Chapter 25
CHAPTER 25
GAbrIEL
I turn around and walk away from Leah. Not wanting to scrutinise what she’s about to do with my cum. My hands ached with the need to touch her as I handed it over. This isn’t my first choice in conceiving a child, but then again, I’m her boss and colleague. She’s already taking up too much brain matter. I can only imagine what it would do to my brain and body if it knew how it felt to have her in my arms, to deposit my cum deep within her warm, tight pussy. I bite back a groan and move further along the corridor. At this rate, I’ll be relieving myself again before we head back to the office, or taking an ice-cold shower.
A scream has me turn on my heels and slam into Leah’s bedroom. Leah is sat on the end of the bed, staring in shock at the mess dripping down her hands and face.
The syringe is in two parts, the end unmistakably having exited the casing as she drew my sperm into it. The resultant lack of suction has shot the sperm everywhere.
Her wide eyes meet mine. “I don’t know what?—”
I don’t wait to hear the rest of her sentence. Instead, I make my way into her bathroom and grab a facecloth from the side, wet it and return to her.
I kneel on the ground, disengaging her fingers from the broken plunger before throwing it into the empty box. I bite down hard on the inside of my cheek, resisting the urge to laugh, as I notice my cum running in thick strands down her face. Instead, I take her hands in mine, wiping them down, removing the sticky residue before drying them off with the towel. Only when I look up, do I find Leah staring at me.
“Drat,” she says, giving me a weak smile. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“The pamphlet stated this was a reasonably clean procedure. Minimal mess. I think those were the words they used.”
I watch as her lips twitch. She rubs her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Ouch,” she says, obviously rubbing some liquid into her eye. Her tongue darts out. My stomach cramps as I realise she’s just licked my cum from her full lips. When she doesn’t grimace, a hit of arousal shoots south.
I shuffle backwards as Leah gets up. She’s changed out of her suit and into a long t-shirt, her bare legs exposed. I divert my gaze as she walks past, ignoring the possibility she has no underwear beneath it.
“Well, that’s today a no-go,” she says. “At least it’s supposed to be great for one’s complexion.”
Taking the facecloth from my hands, she wipes her face on the towel and moves to the bathroom.
The videos I’ve watched suggest multiple attempts at insemination during ovulation. When we decided this, I took it upon myself to find out what it entailed.
“Looks that way,” I say, dragging my eyes away from her body.
Leah sighs as she returns, plopping herself down on the bed and staring at the kit lying in pieces .
“I’m not sure what happened. It was really stiff, and then the plunger pinged out of the end and, well, you saw the result.”
My eyes follow hers. “Is it worth calling them?” I ask, needing to do something to distract myself.
Leah nods before getting up and heading out of the room, leaving me alone on the floor.
I grab the box and take it with me. I find her in the main living area, her phone already to her ear.
“That’s right,” she says. “Uh huh, yes...” There’s a long pause while she listens to the person on the other end of the phone. Her expression drops, and she pinches the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. Whatever they are telling her is not what she wants to hear. “What’s next?” she asks, sighing. “It is a problem, as I’m ovulating now.” Her tone hardens.
I freeze.
She sinks down onto the sofa, her shoulders sagging. I move to sit near her, and she looks up in shock. Did she not expect me to take an interest?
It’s a few more minutes before Leah ends the call. She drops back onto the sofa, her hands covering her face, before letting out a frustrated yell.
“They sent me a faulty batch,” she mumbles through her fingers. “They’ll send me out another set of kits and a spare, but it won’t be with us until Wednesday.”
I sit forward and rest my forearms on my thighs, staring at the floor. I know what this means, and to Leah, it must be devastating news. It’s one more delay towards her dream.
We sit in silence until Leah pushes herself forward and off the sofa. She pulls her t-shirt down over her thighs.
“I’ll get dressed and make us both that sandwich,” she says, the frustration of the morning clear in her voice.
Her phone rings, and she looks down, scowling at it. “ What does he want?” she says, silencing it and throwing it onto the coffee table.
I look over and see Vince’s name pop up on the screen. Not someone I want appearing when I’m trying to conceive a child with his ex. Am I taking advantage of her?
If he hadn’t left, it would be him trying to make a child with Leah. Is this what fate is trying to tell us? That this is wrong.
Leah runs upstairs to get changed, returning in record time. Her suit is back in place, and her hair is in its severe updo. She heads to the kitchen area and pulls out a selection of food, busying herself.
I get up and make my way to the window, staring out over the city. From the short time we’ve lived together, I know this is what Leah needs. She needs to do something menial but with a positive outcome. So, I stay out of the way.
I gaze down at the waterways and streets below. The hustle of the week is the same yet different to that of the weekend. A tourist boat floats up The Thames, and mothers and fathers with their children point out the sights. Will that be Leah and me? Probably not. We aren’t a couple, and we’re creating a child to fill a gap in both our lives. Is that wrong? Loving our child will be our priority as parents even if we don’t love each other, surely that is the most important thing.
“They’re ready,” Leah says.
I turn to see her hold out a plate containing the largest sandwich I’ve ever seen. Leah averts her gaze, so I take the sandwich, and move to my office.
This is one problem I can’t fix. I can’t magic an insemination kit. It means we’ll have to wait another month. Why does that bother me so much?