I lift his hand and kiss his fingertips. “I want you.”

“Tell me it’s only me that you want to fuck this beautiful pussy of yours.”

“It’s only you.”

My uneven breaths echo throughout the quiet room, and I move against him, only for him to stop me once again.

“Tell me,” he whispers. “Tell me it’s only me that will ever be inside you from this moment on.”

My eyes connect with his, attempting to understand what he just demanded of me. He wants me for the rest of his life? Or am I signing a contract to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight? His eyes show no mercy, fixated on my lips and waiting impatiently for my answer.

This is a heavy question from someone buried inside me, and from someone who is engaged. Everything we are doing is completely and morally wrong. We are hurting others. We are the driving force in this sick and twisted game, leaving the pawns to hurt and suffer from our indiscretion.

But I don’t care.

I want him.

All of him.

And right now, in this deep and intimate moment, I want only him for the rest of my life.

“It’s only you…you will be the only one to ever be inside me and make me feel this way from this moment on.”

Promises are just promises, made to be broken if they are built on lies.

Not wasting any time, he pushes me back as the tip of his pierced cock rubs against my wall. He pulls me forward again, this time fast and steady. I ride him, and just when I know my body is ready to explode, I warn him in a high-pitched breath, “Haden, I’m going to…”

Releasing my inhibitions, I scream as the orgasm spreads throughout my whole body, causing me to see only stars in the dark room. He follows, picking up the pace, holding a deep breath until he releases and cries out, “Fuck!!”

Slowing down the pace till I’m at a standstill, my tired body falls onto his, careful of my protruding stomach.

In silence, with him still inside me, we lay together, my head lying against his chest. His heart is beating loud, and I wonder if it beats for me…maybe only me?

“Presley,” he murmurs, running his hands through my hair.

“Mmm…”

“Presley…”

I open my eyes and Haden is sitting on the chair beside the table, dressed in his jeans and a tee. The sunlight is filtering through the sheer white curtains and into the room. I squint my eyes and then open them abruptly.

“We need to leave in an hour and I’ve already ordered you breakfast.” He moves his attention to his cell, typing without looking at me.

It was just a dream.

Fuck! What the hell did my imagination go and do? It made me think that Haden would give me the best sex of my life, and worst of all, that he wanted only me. That I was in love with him.

In my awkward and compromising position, I roll towards the other side of the bed which is in closer proximity to the bathroom door. I quickly get out and lock the door behind me. Staring in the mirror while I allow the water to run, my body appears flushed, my hair is a tangled wild mess, and my lips look swollen and plump. What a fucking dream! I have no choice but to take a cold shower to wash off the intense desire I have for him.

It all felt so real, the way he touched me, the words he spoke…ARGH!

I exit the bathroom, dressed and with my hair pulled back into a ponytail. Food sits on the table, and if it wasn’t for the baby, I would be out of this room so fast, hungry or not. I eat my toast in silence and follow by polishing off some juice.

“You ready to go?” he asks, a little too politely for my liking.

I simply nod, unable to make conversation.

“Are you okay? You were having a restless sleep.”

I grab my purse and pull my suitcase along. “Just a nightmare.”

“Me too. Must be the heat in the room.”

“Maybe. Thank God it wasn’t real.”

It’s the last thing I mumble before we exit the room and head back to reality.

I was quiet the entire flight home, trying my damn hardest to ignore a dream that felt entirely real. Luckily, we weren’t sitting together; the overweight man next to me and his body odor were more pleasing than the Jerk himself.

At the airport, it was an obligatory goodbye before we parted our ways.

I made it my priority upon our return to attend the paternity test. It was the only communication we had, and even then, it was short and to the point. Soon he would have the answer he so desperately craved, and maybe luck would be on both our sides and it would be Jason’s. Yes, I was that fucked up that I prayed for the easier way out of this whole mess.

Days passed without us talking at work or even via text, and after a week, I let it all go. Whatever bond, friendship, or connection we had over that weekend had passed. It was strictly business, and even then he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. I wasn’t sure what I did wrong; after all, he was the one who invaded my dreams and gave me the best sex of my life.

Distracting myself came easy when I focused my energy on moving into Kate’s. Boxes were all packed and ready to go, neatly organized into categories, color-coded, and alphabetically in order. I placed the remaining boxes into storage along with some furniture till I could figure out my next move. The apartments were overpriced in the city, and while we got top dollar for ours, I had a child to think about. A whole new life I had to worry about for at least eighteen years.

It begged the question of whether or not I would settle down in the city. I did have a job to think about, but was certain I could pick one up on the west coast. I also took the liberty of researching my rights as the primary parent, and whether or not I could make a decision like that.

Still in my second trimester, what I thought would be a walk in the park was turning out to be more like a trip down Agony Lane. My ankles (or should I say cankles) disappeared, along with my waistline. The only thing that kept me sane was Kate. She was a hell of a lot of fun, told ridiculous stories about herself and her wild friends, plus she was a great listener.

“So did the Jerk speak to you today?” she asks, biting into a stick of celery.

“Yes. But it was only to ask me where we kept the scissors in the stationary room. Trust me, it was as formal as any stationary room exchange could be.”

“Then you didn’t tell him about the scan next week? Presley, I can come if you need me,” she offers.

I have learned a very important thing about Kate; she is a great friend. Not only does she listen to me complain about the Jerk for countless hours, she is willing to rearrange her schedule to attend my appointment with me. In all fairness, I spent countless hours listening to the drama unfold with her secret lover. The thing I didn’t get about the whole situation was why Kate allowed herself to be manipulated by this pathetic excuse of a man. She is gorgeous and tall with an athletic build. Her shimmering blonde hair is cut just below her chin, perfectly straightened like she just stepped out of a salon. She has these cute freckles that spread across her cheeks and nose, covering her pale British skin. Plus she has this cheeky smile, with a dimple on the left side of her face.

Yet something about this man, the power he held, or the fact that he was some secret underground boss, drew her in to the point that she was under his bewitching spell and couldn’t break free.

“I promise I’ll tell him, and thanks for the offer.”

“We have sucky love lives,” she complains, sinking into the couch with the remote.

“Yep, we sure do. What’s the latest on your secret mystery man?”