Page 9 of Baby Proposal
Fuck, that shouldn’t matter, but I’m so turned on it would be hilarious if I weren’t also certain that I need far more than her virginity and to be the father of her child.
“It doesn’t matter. The virgin thing. To me.” She’s tripping over her words and she’s so sweet and innocent and perfect, I want to eat her up.
I need her love.
Will sex give me that? I told myself as I offered that I’d take her on any terms. The thought of her having a baby with anyone else made overwhelming jealousy drown any semblance of logic.
“I’m really sorry. Don’t feel you need to teach me, or go easy or anything. I know you must think I’m…” Her voice goes quiet. “Pathetic. Sad.”
“Don’t say that about yourself.” My words must be harsher than I intend, because she winces.
“It’s true,” she mutters at the floor.
Then I can’t help it. I grasp her chin and gently but firmly force her to look into my eyes.
“It is not true.” My voice is definitely hard this time. A command. “You’re strong and brave and clever. Repeat.”
There’s a stretch of silence when she blinks at me in disbelief and I think she might refuse.
“I’m…”
“Yes.” Nodding, I encourage her, then wait.
“Strong and brave and clever,” she replies softly, her soft bottom lip moving under my grasp.
“Good girl.”
And I’m rewarded by the smallest of smiles.
Brushing her cheek with my thumb, it’s a struggle to withdraw, like I’m chained to her.
I have to think, and having her within reach and appearing so uncertain tears me apart. It brings out my most domineering nature.
I turn away abruptly. If I look at her waiting for me to impregnate her any longer, I’ll lose control and do just that and possibly squander any chance of the bigger prize. A real relationship with her. Not sniping and grumbling at her as my assistant, trying to wind her up. Not being a fucking sperm donor.
I want to be her husband in truth. Her lover. Her confidant and her friend. The person she comes to for help and understanding and affection and love. When she needs something—anything—I need her to ask me before she reaches out to strangers on the internet and buys fucking turkey basters.
Everything. I want everything from Adrianne, and I’m offering co-parenting and a fake relationship.
I stare out over London. The sky is blue-white-grey, a swirling mess of clouds that reflects my emotions as I hear her fidget behind me.
How do I make her fall in love with me?
My mouth twists satirically. Okay, that’s a high bar for a morally grey, grumpy mafia boss. I’m not going to be able to jump it.
How do I persuade her that I’m worth keeping around, and to trust me for forever?
One night of sex won’t achieve that. First times aren’t always perfect, and though I’m confident I can satisfy her, what if she’s nervous? She’s never shown any sign oflikingme. Being attracted to, yes, but am I really going to gamble my one chance with the woman I love on what might be a single night?
No. That’s entirely unacceptable. By the time I take her virginity, she has to want this as much as I do. There’s only one path forwards here.
I turn back to Adi. Her expression has changed to a mix of misery and waiting for rejection.
“I don’t mind that you’re a virgin.” I did not realise I was capable of that level of understatement. It’s kind of impressive.
“Right. Good.” She takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders. “Now we’ve got that little revelation out of the way, shall we get going?” she says brightly, with a tone of abrupt false lightness that usually makes me want to laugh.
“You know.” She licks her lips. “Get on with it.”
