My Wounded Billionaire

I nod; I know this.

“They allocate ten inseminations,” he continues. “That’s for six to seven cycles of IUI or intrauterine insemination, where they place the sperm directly into the uterus, and if that doesn’t work, three cycles of IVF, where they add the sperm and egg together outside the body.”

“Yes.” I’m impressed and touched he’s made the effort to find out the details.

“At your age, which is relatively young, the pregnancy rate of IUI is about thirteen percent. And there is a ten to fifteen percent chance of twins. However, the chance of getting pregnant naturally each month is about twenty-five percent.”

“True,” I admit, “but IVF is higher.”

“Yes, you have about a forty-five to fifty percent chance of a birth with each embryo transfer. But there are quite a few risks, and again, possibly a greater chance of a multiple birth depending on how many fertilized eggs they implant.”

I concentrate on cutting up my fish. I know he’s right.

“Getting pregnant naturally is the safest option,” he says. “Plus there are other things we can do to increase the chances of conception.”

“Like what?”

His expression turns mischievous. “There is some scientific evidence to suggest an orgasm helps a woman get pregnant.”

My eyes widen. “Seriously?”

“Yes. The release of oxytocin decreases stress, which aids getting pregnant, especially if it happens less than a minute before or after the man ejaculates.”

I glance around the room to make sure we’re not being overheard, hardly able to believe I’m having this conversation over dinner.

Normally I’d have changed the subject well before now, but there’s something about Marc’s candidness that appeals to me. He’s not embarrassed or being crass. He knows I struggle with nuance, and so he’s just stating the facts.

Well, they’re not facts, because obviously he’s got it seriously wrong.

“That’s all well and good,” I tell him, “but what are the chances of that happening every time a couple has sex?”

He blinks a few times. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m confused,” he admits.

“Join the club. This conversation is baffling me.”

He frowns. “Which bit don’t you understand?”

“You said the woman has to have an orgasm less than a minute before or after the guy ejaculates.”

“Yeah…” His lips curve up. “I’m not saying it wouldn’t need careful timing…”

“Marc, I’m just making the point that it’s rare enough that it happens at all, let alone within such a short window.”

“For what to happen at all?”

Now I’m exasperated. I lean forward and whisper, somewhat furiously, “For a woman to have an orgasm during sex.”

He stares at me. Then he puts down his knife and fork and leans back. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I couldn’t be more serious.” I’m shocked that he doesn’t understand. “You know women fake it, right? Or have you really assumed that every woman you’ve had sex with has had an orgasm every time?”

Chapter Four

Fitz

I’m not sure I’ve ever been truly speechless before. I stare at Poppy for so long, she blows out a long breath and swigs her beer.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admit. “Are you seriously telling me you’ve never had an orgasm during sex?”

She blushes. “Once or twice. Possibly.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“That’s pretty normal, Marc, believe me.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

She gives a patient sigh, the kind she’d probably use to explain to a ten-year-old that Santa doesn’t really exist. “What you see in the movies…” she says gently, “none of that is real. It just doesn’t happen that way for women. Not in the real world.”

I stab my fork into my fish. “It does with the women I sleep with.’

“I’m sorry if it comes as a shock to you, but they were almost certainly faking it.”