Fiction Tennis, Volley 17

as reply to Fiction Tennis, Volley 16

She wondered if he thought about her even once after that night. Probably not, she assumed. They'd met at the bar, as both of them often met strangers at the bar. She didn't recognize him as a regular there, but that wasn't surprising -- the bar had a lot of regulars and yet she still managed to follow the scent to a different man each time she set her mind to it. This time she saw his ring. Of course she saw his ring. But it only made him more attractive, the scenario more of a dare. Later that night as she straddled him, she grabbed his hands for support and felt the cold metal on his finger.

It had been a busy month since then. Her career was just starting to blossom at the firm and her case load suddenly skyrocketed. She'd had no time for fun, not even a quick drink or fuck.

He didn't say anything about the condom breaking. Maybe he didn't notice. Maybe, like a typical man, he didn't care and thought nothing of it. But here she was, sitting in a stall at work, staring at a positive test. She sighed. She was a practical woman. And a lawyer. Yet her first thought was to reconnect with the only suspected offender. She dialed his number. The one she'd asked for casually before he left the hotel room. The one he punched into her phone and she'd never looked at again. She had no idea if he even entered his real number. But she was about to find out.
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