Snatched

I lift my hips and wrap my legs tightly around Finn’s waist. The new position allows him to go even deeper, and he groans at the sensation. I’m going to come soon, I can feel it, and I want him to come with me. He slaps against my ass as he pushes into me, then reaches under my hips to lift them farther from the bed. Finn’s eyes are on mine, hungry and dangerous and demanding— he’s going to make me come. He likes having that power, likes being able to make me cry out, likes knowing I’m his.

His cock pulses inside me, and it’s time, it’s time for both of us. I let go of the meager attempts I’d been making to hold back; my orgasm tears through me like electricity, racing to my fingers and toes, numbness and explosions all at once in my pussy. At the same instant, Finn moans and I feel the hot wetness of him filling me, coming deep inside me, nothing between us, nothing separating us.

I whimper as the orgasm tapers off, as the electricity crackles away. I lower my legs, panting, and after a few moments of dizzied breathing open my eyes.

To darkness. To nothing. Finn isn’t here. It’s my own hand by my pussy, a vibrator penetrating me rather than his cock. Finn is gone, and it’s only through imagining him here that I can begin to feel a fraction of what I felt when I was with him.

I fall asleep at some point— I’m not sure when, exactly, but I last remembering staring at the clock in one of those miserable, self-pitying ways at about ten. I’m woken to the sound of the front door opening as Mandy arrives home.

I quickly shove the vibrator, which is still lying among my sheets, under my pillow, just in case she barges in. She doesn’t, though; I hear her step into the bathroom, water running, then silence. Bradley must not be with her— he never thinks to be quiet when it’s late, even if I might be asleep. I’m about to drift of again when I hear her say something. A single something, actually, a repeated word.

“Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit. Shit,” she’s saying under her breath, the word ebbing and flowing like she’s pacing in the bathroom. I frown and sit up. If she weren’t my sister, I probably would assume she’d just bombed a test or cracked her eye shadow compact or something. But I grew up listening to Mandy’s voice, and so I’m confident that there’s something actually wrong— there’s a stressed note in her words, a shake, a genuine fear.

“Mandy?” I call out.

“Yeah?” she answers cheerfully. Fake cheerfully.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” she says again. This time, however, her voice cracks. She’s trying not to cry.

I shoot out of bed, barely thinking to slide pajamas pants on before I hit the door. The bathroom door is locked; I pound on it.

“I’m fine!” she says again, but now there’s no denying there’s a sob threatening her. I jump and grab the little Allen wrench key from the top of the door frame, jam it in the lock, and have the door opened in seconds.

My sister is standing in our tiny bathroom, her arms splayed over the sink, her head down. She doesn’t look at all surprised that I’ve picked the lock— or perhaps the eye makeup running down her face is just hiding the surprise. I scan her body for something obvious, like an injury. In doing so, I see something in her hand that looks a little like a thermometer.

Only it isn’t a thermometer.

“Oh my God,” I say, eyebrows raising.

She laughs humorlessly and throws the object in the sink like it might bite her. “Yep. Yep. I’m pregnant.”

Chapter 17

Getting pregnant is something that happens to someone else. Getting pregnant does not happen to my sister. She takes her birth control pill religiously. She doesn’t have casual sex. She even took Plan B once not because her birth control had failed exactly, but just because she “had a weird feeling”.

We go to the doctor to get it all confirmed— one out in Gwinnett to ensure no one who could possibly know our mother is involved in the whole process. The doctor is kind and pretty and understanding, even when Mandy starts to cry.

“I just don’t understand how this could have happened,” Mandy says, shaking her head. “I don’t dislike babies, they’re fine, but this just isn’t what I want right now. Do you understand what a boys game the research world is? They’re never going to hire me if I’m pregnant.”

The doctor nods. “Which is illegal, by the way, so if you decide to continue with this pregnancy and that happens, call me and we’ll get you a lawyer’s name.”