"Mom hurry up, hurry up!" my daughter practically screams out at me, causing me to swerve the car. "Lyla, geez! How many times have I told you not to yell, or raise your voice loudly while I am driving?" I look at her once, waiting for her answer.

"Mom you are so freaking paranoid, gosh I wasn't that loud." she gets smart with me, causing me to stop hard on the break as the light turns red. "Excuse me? Do you want to say that in another tone of voice? Possibly changing your words, you have just spoken to me?" I raise my eyebrow, looking at her as if she's lost her natural born mind.

"I apologize for my choice of words, I am just so happy to meet the guy who helped you give me life. I have been waiting for this moment for such a long time; eighteen years to be exact." She looks at me with her big hazel eyes, pouting her lips.

I sigh tiredly in defeat, knowing I cannot stay upset at my little girl too long. I have never been able to. She has always been a well-behaved child, not a single problem in school, church, or anywhere else. She may not be my little-little girl anymore, but she will always be my little big girl. Even if she turned the big one-eight just a week ago.

Around early December we made a phone call to the Donor Bank, letting them know she would be turning the legal age of 18 in January. They immediately knew what we were hinting at right away, almost in an instant setting everything up for us to move forward with the process.

Lyla has always expressed wanting to meet her Sperm Donor, ever since she was a little girl. Of course she couldn't then, because of the age rules and regulations. But now, nothing is holding her back. When she asked to call the Donor Bank on the fifteenth of December, I looked at her as if she was playing around. She wasn't, she was dead serious.

She was smart to have wanted to call earlier on; the process was quite long to get in touch with the donor. To say I was shocked was not the word. I was– still am– absolutely bewildered. I'm not even sure why. Maybe because she wanted to actually meet the man who is technically her father, or maybe because he listed down in his application that he was an Open Identity Sperm Donor. He basically is open to meeting his donation-born offspring's when they turn 18 years of age.

Lyla took her age into consideration and decided that's what she wanted to do. Hell, that girl had her mind made up at five years old. She wouldn't stop asking where her "daddy" was. The donor without a doubt, agreed to meet her and now we are off to a coffee shop to meet up. I was proud of my daughter's decision, usually someone who turns 18 wants to do something wild. I am relieved the discussion didn't turn into her wanting a tattoo. But her getting piercings have. Oh my Lord above.

"How do you think he will look? Do you think he will be nice, mean, conceited? I look like you, but clearly I look like him too... I am mixed race." She eagerly questions, looking at herself in the rearview mirror on the passengers side.

"Hmm, I don't know. I mean clearly he will be attractive: just look at how beautiful you are, sweetheart. When I chose his profile, he had good qualities. He's clearly smart: like you. He said he was friendly: like you. He has pretty good health: exactly like you, Miss I Don't Really Get Sick. I think he will be okay." I assure her, making a left turn on the road.

I almost forgot to mention my child is biracial. She is half African American, and half Caucasian to be exact. Or just black and white if you want to be plain and simple. Her donor being a white man was definitely not a mistake on my part. If anything, he was who I chose with the traits I felt would be a good choice for my child. He is also a proven fact that a black women and white men can have a baby... or children with one another. To this day, my parents still think otherwise and refuses to have anything to do with me and my family.

My mother and father always told me dating, marrying, and even having children outside my race was a horrible idea, especially if it was with a white man. My parents deemed all white people as racists and no good individuals. This all has to do with the racism they demonstrated towards my family. I admit, I was racially profiled many of times, as well as experiencing racism and hatred towards me and my family growing up.

You see, I grew up in a predominantly white neighborhood in Charlottesville, Virginia. It is said to be one of the most racist, most anti-black states there is. Almost most of the population by race is Caucasian people, and the rest is of other ethnicities. So, my family and I had it tough, but my mother and father always refused for us to leave our home. Well, that's until my brother was killed by white supremacists nearly 13 years ago.

Those men beat my brother with wooden sticks until he fell unconscious on the pavement, later causing him to go into a coma. He had a concussion, which then swelled up with blood clots causing him to die from too much brain damage.

To this day my family and I still do not know what happened, but we do know my brother did not rob an elderly blind woman of her purse. No, he made his own money– lots of it at that. He was a lawyer and was going home from work. It was a hate crime most definitely, and as much as I didn't want to, I still forgave those men. I know just because they hurt my loved one, that doesn't define the rest of their race. My mother and father still do not get it; they unfortunately hate white people... and they hate the fact that my daughter is half white.

"Mommy we are getting closer, and I'm starting to get super nervous." Lyla snaps me out of my thoughts, as she widens her eyes, pushing a piece of her curly hair away from her face. "You will be okay, Lyla. This is what you wanted, remember?" As I am asking, I pull into the parking structure of a nice coffee shop, in expensive Manhattan, New York.

I do not understand why he asked for us to go all out of our way, and meet him in Manhattan of all places. He could have asked us to meet in the middle, predominantly on our side of town. But, I guess meeting here is okay to. Lyla began to cry when I refused for her to meet him in such an uppity type place, but then I saw the tears in her eyes and instantly agreed. As a mother I would do almost anything–legal– for my child.

"Are you ready?" I cut off the engine of the car, reaching in the backseat to get my scarf and purse. "Yes... and no. But I want to get this over with and finally meet him. I have been wanting to meet him for as long as I can remember." She adjusts the beanie on her head of full curls, as she then opens up the door on her side.

I do the same with my door, letting the cold January air hit me dead on in my face. This New York weather around this time of year is no joke. As I wrap my scarf securely around my neck, my hands are immediately taken away from my scarf and into the glove wearing hands of my daughter. She has always liked to hold my hand ever since she was little. She's not one of those teenagers who dislikes being kissed, or shown any affection by their parents in public either. If anything she makes me hug, kiss, or hold her. She's my big baby.

"Mom it's so cold today, huh?" She loops her arm with mine, laying her head on my shoulder as we walk towards the coffee shop door. "Yeah, but the snowfall has slowed down somewhat, so we will be okay." I assure her, as we walk into the coffee shop doors.

As soon as we step foot inside of the warm coffee shop, Lyla and I both grow extremely awkward and definitely out of place. As I look around my surroundings, I notice there is nothing but wealthy looking people inside the elegance of the coffee house. Surely, they all must be upper-class, seeing how posh they appear.

"These people look like they are worth millions and millions of dollars." Lyla whispers, as she pulls my arm closer to her body. "I know." I inwardly grimace at the atmosphere around us.

Continuing to scope out our surroundings in slight nervousness, many thoughts and questions cross my mind. I guess my face displays a certain look, causing Lyla to tug on my arm. I look up at her and give her a reassuring smile, not wanting her to become nervous herself.

"Let's just find this man already." Sighing in slight irritation, I pull us along to begin our little search.

With a hesitate head nod from Lyla, we slowly walk past the lingering eyeballs fixed on us, and start looking at each person that could possibly be the guy we have come here for.

After about five minutes or more of looking for this this guy, Lyla and I both come to sad conclusions that he stood us up. The look of pure disappointment appears on her face, and I couldn't do anything but frown in irritation that, that ass didn't even have the decency to call and cancel. Trust and believe we tried to call him, though he did not answer.

"Let's just go." My daughter mumbles in defeat, not once breaking the stare she has on her shoes. "No. If we came all of this way to meet this person here, we might as well enjoy some of the food." Grasping her wrist in my hand, I walk us towards a cashier to get us a table.

:::

"So, do you think I should call him again, just to see if he wants to reschedule?" I stop my munching on my croissant, knitting my eyebrows in confusion at my daughter's question.

"You really don't see the bad in people, do you? He stood us up and you still want to reschedule?"

"I mean I know I should be upset or whatever, but I feel like there's a reason as to why he stood us up today." She shrugs her shoulders, before leaning forward to sip her pink lemonade through her straw.

Placing the last piece of my croissant in my mouth, I sit up and think about what Lyla just said. Her donor could in fact had a liable explanation as to why he didn't show up, but that doesn't mean he couldn't have called. Sighing lowly, I clear my throat to give Lyla a response to her previous reply to me. Although I am cut short by a deepened voice, before I even get the words out of my mouth.

"Lyla Adams?" Lyla and I quickly turn our attention to the side of us, coming face to face with a well-dressed man in what appears to be a very expensive suit and shoes. "U-uh yeah." My child shyly looks up at the man, then to me for some help.

"Are you Kevin Sterling? We were supposed to meet him earlier today, although he pulled an asshole move and stood us up." I look up at the nicely dressed man, watching how his facial expression changes from a neutral look to annoyance. "First of all, it's not an asshole move, if someone was running a bit late due to a business meeting. And to answer your question, yes I am Kevin Sterling." His words were choppy and straightforward, causing me to widen my eyes for a quick second, but then I cock my head to the side at him having the audacity to keep me and my baby waiting.

"So, you are in fact Mr. Sterling." I stated more so than question. "That is what I just said, Miss?"

"Adams, Latisha Adams." I respond, not taking his out stretched hand. "Well hello to you too then." He pulls his hand back sharply, whilst giving me a slight glare before he turns towards Lyla and smiles in her direction.

She returns his smile like the nice and polite person she is, just before she lightly clears her throat. She stretches out her hand towards Mr. Sterling–hopefully he shakes it, because if he doesn't I'll bite his pinky finger off. Thankfully he takes it into his own, giving her another smile with those pearly white teeth of his.

"It is such a great pleasure to meet you, Lyla." He smiles her way again, and stares at me once more. "Same to you, Mr. Sterling."

"Please call me, Kevin. Mr. Sterling reminds me too much of my father, plus I'm still quite young." My daughter automatically nods her head in agreement to his suggestion. "So, Mr. Sterling, are you going to stay to speak with us? Or do you have to go to one of your many of meetings you have?"

"Mom," Lyla raises her voice to scold me, but quickly shuts her mouth once I snap my eyes at her. "Please be nice. Please, mom." She whispers, although I'm pretty sure Mr. Sterling heard her.

I sigh at my daughters big, puppy dog-like eyes pleading with me. I vocally sigh at her little want from me and nod my head as I agree with her. I give her a small smile, and turn my head towards the sperm donor I chose for my kid.

"I apologize for my rudeness, Mr. Sterling. Would you like to join us? Maybe even get a bite to eat?" A huge smirk appears on his face, though it quickly disappears as a hint of mischief lingers upon his face. "I would greatly like that, Ms. Adams? It is Miss, right?" He takes the seat across from me that was once Lyla's.

"Yes, it is, Miss." I get up from my seat and let Lyla slide in next to me in the booth. "Ah, alright then. I kind of figured that, seeing how your boorish of a greeting reflected your character. Usually women like that do not keep male companionships too long, if I was you Ms. Adams, I would correct that vile attitude of yours." The son of a bastard had the nerve to say his unwanted opinion to me with a pleasant smile on his face, all while staying relatively calm and considerate of those around us.

It was in that moment, I realized that I should have never agreed to meet him with Nyla. Damn it! This is going to be a long as hell meeting.

:::

I quietly observe Kevin and Lyla's exchange of laughter, guessing games, and joking manner with one another. I do not say much, seeing how every time I say something I'm either ignored, or insulted in subtle manner by Kevin. I guess I deserve those insults, seeing how I cannot help but make little sarcastic comments about his opulent lifestyle.

So, to get me to hush up, Lyla and Kevin have somewhat ignored me. They have only ever included me in their conversation if it has to do with genetics, or characteristics Lyla shares between Kevin and me. I am brought out of my thoughts by more of their laughter, but this time it's a tad louder.

"Okay, okay, I think I got it now." Lyla laughs behind her hands covering her mouth. "Alright, go on." Kevin chuckles, giving her the go ahead, just as he takes a sip of his coffee and stares at me intensively.

I roll my eyes his way, making sure not to let Lyla see. Not that she hasn't seen me roll my eyes in his direction before. She would only give me those pleading eyes to be behave, or to remain on my best behavior. Funny how I'm the parent, yet my daughter is giving me orders today.

"Okay," Lyla says with a huge smile on her face, before taking a deep breath and blowing it out. "Your full name is Kevin Christopher Sterling, you are 41 years old. Um, you are the only child. Uh, uh... your dad's name is Stanley Sterling, and your mom's name is Carol Sterling," she pauses thinking of something else. "Oh yeah! You are 6'10 and you are the COO of your family's business... the business you refuse to tell me. Ooh I also forgot that you played basketball and..."

My eyes widen at the fact that this guy is six feet-ten inches! That is basically all I heard, and now I'm staring back at him now realizing he does look gigantic in this tiny restaurant booth we all are sitting in. I then draw my eyes towards the ground, where I realize that half of his leg is sticking out from underneath the table, and the other all the way on my side. I widen my eyes, and slowly bring them back up where Kevin is already looking at me, but making sure to give Lyla a "yeah" or an "uh huh" in response to Lyla rambling on.

"So, how did I do?" Lyla questions cheerfully, making Kevin and I snap out of our oddly non-awkward staring at one another.

He clears his throat, looking back at me with that intense stare of his, before turning his gaze towards Lyla with a smile on his lips.

"You did great," he shakes his head in surprise, while showing off his pearly white teeth. "But I'm not 41... I'm actually 40." He corrects her with a soft smile, to which Lyla groans in slight defeat.

He's 40 years old? Hmm, a year younger than me.

"Aww man, I almost had it. Hey, but you cannot lie and say I didn't get all the other details about you right." She points out, making me and Kevin chuckle. "I cannot, you do have a great memory. I have a great memory as well; I never forget a thing."

"Oh, I believe it, seeing how you are COO of your family's business," she points out, causing for him to lightly chuckle again, while he gave her a single nod. "Ooh excuse me mom, I have to go to the bathroom." My daughter stands up, while I do the same and let her pass by.

As she briskly walks towards the direction of the restroom, I watch her until I do not see her any longer. It suddenly grows quiet between me and Kevin, and I take that opportunity to take a sip of my ice tea. I try my best to look distracted with my drink–sipping and swirling my straw every now and then– all while I ignore Kevin looking at me with those smoldering eyes of his. But damn it I cannot seem to stay looking elsewhere, so I look and stare into those unknown colored eyes.

What even is the color of his eyes?

"I get that question a lot. They are grey, but sometimes they can be blue, and other times they are green," Kevin answers my question I clearly spoken out loud. "You've been awfully quiet since me and Lyla started talking. What's gotten you all dead silent?"

"Nothing has me dead silent, I'm just observing is all." Shrugging my shoulders, I look around to spot out Lyla. "Observing, huh? Is that what we are calling lustfully looking at people these days?" I quickly turn my head around and stare at Kevin with utter disgust.

"I was not looking at anyone lustfully, so you can shut that assumption down." I whisper yell, in attempts to defend myself. "Sure, you weren't lasciviously looking my way as if you wanted to jump my bones... or just one particular bone." I scoff in disgust, only earning a wink and chuckle from the ass in front of me.

"You are an egotistical, sexual, disgusting jackass!" I whisper yell, as I lean forward on the table while he does the same. "And you are one boring, yet sexy piece of woman I have ever seen. Mmm, I bet I can turn you into a dirty little whore with just a quickie in my car. A few fuck sessions with me, will have you set straight. That terrible attitude will be shut down in no time once I'm screwing you into humbleness." His harsh words come out quick and sharp, which only makes me react on impulse.

I take the rest of my ice tea and throw the contents in his face, and slam the cup down on the table. I know I just made a huge scene and a major fool of myself, but I refuse to let any man talk to me like that. I hurriedly grab up my purse, and storm away from the watchful eyes of onlookers, and those sexual lingering eyes of that asshole Kevin.

Making my way in the direction of the restrooms, I spot Lyla coming out of the swinging doors. Quickly rushing over to her, I take ahold of her wrist and storm off towards the entrance of the cafe. I know I just taken her by surprise, but I'll explain everything to her later. Or so I thought, that annoying voice of Kevin stops both Lyla and I all at once.

"Ms. Adams, please do not go." He doesn't say it loud, although he says it loud enough for me to know he's right behind us. "Let's go, Lyla." I tug on her arm, really trying not to make too much of a scene.

She groans in defeat, seeing how I'm not going to let her ha dad go. Once she backs down, I firmly pull her and myself out of that forsaken coffee shop with little to no acknowledgement of Mr. Sterling.

"Mom will you chill out! What is going on? Why did we leave?" She fires off question after question, as we walk out to the parking lot. "We are not seeing that man anymore! He is disrespectful!"

"I'm not understanding, Mom." She whispers, looking around the packed parking lot. "There is nothing to understand, he is a rude–"

"Ms. Adams," I hear the all too familiar stupid voice from behind me, and quickly turn around to curse him out but his appearance takes my breath away.

His white dress shirt is all wet from my ice tea I've thrown at him. I can see the stain the tea has made on his shirt, but that's not what I'm currently looking at. His shirt is sticking to his chest so very nicely, I can see the contour of his well-defined muscles. No doubt about it this man looks good, yet I know he's probably cold and quite sticky too. His hair is even wet, and now I feel a tad bit bad at dousing him with my beverage.

"Ms. Adams, I apologize for my foul language. It was inexcusable, and I am truly sorry." He shoves his hands in his black slacks, truly looking at me with a genuine sorrowful expression.

"Your words were very low and filthy." I speak lowly, looking anywhere but him. He looks way too good for me to be undressing him with my eyes. "I know."

"What happened?" Lyla walks closer to Kevin and I, waiting for an explanation from one of us. "Nothing you should worry yourself about." Kevin gives her a big smile, showing off all of his whitened teeth.

"I am worried," she expresses herself, with concern on her face. "My mom just said we can't see you anymore."

"We just had a slight disagreement is all, but don't you worry yourself. I am sure– well I hope, she will change her mind."

I inwardly roll my eyes at his little emphasis on 'slight', knowing damn well that wasn't slight. What he said secretly made me moist in my damn panties! Sighing lightly, I try to ignore and push those disgusting things he said to me, toward the very back of my head.

I'm not even sure whether to be upset he said them, or to agree that he is definitely right about certain things. Damn, it has been a while since I had any type of sexual relations. Hell, can people actually tell when a person isn't getting any?

"Hopefully we can meet up again." I come back to reality at hearing Kevin speak those words to Lyla. "I hope so too, because you have to meet Michael. He looks just like you." I widen my eyes at Lyla's words, and smack her on her arm.

"Girl, don't you be telling people my business." I unlock my car door and toss my things in the back seat. "Michael? Who is he?" I ignore Kevin, and close the back door shut.

"Sorry, it just slipped out." Lyla mumbles, backing away to get in the car. "Who is Kevin, Ms. Adams."

"Technically you aren't supposed to know until they turn 18, but cats out the bag now. You are a sperm donor to another child of mine." I give him a tight lip smile, and then shoot Lyla the same one. "I would like to meet him."

As soon as he said that, I knew he wasn't joking or playing around. He looks so serious, so eager to see Michael. I did what I had to do and agreed to let him see Michael.

:::

Two Weeks Later

"Lyla! Michael! Will you two get in here and help me with this food, Kevin should be here any minute!" I step out of the kitchen to yell at my social media influenced teenagers.

I didn't get a response, instead I got arguing by the two, followed by their footsteps padding against the carpeted flooring in our home. Then soon enough, I see my two kids coming inside the kitchen to help me set up the kitchen.

"Did you make some Kool-Aid?" My one and only son, Michael asks me as he helps me pull out the macaroni from the oven. "No, I bought it instead this time."

"Ma, I like it when you make up the Kool-Aid." He groans, placing the pan of macaroni down on the counter. "I like both, so it doesn't matter to me." Lyla shrugs, finishing up setting the table.

"I know you like both Ly, but I can see where Mike is coming from. But you have to be courteous. What if Kevin doesn't like his Kool-Aid all extra sweet the way we like it?" I look at Michael, before taking out the baked chicken from the oven.

"Yeah, I guess I see what you are saying." He sighs lowly, but he gets where I'm coming from. "Thank you, for seeing what I was saying." Chuckling, I place a quick peck to his cheek, just before going back to taking out my food items.

As I am turning off my yams and collard greens, I take a quick glance at my son, Michael. I cannot believe he's already 15 years old. It was just yesterday I was choosing a donor's sperm to inseminate. In which I chose the same exact sperm donor–Kevin– seeing that I liked the outcome I had with Lyla.

It's so amazingly weird and foreign how in today's time you can practically build your child in a way. I guess choosing Kevin was the best thing, because my children are so wonderful, intelligent, and just all around great kids.

"Mom do you want me to take out the salad from the refrigerator, or keep in until Kevin comes?" Lyla asks from behind me, not realizing she snapped me out of thinking. "Yeah, you can take it out. He'll be here shortly. He didn't want to miss this dinner."

It's true, he did not want to miss this dinner and official meeting between him and Michael. Even though they already have been talking via text messages. It has been on Kevin's mind ever since we scheduled a day to meet. He was booked with meetings all of two weeks ago, so we decided that this week would be okay to meet. Of course, with Mike's permission, seeing how he's not legally of age to meet Kevin yet.

When I explained to Kevin that Michael was not 18 yet, he wore a face of sadness and slight annoyance. It was then and there he pleaded with me over and over again, to ask Michael if he wanted to meet his sperm donor early. I knew my boy would want to, although I still asked him. He agreed, and I relayed the message to Kevin's office number. It was then he suggested we exchange our contact information... for the kids' sake. His words, not mine. I again agreed with him, until he began texting me randomly, to which I responded.

At first our text messages to one another were short and sweet; simply him asking about the children, and how my day was going. Then it took a turn once he "accidentally" sent me a picture of a very hard erection hidden in a pair of white Calvin Klein boxers. I couldn't do nothing but stare at that package he was definitely sporting. He of course apologized over and over again, and explained it was meant for "someone else".

I shrugged it off, and replied I should do the same. As soon as I sent that message, he fired back that I definitely should. Of course I didn't then... but within these two weeks going into three, I think he has seen more of my body than I ever showed a man before. We definitely went from zero to one hundred quick. His text messages are very raunchy, whereas mine are not that bad some of the time.

Oh, I totally failed to mention that he has some type of fantasy about wanting to bend me over his desk in his office, and have his way with me. He also never fails to mention it each time we text each other. The sexier thing of it all, is that he is a single just like me. I know I won't have sex with him so quick, but it is fun and enjoyable to have some type fun. Who would have thought I would be sexting a man almost on a daily basis?

There is firm knock at our front door, making me jolt back to reality. I clear my throat, and snap my fingers at my kids to get ready to be on their best behavior. Fluffing out my curls a bit, I take off my apron and make my way to the front door with nothing but nerves running throughout my body. I walk up to the door and unlock it, and pull it back to reveal Kevin.

Damn, this man is fine as can be.

"Hi, Latisha." He greets me in a husky voice, extending out his hand to hand over a bunch of red roses covered in the prettiest gold wrapping paper. "Oh, thank you, and hi." I shyly smile, taking the rose.

"The pleasures all mine." He smiles sexily, coming inside my home. "You didn't have to, but thank you anyway. Come on in the kitchen, there's most of food." I motion him to follow me.

I could feel his eyes on my behind with ever switch and sway I did as I walk towards the kitchen, and he made it known. He made little sounds of approval, he even got up close on me at one point, just to smell my neck. I definitely had to turn around to give him a warning look, he only chuckled and made his presence known as we walked in.

"Hi Michael, I'm Kevin Sterling." He extends his hand, to which Mike accepted it and shook his hand. "Wow, you're the dude who basically help give me life. Thanks, my man, I appreciate it." We all laugh at Mike's personality and take a seat at the squared table.

"So, how's the college hunting going for you, Lyla?" Kevin questions, just as he takes a spoonful of macaroni and places it in his mouth. "It's going good actually, I got accepted to lots of the community colleges here in New York, I also got accepted to Arizona State, Cal State University Northridge, and Sacramento State. Thank you so much for giving me a letter of recommendation!"

"It's not a problem at all, I'm glad to know you are pursuing higher education." He takes another spoonful of macaroni, making sure to lick the cheese off his pink lips.

Ooh, he has a big tongue.

"So, what about you Michael? What do you do in your spare time?" He looks at Michael patiently, but shifts a smirking face my way. My gosh! "Well, I'm on the varsity basketball team at my school." He smiles probably, making a fake shot with his hands.

"Hell yeah! I used to play basketball myself, I guess it runs in genes."

:::

"Okay, you guys please be good. I made sure to turn off the stove and the heat, so no fires won't be happening. If you get cold wrap up in a blanket, absolutely no heaters. I put Kevin's cell and work number on the fridge, and I also put Mrs. Mooney's number their too. Y'all remember her? She's our neighbor next door, so if you guys need anything–'' I am cut short, by Kevin pulling me out the door and telling the kids to have a great night.

I frown at him pulling us along the sidewalk, when I was giving out rules for my kids. I didn't even want to go out with him tonight, though he and my children practically begged for me to do so. Gosh, do I really need to go out that bad? I still frown a little bit, but it quickly disappears from my face once I feel Kevin's hand interlaced with my own. I look to him with a raised eyebrow, only getting a closed mouth smile, and a little shrug of his shoulders. He lets go of my hand once we are standing by an expensive looking car. From what I can see, it looks like a shiny black Rolls Royce. I look up to him and cock my head to the side, trying to figure out why we are standing here.

"Where is your car?" With my head still cocked to the side, I wait for him to answer me. "This is my car. I have good taste, don't I?" He looks to me with a cocky smirk, just as he opens up the passenger door and motions for me to get in.

"Yes, you do." I agree, moving to get into the passenger. "I sure do." I hear him say as I bend down to get in, feeling his stare on my behind again.

Once we both are in the car, and now driving on the road with jazz music softly playing in the background, I grow a little nervous. For the 20 or 30 minutes being in a enclosed space with Kevin, I have asked where we were going about a hundred times. He has refused relentlessly, and instead told me it was surprise. Oh, how I just hate surprises.

"Is it your house?" I dare to ask, hoping it is not. "No, it's not my home." He responds with a little chuckle.

"Where are we going?" I string my words out, watching how my surroundings become more expensive looking. "You know where we are going?" Kevin chuckles, keeping his gaze straight on the heavy traffic in front of us.

"No, I don't." I respond sure of myself.

"Yes, you do."

"Stop playing with me," I laugh, shoving him in his arm. "I'm serious where are we going, Mr. Sterling." I patiently wait for his response, getting a mischievous smirk in return.

"We are going to my office." As soon as he says those exact words, we turn into a high-end looking building complex, and go straight down into the parking structure. "What?" I smile in confusion, but I know exactly why we are here.

He doesn't answer me, instead he parks his fancy car in a spot that is dedicated to him and his position title. He takes off his seatbelt with ease, as he opens his door to get out, and quickly closes it back. I am startled by him opening up my door, but relax a little bit when I see him looking at me with those intense eyes of his. He bends down to unbuckle my seat belt, and then swiftly pulls me out of the car.

It all happens in such a blur. The two of us being down in the underground parking structure, to us riding the elevator up to the highest floor in this building, to the both of us walking through his huge, elaborate looking office. I couldn't help my mouth being nearly on the floor I I wanted to, I am in awe. He has an amazing view of the city, with his huge windows displaying the darkened sky lit up by all the New York lights. His office has a classy look to it, with brown being the color scheme of it all. The shiny, polished, wood flooring had to cost a lot of money to put down, but I can tell money didn't mean a thing when this office was put together. The interior design is so very nice.

"Wow." I whisper underneath my breath, feeling the heat of Kevin's body behind me. "You like it?" He whispers in my ear, placing a soft kiss there.

"Yes."

"That's good. Did you see the desk?" Within seconds I scope out the room and see his huge cherry wood desk sitting right smack in the middle of the office. There is a couple of things on it, but not too much. I then see a lone desk chair right behind it, just staring back at us.

"Do you remember what my fantasy was?" He breathes the words against my neck, lightly kissing there. "Yes."

"What was it, Tish? Tell me what it was?" He then encircles his big, strong arms around my waist. "You want to bend me over your desk in this office, and do very naughty things to me." I whisper out the words, all out of breath as my legs buckle a bit.

"True," He pulls me closer to him, making me feel the hardness of his erection pushing up against my booty. "But you constantly make it known you don't want us to have sex." The words he speaks are sharp, and straightforward.

I swallow loudly, surely, he probably heard it in my throat since he's kissing all over it. I feel us moving, though I do not pay any mind to it. I am way too busy feeling his lightly suckling movements on my neck. I close my eyes, and press my head farther back into his shoulder, loving him kissing and sucking on my neck the way he his.

He feels so good.

"And you say you don't want to have sex with me," he harshly sucks on neck. "I think you might have lied, Latisha. Did you lie to me, baby?" Both of his hands go up my shirt and squeeze my breast through my bra.

"Yes." My one-word answer seems to satisfy him, because he lets me go and pushes me forward.

Thinking I'm going to fall I close my eyes and brace myself with my hands, yet I never hit the ground. Instead my hands come in contact with the cold cherry wood of his desk. It was then that I realized he got me where he wanted me. It was then that I realize I couldn't resist him, just as much as he couldn't resist me.

"Do you want me to fuck you, Tish?" He grinds his hardened member into my back side. "Yes. I want you to set me straight and humble my attitude problem." I say all of this in a moan, repeating his past words to me.

"Hmm," He roughly shoves my new dress up my hips, making sure to slap both of my butt cheeks. "that can be arranged." Then within seconds my underwear are moved to the side, and all of his being is shoved into me.

I scream out loudly, not even sure if it was out of shock, pain, or maybe even both. I just know he's pounding into me like a hungry man. I can also tell we are going to be here for a long time.

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- Hello, lovely people! I certainly do hope you enjoyed this one shot!

- If you have any other one shot suggestions, just drop here. (:

- Alexis