The Goal
Page 46
“I promise you I didn’t.” I’m lying. It’s definitely more money than I’ve ever spent on a girl before, but I couldn’t resist.
One of Mom’s clients makes custom leather goods and sells them online, and she let me buy Sabrina’s gift at cost because there was a flaw in the leather. The defect is on the inside, but apparently for the prices she charges, even that requires a discount. I was thrilled to buy it. My mom? Not so much. She felt it was too expensive to buy for a girl I barely know, but this had Sabrina stamped all over it.
Beside me, she rips open the paper and then lifts off the lid. When the rich smell of leather wafts up, her mouth forms a perfect circle of surprise.
“What did you get?” she asks, but it’s not a question I’m required to answer. Her hands rip away the tissue paper to reveal the burnished leather and brass buckles of a briefcase.
“Oh my God, this is so gorgeous!”
I don’t have to ask if she loves it. It’s in every gasp and loving caress of the leather. Oh yeah, nailed it.
“Did I do okay?” I smile as I watch her lift every flap and unzip every zipper. She examines it, flipping it over and over. She even stands up to pose with it.
“You did amazing.” She finally sets the bag to the side and launches herself at me. “Amazing,” she repeats, punctuating that word with a kiss. “Now it’s my turn to give you a present.”
Licking her lips, she proceeds to move down my body and unzip my jeans.
My dick jumps out like it’s on a spring. She circles me with her hand and then gives me the dirtiest, most devilish grin before swallowing me to the back of her throat.
Holy shit, that’s good. I cup her head as she blows me, admiring the way her ass juts in the air as she bends forward to take more of me in her mouth. I reach over and slide my hand underneath the satin of her shorts until my fingers meet her soaked pussy.
And suddenly her mouth on my cock isn’t enough. I’ve got to be inside her.
I lift her up and in three strides have her down on the bed. She claws at my clothes. I tear at hers. We’re hasty, somewhat uncoordinated, and full of need.
I grab the condom from my jeans and am inside her in the next breath. She’s coming three strokes later.
“It’s been a while,” she gasps.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I slow down, trying to prolong the pleasure for as long as humanly possible.
But as usual, Sabrina has other ideas.
“Come on, Tuck. Fuck me hard.”
She digs her nails into my ass and I’m gone.
I hammer into her hard enough to drive her from one side of the bed to the other. She comes again and I finally let go.
I love this girl. Love her to death. The words are on the tip of my tongue and I barely manage to swallow them back. She’s not certain of me yet. I need to bide my time, but as long as I’m in the game, I’m not worried about the outcome.
“Gonna take care of the condom,” I murmur, and she nods sleepily.
When I get out of the bathroom, she’s tucked under the covers, fast asleep.
Smiling, I crawl in next to her, propping myself up on an elbow to stare at her beautiful face. Her thick lashes lay on her cheeks, and there’s a satisfied smile on her lips. To the outside world, Sabrina James puts on a good show of being tough and impervious to it all, but in reality, she’s vulnerable and sweet and precious.
I slide an arm under her neck, and even in slumber she turns into me, her legs twining with mine. We sleep wrapped up in each other. Two halves of a bigger, better whole.
*
The sound of retching wakes me up. Someone is puking her guts out in the bathroom. I glance at the clock—it’s not even six.
I stumble out of the bed, naked and not quite fully awake yet.
In the bathroom, I find Sabrina on her knees, bent over and heaving into the toilet.
I’m instantly alert. I grab a towel off the rack and wrap it around her shoulders. “What do you need?” I ask in a gentle voice.
She shakes her head wordlessly and then slumps against my legs. I reach down to smooth her hair away from her head, worry spiking in my blood. What the fuck should I do?
Without moving her, I reach behind me and fill a glass with water, then drop down on my haunches and offer her the glass.
“Thanks.” She accepts the glass with a trembling hand.
I stroke her back as she takes a timid sip. “Take your time.”
In my head, I’m already dialing up doctors and wheeling her into the emergency room, but I’ve got to frame it right or I know she’ll object. Before I can even broach the subject with her, she lurches forward and throws up the water she just drank.
I wait until she settles down again before lifting her into my arms and carrying her back to bed. “I’m taking you to a doctor,” I announce.
“No.” She grabs my wrist, but her grip is limp. “I’ll be fine in a few hours. I just overdid it this week.” Tears stain her face. “God, that was gross. I’m sorry.”
“Fuck, baby, who cares?” I hold her against my chest as I clear the sheets away for her.
Once I have her tucked in, I leave to get a washcloth and another glass of water. On my way back to the bed, I snag the trashcan and place it on the floor next to her.
I hate how miserable she looks, and my nurturing side kicks in as I lay the washcloth across her forehead. “You’ve been throwing up like this every day for how long?”
“I don’t know. A while. I caught a bug. Nana had it first and she’s finally gotten over it. I just need to wait it out. I’ll feel better in a few hours.”
“You got a fever? Should I get you some aspirin?” I press the back of my hand against her face. It doesn’t feel flushed.
“No fever,” she mumbles. “Just queasy and tired.”
An alarm bell rings in my head.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I run through her symptoms. The sickness in the morning, tapering off in the afternoons, the really tender breasts, her feelings of fatigue. No signs of fever. The fact that she’s never once had her period, or at least mentioned it, in the two-odd months we’ve been screwing.
“Are you pregnant?” I blurt out.
Her eyelids snap open. “What?”
“Pregnant.” I tick off her symptoms on each of my fingers, ending with the lack of period.
“No. I’m not. I just had my period…” She pauses and thinks. Her face goes white. “Close to three months ago,” she whispers. “But…I’ve always had light periods, even on the pill. And I’ve been spotting the last couple of months. I thought…”
One of Mom’s clients makes custom leather goods and sells them online, and she let me buy Sabrina’s gift at cost because there was a flaw in the leather. The defect is on the inside, but apparently for the prices she charges, even that requires a discount. I was thrilled to buy it. My mom? Not so much. She felt it was too expensive to buy for a girl I barely know, but this had Sabrina stamped all over it.
Beside me, she rips open the paper and then lifts off the lid. When the rich smell of leather wafts up, her mouth forms a perfect circle of surprise.
“What did you get?” she asks, but it’s not a question I’m required to answer. Her hands rip away the tissue paper to reveal the burnished leather and brass buckles of a briefcase.
“Oh my God, this is so gorgeous!”
I don’t have to ask if she loves it. It’s in every gasp and loving caress of the leather. Oh yeah, nailed it.
“Did I do okay?” I smile as I watch her lift every flap and unzip every zipper. She examines it, flipping it over and over. She even stands up to pose with it.
“You did amazing.” She finally sets the bag to the side and launches herself at me. “Amazing,” she repeats, punctuating that word with a kiss. “Now it’s my turn to give you a present.”
Licking her lips, she proceeds to move down my body and unzip my jeans.
My dick jumps out like it’s on a spring. She circles me with her hand and then gives me the dirtiest, most devilish grin before swallowing me to the back of her throat.
Holy shit, that’s good. I cup her head as she blows me, admiring the way her ass juts in the air as she bends forward to take more of me in her mouth. I reach over and slide my hand underneath the satin of her shorts until my fingers meet her soaked pussy.
And suddenly her mouth on my cock isn’t enough. I’ve got to be inside her.
I lift her up and in three strides have her down on the bed. She claws at my clothes. I tear at hers. We’re hasty, somewhat uncoordinated, and full of need.
I grab the condom from my jeans and am inside her in the next breath. She’s coming three strokes later.
“It’s been a while,” she gasps.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I slow down, trying to prolong the pleasure for as long as humanly possible.
But as usual, Sabrina has other ideas.
“Come on, Tuck. Fuck me hard.”
She digs her nails into my ass and I’m gone.
I hammer into her hard enough to drive her from one side of the bed to the other. She comes again and I finally let go.
I love this girl. Love her to death. The words are on the tip of my tongue and I barely manage to swallow them back. She’s not certain of me yet. I need to bide my time, but as long as I’m in the game, I’m not worried about the outcome.
“Gonna take care of the condom,” I murmur, and she nods sleepily.
When I get out of the bathroom, she’s tucked under the covers, fast asleep.
Smiling, I crawl in next to her, propping myself up on an elbow to stare at her beautiful face. Her thick lashes lay on her cheeks, and there’s a satisfied smile on her lips. To the outside world, Sabrina James puts on a good show of being tough and impervious to it all, but in reality, she’s vulnerable and sweet and precious.
I slide an arm under her neck, and even in slumber she turns into me, her legs twining with mine. We sleep wrapped up in each other. Two halves of a bigger, better whole.
*
The sound of retching wakes me up. Someone is puking her guts out in the bathroom. I glance at the clock—it’s not even six.
I stumble out of the bed, naked and not quite fully awake yet.
In the bathroom, I find Sabrina on her knees, bent over and heaving into the toilet.
I’m instantly alert. I grab a towel off the rack and wrap it around her shoulders. “What do you need?” I ask in a gentle voice.
She shakes her head wordlessly and then slumps against my legs. I reach down to smooth her hair away from her head, worry spiking in my blood. What the fuck should I do?
Without moving her, I reach behind me and fill a glass with water, then drop down on my haunches and offer her the glass.
“Thanks.” She accepts the glass with a trembling hand.
I stroke her back as she takes a timid sip. “Take your time.”
In my head, I’m already dialing up doctors and wheeling her into the emergency room, but I’ve got to frame it right or I know she’ll object. Before I can even broach the subject with her, she lurches forward and throws up the water she just drank.
I wait until she settles down again before lifting her into my arms and carrying her back to bed. “I’m taking you to a doctor,” I announce.
“No.” She grabs my wrist, but her grip is limp. “I’ll be fine in a few hours. I just overdid it this week.” Tears stain her face. “God, that was gross. I’m sorry.”
“Fuck, baby, who cares?” I hold her against my chest as I clear the sheets away for her.
Once I have her tucked in, I leave to get a washcloth and another glass of water. On my way back to the bed, I snag the trashcan and place it on the floor next to her.
I hate how miserable she looks, and my nurturing side kicks in as I lay the washcloth across her forehead. “You’ve been throwing up like this every day for how long?”
“I don’t know. A while. I caught a bug. Nana had it first and she’s finally gotten over it. I just need to wait it out. I’ll feel better in a few hours.”
“You got a fever? Should I get you some aspirin?” I press the back of my hand against her face. It doesn’t feel flushed.
“No fever,” she mumbles. “Just queasy and tired.”
An alarm bell rings in my head.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I run through her symptoms. The sickness in the morning, tapering off in the afternoons, the really tender breasts, her feelings of fatigue. No signs of fever. The fact that she’s never once had her period, or at least mentioned it, in the two-odd months we’ve been screwing.
“Are you pregnant?” I blurt out.
Her eyelids snap open. “What?”
“Pregnant.” I tick off her symptoms on each of my fingers, ending with the lack of period.
“No. I’m not. I just had my period…” She pauses and thinks. Her face goes white. “Close to three months ago,” she whispers. “But…I’ve always had light periods, even on the pill. And I’ve been spotting the last couple of months. I thought…”
