Baby Number Two(31)

"Anyway, I better go," Jack spoke up when I didn't say anything,  starting for the door. "It's only a matter of time before Lauren starts  blowing up my phone."



Lauren. Right. I'd almost managed to forget she even existed. I got up  to follow Jack out onto the front porch, watching as he made his way  down the driveway to his car. It killed me to know he was going home to a  woman who wasn't me, but I was also glad to finally have the chance to  fully digest everything that had just transpired between us.



I returned inside the house once Jack drove off, taking a hot shower  before donning my favorite silk nightgown. I was just about to turn off  the lights and call it a night when I heard a soft rapping at my front  door.



"It's me again," Jack said, his deep voice ringing through the wood.



Not wanting him to see how indiscrete I was, I opened the door partway to look out at him. "Did you forget something?"



"Yeah," Jack said, pushing his way inside. "This."



Jack swept me up in his arms, bringing his mouth down hard against mine.  I started to protest, but any strength I had dwindled the moment he  lifted me off the ground and pinned me against the wall.



We stayed in that position getting reacquainted with each other's touch  for what felt like an eternity. When Jack's lips finally slipped from  mine, they did so only to explore the slope of my neck, causing an all  too familiar heat to pool between my legs.



"Bedroom," I panted, dragging him towards it. Within seconds we were  both close to naked, tangled beneath my sheets the way we were so many  times in our youth.



Jack's calloused fingers skimmed my dark flesh, eventually snaking their  way inside my panties to feel my wetness. "Be honest," he whispered,  sinking his fingers deeper inside of me. "You've never let anyone else  fuck you without a condom, right?"



I shook my head, breathing hard.



Jack looked pleased by that. "Good," he said rather cockily, thrusting  all nine inches of himself deep inside of me. I let out a pained gasp,  but eventually the pain dissipated and was replaced by something a whole  lot more like pleasure.                       
       
           



       



Jack pounded into me hard and fast, keeping one hand pressed against the  headboard and the other flush against my waist. I dug my fingers into  his back as his strokes became more powerful, and he faltered for only a  second before forcing me onto my stomach.



I gasped when I felt Jack's palm make hard contact with my ass. He  proceeded to slap his dick against that very spot, pushing his way back  inside of me with little warning.



Jack fucked me hard and thoroughly, letting out a ragged breath when we  both reached our peaks at the same time. He collapsed on top of me once  we started to come down from it, pressing a soft kiss against my  forehead as he struggled to catch his breath. "No," he whispered,  brushing a few wild strands of hair out of my face to look me in the  eye.



"No what?" I questioned, holding him back from kissing me. Regret was  already starting to set in. I couldn't bare the thought of sharing any  further intimacy with him.



"The answer to your question," Jack said, speaking more to himself than to me. "It's no."



Maybe it was all the alcohol, or the presence of the tiny voice in the  back of my head that wouldn't stop scolding me for what I'd just let  happen, but I still wasn't following. "My question?"



"We're not over," Jack clarified, his eyes never leaving mine. "Not even close."



~ CHAPTER NINE ~



I'd been sitting at my desk trying to work up the courage to dial Jack's  number for the better part of an hour. A New York Times article about  him and Lauren was pulled up on my computer screen, and though I'd never  put much stock in celebrity gossip, this particular bit of it proved  difficult for me to shake.



It was a new day, but the previous night's events burned brightly in my  head. I'd allowed the drug that was Jack to push me over the edge of  sobriety, and now it was up to me to rectify things before they got any  more out of control.



Jack picked up right when I was convinced the call would go straight to  voicemail. "Have you seen the news?" I asked him, not giving him any  chance to greet me.



Jack didn't say anything at first. There was some rustling on the other  end of the line, followed by the muffled sound of a woman's voice and a  door slamming shut.



Shit.



He was in bed with Lauren. Of course he was. My momentary blimp in  sanity twenty-four hours prior didn't make them any less engaged.



"The news?" Jack inquired once he was alone, talking quietly so as not to be heard by his bride-to-be.



"Apparently congratulations are in order," I said, settling on the blunt  approach. "So is it a boy or a girl? Or are the two of you going the  old school route and holding out on those details until the birth?"



"Chantel..."



"No, don't 'Chantel' me, Jack. Not now. Not with this. Just answer the damn question. Is it true or not?"



Jack's silence spoke for itself. I was just about to hang up on him when  he pleaded for me to wait. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean  for things to get this out of control..."



"You're sorry?" I failed to hold back a laugh. Good Lord. I really knew  how to pick ‘em. "You slept with me knowing full well your fiancée was  pregnant, but hey, at least you're sorry!"



"It wasn't like that," Jack insisted. "Look, just let me come by your office and I'll explain every-"



"Save it," I interrupted. "You've already said enough."



I ended the call and slammed my phone down on my desk, closing my eyes  as I fought to slow my racing heart. Jack had done his fair share of  despicable things in the past, but this right here was a new low.



Malika peeked her head inside my office right when I was about to leave  to get some air. "Mayor Greenwell's son is here to see you," she  informed me. "Should I tell him now isn't a good time?"



"No, now's fine," I said with a sigh, sitting back down. Who was I  kidding? There was no such thing as escaping obligation around here.



A tall man with deep-set features entered my office a few seconds later.  I recognized him as Caleb Greenwell, but he definitely wasn't the same                       
       
           



       

Caleb Greenwell whose bar mitzvah I'd planned a few years prior. He was  just a boy back then, but the Caleb Greenwell standing before me now was  very much a man.



"Chantel Woods," I greeted, shaking his hand. "I'm the one in charge of organizing your father's events."



"I know who you are," Caleb said, flashing me an award-winning smile. It  was obvious that he was aware of the affect he had on women. "I'm here  to finalize our menu and put a deposit down on the food."



"Of course," I said, pulling the Greenwell file from my filing cabinet  and flipping back to the menu portion. "However, I see here that your  father still hasn't decided on a cake. If you have a few minutes I can  take you next-door to our caterer to taste test a few..."



Caleb accepted the invitation and followed me out into the lobby. I  grabbed my jacket along the way, and together we made our way outside.



"So how long have you been in the event planning industry?" Caleb questioned, breaking the silence.



"Almost nine years now," I said, hardly even believing it. It really didn't feel like it'd been that long.



"And you enjoy it?"



I shrugged and thought it over. "Sure," I said. "It pays the bills."



Caleb nodded and continued walking.



"What about you?" I asked him.



"Me?"



"What is it that you do?" I elaborated. "Aside from running your father's errands I mean."



Caleb looked amused by my snark. "I'm an architect," he answered. "I  work for Hilton Worldwide, but I help my dad out when I can. Old age  hasn't been too good on his memory."



Or his attitude...



I slowed my pace as we neared in on the caterer, turning to look at him  for the first time since we'd started walking. "You're a good son," I  said. "I don't see too many of those in my line of work."



Caleb smiled and held open the door for me. The sweet aroma of baked  goods filled my nostrils as soon as we entered the building, and I  followed the scent towards the counter in search of an employee.



"Hey Chantel!" the manager, Judith, called out to me as she surfaced  from the back room with a tray of unfrosted cupcakes in hand. "What can I  do for you?"