The Knocked Up Plan

After I pull out, my first instinct is to look for the condom and toss it. I chuckle when I realize—no shit—I’m bareback and supposed to be.

Nicole is still on her stomach. Her face is pressed to the side. Her eyes are glossy and her cheeks are flushed. I’ve killed her with her orgasm.

“Hey,” I say gently, nudging her shoulder. “You need to get on your back and lie flat for a few minutes, okay?”

She smiles woozily. “That’s the second position from your top five.”

“It is. It’ll help give you a better chance.” I roll her over and the look on her face is such dreamy happiness that it does something funny to me. It makes me bend down and kiss her tenderly on her forehead. “I hope it worked.”

“Me, too.”

“Do you know it increases the chances a little bit more since you came?”

“I think I read that somewhere, too.”

“I did a little reading myself this week. Supposedly, it helps the swimmers reach their destination. That’s all well and good, but I’m just a big fan of you coming.”

She offers another sexy smile.

I adjust her, slide a pillow under her ass, elevating her. I hand her a tissue, and I head in the direction of her bathroom to clean up.

When I return, I join her on the couch, because I don’t want to leave just yet.

But soon enough, I know there won’t be a reason to stay.

My job for tonight is done.





Fifteen





Top Five Signs You’re Ridiculously Attracted to Someone You Work With



* * *



By Nicole Powers



* * *



1. You admire his ass when you see him in the hall.

2. His sexy, flirty smile sends tingles all over you.

3. You look for excuses to walk past his office.

4. You linger in the break room when he’s there.

5. You ask him to bang you in any position, anytime, anywhere.





* * *



All clear?



* * *



Fine, I’ll elaborate, if you insist. Ever been in a situation where you have a super handsome co-worker? We’re talking Clark Kent cheekbones, see-inside-my-soul blue eyes, and a world-class athletic body. Maybe he’s also bursting with charm, wit, and sex appeal. We are talking the real deal, the full enchilada, the whole shebang.



* * *



Somehow, you’ve worked with this level of handsomeness without turning into a swoony puddle every day. That’s because you’re a grown-ass woman and you’re able to separate your admiration of his attributes from attraction. After all, you can admire a Monet and not want to bang it.



* * *



But then, all of a sudden, you want to hump Water Lilies. How did this shift occur? Allow me to walk you through the turning points on the path to full-blown attraction.





* * *



1. It starts with a new way of seeing someone.



* * *



Perhaps you’ve played together on a co-ed softball team. Maybe you have regular lunches at your favorite deli, the one with the amazing Chinese chicken salad. Or you’ve simply exchanged banter in the elevator. Then, one day, you ask him for a favor. Could be big. Could be small. You might need him to move furniture for you, lift a vase onto the highest shelf, or deal with the spider on your wall. Possibly, the favor is much bigger. Regardless of whether you ask him to hand you a ream of paper or to give you a kidney, the dynamic shifts. You see him in a new way.





* * *



2. Your mind opens to possibilities.



* * *



You notice things you never saw before. You give yourself permission to imagine. What would it be like if he touches me here? If he kisses me there? If he strips me to nothing and has his wicked way with me? The possibilities of those what ifs parade before you in your daydreams. Soon, all that wondering changes the state of play.





* * *



3. The first kiss lights up the night.



* * *



Well, duh.



* * *



I have no patience for boring kisses. Merely adequate lip-locks can suck it. Kissing should be starlight and fireworks. A first kiss should be butterflies in your belly, wobbles in your knees.



* * *



You should feel it everywhere. In your bones. In your eyelashes. In your fingertips.



* * *



Yes, I’ll admit that some kisses are like wine and improve with age. But no kiss has ever gone from dull to bowl-me-over. Don’t settle for ordinary kisses.



* * *



Kisses are the sustenance of love. They will feed you.





* * *



4. When you take it to the next level, and you are hot to trot.



* * *



The kisses rocket from a slow slide of lips to an absolute devouring. Your libido takes the wheel. When you do the deed, you get so lost in the moment that you’re telling him how turned on you are, how good it is, how much you want that brass ring.



* * *



When he gives it to you, you don’t care that the neighbors can surely hear your cries, and you don’t care if the people in the apartment across the street hear, too.



* * *



Briefly, you wonder how it got to this point. How you went from an admiring glance in the hallway to getting on your hands and knees and begging him. Then, you stop wondering because . . .





* * *



5. You do it again and again and again, and it gets better.



* * *



Whoever this lucky bitch is, I’m jealous of her. But we can all be her. Be bold. Ask for what you want. You never know—you just might get it.



* * *



You might get it really good.





Sixteen





Ryder

“I can’t believe it’s that easy. All you have to do is catch her, and then you drop her into the net?”

That’s today’s question from one of the callers to my show. As per Cal’s request, the dating guide is getting the full treatment—columns as well as lots of radio time. “You got it, man. That’s what you do. And let me tell you, she’ll be wearing a big, happy smile,” I say into the mic, picturing Nicole’s face after our acrobatics, painted in pure exhilaration.

“Awesome,” the caller says in a surfer-dude voice. I’m expecting him to say I’m stoked next. “And will this help her want to go to bed with me?”

“There are never any guarantees of that,” I tell him. Unless you sign a deal to knock up a woman. I keep that tidbit to myself.

He huffs. “But that’s what I want most. That’s why I listen to your show. I want the best tips to get a woman into my bed, and I don’t want to put out the dough for a trapeze lesson if there’s no shot.”

Mayday, mayday.

A geometric vision appears in front of me. Cal stalks the hallway, staring with beady, judgy eyes through the studio window. I make a wrap-it-up motion with my index finger to my producer, Jason, signaling to end this call. I’d end it regardless, but Cal makes me extra antsy. The leash he has on me is so short I can feel it choking already.