Page 40 of Written in the Charts

It was so dark in the hallway I couldn’t see where we were going, so I had to slide my hand along the wall to feel. When I gripped the doorknob, I hesitated, allowing our bodies to grind against one another again. Gypsy whimpered as my cock squeezed against her pelvis. Her hands gripped my hip, and I covered her mouth with mine again, our tongues dancing together in a feverish tango.

Desire welled in me, my cock feeling like a balloon ready to burst. I opened the door and backed her in. On the way past the switch, Gypsy flipped it. The room lit up, and I could see the way her lips and face were red from kissing. I had her against the edge of the bed in only a few seconds, so I pushed her down. She bounced and giggled, crawling backward and propping herself on her elbows.

I kicked off my shoes and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it. My cock poked out of my jeans, making my boxers bulge, and I slid them off, tossing them. She tugged her shirt off, one breast exposed from the way I groped her right out of her bra. Her hard nipple called my name. I could see the dot of moisture that had worked its way out thanks to her stroking. I licked my lips, ready to dive in and taste her.

“You’re going to have to take your clothes off for this to work.” I snickered, watching her roll to the side and lean on an elbow. I couldn’t help it. My dick was so hard it almost hurt. I stroked myself as I watched her face. Her eyes were glued to my hand, stroking and toying with myself. I was ready to fuck her.

“Hold on. I’ll be right back.” Gypsy grinned, jumping off her bed and racing out of the room. I waited a second, wondering what she was doing, but my lust was so intense I couldn’t wait. If I stood there waiting I was going to beat off, so I followed her. The light of the bedroom streamed down the hallway into the kitchen. I could hear her rifling around, and a light was on, calling me forward. I’d fuck her on the dining room table if she let me. I just wanted inside her, and soon.

I rounded the corner into the kitchen and saw her ass in the air, the perfect curves of her hips and thighs making my heart beat a bit faster. The light from the fridge made her hourglass curves a perfect silhouette, and I wanted to yank her skirt down and fuck her right there. I flicked the light on, though, advancing toward her. She turned around, a can of whipped cream in her hand. She shook it and smirked at me.

“That looks fun.” I waggled my eyebrows and grinned at her, still stroking myself. She eyed my cock, dripping with precum, and shook the can of whipped cream. She was so fucking hot. I wanted to spray that cream on her tits and slide my dick through it, but she had other plans.

Gypsy turned the can upside down and sprayed whipped cream all over my cock. The chill made me wince, but as she started to stroke me, I relaxed. A smile stretched across my face as I locked eyes with her. She tortured me, spreading that cream around and teasing me to a fever. Then she filled her other hand with a dollop of whipped cream and fondled my balls.

“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to shock you with the cold. Maybe I should warm you up now?” She smirked and began lowering to the floor. She had me so close to the edge I would explode instantly when her mouth closed around me, so I looked around the room for something to distract myself. Her hand felt amazing, stroking and teasing. My frantic search to get my mind off the sensation for a second had my eyes roaming the counters. If I didn’t, I was going to blow on her face.

Then my eyes locked on a bottle of pills. I instantly read the label—prenatal vitamins. My chest tightened, and I put my hand on her forehead and backed away.

“What are you doing?” She looked up at me, confused. I scowled at her. She looked hurt, her hand dropping from its position on my dick.

Still covered in whipped cream, I turned away from her panicked expression. She saw where I was looking and whimpered. I picked up the bottle and read the label. The vitamins had been prescribed to her by Derek, four days ago. Here we were, days after Christmas, and she hadn’t thought that this was important news? I turned to glare at her.

“Gypsy? Derek, really?” Not only had she kept this a secret from me for God only knows how long, but Derek knew too? Probably Maggie too, now that I thought about it. Had they known at our Christmas dinner a few weeks ago?

I tossed the pills back onto the counter and grabbed a hand towel that was draped over the edge of the sink, wiping the whipped cream off my deflating cock. She shrank back, eyes on the floor as she sat back on her feet and folded her hands in her lap. I was furious. The dam broke open, and I couldn’t stop it. I wanted to scream, to smash things. The weight of every bit of mistrust I had for women everywhere was suffocating.

“You’re pregnant, and you didn’t tell me? You didn’t think I’d want to know? After what happened before? After what happened with Misty?” I threw the towel in the sink, a film of whipped cream still lingering on my body. I didn’t care. I was too angry to care. She was just as bad as I thought she was, as bad as I knew all women were.

I stormed off, charging down the hallway to the bedroom where my clothes lay piled on the floor. My dick was totally limp now—no hope of regaining that arousal. She was pregnant, and she hadn’t told me a thing. No words could express what I was feeling.

“Evan, you don’t understand. Please, just listen to me,” she called after me, chasing me down the hallway. I could hear her crying. It served her right, being hurt like this. It didn’t even trigger my sympathy. And to think she got pissy with me over not telling her about a job I didn’t even have yet. She was hiding something so much worse. She tried to grab my elbow, and I yanked it away, grabbing my boxers and jeans.

I dressed quickly, ready to be as far away from her as I could be. My body had been so worked up, and now it felt like I’d been kicked in the balls. “You still don’t get it, do you?” She sobbed as I pulled my pants on and zipped myself in, frantically looking around for my shirt. When I couldn’t find it, I grabbed my shoes.

“Evan, please just let me explain myself.” She hugged her arms over her stomach, her tit still hanging out. “I just—”

“Lied to me again!” I sat on the edge of the bed and put a shoe on. When I tried the other it wouldn’t budge, so I stood and stomped my foot, forcing the damn thing on my foot. I’d have left without it if it wasn’t below zero outside.

“Evan, please.”

I walked out of the bedroom, needing my shirt and coat. She followed me, blubbering like an idiot. She had no right to even cry. She was the one who had kept this secret. My reaction was reasonable.

“No, Gypsy. I’ve listened enough. I heard enough of your lies. That’s all it’s been this whole time, hasn’t it?” I picked up my shirt and tugged it on. She tried reaching for my hand and I backed away.

I picked up my coat from the back of the couch where I’d tossed it in my haste to get her naked. “I don’t have to do anything. And I’m done. I should never have come back. You know that? I was better off out there getting my heart stomped on by other bitches. I can’t believe you lied to me again.”

“Evan!” Her eyes grew wide after her shout. “Listen to me. I was going to tell you tonight, after our night was over. I wanted to tell you sooner.”

I glared at her. “How far along are you?”

Her face dropped. “Eight weeks.”

“Eight weeks!” I controlled myself, knowing I was at the point of blowing up like never before. I’d learned my lesson with Peter and Derek and Serah. With a controlled tone, I said, “You’ve known for weeks, and you said nothing. Let me give you the benefit of the doubt and say you learned when your period was late. That means you’ve known at least four weeks. Let’s say it is late often, so you didn’t think of it for a few more weeks after it was late. You’ve known for weeks. For fuck’s sake, Gypsy. You’ve known long enough to have gone to a doctor, gotten pills prescribed, and had your first checkup. You know the due date, and maybe even the gender by now.”

She cried hard, shaking her head. “No, that’s not true.”

“Maybe not, but what is true is that I’m done. There’s not a single woman on this planet who can be trusted.” I couldn’t believe I was saying this. “Goodbye, Gypsy.” I barged out into the cold, shoving my jacket on as I went.

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