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Authors: Claire Kent

Tags: #Contemporary

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BOOK: Nameless
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“God,” she
moaned, trying to think past the sustained pleasure and her buzz. “Really wet.”

“Yes,” Seth
muttered, ducking his head down again. “Yes.”

“Is the...” Erin
lost her breath as a sliver of pleasure caused her to twitch her left leg wildly.
“…condom okay? Feels too wet.”

Seth groaned as
her free hand fumbled at his ass. “Condom?” It seemed to take him a long time
to process this. “I haven’t come yet,” he said thickly, when he figured out
what she was worried about.

Erin squeezed
her hand around the edge of the headboard. “Check it. I feel too wet.”

With a loud
groan of effort, Seth stopped moving. Supporting himself on his knees, he
pulled out of her all the way.

Her pussy felt
overly sensitive and achingly empty with the loss of him, but she peered down
the bed through glazed eyes as he examined the condom.

“Looks fine,”
he told her. He reached down and stroked her with his fingers. Then slid a
finger all the way inside. Curled it up in a way that made her cry out. “Looks
like the wetness is all you.”

“Oh,” she
mumbled.

She wasn’t sure
whether to be pleased or embarrassed by her excessive moisture, and she found
herself meeting Seth’s eyes. Saw something ironic and proud and amused there.

She curled up
her lip. “Don’t get smug.”

He chuckled a
little, and Erin couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Do you want to
change positions?” he asked.

That sounded
like a good idea to her, so she turned over on her hands and knees, laughing again
when she looked over her shoulder and saw Seth’s pleased expression.

He aligned
himself behind her and slid into her from behind. Then he started to move,
pushing into her rhythmically until she grabbed for the headboard.

The motion made
her gasp and then moan as the pressure started to build again.

She wasn’t sure
if it was the new position or if he had just been controlled for too long, but Seth
lost it on her first moan.

He rasped,
“Fuck,” and started driving into her rapidly, adjusting his stance for better
leverage and pushing harder with each thrust.

“Yeah,” Erin
cried, clutching desperately at the headboard as the bed started rocking
wildly. Her body shook helplessly as Seth’s new rhythm did exactly what she
needed it to. “Oh, God, yeah.”

When she looked
back at him again, his eyes were indefinably primal. His rough grunts were
timed with his rough tempo, and he was clearly on the way to release.

Erin lowered
her shoulders until she could bury her face in the pillow as her mind blurred
into hot pleasure. She let out a loud sob as she came again, the waves radiating
out in deepening relief.

She made a
silly sound of surprise when Seth pulled out without warning and turned her
over onto her back. She automatically made room for him between her legs as he
entered her again, bending one of her knees back toward her chest and pushing
into her hard.

It felt good
and deep and intense and raw, and she wasn’t going to come again. So she was
able to watch as Seth lost control. On the cusp of climax, he froze for a
moment, his features twisting with pleasure. Then he breathed out a thick sound
of satisfaction, and his cock pulsed as he surrendered to his need.

Erin was still
moaning. Couldn’t seem to stop. Her body felt pliant and pleased and so good, and
every nerve ending tingled.

Seth bent his
arms, lowering his weight on top of her. She panted beneath him, loving how his
hot, shuddering body pressed her into the mattress. He smelled like Seth, and
like Scotch, and like the mingled scent of their sex. His breath was warm and damp
and right next to her skin. And he felt heavy, relaxed, substantial, sated.

Erin sighed in
pleasure. Couldn’t remember the last time she’d had sex this good. Maybe the
alcohol had loosened just enough of her inhibitions. Or maybe Seth was just
that good in bed.

After a minute,
his weight started to feel less pleasant. Became a little uncomfortable. She
poked his shoulder. “Did you faint?”

He gave a huff
of amusement and lifted his head from where it had been buried in the nook
between her neck and shoulder. “Absolutely not. So did it meet with your expectations?”

Erin raised her
eyebrows. “Not bad.”

He frowned at
her disapprovingly.

Grinning, she
admitted, “It was great.”

Adjusting his
arm, he idly pushed a stray piece of hair off her damp cheek.

Erin cleared
her throat. “Well?”

“I have to
agree with your assessment. It was great.”

Nodding, Erin
sighed in contentment. “All right. We’re both satisfied with the outcome. Get
off me now. You’re getting heavy, and it feels like you’re going limp. The
condom will leak.”

“I think we can
find a more appropriate descriptor than to say I’m ‘going limp.’”

Erin felt
herself shaking with amusement again at his offended expression. “Right. Sorry.
Your hard, impressive manhood is returning to its normal, but admirable
state." She paused. He still didn't move. "But, seriously, Seth, get
off.”

He nodded and,
holding the condom in place, carefully pulled out of her. Then he swung his
legs over the side of the bed and stood up, walking naked over to a small trash
can.

Erin stretched
in languid satisfaction, realizing she was going to be rather sore, but she saw
Seth frowning as he looked at his hands. “What is it? Something wrong with the
condom?”

“No,” he said,
shaking his head, “I don’t think so. It doesn’t look like it broke. There was a
lot of extra...wetness, but we’d already determined...”

Erin tried to
growl at him and ignored the fact that the covers beneath her were damp. “Don’t
start with that again. It was just a fluke. Not evidence of any particular
talent of yours in bed.”

“If you say
so,” he said with a little smile. “You want to stay the night?”

Erin thought
about it for a minute. “Nah. It’s not late yet, so I think I’ll head back to my
dad’s. I’m twenty-seven, but he still worries sometimes.”

Seth’s face
changed, and a haunted expression replaced the casual amusement.

Swallowing, Erin
remembered the funeral they’d attended that day. She felt a surprising swell of
tenderness rise up in her chest.

He glanced over
and seemed to notice her expression. Their eyes met, and they shared something
in the silent gaze.

Something
abstract. Indescribable. Powerful.

Then it was
gone.

Seth arched his
eyebrows. “Then you’d better go assuage his worries.”

Erin snorted
and rolled out of the bed to collect her scattered clothes. “I can’t believe
you can use the word ‘assuage’ after the night we’ve just had.”

He grunted.

Giggling, she
started pulling on her clothes. “That’s more like it.”

When she was
fully dressed, she turned back to him. He sat on the side of the bed watching
her—his expression thoughtful and guarded again, despite their light banter
just moments before.

She knew what
this encounter had been for him: a temporary reprieve, an escape, an interlude
not connected in any way to his real world.

Exactly as it
had been for her.

“Take care,
Seth,” she said softly.

“Thanks. You
too.”

There was
nothing else to say. She felt a tiny clench in her belly.

But she and
Seth shared nothing but a night of great sex, and there was no use in
pretending that they did.

*
* *

Twenty days later, Erin sat by
herself on the edge of her tub in the bathroom of her apartment in downtown
Atlanta.

Her heart raced.
She breathed erratically.

And she stared
at a little white stick.

She glanced at
her watch. Then back at the stick. Couldn’t believe this was happening to her.

She’d thought
the only truly stupid thing she would do in her life was marry Marcus.

Her evening
with Seth was like a dream now. The memory was warm and pleasurable but didn’t
feel real at all. It had been random, disconnected, fleeting.

And it wasn’t
supposed to come with any consequences.

Erin kept
staring at the stick until she saw what happened to the line on the end of it.

The irony was
appalling

It was like a
scene from a movie. A clichéd story about someone else.

There was
really no other response to be made, though.

She closed her
eyes. Dropped the pregnancy test on the floor.

Muttered under
her breath, “Oh, shit.”

Two

 

Erin sat in the sleek waiting
area of the downtown law firm where Seth worked and hoped she wasn’t going to
throw up.

At this point,
she wasn’t sure whether her nausea was from an afternoon case of morning
sickness or from escalating nerves. As far as she knew, it could be both.

For the last
few weeks, she’d been sick every morning, and, although some days it would fade
as the morning progressed, other days she felt ill all day.

She’d known to
expect it, of course—everyone knew about morning sickness—but that didn’t make
it any easier to suffer. Going into work every morning was horrible now, and by
lunchtime she was so exhausted she wanted to cry.

Today, however,
she had another reason to feel miserable.

She had to tell
Seth she was pregnant.

She’d known for
nearly a month, but she’d spent the first two weeks going through an agonized
deliberation about what she was going to do about the unexpected pregnancy.

She’d never felt
a strong urge to have children—certainly had no dreams of being a single
mother—and she wasn’t that eager to settle down into domestic life at the
moment, even if a child hadn’t been part of the deal.

So the decision
hadn’t been simple or easy. In fact, it had been painful and had taken a long
time to make. She still wasn’t absolutely sure she’d made the best choice.

But she was
having this baby, and she was going to keep it.

She wasn’t
entirely sure why.

Even after
she’d decided, it had taken her a week to get up the courage to contact Seth.
She’d considered not telling him at all—since she didn’t really want him to be an
integral part of her life.

Eventually,
however, guilt pressured her into it.

He was the
father, and so she should really tell him, no matter how much she wanted to
keep his kind of dominant, controlling personality away from her and her baby.

Not that he was
all bad. She’d had a good time with him that night, and he’d treated her well.
But she knew that evening was an exception for him and he lived his life, like
Marcus, assuming he would always get his way.

Maybe Seth
wouldn’t want anything to do with her or their child. As far as she was
concerned, that would be the easiest and best option.

She’d called
for an appointment with him in the office, without telling him what it was
about, and it was now one minute before their appointed time. Erin’s belly churned,
and she felt chilled and kind of weak.

From the
pregnancy or from growing anxiety, she still wasn’t sure. When you felt like
crap, it didn’t necessarily matter why.

She just wanted
to get this over with.

At precisely
three o’clock, a receptionist announced that Mr. Thomas was ready to see her. So
Erin stood up and smoothed out her skirt, taking solace in the fact that she
looked pretty decent, even though she felt like a disgusting mess.

Composing
herself with hard determination, she walked into the office. Scanned the classically
decorated room quickly and then approached his desk.

Seth, looking slick
and professional, stood up to greet her. He gave her a cool smile, shook her
hand with a courteous, “Good afternoon,” and then gestured her into a leather
chair next to the desk.

This was the
Seth she’d expected today—not the warmly clever, rumpled man she’d fucked
several weeks ago.

Erin sat down. Took
a few deep breaths to dispel the nausea. Summoned up her courage and hoped she
wouldn’t start babbling.

“So,” he said
slowly, giving her a sharp look and leaning back in his chair, “I can’t figure
out what you’re after. A job?”

He looked so
confident, so smug, that Erin's sense of irony kicked in. The edge of amusement
did a lot to calm her nerves, so her voice was clear and crisp as she replied,
“Actually, no. I’m very happy with my job and have no desire to work in a law
firm. Although I certainly appreciate your unyielding belief in your own
importance.”

Seth blinked at
her.

His expression
didn’t change in any concrete way, but Erin knew she’d surprised him, taken him
off guard. He had probably already—before she’d arrived—planned out a strategy
for dealing with her. So, now that his expectations had failed to materialize,
he was going to have to think on his feet.

“It’s something
else,” she continued, taking advantage of his temporary speechlessness. She’d
learned the ambush tactic with Marcus. If she wanted him to agree to something,
she had to catch him unaware, without giving him time to harden his will in any
particular direction.  “Something I need to tell you of a more personal
nature.”

He lifted his brows
slightly, and she thought she saw curiosity flicker in his eyes. “And so you
requested a
business
appointment with me?”

She shrugged. “What
would you have thought if I tried to call you at home?”

“You don’t have
my private number.”

“I know, but assuming
I could find it. What would you have thought?”

“That you were...”
He paused strategically, as if searching for a diplomatic word. “…making
advances on me.”

She was still
nervous and a little light-headed, but she was composed enough to chuckle
appreciatively at this. “Exactly. And I didn’t want there to be any confusion
on that issue. I have no interest in you romantically.”

BOOK: Nameless
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ads

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