Not Sorry

by Ella Miles

  “I’m sorry,” he says again.

  “For what?” I ask.

  “For not telling you this sooner. I love you, Olive. I realize that I never actually said those words to you before. That’s probably why it was so easy for you to believe that I could be in love with a woman other than you. But I can’t. I only love you, Olive. Crazy, goofy, gorgeous you.”

  I feel a tear roll down my cheek.

  “I’m sorry that I let you walk out of my office without running after you.

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t call you every night since then.

  “I’m sorry I almost let you go to a doctor’s appointment by yourself.

  “I’m sorry that I never believed in us. I do now. And, if you’re willing to give me a second chance, I would love to spend however long you’d be mine making it up to you.”

  I smile. “I’m not sorry.”

  He frowns in disappointment.

  “I’m not sorry that you were an ass to me when we first met.

  “I’m not sorry that I hated you initially.

  “I’m not sorry that I fucked you too many times to count.

  “I’m not sorry that I quit my job.

  “I’m not sorry about any of it because it got me to this point.”

  He nods.

  “Olive,” I hear the nurse shout.

  I stand up and start walking toward her with a smile on my face, but I don’t feel Sean walking behind me.

  I glance over my shoulder and see Sean is still sitting in the chair in the waiting room, looking disappointed.

  “You’re going to have something else to be sorry about if you don’t get your ass up and come with me to my appointment.”

  Sean laughs as he gets up and follows me into one of the exam rooms.

  “Lie back on the table. The doctor will be in and will want to do an ultrasound first. Then, he will go from there,” the nurse says before she leaves.

  Sean looks at me as I climb up onto the table. “You still love me?”

  I laugh. “Yes, you goof, I still love you. I thought that was clear.”

  He shakes his head and then kisses me hard on the lips as his hands travel down my body to my hips. Sean slowly stops kissing and looks down at my stomach and then up into my eyes. “I’ll love this baby like it’s my own. Don’t worry about that,” he says reassuringly.

  I smile. He’s right. I know he will. And I’ll love this baby, too. I’m just still getting used to the idea.

  We hear a knock on the door, followed by the doctor entering.

  “Let’s take a good look at how your baby is doing,” the doctor says.

  I nod and lie back as the doctor gets the ultrasound equipment together. I lift my shirt up, and he places the instrument on my stomach. I take a deep breath as I stare at the screen, waiting for the first image of my baby. But my eyes quickly go to the doctor, who is humming a little to himself, taking his sweet time with finding my baby.

  Another minute passes, and the doctor still doesn’t say anything. I glance over at Sean, who grabs hold of my hand and looks awfully nervous himself.

  “Is something wrong?” Sean asks because I can’t get any words out.

  “Please sit up for a moment,” the doctor says.

  I sit up without bothering to wipe the goop off my stomach first. I don’t care. I just need answers.

  “When did you take a pregnancy test?” the doctor asks.

  I think for a moment. “About two weeks ago.”

  “How many tests did you take then?”

  “Just the one.” I dig into my purse, pull out my phone with the picture I took of the positive pregnancy test, and show the doctor.

  The doctor laughs and visibly relaxes. “I was worried that you’d had a miscarriage, and that is always hard news to break to someone because pregnancy tests these days are almost always accurate. But looking at this picture shows that isn’t true.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, not understanding.

  “I’m so sorry, Olive, but you aren’t pregnant. You just read the test wrong.”

  My eyes shoot wide open, and a grin creeps over my face. “I’m not pregnant?” I say, not believing it.

  “I’m sorry again, but you’re not pregnant. I’ll give you two a few moments alone,” the doctor says, getting up.

  I turn to Sean. “I’m not pregnant.”

  “Are you okay with that?” he asks hesitantly, not sure what to say.

  I laugh. “I’m more than okay with it.”

  He laughs and scoops me up in his arms, spinning me around. “I can’t believe you read the test wrong. Let me see.”

  I show him the image on my phone.

  He laughs. “Two pink lines mean you’re pregnant. One line means you’re not.”

  I blush. “I read the instructions quickly.”

  Sean shakes his head. “I love you even though you’re always going to keep me on my toes.”

  I smile. “You’d better.”

  “So, what now? What do you want, Olive?”

  I think for a moment. “I want you to use that butt plug like you did in Anal Adventures 3.”

  Sean laughs. “So, you watched some of my porn movies?”

  I bite my lip. “I needed something to get me through these last couple of weeks.”

  Sean kisses me. “I’ll give you anything you want. Babies, houses, jets, and of course, all the sex you could ever want.”

  “What if I just want the sex and put a hold on all the rest? Would you regret going out with me if it meant that you might be giving up the mansion and two-point-five kids?” I ask, not sure how he is going to respond.

  “As long as I have you, that’s all that matters.”

  He kisses me again, and I lose myself in the kiss. I want him. Now. But we are in an exam room. We have to make it to one of our apartments first.

  “We need to stop,” I say.

  “Why?”

  “Because you can’t fuck me in a doctor’s office,” I whisper, like the room is bugged and someone can hear us.

  But Sean grins, and I forget about everything else.

  “I think you want me to fuck you right here, right now,” Sean says.

  I bite my lip and try to shake my head, but I end up nodding.

  The next thing I know, Sean has me bent over the exam room, and his cock is pushing inside my pussy while I try my best to be as quiet as I can. But, of course, I can’t stay quiet. I scream Sean’s name, and three seconds later, there is a knock on the door, followed by one of the nurses poking her head in, probably to make sure I’m okay.

  “Oh my God! You can’t do that in here!” she shouts at us.

  Sean slips out of me, and I quickly pull my pants back up.

  “Get out!” she screams.

  Sean grabs my hand, and we run out of the room and don’t stop until we are outside.

  I suck in a breath. “I think I’m going to have to change doctors,” I say, laughing.

  Sean laughs, too, before pulling me toward him and softly kissing me on the lips.

  “I’m sorry we got caught. But you were such a dirty girl that I couldn’t resist.”

  I bite my lip. “I’m not.”

  Epilogue

  Sean

  One Year Later

  * * *

  “Hey baby, what’s the emergency?” I ask, as I enter her new bakery shop. It’s her second bakery and it’s opening in three days, hence the emergency text message I got this morning.

  I look at Olive covered in flour standing in her kitchen. I know she’s stressed and needs help, but I can’t help but get turned on when I see her living her dream and being so successful at it. I know she has her doubts, which are always good to have when starting something new but she has no reason to worry. Her last bakery has done better than either of us ever imagined. This second location is going to do just as well and after this, the sky is the limit.

  She grins when she sees me, like just my presence here takes away all of the s
tress.

  She stops pouring the batter into the cupcake tins and walks over and kisses me on the lips.

  “I’m so glad you are here,” she says.

  I grab her neck and kiss her again. She melts into my arms as I kiss her and take away her anxiety. I wish I could just spend the rest of today kissing her, but I know that I shouldn’t. She needs to work.

  “How can I help?” I finally ask, tearing my lips away from hers.

  Her eyes grow wide and the expression on her face is one of guilt.

  “What is it?” I ask cautiously.

  “I need you to help me bake some things for tomorrow. I’m catering for a large wedding and I need help.”

  I frown. “What happened to the other bakers?”

  She bites her lip. “They called in sick.”

  I narrow my eyes as I study hers. “You let them all have the same day off again, didn’t you?”

  She kisses me softly on the lips to keep me from scolding her.

  “They deserved it. They’ve been working hard,” she says.

  “And what about you?”

  She grins. “I have you to help.” She throws me an apron.

  I sigh but put it on. “I’ll help but I can’t promise I’ll be any better than the last time. You’d be better off just baking everything yourself.”

  Her face lights up as she looks at me. “But then I wouldn’t get to see you looking so hot in your apron.”

  She pinches my ass before returning to baking.

  I groan. “Fine. I’ll help you, but only if I get to fuck you in nothing but your apron later.”

  She bites her lip again. “Deal.”

  She gives me a task and I try to focus on it instead of on her ass, but she makes it impossible. She rubs up against me every chance she gets. She smears flour on my face at least half a dozen times. She sways her hips even more than usual when she walks. Little whimpers and sounds leave her lips while she is working.

  I break, faster than I would like. Olive drives me insane with need on a normal day much less when she is trying to drive me mad.

  I grab her and push her against the wall, pushing her hands high above her head.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as I stare intently into her eyes.

  She breathes heavily. “Getting you to fuck me.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Well, that’s easy. All you have to do is ask.”

  She grins. “I want you to fuck me here.”

  I see the naughtiest look in her eyes when she says it.

  I don’t think about the fact of how unhygienic it is to fuck in her bakery’s kitchen. I’ll have a cleaning crew come in later.

  “Tell me what you want Olive,” I say because I know her. She has a plan in her head.

  She takes a deep breath. “I want you to fuck me on the counter.”

  I grab her and give her what she wants. I lift her up, wrapping her legs around me as I kiss her. She claws at my back as I sit her on the counter before grabbing her jeans and pulling them off at the same time that she undoes her apron and pulls it off. I grab the hem of her shirt and yank it off of her head.

  Olive pushes her body back onto the table and that’s when I get a full look at the lingerie she is wearing. She planned this. There was no emergency. The emergency was that she needed to get fucked.

  I glance around the room until I spot it. The video camera that she set up.

  I laugh and shake my head. “So which porno is this that we are reenacting?” I ask. She’s been trying to get me to come out of retirement and make a porn movie with her. Just a private one.

  She blushes. “The one where you fuck me in my bakery.”

  I shake my head but then I climb on top of her anyway. I would do anything for her. Even recreate a cheesy porn movie with her if that is what she wants.

  I kiss down her neck and then unclasp her bra.

  She arches her back and moans loudly as I do, exaggerating everything for the camera. I’m going to make it the best sex of her life then.

  I move my lips down her body until I reach her red lace panties. I bite the band of her panties with my teeth and pull them down slowly as Olive stares at me, waiting for the moment that my tongue moves inside her.

  I hesitate, letting her anticipation build as I hover over her. Then I lick her pussy and she screams.

  But it’s not her usual scream. This scream is terrifying.

  I stop immediately, sitting up and pulling her to me to find out what is wrong. I see the blood and panic.

  It’s a lot of blood. Too much blood oozing down her arm.

  “What happened?” I ask, as I grab the nearest clean dish towel and grab her hand to apply pressure to her wound that is most definitely going to need stitches.

  She winces when I wrap the towel around her hand.

  “I was trying to grab onto something because what you were doing felt so good… I think I grabbed a knife.”

  “I know we will laugh about this later but right now I need to get you to the emergency room. I think you need stitches.”

  She nods and I help her get dressed and then into my car so that I can rush her to the emergency room. As soon as we are both in the car, I step on the gas to get her to the emergency room.

  “Slow down Sean,” she says.

  “No. I need to get you help,” I say speeding up instead of slowing down.

  “Sean. Stop,” she says more firmly and I sigh but slow down a little.

  I look at her to make sure that the bleeding hasn’t gotten worse. I know it’s only a cut on her hand but it’s deep and I don’t know what I would do without her. I don’t think I could survive without her.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “I’ll tell you after we are finished.”

  We make it to the hospital and after waiting twenty minutes in the waiting room, far longer than I was happy with, Olive was finally brought back to a room where they stitched up her hand.

  “So how did this happen?” the doctor asks Olive when he finishes stitching her up.

  She looks at me and blushes but says, “Baking accident.”

  He nods. “Well, you should be all better now. Hopefully we won’t see you back for any more baking accidents,” he says emphasizing the last words and looking at me like he knows what really happened even though he couldn’t know.

  He finally leaves us alone in the room and I kiss Olive’s forehead. “I’m so glad you are okay. I was worried about you.”

  She laughs. “You need to stop freaking out every time something like this happens. I’m a klutz. Stuff like this happens to me all the time. If you are going to be with me you need to be used to going to the emergency room.”

  “I’ll never get used to you being in pain or almost dying.”

  She shakes her head. “You’re over exaggerating. I didn’t almost die.”

  “I know. It was still hard to watch you go through that much pain.”

  “What did you want to tell me earlier in the car?” she asks.

  I look at her in the eye and know that this is the wrong place and the wrong way to do this but I don’t have a choice. I have to tell her how I feel.

  “That I want to marry you,” I say.

  Her eyes widen a little but she doesn’t seem that shocked that I would ask. We’ve been dating for a year. We love each other. It’s the next natural step.

  But she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t show excitement or say that she wants to marry me too.

  “What do you think? Will you marry me? Or do you want to wait to answer until I do it right? Get a ring and find some romantic place?”

  “Why do you want to marry me?” she asks.

  I frown. “Because I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  She nods. “I love you and want to spend the rest of my life with you too but it doesn’t mean that we should get married.”

  “Shouldn’t it?” I ask.

  She smi
les. “I don’t need to get married to know that you love me and will do anything for me for the rest of your life. One look today from you when my hand was cut was all it took to know that I’m yours forever.”

  “And I’m yours forever.” I study her closely. “Will you marry me?” I ask again.

  Her face lights up. “Yes. I’ll marry you, but only because I want an excuse to go on a long honeymoon where you can fuck me in a dozen countries.”

  I grin. “God, I love you,” I say kissing her.

  Olive is mine. I’m going to make it official by marrying her. And then take her on a year long honeymoon. I know she can find the right bakers to handle her bakeries while we are gone. After all, I was the one that taught her everything I know. She’s going to kill this running a business thing. She already is. She’s everything I never knew I wanted in a woman and more. And she’s all fucking mine. Forever.

  THE END

  * * *

  Continue reading to get your sneak peek of, Aligned: Volume 1…

  Aligned: Volume 1

  Chapter One: Alexa

  I feel my hand slipping from his, but I’m not ready to let go. I reach out, desperately trying to grab hold of anything to keep him with me. I feel silk beneath my fingers. I pull hard. He has to come back to me, but all I’m left with is a torn piece of green silk fabric.

  * * *

  The tires squeal as the cab jolts to a halt in front of my condo building, slamming me into the back of the passenger seat. I slowly unstick myself from the seat before trying to catch my breath. My heart is fluttering faster than a hummingbird’s wings. I attempt to breathe but only manage a wheezing sound. I wave at the cab driver to try to get his attention, to alert him that I can’t breathe, but he is engrossed in his phone, not paying any attention to me.

  I feel my anxiety increasing. Hot and dizzy. My chest is tightening around my heart — squeezing it to death, and not letting it beat. I’m going to die right here in the backseat of a cab that smells like sweat and smoke, next to an old fast food wrapper. My skin is burning hotter. In a matter of seconds, I expect to be engulfed in flames. I’m going to die. I claw at the door to let in the air so I can breathe. But it doesn’t budge. Trapped without air, my lungs burn with each breath. Just let death be quick. “Miss,” a voice says barely audible over my pounding heart. I wait for the voice to come back. “Miss Blakely,” it says this time calmly. “You are having a panic attack. You are not going to die. Take a deep breath,” says the voice I now recognize as my therapist. I take a deep breath wincing at the deep burn as I fill my lungs with air again. I take another deep breath and listen to the rhythm of the waves I faintly hear in the distance. Each breath is calmer than the previous one. Each breath expands my lungs and the space around my heart to release it from its cage and let it beat.