I consider telling her about Emmy, about what’s going to happen between us just as soon as I get all this mess sorted out. But it’s too early. I haven’t even told Emmy what’s going on yet, so I lie, “Wasn’t feeling a hundred percent. I decided to go home early and get some sleep, that’s all. Take care of myself better, like you said.”
“All right. Well, if you’re not better when you wake up in the morning, I want you to go see your doctor, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Sleep well, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight. Love you, Mom.”
A few minutes later, I’m back in my bedroom, slipping into the sheets where her scent is still turning me into some sort of monster.
I run my hand over the faint outline of her release on the white fabric, and my cock twitches, and drops of cum seep from the tip. I already ache for her, my balls tight, ready to empty into her soft warmth. Ready for my seed to find its home deep inside her.
I roll onto my stomach, connecting my hard cock with her now dried cum, and imagine that wetness soaking my cock and dripping from my balls as I fuck down into her with nothing between us. Nothing to stop my seed being planted.
That idea’s got me spinning. I’ve never even considered being a father. But since the first moment I saw Emmy, images of her round with my baby have tortured my mind.
She’s too young for me, I know that, but I don’t care.
Let people stare. Let them wonder if I’m her father or her husband.
Husband.
Fuck. That’s something else I’ve never thought of, and now it’s becoming my obsession.
To make her my wife.
To breed my babies into her so the world knows who she belongs to and that she’s never getting away.
I rub myself on the sheets, dry humping my mattress, imagining her under me. I want relief, but the only thing that will be good enough is her, so I’ll put up with the frustration until the time is right.
In less than twenty-four hours, I’ve become an out-of-control, obsessed beast, hell-bent on securing her in my life, not just for a moment but forever.
I can still hear her sugary-sweet voice saying my name. I’ve memorized every word she said to me, every intonation of every syllable, playing them over and over in my mind until I can’t stand it anymore.
I turn over, throw an arm over my eyes, and when I close them all I see is her sweet face looking at me from my bed, her lush body naked, from where I’m lying right now, knowing how close I came to claiming what is already mine in my eyes.
Finally, I let sleep take me for a few hours, determined that when tomorrow comes, I will track her down and finish what we started.
Six
Emmy
GOD, PLEASE DON’T LET me throw up.
I’m sitting outside Carver’s office, he’s on the phone but I can’t make out what he’s saying. There’s a harsh snip in his voice, and every part of me knows that whatever is upsetting him has something to do with me.
After I got home last night I barely slept. I knew Marshall would more than likely call the agency and give them an earful about coming home and finding me sleeping in his bed. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t seem too upset at the time; the moment his girlfriend got home, he would have told her it was all me and he was trying to get rid of me.
I drop my head into my hands, resting my elbows on my knees, and wonder how I got myself into such a mess.
When my phone rang at seven-thirty this morning, I knew it would be a call from my work, either telling me I was fired or calling me into the office. It was Carver himself, clearly displeased, and the tone of his voice made my stomach turn.
The gist of the conversation was that I needed to get to the office immediately, and I’m sure it’s just a formality to terminate me face to face.
I feel so alone. Ever since my grandparents passed away, my heart has been in a box.
They raised me after my own parents died, then in the last few years, when their health declined, I took care of them at home. I dropped out of high school, finishing online so I could provide their care not trusting anyone else or able to afford anything else. There was no way I was going to let them go to a nursing home on assistance and although the effort and energy it took to take care of them almost killed me, I sleep better knowing I did my best and kept them at home until the very end.
They left me a small inheritance, including their house, which my grandfather built himself on ten acres back in the woods.