by Rowena
“Too tight,” he says, not clarifying a damned thing. “Somewhere between you squeezing the fuck out of my cock—no pun intended—we had a mishap.”
Suddenly I feel his fingers inside me and then feel him pull something out of me.
My head drops as I realize what it is: the condom.
“That doesn’t happen. Does it?” I say stupidly since obviously, it just happened.
Did I mention I’m not all that experienced? I can still count with fingers left over how many times I’ve done this.
“It has never happened to me,” he says. “Sometimes it happens to guys who wear condoms too big for their dicks, which I’ve never done.”
Who’s he telling? It’s a wonder they even came in his size.
I stay in place while he continues to ponder the situation.
“It’s fucking ripped,” he says almost wondrously.
Either way, we’re obviously not protected.
“Nina, I don’t want you to worry about anything—I’m totally clean,” he says.
“Me too,” I say quickly. Boy, if he only knew how much.
I wait for him to acknowledge the other risk, butt still in the air, but I just feel his hand start rubbing my ample cheeks.
I remember the dimples decorating them and start to flood with embarrassment.
Here I am, once again fully exposed to this man who could have any woman in the world he wants—scratch that, who has probably been privy to some of the best female bodies on the planet—with my lumps and rolls on display, having briefly forgotten how much I pale in comparison.
“Years,” Brent says, still apparently lost in his own world as he continues to fondle me. “My mind has been coming back to this delicious ass of yours for years. I’ve wanted to hold it, ride it, kiss it…” At that, he bends and kisses my ass cheek. “I have told you how beautiful you are, Nina, haven’t I? I wonder at how blind I was for so long. Thanks to your classmate, my eyes got a little bit opened…”
He stops.
Beautiful intimate moment meet can of worms.
Then again, this might be a good time to bring up the consequences of such a moment—the most opportune chance to say, “Oopsie, I could get pregnant. You know—like last time?”
But I can’t.
I can feel him looking at me, his gaze burning through the hair hanging over my face I try to hide behind.
“Are you on anything?” he says, his voice now appropriately heavy.
“No,” I say, the word emerging as a whisper.
I want to see what’s on his face then—I want to see his initial reaction to the implications; I want his honest gut response, but I can’t bear to look at him.
Emotion is threatening to overwhelm me.
At some point, while he was slamming into me, it was like he had dislodged a block, and the emotions I had been holding back came loose.
I can no longer ignore what I feel for him, what I’ve felt for him all along—the feeling that never went away, no matter how many walls I built over it.
I’m scared of the devastation I’ll feel if he disappears again, the fact that he might never feel the same about me.
Sure, he said he loves my body, but so what? He just wants to fuck it; I’m only an easy lay to him, helpless to his charms.
To my utter horror, I feel tears begin to well in my eyes.
I finally collapse on his bed and try to hide them, but I do a terrible job of it since I’m suddenly sobbing.
All I can think is, how could I have let this happen? Again?
Soon, I feel Brent’s body folding over mine as he wraps his arms around me.
He kisses my neck, my cheek while I cry into my hands.
I know he’ll ask what’s wrong and that I need to come up with an answer, but I can’t really think—only feel.
“If anything happens, I’ll take care of it,” he says. “Your decision which way to go, but know I’m with you all the way, Nina; I won’t leave you behind again.”
His words only make me cry more.
* * *
I guess I fell right to sleep, because at some point my eyes pop open, and I’m wondering where the hell I am until I register the soft covers over my body and the expanse of bed on both sides of me.
Ah yes, Brent’s mansion or castle or whatever the heck he calls this thing.
Then it dawns on me. The babysitter! I only booked her for three hours—I figured there was no way I’d be out longer than that.
Holy hell. How long have I been out?
I look around for my phone.
“Shit, shit, shit…” I mumble as I search desperately for my belongings.
My clothes had been flung far and wide, and I can’t find it fast enough.
I realize I’m probably too frantic and missing the obvious.
“Your phone’s blowing up,” I suddenly hear Brent say, his voice low and sexy and reaching me from the frame of his bedroom door.
I turn toward him and he indicates the side of the nightstand with a nod of his head and a glance.
I follow his eyes to the lit screen of my phone, a call currently coming in.
“I’m guessing it’s not your boyfriend since you’re here with me,” he says as I answer the call.
I ignore him.
“Sabrina, I’m so sorry, I’ll be there in thirty,” I say.
I’m not sure if it’s a lie or not since I don’t know how far away we are from my home. All I know is that I need to leave here now.
“Brent, I’ve got to go; you have to take me home right away.”
I start to gather my clothes and throw them on.
“Is there a fire?” he asks, frowning as he watches me.
“No, I just…something came up. I forgot something I was supposed to do.”
His frown deepens, and I realize I didn’t quite make sense.
But I don’t really owe him an explanation, do I?
I’m pulling on my top when I say, “I just really have to go. We’ll talk more soon. Please get ready to take me.”
He raises his eyebrows at my order but starts getting dressed.
I try to think up a better explanation as we head to his car.
4
Brent
I don’t know what bug got up Nina’s ass, but I’m about to find out.
She’s being dodgy, so I know it’s something important.
She doesn’t actually have a boyfriend she’s cheating on, is she?
Boy, it’s weird when the shoe’s on the other foot.
“What’s really going on, Nina?” I ask once we’re cruising along to her place.
My tone is more of a demand, and it feels like over five years ago when I didn’t think twice about pulling out of her what’s bothering her. Her problems never had to do with me, so it was easy to nudge her into confiding in me about anything.
It almost feels like we’re friends again, but the look she gives me worries me; her expression reflects fear and her eyes are wet.
I have no doubt her secret has something to do with me, but what the hell could it be? What’s worrying her so?
Is the guy she’s seeing violent? Is she afraid he’ll come after me? Or, god forbid, is she afraid of suffering physical consequences of being with me? She’s not dating some abuser, is she? I’ll tear him to pieces if he lays a hand on her.
“Nina, why are you so afraid? You know you can tell me anything, right?”
“Brent,” is all she says softly when we slide up to her place.
I wait for the rest of whatever she’s about to say, but her door suddenly flies open and a child darts out, quickly followed by an apologetic-looking girl in her late teens or so.
Nina jumps out of the car.
“Mommy!” the kid says happily as she wraps herself around Nina’s legs and it feels like everything stills inside me.
I hop out of the car too.
“I’m sorry, Nina,” the young girl says, “I had to pee and was just flushing the toilet when she
must have heard you pull up and…”
I don’t what the hell else she said to Nina—I can’t take my eyes off the child. The age, the face shape, the eyes—she’s gotta be mine.
I haven’t seen a lot of photos of my mom as a kid, but this child looks like a tanned version of her with golden ringlets.
All of Nina’s weirdness suddenly makes sense, and for a moment, I’m stuck in processing mode.
If this is my kid, I need to go to her.
I practically want to pat her head and see if she’s real because this can’t be real, right? I can’t have had a child on this earth for almost five years and not known about it?
I try not to jump to conclusions; after all, who says Nina didn’t ‘have relations’ with someone else the night after we slept together? Who knows how many other candidates are out there?
I stroll toward the girl and bend until I’m about her height.
“Well, hello there,” I begin. “What’s your name?”
“Bianca,” she says. “Bianca Colton.”
Now it feels like the earth itself has suddenly stopped spinning—the pressure between my ears has changed.
The child has my last name. Why would Nina give her my last name?
My eyes go to Nina, who is watching us with trepidation, twisting and fiddling with her fingers.
My gaze is anything but friendly or forgiving as I turn it to her. How the hell could Nina keep something this huge from me?
With tremendous effort, I shove down my anger and turn back to the child.
This isn’t the place—not in front of her.
Bianca is watching me with intelligent eyes.
I form a smile.
“I’m Brent,” I say. “Brent Colton.”
She sucks in a breath and her eyes widen.
Then she says, “Like me!” with a radiant smile, and something in me begins to crack.
Then the child turns to Nina and says, “Wait, is it him?” She turns back to me. “You’re my dad, aren’t you? You found your way back! What took you so long?”
Emotions continue to choke me, cutting off my words, so I grab the child to me and hold her against me as I wait for my throat to open back up.
Bianca’s little arms hugging me back completes the break and a few tears escape as the moment impresses itself on me.
I have a daughter.
Not only do I have a daughter, but I also missed everything about the first years of her life.
I will never see her baby face smile a gummy smile at me. I will never watch her first tooth emerge. I will never get to rejoice in her first words or see her learn to walk.
All of those years stolen from me and no chance of getting any of it back.
Talk about something money can’t buy.
How could Nina do this to me?
“Welcome home, Daddy,” Bianca says warmly, and my heart suddenly lifts.
Nothing like the first time hearing her call me Daddy. At least there’s that.
* * *
When I stand back up, the joy of meeting and holding my child is fading and quickly being replaced by fury.
I’m so angry with Nina, I don’t know what to do with myself; I feel like I might blow my top.
I’ve never been this furious my entire life.
I can’t trust myself around her, and I can’t let the child see me in this state. No way I can let Bianca see how angry I am at her mom—I can’t give her the impression that her dad’s the Tasmanian devil. I don’t know a thing about raising kids right now, but I suspect fighting in front of them is a bad idea.
It’s time to go.
“I’ve got to go,” I say to Nina without looking at her.
“Where’re you going?” Bianca asks in her adorable little voice, making it harder for me to do what I need to do.
“Oh, I’ll be back, sweetheart,” I say, ruffling her hair. “You and Daddy will be hanging out a lot from now on. I have so much to learn about you.”
“Yay!” she says with another radiant smile. “Will you be back tomorrow?”
Now that I know she exists and I’ve seen that face and heard that voice, knowing how much time I’ve missed with her and how much time Nina continued to let me miss with her by not telling me about her right away, how can I not find a way to see my daughter every day?
I don’t want to lose another minute, but the way I feel right now, I have to take a moment before I act.
“Soon, baby,” I say.
I have to force myself to be patient and think before I do or promise anything.
I finally shoot Nina a laser gaze, and she has the nerve to suddenly look defiant.
Excuse her?
The way I feel right now, she’ll be lucky if I don’t sweep this child away from her.
* * *
It takes a whole day for me to calm down a tiny bit and come to a sensible decision regarding the next step.
Nina and I obviously have to find a way to make this work, and she’s crazy if she thinks my kid’s going to stay in that neighborhood or that I won’t see my child every fucking day—as soon as we figure out where to go from here.
Nina’s in my life to stay now, and I’m pretty happy about that overall. Even when she’s pissing me off, she adds something to it.
Right now, I’m thinking I’ll move them into my mansion and probably pull Bianca from whatever school she’s in and get her into a better one.
Granted, I don’t know anything about where she is now, but I’m sure we can upgrade her.
I get one of my assistants to begin research on pre-schools and kindergartens in the area. Plus we’ll have to consider where to put her once she begins elementary.
I’m glad Nina had the sense to use my surname for her—it’ll make everything a bit easier.
I start thinking about which room to turn into Bianca’s room.
I’ll get some input from the child before I go redecorating one, but I can start ordering in some toys at least.
Nina can stay in any of the other bedrooms—she has nine to choose from.
As mad as I am at her, though, I only want her in mine.
I continue working on ways to get the mansion ready for them.
I don’t care what Nina has to say—they’re both moving in with me.
I start putting calls in and making arrangements.
At some point, it occurs to me—what the hell am I supposed to tell my dad? How do I tell him I knocked up some girl in college and have a kid?
I was so goddamned careful every other time, but this one time I messed up and forged ahead without taking precautions and here we are.
Apparently, I forgot that’s how things worked out sometimes because it didn’t even cross my mind that Nina could have gotten pregnant.
I must’ve just assumed she was on the pill or something, even after it became clear she wasn’t exactly experienced.
With some effort, I push the heavy thoughts of the past away and continue planning my future with Nina and Bianca.
* * *
Nina’s calling me again.
Seventeen missed calls and counting. It’s only been a few days!
I remember staring at the number of calls I’d missed from her after our college graduation.
I couldn’t keep track—I lost count after forty-eight.
All I could do was stare at her name in my call log, and as much as my fingers itched to dial her back, I couldn’t.
I had life plans that couldn’t involve her too deeply, a relationship I was trying to salvage. A father to please.
Back then, I figured a clean break was best for us and eventually changed my number.
I was so caught up in guilt for cheating on Stacey—the daughter of one of my father’s friends—that I soon put the whole incident with Nina out of my mind.
I wasn’t all that into Stacey and had planned to break up with her before sleeping with Nina, and I know that was no excuse to do what I did to her, but she sure as hell used it as an excuse f
or a lot that came after.
I’d never cheated before or after her, and when I tried to break up with her, she was horrified at the idea.
“Wait, you cheat on me and then you try to break up with me?”
By the time she was done ripping me a new one, I figured I owed her; I owed our relationship another shot. Being with her became a matter of duty to her and to my dad.
At some point, it became clear to both of us that we weren’t going anywhere, but not before she guilted me into a lot more things—including shutting out my best friend.
How could I possibly deny her that request considering what I’d done?
Now, as I watch my phone light up, I realize there’s a chance Nina could have been trying to let me know the news of her pregnancy with all those calls to me and it finally hits me—I can’t let something like that happen again.
What if she’s calling me about Bianca right now? What if something’s happened to her?
My sense of duty and heavy guilt fucked me over before—I can’t let my anger screw me over this time.
I finally call her back, my heart pounding as my thoughts are suddenly flooded with the worst.
I hear her let out a breath before she says, “We need to talk. And not over the phone.”
There is a weight to her words I can’t ignore.
Something dire has most certainly happened.
“It’s not Bianca, is it? Is she okay?”
“Bianca’s fine—physically anyway. Listen, I got a weird visit the other day. From your dad.”
A ball of dread starts to form in my stomach.
* * *
We arrange to meet up at a café on her lunch break, and as I sit waiting for her, I’m nervous and I don’t like it.
My dad didn’t mention having plans to pay Nina a visit, and I can only imagine what choice things he might have had to say to her.
All nervousness evaporates once I spot Nina heading toward me, and I’m flooded with so much affection and joy at the sight of her, I feel like whatever it is, it can’t be that bad. Nothing can be terrible when Nina’s near me.
She seems to be on the verge of biting her fingernails herself, and when her eyes finally flutter to me, she looks a bit struck and takes me in quickly before regaining composure.
