Suddenly, though, her crying had me thinking all kinds of new things. Who hurt her? I'll kill him. Why does she like that guy and not me?
I shake myself back to the present, though, to her response when I finally got her to tell me what the hell is going on. "You want a baby?"
She sucks in another deep breath and sighs at the ceiling. Her eyes are still red from crying, but even with that, she's as gorgeous as ever, her mouth pursed in the sexy little pout I love, her forehead just the tiniest bit creased, the way it gets when she's stressed at work. Nights like this I'd usually suggest we go bar-hopping and blow off some steam by finding hookups. But she's clearly not in the mood for that right now.
A baby?
"You know my mom had me by herself," Rina's saying.
"Of course, same as my mom did," I reply. Who isn't raised in a single-parent household in this day and age?
"And your mom was fine with it, wasn't she?" Rina asks.
"Well, it's not like she had a choice. My dad was a total deadbeat. But she never complained about it. Well, except when she had to pay for childcare while she was at work," I add, remembering.
Rina huffs out a sigh. "I want to have a baby. I'm already the same age Mom was when she had me, and I'm only getting older, I don't want to be an old mom. But you know me, I don't really... do relationships," she points out.
"As we were just saying," I agree.
"So... I tried to go to a clinic. I found a donor and everything."
"When were you going to mention this?" I ask, bewildered. Normally Rina and I talk about everything. Or so I thought.
"I didn't want to tell you yet, not until I knew if it worked. I didn’t know when I'd need to move out or anything. I figured once I was pregnant I'd start to shop for a new place."
Move out? My stomach rolls again at the thought of it, and I have to tense my muscles to keep from visibly reacting. But I don't want to live with anyone else.
Focus, Cannon. Rina's hurting. That's what matters now. "So, er... you got a donor then? At the clinic?" I ask, not sure how these things work.
She shook her head. "I had one picked out. I was supposed to go today and get inseminated. But..." She swallows hard. I can see this is really taking a toll on her. It makes my chest hurt in weird, confusing ways to see her like this.
I reach out and catch her hand again. Twine her small, narrow fingers between mine, in the one small gesture of comfort I can offer.
She shoots me a sad half-smile. "Some guy, one of the donors, came in and was freaking out at the woman who used his sample. He didn't like the idea of having a kid out there in the world he didn't know, but he was totally crazy. And then I thought, what if the donor I picked did something like that? What if that stranger turned out to be a total nut job?"
"That wouldn't be ideal," I agree with a frown.
"So I didn't go through with it. But now..." She sucks in another deep breath. "Now, no baby. And I'm back to square one."
"I'm sorry, Rina." I tug her hand, pull her toward me. She leans over and lets herself fall against my chest, her head pillowed on my pecs. I close my eyes when her soft cheek touches my chest. I can't help it. Just feeling her there, pressed against me, has me thinking improper thoughts. Thinking about how fucking incredible she smells. She uses the same jasmine soap every day, this stuff she gets from the corner store, or actually, makes me pick up when I go on beer runs. I secretly don't mind because I love the smell of it and the way it mingles with her scent.
I close my eyes, savoring having her in my arms, if only for a moment.
That, and praying that she doesn't notice the way my jeans are getting tighter, as all the blood in my head starts to rush south. Not now, I try and tell myself.
Rina pulls back with another deep breath, and I tense, thinking she's about to say something, call me out for getting too touchy or something. But instead, she stares at me with a frown, eyes assessing in a way I've never seen before. Then her gaze drops to travel along my body, and I lift a brow.
Is she checking me out?
"Rina?" I prompt.
"You like NSA agreements," she says. "You don't like relationships."
"True."
"I don't like relationships either," she replies. "And I need a baby. A sperm donor, really. Who I trust." She locks eyes with me. "Someone I know won't get emotional or over-attached or crazy later down the line."
Is she asking what I think she's asking?
I stare into those cool blue eyes of hers. "What exactly are you asking, Rina?"
She bites her lower lip. Fuck, it's sexy when she does that. Another curl of desire runs through my gut. I shift in my seat, hoping that will disguise the way my cock is growing harder in my jeans at the thought of it. She wants me to impregnate her?
Not going to lie, the thought of that is actually pretty fucking hot.
"Look, Cannon... I don't want to mess up our friendship. I know we're coworkers, we live together, but... we're both good at NSA, you said it yourself. Pot and kettle." She dares a tiny grin. "Would... would it be weird if we... I mean, you like sex, I like sex, I need a baby, there's an easy way to make a baby..."
I lift a brow, and she stops babbling. "You want me to fuck you," I say.
Her cheeks flare bright red. But she doesn't remove her eyes from mine. She keeps them laser-focused, intent on her goal. I've always respected that about Rina. She's goal-oriented to the max. And the girl always gets what she wants. In work and in play. "Only when I'm ovulating," she says. "Look."
She digs into her pocket and pulls out her phone. A few taps later, she's showing me a chart she made. It's color-coded, with little red hearts on one week of the month, and green hearts a few days of the month too. One of those green hearts lands on today, I notice, and there's another one on the screen tomorrow. "These green hearts are the days when I have the maximum chance of getting pregnant," she says, tapping her finger on the screen. "We'd make a schedule. We have sex on those days, you know, to maximize our chances."
I have to choke down a laugh at the technical way she's talking about this. "Yes, I am aware how babies are made," I reply with a single raised brow.
Her cheeks, if possible, glow even redder at that. "So, we keep it professional. Sex on those days only, no attachment, nothing else changes in our friendship or our working together. And when you... when you knock me up," she says, with a quick glance at my face, which only makes the growing tightness in my jeans worse, "then it all stops. I move out, get my own apartment, and we both move on with our lives. And I won't ask you to be involved with the baby or anything, no child support, I can pay for my own kid. This will be completely my own decision. I'll write us up a contract."
I laugh and reach out to cup my hands around hers, which have started to quiver a little where she's gripping the phone like a lifeline. "No contract necessary, Rina," I say. "We've known each other for how long now, seven years?"
"We're both lawyers," she points out. "We should always get things in writing, we know that."
"Yes, but not with you," I reply, rolling my eyes at the thought. "I trust you. And you're right, we're both great at NSA." I grin a little, my gaze roaming down her body. "Besides, this should be fun. Sex should be fun."
She swallows audibly, and I catch her casting another longing glance at my abs.
Damn. I knew Rina was awkward and pretty shy, at least around people she didn't know well, but I thought I knew how to read her reaction to me. I thought she only thought of me as a friend, nothing physical. Has she been attracted to me all along, at least a little bit? The
way I’m attracted to her?
The more you know.
"Okay. So we're agreed." She holds out a hand.
I smirk, but reach up to shake her on it. "Agreed." I cast one last glance at her phone chart. "When should we start, tonight?" I lean closer, eyes locked on hers.
But she slides backward off the couch and seems to catch her breath, a little nervous. "I'm still kind of recovering from the clinic. And besides, I..." She glances at me again. This time her gaze lingers on my crotch. I don't bother to hide my hard-on anymore, not now that I know what she really wants.
I can already picture how it will be. I've fucked plenty of girls around this apartment, I know all the best spots. The shower in my room with the detachable shower head, the kitchen counter which is at just the right height for me to pick girls up and spread their legs around my hips. This couch, which is pretty comfortable to bend girls over the arm of, or the leather reclining chair where I could pull her across to straddle and ride my cock. I like that idea best, the thought of watching her sexy curves as she bounces up and down on my shaft, her head falling back with pleasure...
"I've got to shower, and I have work early," she stammers. "Tomorrow?"
My eyes are practically on fire when they meet hers, and I don't bother to conceal my grin when I agree. "Tomorrow it is," I tell her.
3
Rina
Oh God. Was this a terrible idea?
I'm standing in my bathroom staring at myself in the mirror. Already things are different. There's a charge in the apartment that never existed before. I went out of my room to get a glass of water before I came in to get ready for bed, and the whole time I kept stealing glances at Cannon, still sitting shirtless on the couch right where I left him. I could feel him watching me too, could hear the tension in his voice when he called out goodnight.
It just reminds me all over again of the way he looked at me tonight after my suggestion. With whole new eyes, like he'd never seen me before.