Carried Away

Pushing my knees apart, he gets on top and anchors me to the bed, grinding against me until I’m a hair’s breadth from coming.

“Jake…” I beg. He flexes his hips, entering me in one fluid motion. Big, hard, and ready. Stiffening, I hold my breath.

At first, it hurts. I haven’t had sex in so long I almost don’t remember it.

“I’ll make it good for you. I promise…just hold onto me,” he whispers and and starts gently rocking against me.

That’s all it takes for my body to accept his. For me to let go and let him take over. Jake makes love like he does everything else, with patience and skill and total devotion. Piece by piece he takes me apart and puts me back together, leaving not a single part of me uncharted.

It’s all I can do not to die of pleasure because the voice in the back of my head tells me this is special and unique. That it’s something to be valued.

I come hard and long, with him deep inside of me. He follows after a few more thrusts. It’s perfect. It’s everything I hoped it would be. And as I’m falling asleep I think to myself, “Don’t go away.”

He squeezes me tighter and I hear him whisper, “Not a chance.”

Chapter 16

Sex. Sex. And more sex. I have sex in the morning. I have it at night. I have it in the shower. Against the wall––not my favorite. On the kitchen table. On the floor. I still have the rug burns to prove it. It’s safe to say Jake and I are sexually compatible.

No bad sushi in sight.

So naturally, when my dirty pirate of a sister calls, I assume she wants to discuss sex.

Jackie’s face appears on my phone. I hit reject and think nothing of it. It’s late at night. Jake is sound asleep next to me and I’m in the middle of writing.

Fact: you never want to interrupt the muse when she’s whispering in your ear.

Except Jackie calls back. My sister can be a little demanding so I rinse and repeat, pushing her to voicemail.

The third time she calls, however, I answer without hesitation. Two calls means Jackie wants to rant. Three means there’s a legit issue and it’s not about the pair of Manolos she saw on sale.

“Hey, what’s up,” I answer, tiptoeing out of bed and into the bathroom.

The nervous fluttering in my belly kicks into overdrive when I hear a sniffle. “Jackie?? What is it? Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Voice broken, she takes a shaky breath. Whatever has gotten her this upset is nearly palpable. She’s clearly crying, but I try not to assume the worst just yet. I don’t want to speculate about my sister losing this baby because then I would have to speculate about how I’m going to glue her back together.

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to tell you something.”

Cryptic is not my sister’s thing. Despite being a high powered corporate attorney, Jackie is a total straight shooter. “You can talk to me, but are you alright? Do I need to call an ambulance? Where’s Charlie?”

“Charlie’s at Sam’s.” She sighs tiredly. “We had a fight.”

Sam is Charlie’s brother so that sounds kosher, but Charlie and Jackie never fight. Like ever. I cannot remember a single fight they have ever had. They have discussions. Not fights.

“You want to tell me about it?” I gently prod. She’s fragile right now. The last thing she needs is someone bearing down on her.

“I’m spotting again.”

My stomach sinks. “What did the doctor say? Did you call him?”

“He says it’s fine. Everything looks fine. The baby is fine. Charlie thinks everything’s fine…everybody keeps telling me it’s fine! I’m the only one that’s not fine.” Her soft cry filters through the phone and claws at my heart. Tears well in my eyes. “I’m not fine at all.”

“If the doctor––”

“I think I’m being punished,” she whispers, cutting me off.

She’s not making any sense now. “Why would you think that? You’re just under a lot of stress right now, but if the doctor thinks you’re not in any danger of losing the baby…”

“I had an abortion, Carrie.”

There’s an acute pain in my chest. Like my heart was sucker punched right out. “Jackie, you’re worrying me. Let me Call Charlie––”

“When I was in high school,” she rushes to explain. I breathe an enormous sigh of relief. She’s got a month left until her due date and that day can’t come soon enough. “I was seventeen, and, and I…I…I just couldn’t be pregnant. I couldn’t do it. I was heading to Stanford that fall and I had my entire life ahead of me…I couldn’t have a baby with James of all people. Do you remember him?”

My head is spinning with everything she’s throwing at me. It’s hard to keep up at this point. I was in junior high when Jackie was a senior so I vaguely recall the guy she was dating that year.