And so, in a moment of incoherence, she stopped taking the pills.
One day passed, and yet another. Rust used a condom for the requisite month before the pills would have taken effect.
And then –
She remembered the pounding she had received from his glorious, wonderful cock. The sperm flowing into her in a tide, swimming into her womb and up into her Fallopian tubes. She wondered if one of her eggs had been released into the tubes and was being impregnated by his sperm even as she pondered about such things at the embankment.
Had she made a mistake? Okay, that was beside the point. Of course she had made a mistake. She was making a mistake either way. Any which way she chose, as long as that path involved Rust O’Brien.
Trapping him.
Thinking that he would embrace her after she declared, “I’m pregnant. There must have been some flaw with the pills.”
How contrite. How stupid. How childish she was, playing at adult games. She was not the first woman who had tried to trap the man of her dreams in this manner, and she was not the first woman who had tried to trap Rust O’Brien.
Except that he wasn’t any ordinary male.
Their union would be an experiment.
God, what was she thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid!
She wondered if it was too late to amend it.
Hurriedly, she eased a blister pack out of the box of oral contraceptives and took one pill out of it. Then she stuffed it into her mouth.
She wondered if it was too late.
14
“You know, Fiona, you could be attractive if you didn’t try so hard,” Carlo said.
He didn’t have a car, not on his partial scholarship and what he was making as a ‘waiter’, good money though that was. Most of it went into his college fund. And the rest of it went to his mother back at home to pave the way for the rest of his siblings to go to college. Not all shifters were rich like Rust O’Brien.
He was driving Fiona’s car – a second hand Mustang. Fiona wasn’t exactly Rust O’Brien rich but she was in a better position than he was.
Fiona’s hand was at his crotch, and she was groping his cock and balls, squeezing them. She took her hand away and pouted.
“Suit yourself,” she said.
They were driving to where he deemed ‘a surprise’. It was easy enough to get Fiona to tag along. She was always bored, looking for adventure.
He glanced at her quizzically. “Were you always the class slut?”
“I take offense to that word,” she said mildly.
“I reckon it isn’t the first time you’ve heard it thrown in your face.”
She stared out of the window, her expression somewhat wistful.
She said, “So many things you don’t know about me, Carlo. You don’t know the things I had to do – ”
She trailed off. He knew what she was going to say. You don’t know the things I had to do . . . to make me what I am.
“And there are so many things you don’t know about me.”
“That makes us two of a kind.”
“Not really.”
“I hear you’re pretty much the man slut himself. Only you don’t do campus girls. What – we’re not good enough for you? Or do you prefer older women with the means to pay you for fucking them?” She smiled.
He retorted, “You know, Fiona, you don’t have to be such a prick.”
“I don’t have a prick. You do. Where are you taking me . . . if not for fucking?”
He grimaced. “I know a place just outside town.”
“So early in the morning?”
“I figured we’d get a fresh start.”
*
It felt like a drive-by, only it wasn’t a drive-by. If they were in a TV show, he reckoned he would have rolled down the window, pulled out a gun and fired.
But as it was, this was just as effective. In another way.
Carlo’s blood was boiling in his veins. That was the trouble with being a shifter. You had a threshold, and when you crossed that threshold, it became pure, blinding rage. You would not take insults from another man. Or another shifter, for the matter.
There was only so much a wolf could take.
“This is a really nice neighborhood,” Fiona said. “Very far away from campus. Your sugar mommy lives here?”
“If you weren’t so busy talking out of your yap, you’d see what’s at three o’ clock.”
She turned her head. “But it’s only eight thirty in the morning.”
“What’s better than a full breakfast?”
The couple sat at the edge of the café. They had probably ordered, but the food had not arrived. They were nursing their coffee. They looked happy. In fact, Kate was positively glowing, the way she never glowed when she was having coffee with him.