by Lulu Pratt
He continues to thrust inside of me, and his movements become harder and faster. His head is buried into my shoulder, and I can feel his whole body shuddering.
“I’m close,” he growls.
“I know, babe,” I reply.
His movements are the giveaway. And although I haven’t had time to reach that point, I really don’t mind. I just want him to come inside me.
And then, before I know it, he comes. Hard and fast. As he does, his body tightens up, and his lower half spasms. He pushes himself further into me, pausing as the base of his cock rams into my pussy.
I wrap my legs around him more tightly, holding him in place. I want to make sure that I don’t waste a single drop.
I never usually like quickies. They are usually aimed more at my partner’s pleasure than my own. But with Blake, I really don’t mind, and this one in particular was more than a little fun. And in his defense, it is better to be safe than sorry.
Today is my last day at Blake’s. In fact, this is my last moment at Blake’s. Before we started this quickie, I was all ready to leave, and he was all ready to take me home. But as I was on my way to the door, he stated that he just had to have me one more time. And so I let him.
“I can’t believe you’re going,” he says as he pulls himself away from me. “What a week.”
“I know, right?” I agree as I pull my skirt back down and begin to fix my messed-up hair. “It’s weird, but it feels like I’ve been here for ages. At the same time, it feels like it’s been no time at all. Does that make any sense?”
“I know what you mean,” he says. “It will feel weird coming home and you not being here. But when I think about it, it feels like you only arrived yesterday.”
With his pants pulled up, he adjusts his belt and flattens his hair. “Shall we?” He asks, holding his hand out.
“We shall.”
I take his hand and allow him to help me to my feet. He leads me through the house and out the front door, keeping a firm grip on my hand the whole way. It’s odd, but I don’t want him to let go. In fact, I don’t even really want to leave. I’ve grown to like it here. And not just because of the house, either, but because of Blake.
I stand at the front door as Blake gets his car. I look over the garden and wonder when I will be coming back. A part of me does not want to go. He pulls up the car, and I climb in the front seat. Once I am in the car and I strap myself in, he takes off, hitting the main road and steering the car back to my apartment. Back to my old life.
“Promise that you will call me the moment you get the results,” he says, a hint of excitement in his voice.
“You know I will,” I say, smiling. “But don’t get too excited. This stuff doesn’t happen overnight.”
“How long do you think? I mean, I know you’re not an expert or anything, but you probably know more than me.”
“At least two weeks, I think. I’ll check before then, obviously, but I won’t be holding my breath.”
He groans. “I don’t think I can wait that long.”
I reach out and take his hand, giving it a squeeze. “Well, you have no choice. Until then, all you can do is hope you’re as fertile as you claim to be.”
He chuckles at this and lifts my hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “I am going to miss seeing you every day. Just so you know.”
“Yeah, me too. Seeing you every day, I mean. I know why we started doing this, but I haven’t regretted it. Not for a second.”
And that’s the truth. As he continues to navigate the car to my apartment, I can feel my stomach dropping. I don’t want the week to end. I don’t want to go home. I am sure that if Blake asked me to stay longer, I would say yes instantly.
But then I remind myself that I can’t do that. I’m battling with myself constantly on two fronts. The first is the fact that I’m really starting to like Blake. When it is all said and done, I thank my lucky stars every day that he chose me for this. The more I get to know him and the closer we get, the more I can feel myself falling for him.
But that only conflicts with my other problem, and that is my revenge. I love my sister, and I owe her everything. I vowed to her and to myself to take the baby and leave Blake in the cold when the time comes. I can’t break that promise, despite how much I want to.
Because I do want to. At least, I think I do. It’s all so confusing. I look at Blake’s face as he steers the car, and I smile. I can’t help myself. He makes me so happy, and I hate what I am going to do to him.
“Here we are,” he says.
I look out the window, and indeed, the car is parked out in front of my apartment.
“Home sweet home,” I say, sighing.
I try not to sound too depressed. I don’t want Blake knowing how upset I am. I may want to stay at his place, but that doesn’t mean he wants me staying there. Odds are that he’s glad I’m leaving.
“I’ll call you soon, okay?” He says. He picks up my hand and gives it another kiss.
“Okay, I’d like that,” I respond, offering him a weak smile. I reach out and open the car door, readying myself to get out.
“Hey,” he says.
I turn back to see what he wants. He reaches forward and runs his fingers through my hair. Pulling me forward, he kisses me goodbye on the lips. I return the kiss with full force.
There is no sexual passion in the kiss. No longing or desire. It’s a kiss shared between two lovers who are aware of what they are losing.
It’s sweet and tender, and it might be the best kiss that we have ever had. But, as soon as it begins, it is over. I hold my head there for a moment, relishing the taste of his lips on mine. I then realize what I am doing, smile awkwardly at him and climb from the car.
The car pulls away, and I make my way to my apartment. As I do, I again think about what I plan on doing to him. And worse than that, I can’t decide whether or not I will be able to. If someone asks me right now and right here, I would say that I can’t hurt him like that.
I realize that I love Blake too much.
Chapter 29
BLAKE
I don’t know why I am so nervous. I really shouldn’t be. I’ve known Carrie for a few weeks now. And more than that, I’ve lived with her, slept with her and spent hours talking to her. Yet, as I sit in my car, staring at her apartment, I just can’t bring myself to walk up and knock on the front door.
The reason is that she doesn’t know I am here. I haven’t spoken to her since dropping her off on Tuesday, and rather than call, I have decided to surprise her. We’ve texted back and forth, but I’ve been busy with my latest project. But now that I am at her apartment, ready to spring my surprise visit on her, I don’t know if I should.
I haven’t been able to get her out of my head. The last three days, she has been the first thing I think of when I wake up and the last thing I think of when I go to sleep. I think of her when I eat and when I shower. I think of her on the way to work and when I am actually at work. I can’t get her out of my head.
I’ve been telling myself that it’s because I am excited about the possible baby. And in truth, that is kind of correct. There is a small chance that she might be pregnant right now, and if that is true, then it will be the best news I have ever heard.
But my inability to stop thinking about her is more than that. It’s all Carrie.
Having her stay at my house was a great idea on my part. Not only did it mean that we were able to have as much sex as possible and increase the chances of having a child, but it also meant that I was able to get to know her on a deeper level.
And better than that even, everything I learned about her only made me like her more. We connected on so many levels, to the point that I felt closer to her than anyone previously. And I am sure she feels the same way.
So why can’t I get out of my car and walk to her front door?
I shake my head. I never used to be this way. I grip the handle to my car door, take a deep breath and climb from my car. As I walk
to her front door, I try to think of a funny or clever line I can use on her. But I come up with nothing. I will have to wing it.
“Hey,” I say stupidly as she opens the door.
“Oh, hey!” She beams when she sees me. My heart does a tiny skip at her smile.
She looks beautiful. Stunning even. For a second, my voice gets caught in my throat. I have forgotten just how pretty she is. Those big eyes of hers. That gorgeous smile. Everything about her is out of this world.
“I was in the area and thought I would surprise you,” I say as I give my throat a clear. “And I also thought you might want to go out to dinner.”
“Dinner?” She asks, sounding surprised.
“Of course. What? You didn’t think I had forgotten you, did you?” I chuckle as I look her up and down. “How could I forget you?”
“Good point,” she says, nodding in agreement. “How silly of me to even think that. Well, do you want to come in? I’ll just get changed.”
She opens the door and I step inside. The first thing I notice is how different the place looks. Last time I was here, it was a mess, like a bomb had hit the place. Now, it has been totally transformed. Everything is so neat and tidy. It’s interesting to say the least.
“Did I tell you how stunning you look by the way? Even better than I remember.” I tell her as she rushes back and forth between her bedroom and bathroom.
“Shut up,” she chides. But even as she does, I catch her blushing. “So where are you taking me?”
“It’s up to you. I have a reservation at Las Rambles if you want. It’s that Portuguese place downtown. But I also made a reservation at the nearest McDonald’s, too. Not too sure what mood you were in.”
“Hmm, both sound tempting. But I’ve already had McDonald’s three times today.” She rubs her flat belly. “So, let’s go with the restaurant.”
“Great choice,” I chuckle. Just then, I feel a vibration in my pocket. Fuck. I pull out my phone to see Ben calling me. “Hello?” I answer.
I nod at Carrie and turn my back on her and head to the other side of the apartment.
“Blake! There he is. It’s been a few days and I was worried sick. Janet was, too. In fact, we all were here at the mansion. You left the barbecue early on Saturday and didn’t even call to say you made it home safe.”
“I’m trying this whole independence thing, Ben,” I respond. “And calling you every day goes against that concept. You’re just going to have to learn to trust me.”
“Really? Or are you just so blinded by love that you’ve cut everyone else out of your life?”
As if Carrie might be able to hear, I quickly cover the speaker of the phone with my hand.
“What?” I hiss into the phone. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“I’m just kidding,” Ben says, chuckling at his own joke. “In all seriousness, I really liked her. She’s far better than any of the bimbos you usually date. Those women are more breasts than brains.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“No, seriously. I like her, and I can tell you do, too. So please, Blake, don’t do anything to mess this up.”
“Is this why you called me? Love advice?” I look back and see Carrie is in the bathroom, getting ready.
“No, the youngest is in the bathroom, and I have to hold his hand, literally. I am right now, so I thought I’d call to kill the time.”
“Well, thanks. Glad you thought of me.” Just then, I look up and see Carrie is back. She looks at me and sees me still on the phone. “I’ve got to go, Ben, okay? I’ll talk to you later.”
“You better. I want to hear all about the new love of your life!”
I hang up the phone before he can harass me any further. It’s paranoia, but I don’t want Carrie overhearing. I like Carrie, more than I care to admit. But I have no idea how she feels about me, and I don’t want to ruin that. For now, I need to play it cool.
“Ready to go?” I ask.
“I was born ready,” she says.
She walks across the room, and I take her hand. I then open the door and lead her outside, readying myself for what I am sure will be a good night.
Chapter 30
CARRIE
Dinner is amazing. Better than that, even. And not just the food, but the company in general.
Las Rambles is a very fancy, very expensive establishment. As Blake led me through it, I had to stop myself from gasping. I’ve been with Blake for a while now, and I still constantly forget just how wealthy he is. And more than that, how much he enjoys spoiling me.
The food arrives, and as we eat, he tells me how beautiful I am and how much he has missed having me around. I’m not sure if he is just saying this, or if he means it.
A part of me really hopes he means it because I have missed him dreadfully, too. Sure, the house is amazing, but it would be nothing without him. It’s his company I have missed, and I am so glad that he feels the same way.
As the dinner draws to a close, I feel myself getting sad. I don’t want the night to end. I’ve been so used to spending the night with Blake that the idea of him leaving actually makes my heart ache.
“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” I ask, trying my best to sound casual.
“No plans,” he says. He stares at me as he does, and I have to break his gaze as I feel myself blushing.
“Would you like to come back to my place? I have a bottle of wine that I can’t drink now. I’d hate for it to go to waste.”
“Sure thing,” he says with a smile.
It’s a poor excuse, but it has worked. I like him more than I want to admit. I just wish I knew how he feels about me.
***
I open my front door and lead Blake inside. I’m not as embarrassed as I was last week about having him come over. Last week, my place was a mess. It’s usually like that, but after having spent some time at Blake’s, I came to realize that I can’t live like that anymore. The first thing I did when I got home was clean. And now, I can’t believe how much better my place looks.
“Right, wine,” I say as I close the door behind Blake. “I’ll just grab that.”
“No, let me,” he says, walking past me and into the kitchen. “Where are the glasses?”
“In the top cabinet,” I say.
I move to the couch and fall into it, watching Blake the whole time. When I answered the door tonight, I had to work to not gasp. I always forget just how handsome he is, and three days away from him only worked to increase that attraction.
“Ah, a good year,” he jokes as he looks at the cheap bottle of wine.
I laugh to myself as he pours himself a glass. He is so in control and in charge, but at the same time considerate. I saw him in a different light when he was playing with Simon. He was gentle and kind then. I think Blake will make a great father and be an even better role model.
With a glass of wine in hand, Blake falls next to me on the couch. He takes a sip, holding eye contact with me the whole time. I feel my whole body flush. Even now, I am still a little nervous around him.
“I’m glad you came out to dinner,” he says seriously.
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’ve missed having you around.”
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’ve missed sleeping with you,” he says.
“Yeah, me too—”
He leans forward and kisses me. I kiss him back, and for a moment, the two of us are locked together. I suddenly question his motivation and pull back.
“Wait a minute. I thought we were only doing this for a baby?”
“So?” He asks, keeping his eyes on me. They bore into me, devouring me.
“Well, haven’t we finished that? I mean, isn’t that what last week was for?”
I don’t know why I am even asking. It’s a reflex, if nothing else.
“I don’t know about you, Carrie, but I had a good time sleeping with you. And whether you are pregnant or not, I want to keep doing it. I want to keep seeing you.”
&nb
sp; I don’t know what to say. Is that an admission of how he feels about me? Or is it him telling me that he just enjoys the sex?
He smiles, clearly enjoying how nervous I am. He leans forward and kisses me again, and this time I don’t stop.
It feels odd kissing him this time. Usually, when we kiss, it is with a purpose in mind, which is having a baby. But this time, it isn’t hinted at. This time, we both know getting me pregnant is not the reason we are doing this. It’s because we both want to, because we are both attracted to one another, and because we both have feelings for one another.
The kissing becomes deeper, more tender. I climb on top of Blake, and he grips his hands around my waist. Usually, when we have sex, it is all fire and heat. He usually tears my clothes off and lets me have it — hard.
This time it is soft. Romantic even.
He slowly removes my blouse, kissing softly down my neck. He gently slides my skirt off me. He unhooks my bra and moves to kiss my breasts, soft and tenderly.
The whole time, I move my hips back and forth over him. I don’t do it as vigorously as I usually do, and I don’t do it with as much force. It’s a natural movement. A passionate one. It’s making love, not having sex.
I don’t want to taste him in my mouth. And I don’t want to sit on his face. I want him to be inside of me. I want to feel his girth fill me up. I want him to be a part of me, even if it is only for a moment.
I lift up my body, allowing for him to slide his pants and boxers off. He is already hard. His big, fat erection sticks straight up. Usually, I would tease him. Usually, I would play with it, dance around it, and make it seem as if I weren’t going to sit on it. But I don’t do that this time.
I climb on Blake. He wraps his hands around my waist, and he guides me onto him. As he slides inside of me, I moan softly. I tilt my head back, and he kisses my neck. It feels so good, even better than when he’s rough with me.
Once he is inside of me, I begin to move on him. I move slowly, rhythmically. I’m not bouncing up and down as I usually do, but instead, I listen to his breathing and feel his heartbeat. I move to the rhythm of his body. The two of us kiss as I do, and he massages my breasts. It feels incredible and is better than any other time the two of us have had sex.
