Everything was in place. It was the right time of month for her and the scene was set. Her ‘quarry’ so to speak was in the net. All she had to do was reel him in and get what she needed, hopefully as many times as possible. She felt hot and bothered just thinking about what she was planning. She firmly tamped down her feelings of guilt. She was after all using Jason as an unknowing donor, but she had wanted a baby for so long, and she hated the thought of conceiving in a glass dish, without knowing at all what the father was like.
Certainly she didn’t want said father cluttering up her life, nor the baby’s life, not with her crazy relationship with her own father as a blueprint. The few disastrous relationships she had, had firmly cemented her opinion that her mother was absolutely right, men could not be trusted. She had shied away from involvements, downplaying her looks and had immersed herself in her work. There had not been a man in her life for a long time, and she had no desire to be involved anyway.
She shoved her unpleasant memories into the little corner of her mind she had allotted them, and determinedly set about getting ready for her big night.
Emma was having a full blown panic attack. It was five forty five, and she was as ready as she could be, freshly bathed, creamed, perfumed and made up. Her dress, if it could be called a dress was a mere slip of slinky black silk. The front was deceptively modest with a high neckline, but the shimmering fabric clung lovingly to her luscious curves. Tiny capped sleeves caressed her upper arms, and thin spaghetti straps criss- crossed down her bare back ending at the base of her narrow waist, with a pair of naughty beaded tassels that literally begged to be pulled open. Thankfully it wasn’t super short, and came down almost to her knees in softly flowing fabric. Her feet were encased in strappy rhinestone studded black sandals.
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