The Professional Lover II (18+) | [Complete]

30 : Finding It

December 2002. Six weeks later...

The Christmas party was annoying, but it made for some seriously good foreplay. Jude likes to fuck hard and fast, just like I do. I grip his ass as he goes to work on my pussy like he's the one making money.

"Ah!" he groans, slowing his thrusts to hang on a bit longer. I roll him to his back and take my rightful place.

He holds my hips as I pump them over his length. Leaning my head back, my mind blurs to the pleasure and wanders to my textbook. I place my hands over his and trace the bones inside them. Metacarpal, proximal phalanx, phalanges.

"Yeah, baby, just like that!" he moans. Shut up, I'm busy, I think as I move onto the pelvic complex.

His fingers trace over the skin hiding my iliac crest, brush against my anterior iliac -- wait. I look forward, grinding my hips against his lap to churn him inside me. The curved part on the hip has four names. Anterior -- fuck, that feels good. Anterior something iliac. Anterior ... Shit.

"Fuck!" His fingers dig into the skin at the proximal portion of my femur. The fuck is that called? Goddammit, I have a lot left to study.

He shudders between my thighs, still gripping me. I slow my grinding to a stop as he softens.

As much as he initially resisted, Jude turned out to be a big fan of a GFE. Being young and filthy rich makes it hard for him to trust people. Which is relatable, minus the rich part. He feels more comfortable taking me to events knowing he'll only be out four-hundred dollars, rather than waking up to his wallet missing and strange itch. Though I can't trust that he's not snitching to Remy behind my back, I can at least trust him to pay me for the immense pleasure of my company.

I ease him out of me and roll to my back beside him. "Fuck, that was good," Jude says as he tries to catch his breath. "I want a cigarette so bad. What asshole decided you can't smoke in hotel rooms?" he jokes.

I laugh and roll towards him to lie on my stomach. "Your jokes suck more than I do."

"You're one to talk." He smirks for a moment, but grimaces and looks down at the mess of a condom leaking onto his stomach. He sits up to take care of the mess. "Did you want to stay here tonight?" he asks as he wipes himself with the tissues. "The room is already paid for." I don't know whether he wants me to or if he's just being nice.

I will never sleep with a John again. Besides, what's the point? He's already paid me for the time, it's not like he owes me anything else. But, I did make him come twice, so ...

"I was planning on going home," I tell him.

"Okay." His tone is unflustered. He was just being nice. He tosses the mess into the trash and turns back to me. The smile spread across his face as he leans in and presses a kiss to my lips. "Thanks for a great time."

I grin. "You keep stealing my lines, handsome."

♡♡♡

I make it back to the apartment. Cheshire sits on the couch in her panties and a t-shirt. "Hey, babe!" she greets me. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," I answer. "Jude's an easy one to please."

"Well, you don't have to brag, bitch." She smiles wide, her perfect teeth showing as she laughs.

I smile back as I sit down my purse and flop onto the couch next to her. I feel lucky Cheshire got me the job so quickly. The brothel is nice, but I like the outcall option even better. Though it isn't famous like the ranch, it's the second best thing.  It was hard finding clients on my own for the first time, only Jude seemed like a viable option. So, Chesh and I stay there during the weekends and nights we work for walk-ins, and during the week, we stay together at Dev's place where she's subletting while he's gone. 

We're together. A lot. But I don't know if that means anything yet. Keeping busy with school and a new job keeps my mind too occupied for anything else. Getting away from my past has honestly made me the happiest I've been in months. Cheshire has a lot to do with my happiness, too. 

I lean closer and I push her down to her back on the couch. She giggles as I crawl over her. I move closer and kiss her neck, sucking her soft skin between my lips as I trail downward.

"Have you showered?" she asks me.

"Yes." I run my hands up her waist, lifting her shirt. Exposing her perfect breasts, I nibble my lip before I lean down and suck one of the hardened tips into my mouth, caressing the supple softness in my hand when my mouth leaves. She giggles again, building my desire to elicit more sounds from her. I push her to her back and lean down to kiss her stomach. Trailing my lips over the crest of her hipbone, I pull her shorts down, exposing the perfection underneath.

I press her thighs apart, but she snaps them back together. "Did you brush your teeth?" she asks. I hesitate. "Oh my God, go brush your teeth!" she yells at me with a laugh. I pout but do as I'm told. 

♡♡♡

I cross my legs and wait for the doctor to come in. Bi-weekly STD testing isn't fun, but it's a necessary part of the job. It makes me wonder why I thought going multiple months was okay before.

I glance at my phone to check the time and see it's 3:42. Eighteen more minutes of "doctor's office" then I will run off to the library to study for finals for the next two hours before it is time to feed myself. I'm taking everything in thirty-minute blocks. It's simple. Specific. No extraneous thinking about my fucked up life required.

There is a light tap on the door before it swings open. "Hello, Ms. Abbatelli," the doctor greets me as she walks in with my chart.

"Hi," I hesitantly return. She isn't my regular doctor, which means she doesn't know I'm a sex worker. I'm not looking forward to answering the slew of questions that come before my exam, but I've done this dance so many times, I could do it in my sleep.

"We should have your blood work back in the next few days and will call you with the results, but your urinalysis test results are complete," she tells me. "Were you aware that you're pregnant?"

Time seems to stop. The gravity in the room grows stronger, the air much colder. My mind recognizes the word, but it doesn't understand it. "I'm wh-what?"

"Your pregnancy test came back positive," she explains as if it's that simple to understand.

I stare at her as she looks through my chart. "I'm ... pregnant?"

She looks up at me, a single eyebrow cocked. "So you didn't know?"

I shake my head. "No, obviously," you dumb bitch.

Fucking fuck. I don't understand how this happened. Well, I understand the logistics, at least; my fancy birth control failed. I don't have unprotected sex with clients, only people I trust. Too bad that doesn't help me much right now.

"Wh-what am I ... what am I supposed to ... to do?" I feel nauseous and I want to throw up. I guess I know why.

"The next step is to confirm through ultrasound," she explains as if my world isn't falling apart. "Would you like to have the father present for that?"

The father? I look over at her, and I want to cry. "That's a really bad idea."

The doctor gives me a confused look. "Why?"

I sob, realizing the irony of it all. "Because I have no idea who the fuck it is."

_____

A/N: We've made it back. Who do you think (not hope) the father is?

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