Page 80 of Trials of a One Night Stand
She moans and wiggles.
I nip at her earlobe, and my hand slips from her ass to inside her leggings and panties. My heart nearly implodes. “Tell me what you need, sweetheart, so I can give it to you. You are fucking everything to me, Jayne. I’m falling for you, heavy and hard.”
“Fuck me, Nate,” she says, pulling me in for another scorching kiss. “Fuck me like it’s our first time.”
And I do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
JAYNE
Of all the ways I’ve imagine my career ending, I never thought it would be begin with me sitting in my boss’s immaculate office while he ignores me. I ignore the cloudless blue sky out the floor-to-ceiling windows and stare at a framed motivational quotes on Jason’s wall. Perseverance: The hard work you do after you get tired of doing the hard work you already did. How ironic.
I shift uncomfortably in the sleek, ergonomic chair that probably cost more than my monthly per diem. It’s one of those chairs designed to make you feel important, but I feel like a kid sent to the principal’s office right now. Except the principal never had the power to take away my livelihood.
I’m not trying to minimize the issue of being involved with Nate, but I believed my work ethic and exemplary record would get me past my one-night stand with the opposition, especially since the conception happened before I was assigned to the case. As for seeing Nate after that, well, I knew I was playing with fire, but I am carrying his child. I’d just hoped not to get burned or lose anything in the process. A burn that would eventually heal doesn’t seem so bad now.
Jason types furiously on his keyboard, his plucked brow furrowing in concentration. Or constipation. It’s hard to tell with him. The silence is deafening, broken only by the aggressive clacking of keys and the occasional ping of an email notification. I’m tempted to hum the Jeopardy theme, but I doubt Jason would appreciate my musical talent.
I survey the office, taking in the meticulously organized bookshelf full of pretentious titles (does anyone actually read those things?), awards, and a family photo. Oliver’s smiling mug makes me wonder if the group of young adults, none who appear to be related by DNA, were each bribed with a new car if they behaved and put their phones away for the photo session.
My hand unconsciously drifts to my stomach. No baby bump yet, but the little blob inside me is about to turn my life upside down. Well, more upside down than it already is, considering I’m about to get fired from a job I like. Most days. I’ll admit working with Lucas Matthews and Sugar Valley Drugs hasn’t been fun. More frustrating than anything.
I check my watch for the third time in as many minutes. How long does it take to fire someone? Is there a protocol? Or a minimum time requirement to make it look like they really thought it through? Maybe I should’ve brought popcorn. Although the smell might’ve made me throw up. Some scents I can’t take right now.
Jason finally looks up, his face a mask of professional detachment. But I can see the disappointment in his eyes. Great. It’s like disappointing my grandpa all over again, except Jason never taught me how to change a tire or made me pancakes shaped like Mickey Mouse.
“Jayne,” he says, his voice grave. “We need to talk.”
I resist the urge to respond with “No shit, Sherlock.” Instead, I plaster on my best “I’m a responsible adult who definitely hasn’t made any life-altering mistakes recently” smile. “What’s up?”
He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers like some James Bond villain. All he needs is a white cat to stroke. “You know why you’re here.”
I consider playing dumb but decide against it. My acting skills are limited to pretending I’m not exhausted at work, and even then, I’m pretty sure the only person I fool is Carl, a paralegal. He once tried to expense a lap dance, so his judgment is questionable at best.
“I suppose this isn’t because I called the client a ‘condescending potato’ in the group chat? Because in my defense, he really was being quite tuber-esque.”
Jason’s eye twitches slightly. “You know it’s not. You’re usually the serious one, Jayne. What’s gotten into you?”
A biochemist with dreamy eyes and a killer smile, whose dick knows exactly how to hit my sweet spot. Um, wrong answer, but true nonetheless. I try to appear appropriately chastised. “Right. Sorry.”
“Are you sorry, Jayne?” Jason’s patience is wearing thin. I can practically see the vein in his forehead throbbing. “I can’t believe you kept your relationship with Nate Lowe a secret.”
And just like that, the bottom drops out of my stomach. The little blob inside me does a somersault, and I’m not sure if it’s morning sickness or pure, unadulterated panic. Probably both.
Here we go. Bring it on, Jason. I’ve already puked twice today, so really, how much worse can this get?
“A relationship?” My voice squeaks like a mouse caught in a particularly embarrassing trap, but I’m not admitting anything without prompting. I’m sure Oliver called his stepdaddy and told him everything. “It depends on your definition.”
Jason’s gaze narrows, and his nostrils flare. It’s not a good look on him. “You’re too smart to play dumb. You know exactly what I mean.”
I do, but the idea of making a run for it flashes through my brain. The door’s only a few feet away, and I’m wearing flats. But my cardio isn’t what it used to be. Plus, you know, the whole bun-in-the-oven situation. I’ve been busted, and all I can do is face the music. I just never thought it would be a requiem.
“I’m not sure what you heard.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it isn’t easy. “I met Mr. Lowe before I was put on this case. The night before, to be exact. I’m not proud to admit this, but I also had no idea what his last name was when we met. I didn’t know or see him again until the preliminary hearing in Portland.”
Jason’s eye twitches again. I’m worried he might have a medical condition.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
