am clean. I hand it to Carrie, who looks over the sheet as she takes a seat.

  She reads it over and then speaks. “Well, as far as birth control goes, I have been using condoms and foam as I haven’t been in a serious relationship for a while. No point in messing with hormones when you don’t have to. And as for STDs, here you are.”

  She reaches into her handbag and pulls out a piece of paper.

  I take the paper and look over it. Like mine, it’s from a doctor, indicating that she is free of any STDs. I hated having to ask her, but I’m careful like that.

  “Next up is ovulation.”

  “Saturday is when we will be able to start trying, I hope,” she says. “I’m not going to bore or confuse you with the finer details.” She smirks.

  “Perfect!” I say, crumpling the notice and tossing it in the trash. “Now, what’s next?”

  “The money,” she hurries.

  I can tell that this is what has really been on her mind. I can’t blame her, as it’s the primary reason that she said yes in the first place.

  “Oh, of course, the money,” I say, leaning back in my chair and whacking my forehead as if it had slipped my mind. “What was the agreed-upon amount again?”

  “Two million dollars,” she says, licking her lips as she does.

  “And you’re getting laid regularly,” I joke. “You’ve really hit the jackpot.”

  “To be honest, it’s more money than I’ve ever seen, let alone had. I don’t know what I’ll do with it all.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” I say as I reach into my desk drawer. Opening it, I pull out a document that I had my lawyers draft. It’s a legal form in duplicate that stipulates payment of the funds once the baby is born.

  I hand them over to Carrie to sign. Once she has them, she reads through the contract meticulously, more than I would have thought. In fact, as I watch her, I am certain that she reads it twice. And it is only when she is satisfied that she takes a pen and countersigns both copies.

  “There,” she says smiling. “Done and done.”

  “Perfect!” I exclaim, taking one of the signed forms and slipping it back into my desk drawer. “The other one is for your records. Now, have I told you how perfect you look today?”

  “No,” she says, trying to hide her smile.

  “Well, you do. More than that even.” I walk over to her and slip my hand around her waist, pulling her onto my lap. She lets me, falling onto it.

  “But wait,” she says, still smiling. “I don’t start until Saturday.”

  I frown. “You know what? I’m willing to get an early start on the whole thing if you are? Just in case.”

  “Just in case,” she nods.

  I smile as my hand strokes her back, slowly moving across her soft skin. Holding her stare the entire time, I sit myself up straighter, leaning forward. She copies, leaning down and kissing me on the lips. I can already feel the fire.

  Chapter 16

  CARRIE

  EVERY TIME I kiss him my body shakes. His hand runs through my hair, guiding my face to his. As our lips meet, he holds it there. Not that he needs to. I could kiss him for hours.

  Our lips lock, dancing back and forth in perfect rhythm. I have never felt so comfortable kissing someone before. I have never felt so sexually alive. His lips are moist and warm, while his tongue is soft. It pushes into my mouth, lapping at my own tongue. I lick it back, pretending to nibble at it.

  As I do, his hand leaves the back of my head and grips my waist instead. In the spur of the moment, I lift up my left leg, kicking it over his head and down by his other side. I’m now straddling him.

  He is wearing khaki pants, and I can already feel his bulge, pressing up against my lips. He told me he has ten inches for me. That’s bigger than anything I have ever taken before, and although I thought he might be exaggerating, now that I can feel him, I think he might have been playing down its size.

  “I think I should leave,” I whisper in his ear. I then lick his ear and nibble on it. He groans.

  “Then go,” he says, keeping his hands firmly on my waist.

  I don’t make to move. I stay right where I am.

  I begin to move my hips back and forth, grinding into him. His bulge, pulsating in his pants, pushes itself up against my lips. I can feel it stroking the outside of my clit. My body trembles every time I grind myself forward.

  His hands move from my waist and to my back, where they find the clasp on my dress. He undoes it, and I slump my shoulders, allowing for my dress to fall open. My breasts are now right in his face, and he pounces. First, my left, and then my right. He bites down on both with just enough pressure that I squeal, but don’t scream.

  “You like that?” He groans as he pulls his mouth from my heaving breasts.

  In response, I grab the top of his head and push it back into my breasts. I want more.

  As he continues to play with them, his hand moves down to my thighs. He pinches my thigh as his hand breezes past it. He then begins to stroke my panty line. My body shakes each time his finger goes near my pussy. I am so wet, and all I want is him inside me.

  I am going to ask him to take me, but I stop myself. He has to do it on his own accord. I want him to want to. Luckily, I don’t wait long. He strokes the outside of my panty line and pushes it to the side, exposing my lips. His finger runs up the outside.

  I shudder and grab him by the back of the head. He lets out a chuckle and then plunges his finger inside of me. I bite down on his neck as he penetrates me. I breathe into his ear. I let out a moan. His finger pushes itself inside of me, and I scream.

  Someone knocks on the door.

  We both freeze where we are. His finger is inside of me. My exposed breasts are in his face. We both look to the door, and then back at one another.

  “Yes?” He calls out.

  “Sir, it’s Marge. I have an urgent email that I forwarded you an hour ago. I really need you to read it.”

  “Give me five minutes,” Blake yells through the door.

  “Thank you so much, sir. That’s perfect!”

&nb
sp; We remain frozen, and I hear the footsteps disappear down the hall. The moment they are gone, I slide off Blake’s lap. I am still hot and bothered, but I feel that the moment is all but gone.

  “When can I see you again?” He asks.

  I smile openly as I do up my dress.

  “Saturday,” I assure him. “Like I said.” In truth, I don’t think that I can wait until Saturday. I’m more turned on than I have ever been, and I have to have him soon. I just might explode otherwise.

  “I am not sure I can’t wait that long.” He stands up, taking my hand. The bulge in his pants is still there, demonstrating that he is telling the truth.

  “Okay,” I say. “How about tomorrow night? Your house?”

  “I can’t wait,” he says as I make my way to the door. We share a kiss as I step outside, and I make sure to close the door behind me.

  As I walk to my car, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out, smiling to myself as I see who is calling. It’s Amy.

  “What’s up?” I ask as I reach my car.

  “What’s up with me? What’s up with you? You told me you were meeting Blake again today. How did it go? Tell me everything!”

  “Yeah, it went pretty well. Nothing too exciting.”

  I look over my shoulder, as if someone might be watching me. The lie is an obvious one, and even I don’t believe myself.

  “Girl, you have got to be the worst liar. Just tell me! Something obviously happened. What was it? Sex? A blowjob? Oh, you definitely blew him didn’t you? You dirty little…”

  “I didn’t blow him,” I hiss into the phone. As I do, I climb into the car and strap myself in. “But we did almost have sex. Like really close to it.”

  “Amazing! Where are you now? What are you doing? I want to hear everything. Oh wait! Is that the time? Shit! Look, I have a client. What are you doing later?”

  “Nothing.” I chuckle as I shake my head at my friend’s eccentric nature.

  “Okay, I’ll call you. I want to hear everything.” She hangs up the phone, leaving it beeping in my ear.

  I shake my head again as I start up the car. As I do, I notice that my hand is still shaking. In fact, my entire body is. That moment with Blake has left me a wreck. I need to get home as soon as possible and take care of this aftershock. If I don’t, then I truly will explode.

  Chapter 17

  BLAKE

  I KNOW THAT Carrie isn’t too fond of her apartment, and as I pull up out the front of it, I can kind of see why now that I see it in the fading daylight. It’s not that it’s a terrible place or anything like that. It’s more that there is nothing inherently great about it.

  First of all, it’s tiny. I can see that from the outside. And as I walk to her front door, I instantly spot the dirt and grime lacing the walls. I guess it to be pretty old and has most likely passed through a dozen hands by now.

  My main concern isn’t so much for Carrie’s living conditions, but for those of my soon-to-be unborn child. I can’t have it being born in a place like this. I don’t even want it in a place like this while it’s in the womb. This worry is further compounded as I knock on Carrie’s front door, and a piece of the drywall crumbles and falls to the ground.

  “Coming,” I hear her call as she rushes around the apartment.

  It sounds like a damn hurricane inside as she runs back and forth.

  I remain where I am, rocking back and forth on my heels as the sound inside slowly dies down. The lock unclicks, and the door flies open, almost off its hinges.

  “Hey,” Carrie says, as soon as the door is open.

  She looks a little flustered, like she’s just run a sprint. Actually, as I step into the apartment and see the attempted clean-up job that she has done, I figure that she is more akin to having just run a marathon.

  “Quaint,” I say as I look over the apartment.

  It’s not a messy place, or at least, not anymore. It’s a studio apartment. I guess the entire mess to have been shoved into a corner somewhere where I can’t see it.

  “Shall we go?” She asks, still sounding flustered as she picks up a small bag.

  The way she tries to push me out the door, I’m sure that she doesn’t want me seeing any more of that apartment than I have to.

  “Is that all you’re taking?” I ask.

  “Yeah,” she says, still trying to lead me out of the building.

  “Listen, I’ve been thinking,” I say as I turn back on her, halting our exit. “I don’t think that one night will be enough. In fact, I would be shocked if it were. While you are ovulating, I think it would be best if you stay at my place.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that we’re going to have to fuck a lot, and I think you should stay at my house permanently until you have conceived. What do you think?”

  As I ask I notice her trying her hardest not to smile. She is really fighting against it. “Sure, I’d like that,” she finally says. “I’ll just grab some more stuff. I’ll be quick, okay?”

  She hurries away, throwing her overnight bag onto her bed as she begins to grab more clothes from her closet. As she does this, I remain where I am, looking around the apartment. The inside is exactly as I thought it would be. It only confirms what I know to be true, that my baby can’t be born within these walls.

  That’s the biggest reason for asking her to stay with me. Sure, I would like her to be around while her fertility window is open so there is more of a chance of conception. But if this all goes well, I imagine that I will be asking her to stay while she is with child. But that’s a conversation for a later date.

  “Finished,” she exclaims, catching me off guard. I’m still looking around the apartment as she sidles up to me, bulging suitcase in her hand.

  “Let me.” I take the suitcase from her hand and lead her out the front door to my car.

  “I always forget how nice this car is,” she says as she climbs in the passenger seat. “Like seriously, I think it costs more than my apartment.”

  “It better,” I quip as I jump in the driver’s seat and start up the engine. “Otherwise, I need to get a better one.”

  “Hey,” she exclaims jokingly as she whacks my arm. “My place isn’t that bad, is it?”

  “I’m kidding,” I say, pulling the Aston Martin onto the main road. “But still, I am happy that you agreed to come and stay with me.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she says, giving me a warm smile. As she does, she reaches out and squeezes my arm.

  It feels good, and for a moment there, I almost forget to keep my eyes on the road as I return the smile.

  “So, tell me about your day. What have you been doing?”

  “Do you really care?”

  “What? Of course, I do. Listen, Carrie, I don’t want you to think that I’m only using you for this baby thing. I still like you. A lot actually. Even if we weren’t doing this, I imagine we would be in a pretty similar position to now. Only without a signed contract.”

  “Oh, you don’t usually make your girlfriends sign lawyer-drafted documents?” She quips, raising an eyebrow at me.

  “Not the ones I like,” I shoot back.

  She offers me a warm smile again. “Okay, let’s see then. Today, I worked on my book actually.”

  “Really? That’s interesting. What’s it about? Or is that a secret?”

  “It’s not a secret. It’s a romance novel, and that’s all you’re getting out of me.” She smiles slyly.

  “Okay, I’ll take that for now. But I guarantee that you’ll tell me more, soon. In fact, I predict that you will be begging to tell me more.”

  “Do you think so?”

  “Oh, I know so,” I shoot back, returning her smile.

  As I do, I reach out with my hand and take hers in mine. I give it a squeeze, and she returns the squeeze with enthusiasm. I can’t help but feel that however this whole thing turns out, I’ve made the right choice in Carrie. There is something about her that I find impossibly alluring. A deep co
nnection that I am sure she feels.

  “So, is your house as impressive as your car? Or did you blow your wad on the wheels?”

  “I’m going to have to let you decide on that one.”

  “I will,” she responds. “And you will be the very first to know what I think.”

  “I hold my breath for your review.”

  I pull the Aston Martin onto the freeway, gunning it down the road and to my house. I smile knowingly to myself as I do. Something tells me that she is going to be just a little impressed.

  Chapter 18

  CARRIE

  HIS HOUSE IS huge. Well, house is probably the wrong term to use. It’s a mansion.

  An extraordinary mansion. It’s the kind of place I gaze openly at as I drive through Beverly Hills. It’s the kind of place that tourists take photos of when they go on street tours of L.A., if they can get that close.

  His home is mind-blowing. As Blake navigates his car down his long driveway to the garage, I can’t believe that I am going to spend the next few days here.

  “You like it?” He asks knowingly, smiling to himself as he notices my mouth hanging open.

  “Just a bit,” I say, not even bothering to hide my awe. “How do you afford this? I thought you said you produced small, independent films?”

  “I do,” he assures me. “But that doesn’t mean they don’t pay well. Plus, I made a few smart investments when I was younger.”

  “Like what?”

  “Property,” he says, nodding to the house.

  This one gets a laugh out of me, and I don’t even care that my defenses are down slightly. I was worried about him earlier, and whether or not I am doing the right thing. But now, as he pulls his car into a garage that’s as big as my apartment, I can’t help think that I’m on the right track.