Impulse

Not So Human

I could be offended by what he just did, but I’m going to take it as another chance to slip away. I back up a little bit and watch him stand there with his right hand rubbing vigorously against his cheek---which bares this irresistibly sexy five o clock shadow by the way.

“We had sex a week ago,” he rubs his cheek again, “No way in hell you would know that soon.”

It’s a far-fetched plan, but I’m still pretty intent on getting out of here because this sich smells like danger and my body’s humming like I need a dose of Alex again.

I will not have sex with him.

I will not have sex with him.

I won’t.

I won’t.

Oh God I need him to……bury it so deep until I’m…until I’m---

Control it Kei, control it.

“But I have all the symptoms!” I bite the tip of my thumb and pace over his soft carpet, “maybe you have like super sperm or something and now there’s a baby growing inside me at a rapid rate. You never know.”

I know I want to get the hell out of here.

I pace a little bit further to the door, circle around and then head back but lover boy is right on my heels semi pacing along with me. He leans against the door and I just know that all hope of ever getting out of there is gone.

He looks at me and I just wish he wouldn’t because I can’t take how intense his eyes are and the way they make me feel like I’m mush or something. I could melt into the floor.

“You sure as hell didn’t talk this much when we got it on that night.”

He crosses his arms with a neutral expression, his forearms aren’t huge, but they’re pretty impressive. Either he works out or he has phenomenal genes when it comes to his physique. I’d like him better though if he would move away from the door so I could get out of here.

And what was that trick he did earlier?

“And you thought I was a prostitute!” I snap back and then clutch my stomach at this stupid spasm ripping through my belly.

Then another one.

Meanwhile lover boys eyes are distant, “I never thought you were a prostitute. It was a bad joke.”

And it was so funny.

I feel a knife in my side and gasp, grasp my stomach with both arms and feel my legs buckling beneath me.

What if I am pregnant? And I’m having a miscarriage?

“Oh god, Oh god,” a soft arm wraps around my waist just at the moment my legs decide to give out completely.

I see blood…everywhere and I scream.

The pressure builds up and between seeing blood all over Alex and his room and the knife wedged in my gut I’m pretty certain that an aneurysm is in the not-so-distant future.

His hand presses against my mouth to stifle the scream, “Calm down.”

It’s so simple for him, but I nod anyway and to my relief he drops his hand, “Now stand still so I can see what’s going on.”

I see his hand drift to the waist band of the boxers and I tense up. If he gets any closer I’m afraid I’m going to pounce on him.

I think there’s a word for this feeling of sexual insatiability. It’s not a favorable one.