I was relieved to hear a flash of my girl come back. “You’re assuming an awful lot with that question.”
“I’m just being a gentleman. You’ve had a tough afternoon. I know the perfect remedy to make you feel better.”
“Of course you do.”
“It’s my duty, and I take it very seriously.”
“You know what would really make me feel better?”
“Name it.”
“You, not being a gentleman.”
The corners of my mouth twisted up while my cock hardened at the thought. I didn’t take my eyes from hers as I spoke. “To my place, Louis.” Then I whispered in her ear. “And to think, I was going to fuck you full of nice. You never cease to amaze me, Soraya. It would be my pleasure to leave the gentleman at the door and fuck you four ways dirty.”
***
THE NEXT FEW DAYS, THINGS RETURNED to normal between Soraya and me. Her anxiety over the prospect of my having a child seemed to diminish. During the day, I threw myself into my work, and at night, I worked just as hard at pleasing Soraya. If she was going to be weighing her options soon enough, I needed to make her decision to cut me loose as difficult as possible. Pleasing her sexually was my favorite part of that plan.
On Monday morning, the lab came to my office at seven to collect my DNA. They had an appointment with Genevieve to take a sample from Chloe a few hours later. I’d paid a fortune for fast results and by Wednesday, I’d be certain whether I was a father or not.
A father.
Having never really had one of my own, the thought in itself was a novelty to me. If it was confirmed she was mine, there was no doubt I wanted to be involved in her life. Although I had no fucking idea what that looked like. What did a grown man do with a little girl who became his child overnight?
Monday night I had to go out of town, up to Boston for a quick meeting early Tuesday morning. My flight was delayed, and I was sitting in the airport reading the paper. Before Soraya, I started with the business section first. These days, I turned to Ask Ida, before catching up on the market watch. Between soap operas and now reading an advice column daily, I was fast becoming a *.
Dear Ida,
My mother was recently remarried. Bill, my new stepfather, has a nineteen-year-old son, whom I had never met until three weeks ago. Alec was away at college and came home to live with us for the summer. The problem is, I’m extremely attracted to Alec. I’m pretty sure the attraction is mutual since the sexual tension is so thick, sometimes it’s hard to breathe. Is it wrong to be with my stepbrother?
-Gretchen, Manhattan
Dear Gretchen,
While technically you are not blood-related, there is still a familial connection and many people will frown upon a relationship between the two of you. By your writing the letter, I suspect you think it’s not right to be with Alec, and you’re looking for someone to give you permission to go against your own beliefs. My advice to you is to be true to yourself, and the rest will fall into place.
I texted Soraya.
Graham: I’d fuck you even if you were my stepsister.
Soraya: LOL. You read the column?
Graham: I do. I like to figure out which ones you have a part in responding to.
Soraya: How can you tell which ones I responded to?
Graham: I just can.
Soraya: Did I write today’s response?
Graham: Do I get a prize if I answer correctly?
Soraya: I thought I gave you your prize last night.
Damn. That she did. For a few minutes, while she was sucking my cock, I thought about getting my own tongue pierced just so she could feel that cold metal ball on her clit. My staff would surely think I’d lost my mind entirely if I walked into a Monday morning staff meeting tripping over my words with a swollen, bedazzled tongue. It was bad enough this morning I was smiling in the middle of the meeting when my mind wandered.
When I didn’t respond right away, Soraya knew what I was doing.
Soraya: You’re thinking about last night, aren’t you?
Graham: I am. And it makes me want to leave the airport and blow off my morning meeting. Blow off for a blow job?
Soraya: Perv. So…did I write any part of the response to poor Gretchen today?
Graham: Not one damn word.
Soraya: Very good. What about yesterday? The woman who was stealing from her elderly uncle’s change jars?
Graham: Prisons are filled with people who started with petty theft.
Soraya: OMG! How did you know? That was literally the only sentence she kept from my response.
Graham: I know you.
Soraya: That’s a little bit scary!
Tell me about it. I’m scared fucking shitless these days.
My flight had just begun boarding when my phone buzzed in my hand. At first, I thought it was another text from Soraya. My smile dropped seeing Genevieve’s name flash on the screen. I considered not answering it, but then I realized it could be about Chloe.
“Genevieve.”
“Graham. How are you?”
“Busy. Is everything okay with Chloe?”
“She’s fine.”