Page 10 of Seeded By Two

The further we got from the Claiming Room, the more I thought there had to be some mistake.

The Assistant hadn’t given me any reason as to why I should have been taken from the rest of the lineup, and just kept on marching onward down the corridor.

I kept checking over my shoulders in case one of the Assistants came running up waving a piece of paper (I don’t know why it should be a piece of paper — everything with the Facility was ultra modern and I hadn’t seen so much as a single sheet since arriving here) and declare that there had indeed been an error and I should return to the Claiming Room right away where my gorgeous alien male was standing, impatiently, waiting for me.

But that never happened.

Instead, we passed several rooms where the females — and males alike — were extremely loud and vocal with their lovemaking.

I grew angry.

It should be me making those loud screeching noises!

Not on the outside listening in!

I had some very valuable cargo in my uterus to be filled with cargo and shipped off! (Okay, so it was a poor analogy for getting knocked up but I was hugely annoyed, so give me a break.)

I was about to tap the Assistant on the shoulder when she pulled up and turned on her heel sharply, making me almost run into the back of her.

She frowned at me as if I had done it on purpose.

She wore the same frown as when she’d asked if the voice was sure he meant to pick me and not the other female.

This made me even more annoyed.

“The client is waiting for you,” she said simply.

“Client? Waiting? Where?”

The Assistant curled her lip and motioned to the door behind her.

It was one of the ornate doors that led to the suites that lined either side of the corridor.

I suddenly felt weak and I gulped. “H-He’s in there?”

I didn’t know why I should be so nervous now — surely it was better to have the male waiting for me in a room than for a pack of rampaging brutes to claw at me and my body parts?

And yet, somehow, it wasn’t better.

One-on-one felt a whole lot more intimate, and there was always the chance he would change his mind and decide I wasn’t the right female for him.

Rejection.

The same old story.

At least if we were in the Claiming Room and he decided to move on to another female, I could console myself with the knowledge that there would be another male in the room who would want me.

The Assistant leaned in close. “Don’t keep him waiting.”

With her warm words of advice, she marched past me — or almost through me — and back down the hallway in the direction we had come.

I gulped, not quite sure how to proceed.

Knock on the door, numbnuts!

I raised a fist that suddenly seemed tiny measured against the vastness of the door before me.

As I knocked, the sound seemed hollow and small, like a nervous child at the door to the principal’s office.

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