She looked like she might cry. “You know you don’t have to say stuff like that to get in my pants, right?” She playfully smacked my shoulder. “Seriously, though, thank you for saying that. I feel so lucky to have met you. This is the first time in ages that I wouldn’t change a thing about my life.”
Cupping her face in my hands, I leaned in and took her mouth in mine and closed my eyes, cherishing every movement of our tongues, every taste. I didn’t want anything to change. Everything was perfect just the way it was, without anything happening to turn both our worlds upside down.
Impulsively lifting Sadie up, I carried her into her room and placed her on the bed. She reached over to my waist, undoing my buckle and throwing the belt to the side. My rigid cock sprang forward as I pushed my boxers down and lowered myself down to her. Within seconds, she’d spread her legs wide open for me and I was inside her.
Sex with Sadie was different each and every time. Sometimes it was rough, other times slow and sensual. This time was pure passion, a manifestation of the words I’d just admitted to her minutes earlier. The feel of her warm flesh against my bare cock as always was almost too much to bear. I lasted all of a few minutes before I lost control, emptying my cum inside her faster than I wanted.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” I said as I continued to move back and forth inside her.
It pleased me to feel her muscles tighten around my cock seconds later. There was nothing more beautiful than feeling her come all around me.
With my dick still buried inside her, I muttered against her neck, “What did I ever do before you?”
“I hope you never have to remember.” She smiled.
We held each other for a long time, and Sadie actually nodded off soon after that. She must have had a long day. My plan had been to return home by eleven, at which point I’d call an Uber to take Magdalene home.
It was 9:00 pm now, and I had no idea how long Sadie would be asleep. I knew this might be my only opportunity to do something I really needed to—as wrong as it felt and as much as I didn’t want to have to do it.
Slowly and carefully lifting myself from the bed, I walked over to her kitchen and looked around. I found a stash of Ziploc bags and took two out of the box.
Quietly venturing into her bathroom, I swiped her toothbrush before placing it into one of the bags. Opening the drawer below, I grabbed a wad of hair off her brush and placed it in the other bag. My understanding was that hair needed to be pulled from the root for DNA testing, so I doubted it would take but hoped that at least the toothbrush would suffice.
Jesus.
Am I really doing this?I felt like a thief.
A piece of hair and a used toothbrush might not be of any monetary value, but what I’d done was stealing nonetheless—I’d stolen Sadie’s right to privacy. And I’d felt like shit since the moment I’d done it.
Standing in the post-office lobby, I hung my head as I leaned on the counter and blew out a shaky breath. I’d just mailed off the DNA testing samples I’d collected and couldn’t possibly walk home yet. My head pounded, my chest felt tight, and I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Normally, I’d take Motrin for a headache, but I didn’t deserve any relief. I was a piece of shit who deserved to feel like someone had chiseled into his temples.
Even though I’d been sick about what I’d done since yesterday, it still hadn’t stopped me from being the first one in line at the post office when it opened this morning.
When Sadie had told me about her egg donation, she’d said she never wanted to know who the recipients of her generosity were. In fact, she’d made sure the entire process was anonymous before going through with it. And for some reason, I didn’t think she’d ever had contact with her own birth parents. At least she’d never mentioned it. So I was pretty sure she didn’t want to know if she had children out there.
But I had to know.
Plus, what were the odds that Sadie was our donor? The fertility center had never even told us what state the person was from, only that she was a US citizen. There are over three hundred million people in this country. I’d have a better shot of winning the damn lottery. Sadie would probably think I’d lost my mind for even thinking it was a possibility—three hundred million people in the country, and my daughter just happens to write her biological mother a letter. The more I thought about it, the more I realized she’d probably be right—I was a little nutty for even considering it could happen.