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“We’ll have professional sex, I mean clinical sex... in order to make a baby,” I say.
I turn and leave his office. I hit the down button on the elevator, but it seems to be that time of day. By the time it finally arrives, Gabriel is by my side.
We step into the crowded elevator. My body has never been more aware of someone than it is right now. Gabriel and I stand shoulder to shoulder as we head down to the basement and climb into his car in silence.
What have I agreed to?
I stand under the shower. Fluttery sensations flood my chest and stomach. I let my hands slide over my body, my nipples harden and my body grows wet at the thought of what’s about to happen. My hands clench into fists, and I lean my forehead against the tiled wall. I sigh as I give in and let my fingers wander to the centre of my body. My lips and clit are swollen, and there’s an ache deep in my core that begs to be soothed. It’s been months since I last had sex, and a woman has needs, or that’s what I’m telling myself. Housewarming present or not, it’s not the same.
I towel off, careful to leave any natural lubricant in place.
I slip on my bra and a long, oversized t-shirt and make my way into my bedroom. The bed covers have already been pulled back, remaining in the same state as the earlier disaster. A knock sounds at the door, and I clear my throat.
“Come in,” I say.
Gabriel steps into the room, wearing a t-shirt and gym shorts. His eyes trail over my bare legs, and I swear he draws in a breath.
He makes his way around to the opposite side of the bed before sitting down on the edge.
I sit down and slide my legs under the covers. Turning my gaze away as he removes his lower clothing. This is a clinical procedure and, therefore, does not include me ogling his package. However, I am intrigued by what is coming.
Come on, girl.
I need to get my head out of the gutter.
The bed dips as Gabriel swings his body under the covers. A rush of warmth floods south. My body prepares itself for the onslaught. It hasn’t got the message this is not sex. It’s... God only knows what this is. Of course, it’s sex, just not that kind of sex. I begin counting down from ten to steady my breathing. All Gabriel is going to do is deposit his sperm directly into my vagina rather than use a container and a syringe.
I lean over and open my bedside drawer, handing him the bottle of lube the girls gave me.
A furrow appears between his brows before he appears to get the idea and squirts some onto his hand. I busy myself straightening the sheet above me, not wanting to appear like a pervert, gazing at my boss as he excites—no, prepares himself. Instead, I shimmy out of my panties and throw them out of the side of the bed. I lie back and stare at the ceiling. It’s flawless. Perfect. No cracks to divert my attention. I feel Gabriel moving next to me. His hand slides up and down, up and down. I bite my tongue to suppress the moan that threatens to escape.
Green lentils, large bag, two tins of tomatoes?—
“Leah.” Gabriel’s voice breaks into my distraction, and I look sideways to see him staring at me. “You’ll need this,” he says, handing me the bottle of lube.
No, I really don’t, I almost say, but I hold my tongue. How can I tell him I’m melting in a puddle of goo at the thought of what we’re about to do? How my body is in natural sexual overdrive? I can feel the wetness coating the inside of my thighs.
I take it and, squirt some onto my fingers, letting my hand slide between my thighs. The sensation of the cool lubricant on my already overheated flesh is almost more than I can take. I bite my bottom lip to stifle the moan that threatens, hoping it looks like I’m concentrating on the task at hand.
“Are you ready?” Gabriel asks quietly, his eyes burning into me.
“Yes,” I say.
I lie back against my pillow and open my legs under the covers.
Gabriel moves, climbing over my leg and situating himself between my thighs. His body looms over mine, so close and yet so far, his t-shirt is stretched over his broad chest, his arms firmly on either side of me, as he takes his weight on his forearms. His aftershave… I stop myself from inhaling deeply.
Green lentils, extra large bag, two tins of tomatoes.
I fix my gaze on a point on the ceiling over Gabriel’s shoulder until his voice pulls me once again into the present.
“How do you want to do this?” he asks, his voice so close to my face I can feel his breath on my cheek. I allow my eyes to meet his, almost drowning in their dark depths.
Get a grip, Leah!
Something hard and hot hits my thigh. I jump. My forehead clashes with Gabriel’s cheek. He snaps his head back.
“Sorry,” we both say together, a flush forming on his cheeks.
