Page 89 of Size King

He exclaims, moaning loudly and growling like an animal. We keep whispering sweet nothings into each other’s ears, fucking each other harder and reaching the edge of pleasure. He grabs onto my ass, I slide down his shaft once more, and together, we climax and tremble against each other.

Suddenly,I am no longer in the mountain forest having hot sex with Mason. I am in my bed, naked and alone.

“What the fuck,” I say, grumbling.

Even though it is indeed a dream that I am waking up from, it felt real. Once I accept that I’m awake and the mind-blowing sex isn’t really happening, I grow frustrated and annoyed. I hate that I am still dreaming about him. He makes appearances in my dreams often, despite not seeing or speaking to each other in over three weeks.

I am groggy all morning, leading up to that afternoon when I have to get ready for work. My managers want to talk with me about the upcoming months, and I’m not sure what all is going on. I’m not sure if we’ll be taking pictures or discussing business, so I dress for both.

I get in my Lyft, still feeling off and perturbed from my dream. It feels like harsh punishment to keep having Mason in my dreams without having him in person. It hurts because in reality, I realize that another day has gone by where I haven’t heard from him. He isn’t talking to me, and I’m not talking to him. I feel sure that he doesn’t want me and that I will be caring for our child on my own—a mother to a child, just a random chick that got pregnant to an absent baby-daddy.

Emma calls me on my way to the studio.

“Hey,” I answer.

“Honey, you better get in here now,” Emma says with urgency.

“I’m on my way. What’s up?”

“Vivian and Trish both came up to me and asked about you being pregnant,” says Emma. “They know.”

My heart sinks. “How do they know?”

“I’m not sure how they found out,” she says. “They didn’t talk to you about it?”

“Nope,” I reply, becoming more nervous by the second.

“If Vivian and Trish know, then probablyallthe managers at K-Plus know,” says Emma. “You’ll need to tell them once you get in. There’s no point in hiding it anymore.”

I spend the rest of my long ride to work worrying myself sick. I become more agitated the longer I sit in the back of the Lyft, cursing at the unnaturally slow traffic. It is a Sunday afternoon, and downtown feels like Monday rush hour with some major delays on the side.

As my Lyft pulls up to the front of the building, I see Emma standing outside waiting for me. I leap from the car and make haste.

“Hold up,” Emma says, halting me.

“I thought you said I needed to get to work as soon as I could?”

“I want to talk to you a minute first before you go in,” she says.

I glance inside the building, noticing two managers standing near the stairs, glancing down at their phones and looking at us in their peripheral vision.

“How did they find out?” I ask.

“I’m not sure how they figured it out—or who told them—but don’t freak out, all right? Just relax first before you go in and face them. Stay strong and confident like you’ve been the past month and a half.”

“I’m trying,” I say anxiously.

“How’s the baby?” Emma asks.

“What are you talking about? I’m not due for another seven months.”

“You know what I mean. How areyoudoing with the baby? Are you hurting at all today?”

“Not really,” I say. “I’m sore, but I’m sore every day lately.”

“Have you called Mason and ended your freeze yet?”

My heart skips a beat when hearing his name. “No.”