Chapter Three

Around two hours later I was finally alone back in the one-bedroom apartment I’d been given six months ago when I’d moved to Windy City. I curled up on the low sofa. The media screen hung on the wall, but I wasn’t paying much attention to news of the day’s Breeding Ceremonies across the nation. I’d been there in the flesh.
Instead, my gaze wandered around the generous apartment. It had everything I could possibly want, including a stocked kitchen, refilled every Friday, and a great big shower. At first I’d laughed when I’d seen the shower. I was used to dormitory public shower stalls. The overly large tiled enclosure had seemed ridiculous to me at first. Now, I was happy about the size. It was large enough for two.
Any minute now Ethan would be done with his camera interviews and escorted to my apartment where we’d be locked away for the next month. It was everything I’d dreamed about, and nothing I’d ever imagined. At fourteen, the best I’d hoped for was forming a platonic partnership with Ethan and maybe doing some kissing. Getting my period had changed everything. Ethan and I had known there’d be no future once I became a Breeder. I’d given up on us, but he’d obviously never given up on me. He’d done what he’d had to, to make sure he’d have a shot at being one of the twelve lucky men.
I’d grown used to living on my own. The first month had been lonely. After living in a dorm room with at least five other girls my whole life, being thrust into an apartment solo had been daunting. Even when given my own room at school, there still hadn’t been privacy at meal times or the bathroom. I’d grown used to my privacy. Too used to it, for now I’d have to share it. First with Ethan, then possibly another man.
There was a knock at the door. I rose to grab it, but the door swung open before I could get there. Ethan stood in the doorway flanked by two large armed guards. We stared at each other but didn’t smile. “They gave me a key,” he said. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“No.” I shook my head. “Of course.” I stepped back and waved a hand. “Come in.” My mouth couldn’t seem to form any more words, and my gaze was locked on him.
He stepped fully into the apartment, shutting the door on the guards behind him. A black backpack was slung over his shoulder. I assumed it held his necessities. “Nice place,” he said, striding over to the large window and gazing out over the rest of the city.
“It is,” I agreed. “It’s a bit quiet, but I’m getting used to that.” We clung to the conventions of small talk. He was obviously feeling as awkward as I was. Nowadays, most people lived with a select group of people after they graduated from being Schoolers to Workers. I’d always assumed I would do the same. I couldn’t imagine living totally alone. A few of my friends had found men at their jobs and formed companionship contracts. It wasn’t exactly like marriages in the olden days, since they couldn’t have sex or have babies, but I guessed it was pretty similar. I’d hoped to form one with Ethan, and now here he was, but the expectations were different.
“How...” I started to ask and gained the courage to walk over to stand next to him. I felt unaccountably shy, which was funny given that we’d already had sex and used to be friends.
He turned to me and caught my gaze. “I think I know what you want to ask. You want to know how this happened? How did I become a candidate?”
I nodded.
He turned away from his position at the window back to me. “I loved you, Jane. Did you think I’d just let that go?”
“We were children. I never dared to dream you could be a candidate.”
A frown crossed his handsome face, starting to shadow with bruises. “Why not? You didn’t think I was strong enough?”
I put a hand on his upper arm. “I was fourteen, and I didn’t let myself dream of you being a candidate. It would’ve led to heartbreak if you didn’t make it.”
Ethan abruptly dropped his backpack at his feet with a thud and turned to face me. I shivered at the feel of his large hand on my bare shoulder. “I’m glad I didn’t break your heart.”
He was staring down at me with an intense look that I couldn’t interpret.
“I think I owe you something,” he said.
I was hyperaware of his nearness. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“Yes, I do.” His voice was deep and rough. “I believe I owe you an orgasm.”
My lips parted and I stumbled over to the low sofa, losing his touch. “That’s not...it’s...”
“Yes. Let me.” He stalked to me, and I could see how he’d gone from a teenage farm apprentice to a candidate in six years.
“Are you still a farmer?” I blurted with all the subtlety of a dog asking for scraps from the table.
He’d been about to sink to the plush patterned carpet, but stopped mid-squat. His eyes narrowed. “I’m now the manager of a food farm on the edge of the city.”
I was impressed. Managers, especially at a food farm, had to be strong and smart. Maybe a little ruthless too in order to achieve that level. His knees hit the carpet and he leaned over me, hands wrapping around my ankles. “Let me touch you. Please.”
I was feeling unaccountably shy, especially considering that earlier that day, I’d been naked and fucked for the whole world to see. Yet now, alone in my—our—apartment, I was flushing and nervous. “Shouldn’t we talk first, you know, get to know each other?”
“We already know each other, but I will never force you.” His hands pulled back to rest on his strong thighs and he stared at me, barely blinking. “But know this.”
I couldn’t move my gaze off his serious face.
“I will be the man to get you pregnant. I want you for always.”
“You—you do?”
“I made up my mind the minute you left the kitchen six years ago.”
“Made up your mind to do what?” I asked. His hand was pressed into the cushion of the couch, and I laid my palm on it. His skin was warm and tan from days out in the sun on his farm.
“I made up my mind to win you,” he answered calmly, as if it were the easiest thing in the world to win a Breeder.
My heart raced a little at his words. “What are you talking about? You can’t simply make up your mind to win the Breeder. Every man wants to win the Breeder. It doesn’t mean they can.”
“I did.”
“How?” I asked, my question ringing out like a bullet. Inside, I was thrilled. I hadn’t been alone in my feelings of love. He’d wanted a future too and had done everything in his power to make it happen.
“First I studied all the past winners. I read through the history books and watched old news clips trying to see what the men had in common.”
“What did you find?” I turned toward him, for at this point, he’d moved to sit next to me on the couch. My knees angled in his direction, and my side rested against the back of the couch.
He smiled thoughtfully. “It was funny, really, because it was so easy. I couldn’t believe I was the first to figure it out.”
“What?” My head leaned forward, dying to know what he’d learned.
“Out of the last fifty years of winners, fifteen of them have worked in food farming.”
I fell back against the cushions. “Really? That many?”
He nodded, pretending not to hear my sarcasm. “Think about it. Given the sheer number of career choices, there should’ve been fifty different careers for fifty different winners, but there weren’t. The greatest percentage worked in farming.”
He did make a good point now that I thought about it.
“I switched career directions the next day. I’d been planning on being an investor. Even though I was apprenticed to a farmer, I’d planned on leaving the minute I was eighteen.”
A desk job. I eyed the muscles bulging from the thin shirt covering his torso. It was obvious he worked out in the sun doing tough labor.
“I knew if I were to be chosen as a candidate, I had to rise to the top of my industry and make my farm stand out.”
“But...”
“The fighting part came next,” he continued as if I hadn’t interrupted. “I made a point to employ former military personnel who could train me in hand-to-hand combat. It turned out to be a good match for all parties.”
“I can’t believe you did all that for me,” I finally managed, stunned he’d made a career out of trying to win me.
His look penetrated deep to my soul. He reached for his backpack, riffled through it and pulled out a wrinkled sheet of paper. “Did you think I was going to let you go after this?”
My breath caught as I recognized the last letter I’d written to him six years ago. I’d managed to sneak it into the kitchen early one delivery morning, but I’d never known if Ethan had ever received it “My note,” I whispered.
“Your note.” His beautiful lips were a straight line.
My nipples tightened as Ethan’s gaze intensified. “I made up my mind six years ago to win you, and now I’ve done it. I’m not going to let you go. Ever,” he said.
The silence between us had weight and depth. It was shocking that he’d made it his life’s goal to win me. But then he was close enough I could smell the soap on his skin and it didn’t matter anymore. What mattered was that he had won me and was here with me now. His lips found mine and soon we were sprawled on the couch kissing as if there were no tomorrow. I remembered there might be only thirty tomorrows and I tightened my grip on his wide shoulders.
It was easy to believe this man had tackled an impossible goal. He surveyed me now as if I were the next mountain he had to tackle. He didn’t yet realize that my body was attuned to his and I’d been hyperaware of him the moment he’d vaulted onstage as the winner. No. I’d been aware of him the moment he’d first entered my school kitchen with an armful of produce, before I’d understood what it was to sexually desire a man.
Our tongues rubbed against each other with no agenda at first, and then he took it to a new level. He explored my mouth with a thoroughness I hadn’t imagined. His taste in my mouth was addictive. My breasts pushed against his chest. I wasn’t wearing a bra, but my shirt felt constricting. I wanted it off. I pushed at Ethan’s chest. He backed off a little, giving me space to tug off my top. The look in his eyes was worth it. To him I was the most beautiful woman in the world, and I remembered that he’d always considered me that way, even before I became a Breeder and desirable to adult males around the world.
Every schoolgirl dream I’d had of living in a sexless partnership with Ethan melted away as the reality of having him sank into my pores. After forcing him out of my dreams, he’d exploded back into my every hope. He wanted me forever, and the same held true for me. Unfortunately, the only way to make that happen was to get pregnant. I knew I’d have to offer myself to him whenever and wherever he wanted. No problem.
The antsy, needy feelings he’d aroused in me onstage were back, this time with a more powerful pull. Without the cameras and everything to be nervous about, I could focus on the way my body felt, and especially how it felt pressed against his.
He was huge in comparison. His length took up the whole couch. I felt petite and weak against his strength. I loved it. After six years of being the biggest and strongest person in the room, it was a revelation to feel physically helpless. My body was at his mercy. If he knew it, he didn’t show it. Not at first.
“Take off your shirt,” I said. “I want to feel your chest.” I didn’t think he heard me as he continued licking and focusing on my breasts. After a minute he sat back and tugged off his shirt. He had my full attention. I studied every inch of skin and muscle, taking note of how his body differed from mine.
“Oh no,” I said, rubbing a gentle finger over the skin on his broad shoulder, spotted purple as if an artist had taken red and blue watercolors to his skin. “You’re injured.”
He kissed me lazily as if we had years together, not a month. I knew in his mind, we had a future together. If he’d made winning me his goal and accomplished it, what was to stop him from assuming he’d impregnate me as easily? I wasn’t as sure, but I couldn’t let myself dwell on what could go wrong. I had him here for the next thirty days, and I intended to enjoy every second.
He refocused entirely on my chest with an intensity that would’ve frightened me if it hadn’t felt so good. I arched and moaned at the wicked things his tongue did to my nipples and the sensitive skin below.
“I’m fine,” he said shortly. “Is that why you’re staring at me?”
“No.” I sat on my knees, reaching a daring hand to stroke from his shoulder over his nipple down to his abdominal muscles. “I love looking at you. Your body is so different than mine.”
His muscles seemed to ripple to life under my hand. “I’m male,” he said. “You’re female, and a mature female at that.”
“I didn’t realize,” I said quietly.
“What?” he asked. “What didn’t you realize?”
“That you’d look like this. You’re so hard.”
“That’s for damn sure,” he muttered.
My gaze flew up to question him. “What do you mean?”
He gestured to his waist, where I could see the outline of his penis against the soft trousers he wore.
I stared. “I want to see it. Now.”
Ethan set a new record for removing pants. When he made to climb back onto the sofa next to me, I stopped him. “No, please stand in front of me. I want to look at you.” A hint of pink washed over his cheeks, but he tolerated my curiosity and stood like a stone sculpture allowing me to study every inch of him.
He was a magnificent example of a man. He was tall with broad shoulders that narrowed at his hips moving to long legs. Dark wiry hair covered his legs and a small patch was also on his chest. “You have hair there too.” I poked a finger into the nest of hair surrounding his penis, which pointed out at me.
He groaned.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” My voice was breathless to my own ears. I glanced quickly at his face then back down to his penis. It was this appendage I was most interested in as it was the body part most dissimilar to my own.
“You’re killing me,” he said, but there was a smile on his face. “Go ahead, you can touch me. And then later I’m going to do the same to you.”
I shivered at the thought of standing naked for Ethan’s eyes. Would he like what he saw the way I loved what I was seeing? I couldn’t get enough of looking at his body and wondering what it felt like. He wanted me to touch him. I poked a finger at his penis and giggled as it bobbed sideways then back to center.
“Jane,” he said in a warning voice. “Like this.” His large hand wrapped around the thick shaft and he gave it a stroke. I watched in fascination as it appeared to get even harder. “You do it,” he said. “I’ve handled it enough to last the rest of my life. It’s your turn now.”
He didn’t need to ask me twice. I pushed his hand away and replaced it with my own. His skin was warm and silky and slid under my palm as I squeezed and rubbed. I tried every combination of touching I could imagine, feeling like a true scientist, yet fully aware of the aching in my own body. My lower belly was jumpy and heavy. The place between my thighs dampened. For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were his harsh breaths and my little mews of discovery.
Suddenly he stepped back, pulling away from my reach.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m close to coming. I don’t want to do it in your hand.”
I dropped the offending hand quickly, remembering we had a limited time together. Quickly, I moved back to the couch and spread my thighs, welcoming him.
“Not yet.” He shook his head and moved to kneel on the floor in front of me. “I owe you that orgasm. You may have fooled the audience, but you didn’t fool me. I know you didn’t have an orgasm onstage.” Before I could respond, he bent his head to give me a kiss I’d only seen in research. His tongue moved through the curls of my vagina, finding my slick and swollen clitoris.
I moaned at the first touch of his tongue, stunned at the sensation. I’d seen videos of this act, of course, but had no way to experiment with such a thing. Ethan’s large hands slid under my butt and pulled me closer to his mouth, allowing me little wiggle room. Believe me, I wasn’t trying to go anywhere. My arousal spiraled out of control.
When he added a finger to the work of his tongue, I grabbed fistfuls of sofa cushion, uncaring that my nails could tear the fabric apart. Every bit of my body focused on the space between my legs and the pleasure Ethan was giving me. “Oh, oh, I’m close.” My words were tiny fireworks exploding from my lips.
For a horrible second, his tongue and fingers disappeared, leaving me cold and needy. In a glorious return, his large body hovered over me, his warmth heating me, his chest pushing me back against the couch. I felt him begin to fill me. Slowly at first, then one hard thrust and I could feel his tight stomach pressed against my clitoris.
My eyes closed against the wonder of it all. He didn’t let me retreat. Our mouths clashed in a kiss as his hips flexed and he withdrew from me then slammed back home. I met him every inch of the way, squeezing my inner muscles against his hard shaft.
We didn’t speak. Our bodies and minds were fully occupied siphoning every bit of pleasure we could from each other. There were other sounds. The rasp and gasp for breath as our hearts raced, the slide of damp skin, and the muffled protest of the sofa cushion under our writhing bodies.
I was getting closer to orgasm, and this time I wasn’t letting it go. Subtly I shifted my hips to better receive his body and have him hit me at exactly the correct angle.
“Come for me,” he growled against my lips, pulling away from the kiss and lowering his head to gently bite my nipple.
“Harder,” I said on a moan, not sure whether I wanted him to bite me harder or pound into me harder. He did both. I broke apart, digging my nails into the skin on his shoulders. He grunted, but I was beyond caring that I was pressing his battered body. I could only focus on my orgasm, which was suddenly as necessary to my life as breathing.
I’d had other orgasms. This was different. It was more than a mild rippling of pleasure between my legs. This was a full-scale explosion starting at my core and echoing out every nerve ending in my body. I turned my head to the side and screamed into the pillow. I couldn’t take it, it was too much. The pleasure was overwhelming and it was ending.
Ethan’s hips kept thrusting, delivering more and more until he grunted, gave a final thrust and collapsed on top of me. I cradled him between my legs, hooking my ankles around his back. My hands went to his head, tangling in his dark short hair. His rough cheek rested against my chest. A giggle escaped as his tongue darted out to tease my nipple followed by his whole mouth suckling my breast.
The movement reminded me that infants used to be fed from a woman’s breast. If we were successful, I would learn how it felt to have a baby at my breast. “Do you think we did it?” I asked.
He didn’t reply, and kept attending to my breast. I tugged at his hair.
“Ow.” He lifted his head off my chest slightly to frown at me. “Did we do what?”
“Make a baby?”
He shrugged and climbed onto the sofa, casually lifting me out of his way to take the bottom. He maneuvered me easily until he stretched the entire length of the cushions, and I was curled against him on top. I liked it. I’d never snuggled with anyone before, especially not naked. I wondered where he’d learned to do such a thing. “Are you in a companionship contract?” I asked, suddenly feeling an unfamiliar emotion. Fear? No, jealousy.
It was a ridiculous thing to feel, especially considering I had to protect my heart against falling in love with any of the candidates. If Ethan failed there’d be another taking his place in thirty days, then possibly another and another. I settled down when he said, “No.”
“Why not? Did you meet other women on your delivery runs? Weren’t there women working at your farm?”
“There are plenty of women working at my farm, but I was working for you, remember?” He tweaked my nose and settled back against the cushions.
I allowed myself to relax against him again. “I can’t believe you did it. Did you ever dream your name would be picked? I never dreamed.” I had so many questions for him and wanted to talk.
He groaned. “Jane, I know you’ve had limited contact with men before, so let me teach you something. When a man fights eleven men, has sex for the first time in front of the world and then has sex a second time, he needs to rest.” He softened his words by smiling at me. “You had a big day too. Aren’t you tired?”
Now that he mentioned it, I realized I was. I hadn’t slept well the night before, but I couldn’t quite relax enough yet to sleep. I propped my chin on my hands and watched him as his eyes closed and his lips relaxed into a slightly open position. I gave a quiet voice command for the lights to dim and noticed for the first time the sun had gone down outside our apartment. I watched him drift to sleep for a long time then carefully got off him and went hunting for a blanket. I found one in a closet off the bathroom. I covered him and snuggled into his side to sleep.