Everything Unexpected (17 page)

“Close the door. Take a seat,” she says, her focus still on the laptop.

I see a few curious faces looking in through the large glass window beside the door. I make my way to the cream chair in front of her desk, scanning her office, admiring the sheer size of it. I’ve only been in here a handful of times. Many of our meetings or encounters have been in the board room with all the other partners and associates present. Her office is quite serene compared to it, with pale green walls and light furniture. The only bit of darkness comes from the wood frames surrounding her degrees hanging on the wall.

Sitting down, I get a little nervous, questions as to why I was brought in here running through my mind. Have I screwed up somehow? Made a mistake in some of my referencing? I wish I knew what—

Shit
.

It must be because she knows I’m pregnant. Somehow, someone found out and it’s gotten back to her. And now she’s looking for me to confirm.

This isn’t how I wanted to tell her. I wanted it to be at my own pace, after I’ve had more time to impress her and the other partners with my work. Time to awe them so they won’t even care that I’ll need to take some time off to have a baby. All they’ll care about is when I’ll be able to come back and continue my excellence at practicing law. Instead, now I’m going to have to apologize for not coming forward to her or the firm earlier for letting office gossip be the news breaker.

When she finally looks up from her laptop, her expectant gaze is enough to turn the chicken parmesan I ate in my stomach.

“Leah, I brought you in here today because I’d like it if you were to assist me in the Bakker trial.”

“I understand, I should’ve told you,” I answer back immediately.

Her eyes narrow, confused.

Wait...what did she just say?

Did she just say she wanted me to assist her on the case
she’s
working on? The high profile corporate takeover case that’s bound to bring the firm a ridiculous amount of money if we win—when we win?

“Should have told me what?” she asks. She sits back in her chair, waiting for me to explain my odd response. My mind reels, quickly thinking of what to say hoping that all those years in law school have actually made me quick on my feet.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat, speaking slowly as to give myself a little more time. “I just meant I should’ve come to you earlier, perhaps shown my own interest in aiding with this case. Shown my own initiative.”

I hold my breath and watch for her reaction. A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. “I’m glad to hear you’ve already thought about it. The partners and I have discussed it and we all agree that you would be a great addition in the case. We were all impressed with your work on the Tyson prep.” She leans in, folding her hands together, resting them on top of her desk. “And if we are speaking honestly, I think it’s a great move for the firm. Having two women at the helms of one of our biggest cases. I work hard to ensure this firm maintains a show of equality amongst its staff—among the sexes. Unfortunately, there are still a few partners who have—how should I word this…” She takes a moment. “A chauvinistic pigheadedness about them.”

I can’t help but laugh. “I see.”

“I’m glad we are on the same page.” She smiles. “I’ll have some of the files sent over.” She begins to shuffle a few papers around, an indicator to me this meeting is over. I stand, readying to leave.

“Get ready for some busy days and probably busy nights,” Cassandra says.

“I look forward to it,” I answer. And I do. Working on this case could be huge for my career. I open the door and just as I’m about to walk through, Cassandra’s next words stop me in my tracks.

“We’ll show them we are more than just wombs that bear children.”

“COMB, I’M SO proud of you,” Shane says releasing me from his arms, putting my feet back on the ground.

“Pretty exciting,” I say righting my shirt that lifted while he spun me in the air.

“More than exciting,” he beams. I can see in his eyes he’s more excited for me than anyone.

“How do you want to celebrate?” he asks.

I called him after work to tell him the news and he insisted on coming over, too happy for me to continue our conversation over the phone. I follow him as he moves around my apartment, collapsing on the couch, resting one arm over the back cushion and propping one leg on my coffee table. He’s wearing the shirt I bought him years ago, the one that says
Frankie Says Relax
. We laughed when we saw it because we had just watched that very same
Friends
episode a few days earlier. But unlike Ross, Shane’s shirt fits him perfectly. White cotton against light mocha, form fitting in all the right places, pulled up just slightly by the way he’s sitting, showing a sliver of skin from his hip.

I fidget, working to ignore the hormonal burst occurring.

“No celebrating yet. I could still screw it up,” I say sitting beside him, taking a sip from my glass of water.

“No chance.”

“You have such faith in me,” I say, lightly teasing. I sit back and lean against the cushions, lifting my feet and burying them under the pillows. Without hesitation, Shane takes one and starts massaging it using his thumbs and fingers in the most amazing way. I close my eyes, the rush of pleasure from the right amount of pressure on my soles is overwhelming.

“That feels so good,” I say, nearing moaning status.

I feel his stomach muscles shake under my foot from his laughter. And when he moves a little higher on my foot, I let out an actual moan.

“Looks like I still have the touch,” he says.

I open my eyes, bringing them to his face, to the grin that’s plastered there.

“Don’t be too pleased with yourself. It’s not all you,” I tell him. I try and pull my foot away but his grasp on my ankle gets tighter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, amused.

I sit straighter, brushing my hair off my shoulders, shrugging. “Let’s just say a lot of my bodily reactions are hormone related. Involuntary reflex.”

“Hormone related,” he repeats. “Tell me more.”

He’s taunting me, making fun of me with his cocky smile. It causes a stir of annoyance in my stomach and…something else.

“My hormones are rising, causing my body to react in certain ways. It’s not me. It’s biology. Look it up if you don’t believe me,” I challenge.

Shane laughs, releasing my ankle as he slides over the sofa and sits right next to me. I can smell the faintness of his cologne, just a hint of it left, most of it having worn off during the day. He lifts his hand, brushing a few strands of hair back behind my ear slowly. The soft touch stills my breath.

“Biology, huh? What can I do to help?” he asks. There’s a genuineness in his voice, his tone not quite what I was expecting. He has no idea what he’s asking or offering. My eyes move on their own, down his body, from his Adam’s apple to everything south of it. I swallow, roughly releasing the breath I was holding. I blink several times before looking away, embarrassed at ogling him. After a minute, I find the courage to face him and when I do, a look of understanding sweeps across Shane’s face.

“Comb,” he says calmly. “Are you… asking me to have sex with you?”

A deep blush rises up my neck and burns my cheeks.

“No!” I shriek. “Of course not!” But even I can hear how unconvincing I sound. He continues staring at me, marveling at just how much his question hit the nail on the head.

“What?” I question, increasingly becoming annoyed at how mortifying this evening has turned out to be. He tilts his head to the side, watching me continue to unravel in front of him. “It’s a stage. A hormonal stage. It will pass,” I tell him, looking away.

“Right. Biology. Nothing having to do with chemistry,” he says, his voice falling somewhere between astonishment and cocky delight.

I shake my head, protesting but too embarrassed to look up. After a minute, Shane stands, his jean-clad legs stopping right in front of me, filling up my entire view. I look up at him, a smug grin on his face and one hand outstretched to me.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shaking.

“You told me how I could help,” he says, his voice lowering. “Let me help.”

A hundred refusals rush to mind. Reasons why this is not a good idea on the tip of my tongue, ready to be voiced—no,
screamed
. I line them up in my head from the most obvious reason to the more mundane, all of them explaining how insane this is. I’m ready to push his hand away, argue them all as soon as I stand. But the minute I’m up and my chest collides with his, all those reasons…turn on me. We stand chest to chest, neither of us backing down, neither of us moving forward. I see in his eyes that he too has a hundred reasons why this probably is not the greatest idea, but like me, he voices none of them. His eyes move down my body, skimming me slowly.

“So?” Shane says, his green eyes turning darker
.
I’m a little taken aback by them. I knew I was aroused, but now I see he is too. “Are you going to lead the way?”

I count to five in my head before I turn and walk in the direction of my bedroom. He follows and doesn’t bother closing the door, knowing there is no one to interrupt us. As soon as I hit the center of the room, I turn and face him. He makes no move to come near me. No move at all, actually. He’s waiting for something—me to make the first move. He’s made the offer and now he’s waiting for me to take him up on it. I don’t know why I’m not stopping this instead of reaching for the bottom hem of my shirt and lifting it over my head. Shane’s eyes drop, focusing on my now exposed chest. His lustful stare has me forgetting about my slight insecurity at my new just-noticeable bump.

He takes a few steps forward, removing his own shirt as he approaches. We stand inches apart, but my fingers are begging to touch him. To feel the hard planes of his chest, to brush my fingertips across his nipples. I bite my lip, trying to refrain myself. I look up and our eyes lock, and for the briefest of moments, a silent understanding comes over us.

We aren’t drunk this time—both fully aware of what we are doing. Fully aware that what is happening between us cannot later be blamed on alcohol or birthday naughtiness. I’m waiting for him to say or do something when his hands reach into the waist of my pants, pulling me towards him, crushing our bodies together once again. The sudden movement surprises me but when his lips start kissing and nipping at my neck, I quickly and easily melt into him.

Wrapping my arms around him, I grip his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. I feel his hands move around to my hips, then grip the back of my thighs. Lifting me, he carries me to the bed and lays me down in the middle. Standing over me, I watch his eyes move from my face, down to my chest and stopping right where my pants remain buttoned. A small grin appears as he bends and begins to undo my pants.

Every swift touch his fingers make, every rough exhale he takes causes my skin to react. Heat collects anywhere he makes contact, the anticipation getting to be too much. I’m beginning to get confused if it’s the hormones or him that’s driving me this crazy.

Cool air hits my legs once Shane rids me of my pants, his fingers lightly caressing them as he climbs up onto the bed. His fingers continue their trip up, slowly, torturously. When they skim over my breast, I inhale deeply. When they circle the tip of my nipple, I have to bite my lip to stop from squealing. Shane notices.

“They’re really sensitive right now,” I tell him.

He smiles. “Good to know,” he replies, before bringing his lips down and sucking the tip through my bra. Even with a thin layer of lace between, I think I’m going to explode. His fingers begin to roam once more, only this time they are making their way south. He starts to play with the hem of my panties, brushing my skin lightly, running over the soft fabric.

“You’re wet,” he says, switching over to the other nipple.

I know I am. I have been for days.

“I told you. Biology.”

I feel his lips smile against my chest. “Let’s really see what biology has done.”

His fingers sweep under the fabric of my underwear towards my center. Very quickly, he’s given an answer. He moves his fingers slowly in circles slipping inside, then back to circles. It’s quite possible I’m going to come faster than I ever have in my life. His touch is unhurried, taking his time to explore all the parts of me. He bites at my nipple and quickly soothes it with a flick of his tongue.

“I appreciate the warm up,” I say, clenching the sheets in my fists. “But you don’t need to. We can get right to it.”

His fingers still inside me as he lifts his head from my chest. An unreadable look washes over his face before his leans down, his lips so close to mine they puff air against them as he speaks. “Maybe
I
want to touch you.”

I stare up at him in silence, unsure of what to say. Part of me wants him to continue his slow exploration of my body. For hours, days even. The other too concerned with how good that sounds.

Shane sees a struggle going on in my head, only he has no idea what the actual feud is. He’s trying to read my thoughts and I’m terrified of his reaction if he could.

Finally, he gives a quick, curt smile. “Okay, Comb. Let’s do this your way,” he says.

He rises up on his knees, hooking his fingers around my panties, yanking them down my legs. He rids himself of his own pants and boxer briefs just as quickly. Nearly naked, my bra the only article of clothing left on, we take a minute to let our eyes wander before he moves in between my legs. I bend my knees, his body fitting perfectly in between them. His fingers run over me once more before he thrusts himself inside of me. We both let out a sharp moan. He rests his forearms beside my head, leaning down to my ear.

“Condoms seem a bit pointless now. What more could happen?”

He moves his lips away from my ear and begins to nip at my neck while he fucks me the way I asked him to. I wrap my legs around him, using the balls of my feet to pull him in closer. I’ve never come from sex alone, always needing some other kind of action to get there. But I know this is going to be the first time. I can already feel it starting. With every thrust, it builds and builds until I’m screaming his name. I feel him stiffen, coming not too long after. He collapses on top of me, out of breath, quick bursts of air hitting the side of my neck. Once his breath calms, he lays a soft kiss in the same place.