The Baby Favor

by Chance Carter

  “A few days before the wedding,” I replied. In fact, I’d been so stressed out about the real issue on my mind I’d totally forgotten to tell him about it. It was sweet that he thought this was my issue, and even sweeter that he wanted to be supportive even though my mom had been super rude to him.

  “It’s not like you invited an ex to our wedding,” Ryan said, then sniffed. “Wait a second, you didn’t, right?”

  “Of course not!”

  Ryan laughed and hugged me again. “Relax, I’m kidding. You’re wound up so damn tight.” He massaged a line up my back and down it to the base of my spine.

  I had a choice. I could tell him about the issue or leave it until after the wedding, but chances were he wouldn’t keep quiet if he sensed something was off with me. I couldn’t buy myself two weeks with long bubble baths. And I didn’t want to have to avoid answering questions until then.

  It was now or never.

  I pulled out of the hug and he held me at arm’s length. “That’s not what’s wrong, is it?” he said.

  I shook my head. It was like the Sahara Desert had transported into my mouth.

  “Lay it on me,” he said, and folded his arms. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it together.”

  I swallowed, then forced a smile, then lost it again. “I’m pregnant.”

  Ryan’s eyes went round as dinner plate. “You’re what?”

  “Pregnant. I found out at the beginning of the week. I – yeah.”

  “Are you serious?” Ryan let out a fantastic whoop.

  Paula jerked upright in her beach chair and whacked her head against the umbrella. “What the hell? You trying to give me a heart attack?”

  “Is it okay?” I asked. “I mean, are you happy?”

  “Happy?! Happy! Are you kidding me? This is the best news. Chanel, I can’t think of anything that would make me happier than marrying you and having a baby with you,” he said, and dragged me into another hug. He positively vibrated with joy. “You’re my soul mate, I swear to God.”

  “Oh thank goodness,” I said, and let out a breath. “I was worried it would only stress you out more.”

  “No, this is the best news possible.” He kissed my forehead. “We’re going to have a baby. I’ll be a dad and you a mom, and we’ll have a beautiful baby boy or girl. Shit, this is making me mushy all over. Damn.” He laughed and kissed me again.

  I’d be a mom, and I wouldn’t be one who restricted her child from doing what they loved.

  “All right,” Paula yelled. “That’s it. I can’t get a minute’s peace with you two love birds around.” She whipped off her oversized floppy hat and marched over, sarong whipping in the wind created by her pace.

  She halted in front of us and fisted her hips. “What’s going on here? You’d better have a darn good reason for giving me this bump.” She gestured to the minuscule mark on her forehead where she’d connected with the umbrella. “You’ve ruined me for the wedding. How am I supposed to be the maid of honor with a lump like this marring my features?”

  “You mean how are you supposed to get the cobwebs blown off your –?”

  Paula gave an indignant squawk. “Don’t you dare. I’m fine in the cobweb department thank you very much.” She sniffed. “Seriously, why do you two look like you’re about to spew rainbows and puppy dogs?”

  “I’m pregnant,” I said, and Ryan squeezed my waist. He beamed over my head at Paula.

  My friend’s mouth flopped open. “Are you shitting me?”

  “Not even a little bit!” Ryan grinned from ear to ear. “It’s all real. We’re having a baby!”

  Paula let out a squeal rivaling Ryan’s whoop and threw herself at me. She hugged me tight and practically squished all the air out of my lungs. “Oh my God,” she shrieked, and backed away. “This is the best news ever. You’re going to be a mom. I’ve got to call somebody and tell them!” She rushed off, kicking up sand with her tan bare feet.

  “I’m going to be a mom,” I repeated. “And a wife.”

  The things I’d never dreamed were possible had finally come true for me. All my life, I’d been drifting on the ocean, and Ryan, and his baby, my baby, had provided the anchor I needed.

  Ryan slung his arm around my waist and I leaned my head against his shoulder, and I knew, we both did, that everything was how it was meant to be.

  I wasn’t alone anymore. I was home.

  Claiming His Virgin

  CHANCE CARTER

  Chapter 1

  Jane peers at her willowy reflection in the mirror, then standing on her tiptoes, pliés around for good measure. She halts, when she notices a run in her tights going straight up the back of her leg.

  “Oh shoot,” she curses. “Everything is falling apart these days. What next?”

  A loud and intense knock sounds at the door, interrupting her musing. It startles her for two reasons. One, no one ever knocks that loudly, because two, no one ever comes to her door.

  Squinting through the peep hole, she sees Paulo the landlord. His dark, greasy hair and large face—now sweaty from climbing three flights of stairs—make him look even meaner than usual.

  Jane freezes, hoping he will just go away.

  He knocks again, even louder than before.

  Oh, not today. Just go away, Jane thinks to herself, trying desperately not to make a sound.

  “Jane Bryden, I know you’re in there. I am officially delivering your final notice to pay your rent. If you don’t pay me by next week then you are evicted from your apartment. You hear me?”

  He slides a piece of paper under the door before walking away, the loud thunk of his shoes emphasizing that this is his place and his rules.

  Jane’s breath returns to normal when she knows for sure he is gone.

  “Uggghhh, for real?” she groans. “When will the universe give me a break? I’m trying my best and it’s just never enough.”

  As she moves to reach for the paper, she stubs her toe against the tiled floor, a feat, it seems that only she could manage. She cries out in painful frustration.

  “Why did I have to move to New York, anyway? For a childish dream of ballet? Where has that got me? Absolutely nowhere. Literally, nowhere. I’m, like, days away from being homeless. This city is dirty. The people are mean. The other ballerinas don’t like me,” Jane says out loud, starting to sob. “I will never fit in here.”

  On her coffee table is a greeting card her grandmother sent her. It has a brightly colored butterfly surrounded by tiny, reflecting sparkles. She moves to pick it up and reread it another time.

  Never give up on your dreams—you were born to fly.

  It is her grandmother’s message of love, written in her most beautiful handwriting.

  Jane sighs, trying to muster the gall to keep internalizing her grandma’s message when everything around her is speaking to the contrary.

  “Oh Grandma, I really hope so. I’m about ready to give up.”

  Jane goes back into her room and flops down flat on her back on the twin size bed, grabbing her teddy bear.

  “You’re the only one who gets me, Fluffy. You’re the only one I have in my life.”

  Her soft, long, dirty blonde hair spread over the pillow, she reaches over to the other side of the bed and wishes someone was there for her. She’s never had a boyfriend. There were guys interested in her, but her mother warned her to stay away from them, saying they would just mess with her head and make her forget all about her dreams and who she is.

  She hasn’t even made out with a guy. She kissed Brian, a coworker, in the wine cellar of the restaurant where she worked part-time, but then she found out he had a girlfriend. Jane was crushed and ashamed for letting herself be duped so easily, and vowed never to do something like that again unless she absolutely, positively knows the guy and where he is in his life.

  The loneliness is so deep though, and she has no idea when all this bad luck will end. What will change everything? When will she get to feel good again? What is her les
son? What is she not getting?

  She touches her breasts, stroking them and pushing them up to see her cleavage. She feels tingles going through her body, and thinks she can take her mind off of all of this. Closing her eyes, she imagines herself in a sexy, black negligée, and someone rubbing her body with his hands. She knows she is somewhat attractive, and that her tits are appealing, even though they are only a B cup.

  What I would do right now if I knew someone wanted me. I hate always being the good girl.

  She imagines a man reaching his hands down her cleavage and rubbing over the top of her nipples, making them hard, then stroking her flat stomach and tickling her belly button while she giggles out loud, then twists and turns under his teasing touch. Reaching down to the hemline of the lingerie, he puts his fingers along the inside of her thigh, reaching in to touch her pussy and feel the dampness there.

  Thunck, thunck, thunck.

  “Oh, fudge! It’s the damn landlord again.”

  The knock snaps her out of her fantasy. Her body freezes and she breathes lightly again.

  Darn it. Can’t a girl get a little bit of time to herself? If I were desperate enough, I could ask him if I can work off the rent for sex, she thinks to herself, jokingly.

  I wouldn’t have the guts, and I wouldn’t know what I was doing anyway.

  “Jane! Jane, I know you’re in there! I see you got that piece of paper. I really mean it, Jane. I don’t have a soft spot for young pretty ladies, you know, so don’t think you can get away with not paying me,” the landlord bellows through the door.

  She pulls the covers over her partly naked body, feeling a chill. Dozing off, she wishes her dreams will be better than her reality right now. Life is sucking in a really big way.

  In a matter of minutes, Jane falls into a deep sleep.

  Chapter 2

  The alarm goes off.

  “It’s three already? Where did the time go?”

  Jane gets dressed and packs her bag with ballet shoes, a new pair of tights, a tank top, and her toiletries. She pats powder on her face and puts on a peach tone of lipstick. Pulling her hair up into a pony tail, she takes one last look in the mirror to make sure everything looks put together. Pushing down a few stray hairs, she sighs, satisfied.

  “Ah, perfect!”

  She grabs her coat and keys, then opens the door. Looking both ways to make sure the landlord isn’t out in the hallway waiting for her, she makes a quick dash to the stairwell and runs out the back door whistling for a taxi to take her to the ballet studio.

  She arrives late. All the other ladies have started warming up by stretching their legs on the railing. When Jane walks in, they all turn to look at her with surprise and disgust.

  The teacher looks to her and says smugly, “Well, Miss Jane, it looks like you decided to join us after all. You’ve got five minutes to get changed, otherwise I’ll send you home.”

  The teacher goes back to giving orders to the other dancers for their warm-up.

  Jane feels embarrassed and wishes she could just crawl back out the door. Yet another bad experience. When will it end?

  She changes quickly and joins the rest of the group, taking the end position on the railing.

  An hour later, they take a break, and everyone goes to the changing room to get their water and veggie snacks.

  Valerie, the oldest and most experienced ballerina in the crowd, starts asking all the girls who got laid over the weekend.

  She goads Britney on.

  “Come on, you must have. I saw how George was looking at your ass! Seriously, something must have happened when the two of you left the gig that night.”

  Britney smiles and says, “Wouldn’t you like to know? Let’s just say I’m feeling a bit perkier than usual today.” Then she points at her tits.

  All the other girls laugh in unison, except for Jane, who drops her eyes while eating her carrots. She has no idea what to say, and doesn’t want them to find out she’s a virgin. She doesn’t like how they talk because she doesn’t have any stories to tell them. Valerie notices Jane isn’t laughing.

  “What’s wrong, Jane? Are you just embarrassed, or maybe you have a secret to tell us about your weekend?”

  Valerie goes up to Jane and puts her arm around her.

  “Come on, Jane, what were you up to on Saturday night?”

  She nudges Jane, trying to get her to spill some kind of beans.

  Jane is trying hard not to reveal to Valerie anything that will show she is completely inexperienced when it comes to sex.

  “Leave me alone, Valerie, I’m not in the mood for this,” she mutters.

  “Whoa, that’s not the Jane we know! Someone’s a Miss Grumpy Pants,” Valerie exclaims. “Come on, Jane. Tell us about your most exciting, sexual adventure. That’ll cheer you up. A wild ride in the car, sleeping with your best friend’s boyfriend, or sucking the football star’s cock? Come on, Jane, tell us!”

  “Just stop, Valerie, I don’t want to play this game,” Jane says, wishing she could come up with a witty line to divert the attention away from herself.

  “Oh, you’re so silly, Jane. Next thing you’re gonna do is tell us you’re a virgin or something,” Valerie chides.

  Jane is horrified. She goes totally pale and is stunned, not knowing what to say.

  “Why would you say that?” Jane asks nervously.

  Valerie looks at Jane and widens her eyes.

  “Oh my God! It’s true! Jane is a virgin! Hey, everyone, Jane is a virgin!”

  All the others laugh in disbelief.

  “Oh, sweetheart, we are going to fix you right up! You are the prize possession of all male fantasy! How the hell have you gotten away with not getting fucked with that tight ass of yours?”

  Valerie slaps Jane’s butt.

  Jane despises Valerie’s crassness and wonders how she was able to get into ballet school with the way she talks. She is so harsh and humiliating, always needing to be the center of attention.

  Jane blushes but also flushes with anger.

  Why won’t she just leave me alone?

  Jane bites her bottom lip. She gets up and walks over to the bathroom, tears welling up in her eyes. She goes into one of the stalls and bursts into tears.

  Why won’t people just leave me alone? Why do they always have to pick on me?

  She hears the girls leave the room to go back to the studio, the room now echoing in silence. She opens the bathroom door and looks at herself in the mirror, her eyes still dewy and puffy.

  Splashing cold water on her face, she is refreshed by the coolness. She stands up straight and looks at herself in the mirror. She turns around to look at her ass.

  Hmmm… I have a tight ass? Someone might want this ass?

  She looks at her face and sees a part of her that wishes she wasn’t so innocent, that wishes she had stories to tell about hot and sexy nights where guys were desiring her body, making all the women envy her.

  Instead, she is stuck in a stupid, pink, ballerina tutu that makes her look like a 12-year-old, just like her mother liked her to look. Innocent, pure, untouched.

  Jane decides to hold her head up high and join the troupe in the studio. She is not going to let them get the best of her. The teacher glares at her, shaking her head and clearly wondering what has gotten into Jane today.

  “One-two-spin-spin, one-two-spin-spin, one-two-spin-spin,” instructs the teacher. “Posture straight, head high, on your toes.”

  Jane tunes out the other girls and focuses on doing a good job.

  No one is going to get the best of her.

  Chapter 3

  It’s Saturday night at the Orion Ballet Hall , and time for the big performance they have been rehearsing for. Jane has been very nervous about this event, mostly because she knows she is the least experienced of the dancers. She hardly slept the night before—tossing, turning and reliving all the things that could go wrong at the performance.

  When she walks into the hall, her body shrinks with a fe
eling of inadequacy. The place is spacious, and the chandeliers are dripping with money. The crowd hasn’t arrived yet, and the whole place is quiet. She wonders if she should have gone through a different door.

  “Jane! Jane! Over here, dear,” motions her dance instructor. “Clearly, you are awestruck by this place. Come now, you’ll get used to it.”

  For the first time, Jane feels warmth from her instructor, genuine interest in her feelings, something she hasn’t felt since moving to New York.

  They walk together to the back stage area where they will all be getting their makeup on and dressing in their ballerina outfits.

  Jane sees Valerie standing at the mirror, perking her lips and shoving her large breasts into her bra, showing off her cleavage. One thing Jane has to admit is that she is jealous of Valerie’s body—it is sexy with all the right curves, and her dark hair is thick and wavy. She looks like she knows everything when it comes to guys and sex, and she has probably done every possible position.

  She’s such a bitch, thinks Jane, and then she feels guilty for using that word.

  Jane looks in the mirror at her own, mousy, brown hair, boobs that seem flat and unappealing in comparison, and skinny legs that look like toothpicks. Jane has been invisible to guys all her life, and she understands why.

  Jane goes over to her locker and opens it up. Inside is a purple plastic bag with a card tied to it and her name on the front.

  “Weird. Who would be giving me a gift?” Jane says quietly to herself and pulls the bag off the hook.

  Opening it up she pulls out the box. By this time, three of the other dancers, including Valerie, are behind her. Jane is feeling very uncomfortable, knowing something is off.

  She looks at the box and it has a picture of a penis with the words ‘Thunder Cock’ on the outside.

  Valerie starts the gang of them laughing, while Jane turns beet red and can’t even move.

  “We thought we’d get you started, Jane. Now you can spread those legs and start feeling some cock in you,” mocks Valerie. “Nothing like a little thunder to get that pussy wet.”