her hand and sat back in the car.
“Are we going to be this new kind of people who argue every time we’re together?” he asked.
“We wouldn’t argue if you’d just leave me alone. Women have been having babies by themselves from the beginning of time. I don’t need you.”
“That was not what you said when we made this baby,” he replied.
“Well, that’s what I’m saying now.”
“Really?”
Willow did not expect him to kiss her, but he did just that. His lips fell roughly on her mouth pushing her lips apart. He pulled her across the seat and onto his lap. His left hand pulled her perfect bun apart as he knotted his hand in her hair and drew her into the kiss.
He had surprised her, but her response to him was even more surprising as she looped her arms around his neck, titling his head back so she could kiss him deeper. She felt him tugging at her skirt and she forgot that she was mad at him. She wanted him to touch, needed him to touch her. When he reached between her legs and his hand brushed against her panties, she whimpered and pressed against him. She tugged at his belt. She carefully, but quickly unzipped his pants and reached for him.
A part of her wanted to stop. A part of her remembered she was mad at him, but at the moment, none of that mattered. She wanted him. He tugged her panties away. He raised her slightly and in the gloomy darkness of the car, he groaned as he entered her.
He tugged at her blouse sending buttons across the car as he reached for her breasts. Her hands went around his head as he licked at a nipple. She rode him hard and fast, wanting nothing but sweet relief.
He growled as he came inside her. She arched her back in the confined space as she felt sweet, familiar release.
She did not move away immediately. She sat there on his lap with him still inside her. She grabbed a lock of his hair and tilted his head back so she could look at him.
“This means nothing,” she said.
“Okay.”
She knew the grip on his hair was painful. A part of her wanted to hurt him. She dipped her head and kissed him before getting up.
She could not find her panties and gave up looking for the garment. She realized the car had come to stop, but she didn’t know for how long. She opened the door, pulling her blouse that was short a few buttons across her chest. The late September air was already cooling. The car was outside of her house. She thanked Giles and ran inside.
Willow hated that she could not have coffee or wine. She wanted something stronger than the orange juice in her refrigerator at the moment. She showered quickly refusing to think about the moment in the car, but it was almost in-escapable when she looked in the mirror and saw the small marks he left on her neck and on her breasts.
Dinner showed up at six o’clock as it had since she signed the contract. It was not by Giles or whoever his new employee was; he came this time.
“Go away,” she said taking the package from him.
“I wanted to discuss the prenatal classes we should take,” he said in a business-like tone.
He made her feel silly for thinking he was there for anything other than the baby.
“Can’t you just email them to me?”
“Note I said discuss,” he replied. “I am not here to just ram stuff down your throat. I want us to be able to do this together like civilized people.”
She stepped away from the door and let him in. He followed her into the kitchen where she placed the food on the counter, then went over to the table in her breakfast nook.
“Are you going to have dinner?”
“I’m not hungry,” she said.
“We agreed you would have a healthy meal three times per day,” he said.
“I’m not hungry. I lost my appetite. Shame tends to do that to some people,” she said.
“Your appetite is irrelevant,” he said. “We agreed you would do this. How many other meals have you skipped?”
She shrugged.
“Okay,” he said. “You are breaching the contract.”
“Oh come on,” she balked at him. “I’m not hungry.”
“This is what you agreed to. You know breaching means you have to live with me for the duration of this pregnancy.”
She got up and opened the container. She took a stab at a piece of meat