The Roommate's Baby

I just smirk and pull away, just in time. In the distance, I spot Chris turning away from the bar, balancing four drinks in his hands. At the same time, on the other end of the bar, Lacy emerges from the restroom. I watch as, for a moment, both of them lock eyes, then glance away again, both pretending they weren't checking for one another in the crowd.

"They're so fucked," Rina murmurs, with a gleeful smile on her face.

"I know, right?" We share a grin, and then our friends are back, ready for another round of darts.

It continues like that all night. Those two flirting like crazy, us two enjoying the show. All the way up until we're ready to pay our tab and head home. Chris offers to settle up, and Rina has to go on a bathroom run, which leaves me and Lacy standing alone together this time, counting up our totals at the dart board.

As usual, Rina came out on top. Though this time, only just. We played five games, and she won three of those, by the skin of her teeth. It only makes me hungrier for a rematch.

A rematch, and to take her home tonight and play another game. This time it'll be how crazy can I drive her in revenge for winning those games. I'm guessing I'll win that contest.

"So," Lacy says.

"How's your night going?" I smirk.

She grins right back, a knowing expression on her face. "Almost as good as yours, I'd wager."

Uh oh. I keep my expression carefully neutral. Just keep grinning at the dart board. "Nights out here are always fun."

"Especially when you've got a fresh flirtation around, huh?" She elbows me.

I tense. "I'll take your word for it."

"Oh please." Now it's Lacy's turn to snort and roll her eyes skyward. "Like it's not written all over both of your faces."

"Like what is?" I frown, playing dumb.

"Look." She lowers her voice and casts a quick, furtive glance over my shoulder. "All I'll say is this. I know it's a complicated situation, but if you actually like her... Go for it, okay?"

Without saying another word, Lacy springs away from me and toward the table where we left our bags, going to collect them.

"What were you two whispering about?" Rina asks, appearing at my elbow, having returned from the bathroom. Lacy must have spotted her coming right before she sprinted off.

"Just asking her how tonight is going," I reply evenly, my mind still racing. Did Rina say something to Lacy? Does Lacy know about us?

I doubt it. Rina's the one who asked me specifically to keep quiet about it with anyone from work. Lacy's just guessing. Taking a stab in the dark. Which means we'll have to watch ourselves on nights like this in the future if we want to keep things on the down-low.

But what does Lacy mean? Go for it?

Rina can't have told her what's going on. Otherwise Rina would have mentioned the NSA agreement she asked for, the whole business arrangement we have going. The very reason that I shouldn't go for it—because I promised Rina I would keep things professional between us. Even if it's killing me to do that.

"Pretty well I'd say," Rina replies with a twinkle in her eye.

"We make a good team," I say, without thinking.

To my surprise, Rina grins up at me, that spark still glowing behind her eyes. "That we do."

9

Rina

Another week passes. I get my period, and even though the disappointment crushes part of me, there's a strange, unfamiliar other part of my mind that's almost... okay, with this. Because no, I don't have my goal yet. I don't have a baby yet.

But that means I get to keep Cannon for that much longer. We get to keep doing... whatever this is, for at least one more month. One more month, and then, if I do get pregnant this time, I'll move out, like I promised. We'll go our separate ways—go back to just being friends. Like before.

I tell myself that's possible. I tell myself it's what I want.

I'm not sure I believe anything I tell myself anymore. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

In the meantime, at least we have Chris and Lacy's budding hookup to distract us. It's cute—almost cathartic, in a way, to watch two other people do the same dance that we're doing. The pretend-we're-just-coworkers-in-the-office dance. The try-not-to-flirt-too-much-at-group-events dance.

Lacy told me they finally hooked up a couple nights ago, and, what's more, they actually went out for dinner first. Like, on what sounded like an honest-to-God date.

Cannon thinks Chris might actually like her. But of course, I'm not telling Lacy that. Not yet. I'd much rather she protect herself for now, until Chris is sure he might want more than just a few nights of messing around. I know better than to get my girl's heart involved when it doesn't need to be.

After all, Lacy should learn from my mistakes.

As for me, I'm just trying to ignore all the warning bells going off in my skull and enjoy the moment while it lasts. Cannon and I have started going out on actual almost-dates too—sneaking off to dinner a few towns over, or out in the suburbs where nobody will recognize us. Going to the movies more often, even having a picnic night in with wine he brought home and dinner we cooked together and a picnic blanket spread on our living room floor.

It feels impossible. It feels easy. It feels normal and natural, and that's the worst part of all, because I know it's not. I know it has to end. I know what we both agreed.

But dammit, I'm starting to have second thoughts. I'm starting to think that maybe, for once, just this one time, NSA is too difficult for me.

For Cannon's sake, though, I know I have to tamp down that impulse. I mean, I asked the man to impregnate me for god's sake. That's a huge favor, and the fact that he willingly agreed to it shows exactly how much he trusts me and cares about me as a friend. The least I can do is return the favor and stick to the bargain we agreed to. Casual sex only. Friends only. And in another month, hopefully, if we manage to get me knocked up...

We both move on with our separate lives.

For now, I can ignore the knots in my stomach. I can pretend it doesn't make me feel crazy, because I can pretend none of it is happening.

Denial is a powerful skill, let me tell you.

Of course, my denial doesn't even know what kind of a test it's in for until we head to work on Friday. Our day starts out completely normal—I wake up in his room, because yet again, I failed my own personal, unspoken rule of always sleeping in my bed. (I've failed that more often than I've managed to stick to it lately, only sleeping in my bedroom three of the last seven nights). The moment we wake up, he drags me on top of him, holding me tight against his naked chest as we kiss. Before long, he pulls my legs around either side of his waist, and I can feel his morning wood digging into my hip. I grin and arch my hips to grind against him, which only makes him hungrier.

He slips a hand between my legs and laughs softly against my mouth when he finds me wet to the touch, because of course I am. "Somebody woke up thirsty this morning, dirty girl."

I always am around him. I swear, no one else can make me as wet as Cannon can with one simple look—a grin across the crowded office, a suggestive raised eyebrow when we're in the middle of dinner or watching our TV series, which we have sorely neglected ever since we started finding one anoth

er a hell of a lot more interesting. "Only as hungry as you are, dirty boy," I point out, rocking back against his hard-on, grinning as I feel his bare cock graze against my ass.

And this morning is no different. With a few strokes of his finger, he has me gasping, rocking against him, hungry as ever to feel him inside me. Filling me, in the way only he can.

"Did you dream about me, Rina? Anything dirty?"

"Absolutely filthy." I grin and lean down across him. Two can play at this game, and I slip a hand between his legs to stroke his length, toying with the base of his cock, trailing my fingers lightly all the way to his tip to run my finger along the precum that gathered there, then bringing my forefinger to my mouth and licking it clean, savoring the salty, seedy taste of him.

That does it for him. With a growl, he forces my knees apart, to either side of his waist, and grasps my hips with both hands. He positions me so I'm right above his cock, and tilts his head up to watch as he positions his cock directly at the entrance to my pussy. I lean down to watch too, loving the sight of him—so fucking big, bigger and thicker and longer than I ever knew I could handle, and I never cease to be proud of that fact. He presses into me, and we both gasp in sync, as I lower myself onto him, and he grips my hips tightly, controlling my fall, pinning me above him, right where he wants me.

"Tell me about it, Rina."

From this angle, his cock feels even bigger as he stretches me wide, fills me completely. I moan aloud with desire, though I keep my eyes locked on his face, because I love watching the affect I have on him too; I love seeing that he's as absorbed by me in these moments as I am by him.

"I dreamt about you bending me over my desk in the office and fucking me from behind," I murmur. My voice catches a few times, especially when he yanks me the rest of the way down across his lap and spears into me completely. My pussy aches at the sensation, but it's a pleasant ache, the bone-deep kind of pleasure that comes only from being as full as I can stand.

As full as only Cannon can get me.

"I dreamt about you too." He raises his hips, bucks up against me, and I cry out faintly as his cock drags along my walls, right down the front to glide over my G-spot. "You know what happened in my dream?"