Choose Me: a novella by Kim Golden Read Free Book Online

in such lush colors they reminded Chris of Fifties pin-ups. Even the models’ bodies were voluptuous and alluring, like the Marilyn Monroe centerfold from Playboy or the soft focus shots of Jayne Mansfield and Betty Paige that gave their naked bodies a luminosity so golden they were more like paintings than photographs.
    Chris froze. Had he heard her correctly? He turned a little to face her. Maybe if he took in the expression on her face he’d know how he should respond. But pregnant… Hadn’t they used condoms every time they were together? “Have you been to a doctor?”
    Her eyebrows scrunched together and a deep crease formed b etween them. “No. I bought a home pregnancy test so…” but she didn’t finish her sentence.
    She shrugged and picked up one of the rejected prints. The model depicted was Fergus’s wife. She’d insisted on being part of the portfolio despite how anachronistic she seemed compared to the other models. But Chris couldn’t look at her without reme mbering Thanksgiving and how she’d cornered him at the cigar club to which Fergus had dragged them. In the dimly-lit hall between the men’s and women’s lounges, she’d pulled Chris aside and, before he could respond properly, grabbed his hand and slid it inside the gaping opening of her dress. She pressed his hand against her small breasts and murmured, “I could make it so good for you. So much better than that little girl you’re so torn up over.”
    He’d pulled away, but not before she untied the small bow that held her dress closed and displayed her long white body to him. Her breasts, which FHM had once described as being like perfect dollops of cream were small and firm, her nipples deep pink and hard as beads. There were no traces of fat on her slender frame; she was as lean as a whippet. But what he remembered most was the perfect V of her crotch, and its startling absence of pubic hair. Then, she bit his lower lip, closed her dress shut and sauntered off, rolling her hips in such a calculated manner that he almost hated her. But for all that, he’d wanted her. His cock had gone hard at the sight of her and when she dragged his hand over her erect nipples, he’d wanted to lower his head to them and suck on them, savoring them as if they were rare wild strawberries.
    A flush of color rose in his face and neck. He took the rejected print from Jessica and tossed it in the pile with the rest of the r ejects.
    “Maybe you should do it now,” he said. They were watching each other, both assessing the situation and trying to decide what move ought to be next. “Then we’ll know what to do.”
    “What if I am pregnant?” She pushed her chair back. She stretched her denim-clad legs before her and tapped his foot with hers. “What would you want me to do?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “I couldn’t keep it.”
    “Then I guess we’d have to get an abortion.”
    “ I’d have to get an abortion, you mean.”
    “You’re not the only one affected by this.”
    “No. I’m just the only one who’d be a statistic: single black female with fucked up life.”
    “Oh for Christ’s sake are you going to pull the god damn race card again?”
    “Fuck you, Chris! It’s so easy for you—you could just walk away if I’m pregnant…”
    “Is that what you want? For me to prove you right so you can confirm for your friends what jerks we white boys are?” His voice escalated a notch higher than he’d expected. Why did she always have to turn everything back to the color of their skin? It wasn’t like either of them could do anything about it other than accept that they were different and move on.
    She flung herself out of the chair, grabbed her backpack and stormed towards the door. He didn’t move. He just sat there, trying to contain his anger as if it were nothing more than a morsel of food. For a moment he thought she was going to leave, and he didn’t want her to go. They hadn’t seen each other in two weeks and the more