John's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and anxiety as he watched Sarah and Mark process the news. The room felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken questions and emotions. He needed to talk to Sarah, to understand what this meant for their relationship, for their future.

The next morning, John found Sarah in the kitchen, her back to him as she brewed coffee. The scent of freshly ground beans filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of toast. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead.

"Sarah," he began, his voice steady but tinged with urgency. "We need to talk."

She turned to face him, her eyes red from crying, but there was a resolve in them that hadn't been there before. "I know," she replied softly. "I've been thinking about it all night."

John stepped closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reached out to touch her arm. "Are you sure you want to keep the baby?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah nodded, tears welling up in her eyes again. "Yes, John. This is my first child. I can't imagine not having this baby."

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "But... whose baby is it? I mean, we both know there's a chance it could be mine, or Mark's..."

Sarah looked down at her hands, which were clasped tightly together. "I don't know, John. We've been so... intimate with each other. There's no way to be sure."

John felt a wave of frustration wash over him. He couldn't remember the last time they had unprotected sex. The uncertainty gnawed at him, making him feel helpless and vulnerable. "We need to figure this out," he said firmly. "For the baby's sake, and for ours."

Sarah nodded, her eyes meeting his with a steely determination. "Agreed. But right now, all I know is that I want this baby, and I want us to be a family."

John's heart ached at the sincerity in her voice. He wanted that too, more than anything. But the uncertainty lingered, casting a shadow over their future. "Alright," he said slowly. "Let's make this work."

Days passed, and the tension between them remained palpable. John found himself constantly on edge, his mind racing with thoughts of the baby's paternity. He needed to take control, to reclaim some semblance of normalcy in their relationship.

One evening, after dinner, John led Sarah to their bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows on the walls. He closed the door behind them, locking it with a sense of finality.

Sarah looked at him, her eyes questioning. "John, what are you doing?"

He didn't answer immediately, instead walking over to the bed and sitting down. His gaze was intense, focused solely on her. "I need to make sure," he said quietly. "I need to know if there's a chance this baby could be mine."

Sarah's breath hitched, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anticipation. "What do you mean?"

John stood up, closing the distance between them. He cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs gently brushing away the tears that had begun to fall. "I want to make love to you, Sarah. Unprotected. I need to feel connected to you, to this baby."

She hesitated, her eyes searching his face for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all she saw was raw, desperate need. "Are you sure?" she whispered.

He nodded, his grip tightening slightly. "Yes. I need this. For us."

Sarah closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. When she opened them again, there was a newfound determination in her gaze. "Okay," she said softly. "Let's do this."

John kissed her then, a deep, passionate kiss that left them both breathless. His hands roamed over her body, feeling the softness of her skin, the curve of her hips. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume, mixed with the natural aroma of her arousal. It was intoxicating, driving him wild with desire.

He broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck, nipping gently at the sensitive skin. Sarah moaned softly, her hands gripping his shoulders for support. "John," she breathed, her voice trembling with emotion.

He moved lower, his tongue flicking out to taste the delicate flesh of her collarbone. She tasted sweet, like honey and salt, and he couldn't get enough. His hands slid under her shirt, lifting it over her head and tossing it aside. Her bra followed, leaving her breasts bare and heaving with each breath...

Full Chapter 2 posted here on RQ