Accidental Pregnancy, page 5
I trail my eyes over her full lips and round green eyes. My heart is beating strongly, the pound of it clear in my ears.
“Maybe…but I think we still would have ended up here even if I met you on the street,” I say.
Amanda is just as beautiful in the daylight as I remember. The only difference is the clothes she’s wearing, neat and business-like, and the way her hair is brushed back into a ponytail. The look suits her just as much as the short, floaty dress and the wild hair she wore at the club.
“Maybe,” Amanda says, but her eyes are smiling, apparently happy with my words.
There aren’t many people here, just a few customers and the two workers, a bartender who is wiping glasses and a barista who is taking someone’s order. The bartender looks up as we enter and smiles, recognizing me from several other times I’ve been here. He simply waves, however, to my relief. So far, it doesn’t appear as though Amanda recognizes me, and I’d like to keep it that way for as long as possible.
“Coffee?” I offer.
“Yes, thank you,” she says with a smile.
I lead her to a small table in the corner, the muted red tablecloth fitting nicely with the rest of the décor. The barista approaches us with a pad of paper and a pen.
“What can I get for the two of you?” she asks.
“Two coffees, please,” I say. I glance at Amanda. “White or black?”
“White with one sugar, please,” Amanda requests.
“And one black with two sugars,” I finish.
“Sure, that won’t be long,” the barista says with a smile.
When she’s gone, I turn to Amanda. Now that we’re sitting, I’m at a loss as to what to say. What do we even talk about? Two nights ago, we got incredibly intimate, very quickly, and it’s hard not to remember the sight of her curved body or the feel of her soft skin as I look at her now. My mouth grows dry and I clear my throat as I look away.
“So…business?” I ask a little roughly. “You said you had a meeting the other day?”
“Right!” Amanda says. She looks a little flustered; is she having the same problem as me? “I work for my father’s company. Have you heard of Tech Square Inc.?”
I carefully study the pattern of the wood wall for a moment.
“Yes...I’ve heard of it,” I hedge.
“Well, my father finally gave me some bigger responsibilities; he wants me to head an alliance with a rival company.” She sighs. “He’s being difficult with it, but the other company is really accepting, and I can absolutely see an alliance between us working really well. I want this to succeed more than anything.”
That’s heartening to hear, if I’m honest. I feel a little bad getting Amanda’s opinions on the alliance when she doesn’t know how much stake I have in it, but it’s good to know that she’s putting her all into a possible cooperation, even, apparently, against what her father wants her to do.
“Sounds interesting,” I say.
“Yeah,” Amanda says, smiling. “I love business. The competitiveness, the politics and all the ups and downs… One day, I do want to take over Tech Square Inc., if my father will let me.” She pauses. “My work is my life, though. I need you to understand that before anything else.”
Startled, I glance at her. A serious look has settled over her face.
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“My first loyalty is going to be to my work,” she explains. “If you want to go to a movie, but I have a project due, I’ll have to focus on that, instead.”
For a moment, I wonder why she’s telling me this, especially with that look of intense anticipation on her face. I don’t know what she’s waiting for.
“You just told me you’re really high up in your father’s company,” I say, hopelessly confused. “Of course your priorities should be to your work, just as my priorities sometimes will be to mine.”
I don’t understand the amazement that spreads across her face. I itch to ask, but the barista has appeared with our coffees, and I don’t know Amanda well enough to pry. So I just smile; I can figure that one out later.
“What do you do?” she asks.
“I…mostly work for myself,” I say. Not quite a lie; since I own the business, I am working for myself. “Managing it all can be quite difficult, sometimes, but I enjoy it. It keeps me busy.”
Amanda nods approvingly.
“That’s what I like about business,” she says. “There’s always something new or interesting to think about. Some new challenge to face.”
Her eyes are shining. Did I ever look like that when, as a teenager, I spoke about one day inheriting my father’s company? Somehow, I don’t think so; inheriting Energy Plus Co. was just a given, though, of course, I didn’t expect it to happen so soon. I didn’t take over because it interested me, but because it was expected of me. I’ve come to love owning my company and working so hard at it, but it didn’t start that way.
Yet it’s clear by Amanda’s expression and the way she talks that she genuinely loves what she does and is eagerly anticipating the increased responsibilities of a business owner in the far future.
I didn’t know much about Amanda before this moment. But as I sit here and watch her talk animatedly, I realize that I’ve made the right choice in wanting to get to know her better. Already I can tell that she’s a unique, amazing individual.
I can’t wait to explore more of her.
The coffee date was only intended to last for a few hours, at most. I had work that needed to be done by Monday, and Amanda had said that she needed to look over some paperwork before a meeting next week with my company. Neither of us had intended on staying very long.
Yet before we knew it, the sun started to drop and we were still sitting in our booth, chatting. I now knew about her life as an only child – an experience that I could share and commiserate with – about the divorce of her parents when she was young and why she became so interested in business.
In return, I shared my feelings about my parents’ deaths, admitted to sometimes feeling like a failure, and my secret archery hobby. When she pressed, I admitted that I had an archery set in my yard, and she somehow managed to wriggle an invitation to come and play one day.
As night fell, our drinks graduated from coffee to alcoholic beverages as the barista left, leaving only the bartender on duty. The small night crowd started filtering in, the music on the radio changed to more upbeat tunes and the lights dimmed.
And, all the while, I sat across from Amanda, in a little world that the two of us had made our own, leaning so close that our knees kept brushing against each other, sending little sparks across my skin. As I had more to drink, my eyes kept trailing down her long neck and eyeing the hint of cleavage through the gap at the top of her blouse. In response, she leaned in further, a mischievous look in her eyes.
I hadn’t come here today with the intention of having sex with Amanda again. But it was becoming harder and harder to resist the idea, especially when she seems just as keen.
It is ridiculous how attracted to this woman I am. I still barely know her. I’ve given her barely any details of my own life and she’s definitely holding things back, too, of course. We’ve only known each other for a few days and this is only the second time we’ve met.
Yet there’s some irresistible quality about her that draws me in and prevents me from trying to escape. I want to touch and taste and explore. I want to make her smile and I want to hear her groan. Now.
Finally, Amanda leans in. Her eyes are hooded.
“Looks like neither of us want to go anywhere,” she says, her voice low and purring in a way that sends desire straight to my groin as my pants begin tightening uncomfortably. “Want to find somewhere more comfortable?”
Her intentions are clear. And I’m helpless to deny just how much I want this.
“Anywhere in mind?” I manage to ask.
“There’s somewhere just up the street,” she says, winking. “I noticed it on my way here.”
The idea that she might have been contemplating taking me there since she first arrived for this date, while unlikely, is heady. My heart is beating rapidly and I need to touch her now. I stand, hard and aching.
“Let’s go, then,” I say as she stands too, standing close and pressing the front of her body against me.
She smiles and winds her arms around my neck. I watch the way her lips part slightly, her tongue flicking out to lap at her lip slightly, and I dive in to capture those lips for myself, unable to resist her even a moment longer. I can feel her body moving against mine, her leg rubbing against the hardness of my cock through my pants, and her arms are wrapped so tightly around my neck that I can feel the fluttering of the pulse at her wrist. I tangle my tongue in hers, mapping out the inside of her mouth, stealing her breath. When we pull back, we’re both panting and I have no doubt that the desire in her eyes is reflected in mine.
“Let’s go,” she agrees roughly. “Before I tell you to fuck me right here.”
Shit, I didn’t think it was possible to get any harder, but I was wrong. I’m breathless for a moment at the very suggestion, and Amanda winds her hand around mine, gripping hard to show me how needy she is right now. When she tugs, I stumble after her. I’m light-headed, tipsy and horny.
And the only thing I need right now is Amanda.
Chapter Eight
Amanda
It’s hard to wait until we stumble into the hotel room. Part of my mind is asking me what I’m doing; I’d promised myself that I would get to know Lyle a little better before I jumped into bed with him again.
But he’s so incredibly hot, even without the alcoholic filter that had obscured my vision the other night. Then there was his confusion when I informed him that my first priority would be to my work. He genuinely didn’t understand why I was bothering to inform him of that; as far as he was concerned, that’s the way it should be.
I knew, then, that I was lost. If he had turned out to be as whiny and needy as several of the other guys I’d dated, then I would have been able to resist his apparent perfection in every other area. But he wasn’t like them. He was strong, independent and, more importantly, understands my own independence.
I need to hold onto him. I’m definitely not going to find another like him any time soon.
I hear the hotel room door snap shut. And then Lyle is pushing me against the door, kissing me hungrily, his large hands wrapped around my shoulders as he shoves a knee between my legs. He sucks my tongue into his mouth and I’m helpless to do anything but mewl against him, rubbing my body slowly against him and feel how hard he already is through his pants.
I don’t know much about Lyle. He’s incredibly secretive about himself and I can’t say I blame him. We haven’t known each other very long, and this is the first date. There’s plenty of things about myself that I haven’t told him. Perhaps, if things go the way that I’m beginning to hope they will, those secrets will eventually come out.
For now, however, things will stay as they are, with the apparent bonus of getting to map out each other’s bodies completely. If things keep going at this rate, I’ll know Lyle’s body almost as well as my own.
At this thought, I push him back slightly. I’m panting, my chest heaving as I struggle to get back my breath. My head is spinning, both from the alcohol I consumed and the feeling of his lips on mine. Lyle looks similarly wrecked, his face flushed and his pupils blown wide from lust.
“Is this… Is this a good idea?” I pant.
“What?” Lyle asks.
It’s not a good time to be having second thoughts, right after we paid for a hotel room to spend the night together. But enough common sense has returned to remind me that this might not be a very good idea, especially since I don’t know where a relationship between the two of us will end up going.
“It’s only our first date,” I point out. It’s hard to concentrate while Lyle is running his hands down my arms. I pull my attention away from his touch with a herculean effort. “The second time we met. Do you think we’re rushing into things?”
“Yes,” Lyle says bluntly. “But, when we met, it was just a one-night stand, anyway. Then you gave me your number. Don’t you think it’s a little late to be worried about this?”
I snort.
“Not really,” I say. “A one-night stand is different to starting a real relationship.”
He leans in. His eyes are dark and my breath catches.
“Is that what we’re doing?” he asks softly. “Starting a relationship?”
It’s too hard to think. I swallow.
“Yeah,” I croak.
He stares at me for a moment longer. Then he smiles. It spreads across his face, lighting it up, and I realize that he’s genuinely happy at my agreement.
“That’s good,” he says. His hands pause. “If you want to stop, we can stop.”
Do I want to actually stop? He’s leaning away now, and my head is clearing a little as the smell of his cologne fades slightly.
Despite that…
“No,” I decide abruptly. “We can figure it out later. I want you to fuck me now.”
The air instantly becomes charged, the atmosphere changing back to sexual tension and lust. I hear a sharp intake of breath from Lyle, and his eyes search my face for a moment, perhaps looking for some sign of hesitation.
But there’s nothing there for him to find. I want him. I want to feel his cock buried deep inside me, and I want to feel his hands running all over me. I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck and hook my leg around his, dragging him closer. Our groins meet, and his full length is now pressed against me, pushing me along the hard wood of the door behind me. I gasp softly at the feeling.
“Fuck me,” I say again.
At that, Lyle begins moving, the last of his reservations from my interruption gone. He dives in and kisses me again, and I can’t move as he traps me against the door, his hands tugging at the hem of my shirt and playing with the skin at the hem of my skirt. I gasp into his mouth and he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping around my mouth, completely dominating the kiss. I melt against him, only the door and his body keeping me upright as my knees weaken.
Then he moves. He wraps an arm around behind me and hauls me forward. My arms are still around his neck and I’m helpless to do anything but follow, our lips still pressed together, my eyes fluttering at all the sensations as I stumble after him, ready to go anywhere if it means feeling more of him.
Abruptly, Lyle stops and swings me around, pulling away from the kiss. My knees hit a mattress and I fall back, landing flat on the bed, my chest heaving as I struggle to draw breath. Lyle leans over me, bracing his arms on the other side of my body, grinning down at me.
“You look so amazing; your lips are red, your cheeks are flushed and I can see just how much you want me,” he says. I groan at his words. “Tell me, Amanda, how much do you want me? What do you want me to do to you?”
I scramble to gather my scattered thoughts, trying to come up with an answer for him. When I find the words I want to say, they spill from my lips.
“Fuck me,” I gasp. “Fuck me hard and deep, so I’ll still feel you tomorrow. I want to feel every inch of you as you slide into me.”
I feel Lyle shuddering, his breath quickening.
“Sounds good to me,” he breathes into my ear, his breath blowing across my earlobe. “But first we need to get these clothes off.”
I’m suddenly very aware of the fact that we’re separated by the thin barrier of our clothes. But it feels like there’s a massive wall between our skin; the clothes need to go so I can feel Lyle wrapped around me as he touches every spare part of my body. I reach out and tug at his shirt, pulling it free of his pants and stretching the hem as I grab it, glad that at least I don’t have buttons to deal with. Privately, though, I think the long-sleeved, black shirt that he’s wearing, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, fitted to his body like a glove, is part of why I could hardly wait to jump him.
I glance up at Lyle. He has a look of intense concentration on his face as he works at the buttons on my blouse; I was at work this morning, finalizing some things for my report to my father so that he wouldn’t be able to find (and make a fuss about) any mistakes that I’d made. I was worried about showing up to a new date in business clothes, but the expression in Lyle’s eyes as he looked me up and down appreciatively settled that worry. It made me feel sexy and desired.
That has nothing on the way he’s looking at me now, though. Lust is in his eyes and he unconsciously licks his lips when he pulls open my blouse, revealing my perky breasts clad in a lacy bra. I try to remember the last time someone looked at me like this, but it’s a struggle to remember that there were others who wanted me while I have Lyle hovering over me, his interest clear.
“You’re beautiful,” he groans as he runs his hands down my bare sides to slide his fingers over the hem of my skirt.
He pops open the button and I lift my hips so he can tug the skirt down, sliding my panties down with it. At the same time, I tug the zipper of his pants down, and they fall to the ground as he tosses my clothes away.
We’re both in various states of undress now; my shirt is open and hanging loosely from my shoulders and I’m still wearing my bra. He still has his boxers on, and his shirt is riding up his stomach. His hair is a mess and the air around us is heating up as more and more skin is revealed. I pull at the hem of his shirt again.
“Take it off,” I demand.
He grins and pulls the shirt over his head, revealing his toned chest. I sit up, running my hands over his muscles appreciatively, and then shrug my blouse off. While Lyle pulls his boxers down, letting his hard and leaking cock spring free, I reach behind myself to unclasp my bra.
Finally, the last pieces of clothing fall to the ground, leaving us completely bare in front of each other. I take a moment to look him over; this is not the first time I’ve seen his naked body, but my memory of our last sexual encounter is slightly hazy. While I’m tipsy now, it’s only enough to take away my inhibitions, so I now get a full, clear view of Lyle’s body, his chest smooth, his thighs thick and toned and his skin slightly tanned all over. He clearly works out. His muscles ripple as he moves.
