Inconceivable Read online

  Inconceivable

  KT Morrison

  Contents

  About the Author

  Also by KT Morrison

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Afterword

  Other Books by KT Morrison

  About the Author

  KT Morrison writes stories about women who fall in love with sexy men who aren’t their husband, and loving relationships that go too far—couples who open a mysterious door, then struggle to get it closed as trouble pushes through the threshold.

  Visit My Website!

  ktmorrison.com

  Also by KT Morrison

  SERIES

  Landlord

  Maggie

  Obsessed

  The Cayman Proxy

  Happy Endings

  Separate Schools

  EPIC NOVELS

  Cherry Blossoms

  Learning Lessons

  NOVELS

  Going A Little Too Far

  Pool Party

  Après Ski

  NOVELLAS

  Watching Natalie Cheat

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  Models on cover are meant for illustrative purposes only.

  INCONCEIVABLE

  First Edition. November 5, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 KT Morrison

  Written by KT Morrison

  Cover by KT Morrison

  1

  It was raining when the Ottobot arrived out front of the Kaapo-Gerhardt Fertility Center. Sean flashed his ApplePay to the dancing cartoon taxi driver on the automated vehicle’s touchpad, and it gave him a big wink and a thumb’s up.

  Carly had been nervous and scattered all morning but Sean had remembered the umbrella and he held it for her outside the cab’s door. He escorted her, hand in hand up the blank concrete steps and past the glass and black steel doors of the clinic.

  In the foyer, he jerked the umbrella’s chrome runner mechanism back and forth, shaking the wet off the black nylon and Carly shook her hair out. There was a plain-faced receptionist who watched them from behind her acrylic barrier, and she smiled when Sean smiled. They approached the desk and told her they had an appointment. The receptionist told them they were to go to the examination room first, and that was in the western wing on the third floor. With a smile and the press of a button on her console, the acrylic divider between them illuminated with a map, a red line drawn to illustrate their path from the reception to the examination room.

  “Don’t be nervous, Carly,” he told her as they rode the escalator and he held her hand still. “I’m going to be with you every step of the way.”

  “I know,” she said and gave him a weak but earnest smile.

  When it was their turn, a tall Persian nurse in gray nurse’s scrubs and matching niqab waved to them from next to the reception desk, under the square-arched entrance to a corridor that led to the exam rooms. Sean helped his wife to stand, and they worked their way between the low tables and the knees of the other waiting married partners. Giving each of them a nod, they received one in return; everyone smiling with nervous apprehension.

  They joined the nurse who held a tablet against her bosom, and she bowed her head as they drew near, turning then and leading them down the hall. It was quiet except for the sound of their heels on the glossy concrete floors. Metal doors lined both sides of the corridor, leading to separate private exam rooms. The nurse took them to the end, on the right-hand side, and opened the door for them, let them pass.

  Sean let Carly ahead of them, and when they were all in the room the nurse said, “There’s a gown for you on that coat hook,” indicating a dove gray hospital gown in the corner. “If you’d like to disrobe, the technician will be in shortly.”

  The room was small with tiled mossy green walls and a polished stone floor. Against one wall there was a hospital bed with stirrups, the back angled for the patient to recline. Next to it was a tall stool; left of the hospital bed was a metal tray-table on rubber wheels and on the table various black-faced pieces of medical equipment with flashing lights. At the top was a large monitor, though it was in screen saver mode now, folding and closing geometric patterns while in between patients. A holster slung the side of the table, a ceramic wand slid into it.

  Carly quietly said to the nurse, “Yes, thank you. I’ll get prepared.”

  Sean asked, “I’d like to stay if that’s allowed.”

  The nurse paused, hand on the doorknob, said, “Yes, we encourage that.” Then she closed the door.

  Sean said to Carly, “I want to stay. Is it all right if I stay with you?”

  Carly was taking her sweater off and she said, “Yes, Sean. I want you here with me. I want you with me every step of the way.”

  He felt relief at that, the situation strange and exciting and he didn’t know how much involvement he was entitled to. But he knew that when it came to the birth of his baby, he wanted to be there every step of the way.

  Carly was unbuttoning her shirt now and Sean folded her sweater, placed it on a metal stand at the foot of the bed. When she had the shirt off he said, “You want help with that?” indicating her bra.

  “Yes, please,” she whispered, turning her back to him and playing with her hair, chin tucked low.

  He unhooked her bra and ran it off her shoulders. She covered herself and he unzipped her skirt from behind as well. Shirt hung on the coat rack, he brought down the medical gown for her. When he turned she had made it out of the skirt and leggings, standing there now only in her panties, an arm crossed over her chest.

  “Here,” he said, and held the gown out so she could walk forward into it, putting her arms up and through the sleeves and he closed it around her back tying it loosely at her waist.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He kissed her forehead and held her for a moment as she was putting her hands under the gown, slipping her panties down her legs, stepping out of them. Sean stooped to retrieve them then tucked them underneath her neatly folded sweater.

  They stood staring at each other, uncomfortably. This was a huge and incredible day. All their paperwork had passed. They’d jumped through every hoop presented. They were allowed to procreate.

  He held a hand out and said, “You need help to get up there?”

  “Okay,” she said, gave him her hand.

  He led her to the bed, she climbed up, swiveling, legs held together and her heels coming down to rest between the stirrups. She crossed her hands over her knees.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he said, and put a hand over one of hers.

  She said, “My heart is beating a thousand miles an hour right now, Sean.”

  “Don’t worry, Carly, every—”

  The door opened behind them, a technician coming in wearing a lab coat, head down, reading something on a thin LCD tablet. “Okay, okay,” he hummed as he continued to read their file. “Carly and Sean York … Exciting day, is it?” he said, showing them a big mechanical smile, tucking the tablet under his arm.

  “It really is,” both of them said together but out of sync, then grinning at each other warmly.

  Sean reached out a hand to the technician who shook it, then Carly’s. He said, “It’s good to meet you. I’m Gonzalez, your health technician. Let’s get you on your way, do what we need to do here, th
en you can go up and see Dr. Chang.”

  As he fired up the machine, the geometric patterns washed away to reveal a display divided in segments for a camera input and graphic readouts. They were all blank at the moment with no data to convey.

  Gonzalez was a little older than them, perhaps in his mid-thirties; he wore a gray nurse’s smock under the lab coat. A tattoo of a Marines anchor on the back of his right hand peeked below his sleeve. He was well-groomed and handsome despite the peppering at his temples. He snapped on latex gloves and went to the foot of the table. He rested his hands on Carly’s knees and said, “Carly, would you put your heels in the stirrups for me, please?”

  “Okay,” she said, and with her knees pressed together, she angled her feet into the stainless steel hoops at the foot of the bed.

  “Sean, you can take a seat at the side of the bed,” Gonzalez said, “and hold your wife’s hand if you like.”

  “Yes, I’d like that,” he said and moved to the tall chair at the opposite side of the bed, putting his butt in it, elbows across the bed’s rail, and he held Carly’s left hand in both of his.

  Gonzales removed the wand from the holster and held it out, took a small dropper of clear liquid and raised the wand to point upright. It was shaped much like a penis, with its rounded globe on the end. It was white, enamel, and it looked rather large. From the dropper, Gonzalez squeezed five or six drops of a clear gel that then dribbled down the sides of the wand. He said, “Today’s the big day?”

  Carly said, “Yes,” her voice a tiny whisper.

  He put the dropper back on the table, and with his latex fingers stroked the gel up and down the shaft of his device. He said, “Today you pick your donor?”

  Sean said, “We do.”

  “That is exciting,” Gonzales said, eyes still watching the wand.

  Now he regarded the readouts on the screen, gauging Carly’s heart rate and pulse, some of the other squares flickering to life now as he put feedback stickers on her arm. He moved aside the gown to bare her waist and Carly’s skin went to goose bumps. Three of the circular stickers were placed in a triangle vectored around her navel.

  He watched the screen again. “You’re looking good,” he said then moved to the foot of the table, put one hand on her knee and said, “Could you, please…?”

  Carly’s knees parted slowly, exposing her bare sex to Gonzalez who watched with blank expression. Carly’s fingertips pinched into the back of Sean’s hand with her rising tension.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered to her.

  Gonzalez smiled, withdrew the wand again to show it to her. He said, “Carly, this wand is going to give me a lot of information that we’re going to need in order for you to conceive. I’m going to insert it now, and it may be a little uncomfortable at first.”

  A soft whisper from Carly: “Okay…”

  “It’s not that similar to what it’s anatomically based on,” he joked, “but it’s large enough to expand your canal and that’s how we get the feedback we need to read for the assessment.”

  “I’m ready,” she said.

  Sean leaned forward and watched as Gonzalez worked the large bulbous end of the wand against her mound, her pink lips separating to accommodate it. When he inserted it, she grunted.

  “That’s all right,” he hummed softly, “you’re doing very good…”

  It was pushed into her further, Gonzalez’s eyes moving from Carly’s spreading sex and up to the screen.

  Sean looked away. He whispered to her, “Are you okay?”

  “It’s a little uncomfortable…”

  “Look there,” Gonzalez said, smile spreading. On the screen there was a dazzling array of feedback. Inserted deep inside her, the wand was providing information; oscillating parallelograms and wave signs, the big camera screen showing them the high-definition view of her pink interior.

  Carly seemed to relax now, mesmerized by the data being shown. “What does it all mean?” she asked.

  “It means you are very healthy. And you’re going to make a great baby.”

  Carly bit her lip and almost sobbed with sudden joy.

  More data clicked on the screen and Gonzalez interpreted for them. “Yes, your insemination will be between the 15th and the 16th, that’s… Anywhere starting eight days from now. And other than that, Mrs. York, everything is in tip-top shape. You’re a healthy young woman and more than ready to conceive.” With that as punctuation, he clicked off the wand, and the screen went blank; he slowly withdrew it from her and as it came free, she brought her knees together and made a soft hiss.

  “That’s all right,” Gonzalez said put a hand between her thighs; his fingers massaged her labia. “That’s all right, you did great,” he said.

  He took a paper towel and cleaned her while Sean held her hand. Latex gloves snapped off, he tossed them into the trash and hung up the wand. He said, “You can go out to the east wing now and meet with Dr. Chang. All the data I’ve retrieved here will be available to her, and you two can get this show on the road. I think two weeks from now you are going to be a pregnant young woman.”

  Carly lay her other hand over top of Sean’s, he overtopped that one; all of their hands laying over top of one another.

  He said, “You hear that?…”

  She pursed her lips and leaned to him. They kissed.

  2

  They walked the halls of the expansive clinic, crossing the cavernous lobby and finding Dr. Chang’s office in the eastern wing. Their first visit to the famous Dr. Emily Chang had been at her office in the suburbs, and it was there they’d been selected to attend this prestigious clinic. This was their first visit here.

  After fifteen anxious minutes of waiting in her office, a nurse followed on the heels of a happy young couple who exited embracing and smiling. Before they had even left, the nurse was reading her tablet and calling out, “Mr. and Mrs. York?”

  Sean helped Carly to stand again, and they were escorted to see Dr. Chang who sat at her desk, a slab of steel with monitors, awards on the shelves behind her. She had a view east toward the city, beyond a smoky glass window on the far side of the room. She was looking at the results of Carly’s exam, nodding and smiling as though she liked what she saw.

  Before they’d even sat, she said, “You ought to be very proud of yourself. Your genetics are Citizen C, but it’s obvious you live a healthy lifestyle. You could easily be ranked Citizen B or maybe even an A.”

  Carly beamed, taking that enormous compliment from somebody so prestigious with great charm. “Thank you,” she said. “We both watch what we eat and we exercise.”

  The doctor swiveled her monitor away from her and folded her fingers together, leaned on her desk. She said, “Now, Sean, I remember from the office visit, you’re a Citizen G2.”

  He said, “Right. Extenuating circumstances. I’ve been cleared to procreate, I was awarded a license with Carly, but I want…” He turned in his chair to hold Carly’s hand, “We want the best for our baby.”

  “That’s very noble,” Dr. Chang said. “And an incredibly wise decision. Now, we just have to go through some of the bureaucratic end of this…”

  She swiveled the monitor around to face them and said, “Sean, I need you to make a statement to the camera.”

  Sean saw his own face there, green dots dancing over his eyes where the camera was recording his retina. She said, “Just touch the screen for me there with your thumb.” In the bottom corner of the display was a black square with a flashing arrow. He pressed his thumb to it and it registered his print.

  He said, “Okay.”

  “Please read the information on the screen out loud and then agree, if you do, and when you’re done, please sign the bottom.”

  Sean leaned forward and straightened the monitor so his face was square within the frame. Carly put a hand on his back and rubbed it in circles while he read:

  “I, Sean York, of sound mind, am stating that we are entering with the clinic an agreement to provide fertility ser
vices. Both of us have been cleared for procreation, Carly York received her license three months ago, SG-101795 and I did as well on the same date, GK-591107, Subsection A. I am choosing to engage in the Many Stars Genetic Program offered by The Administration. And I do so willingly and with great care. I am selecting, in co-operation with my wife, a donor with properly matched genetics alternate and complementary to my wife’s.”

  When he was done, he moved the pen from the bottom tray below the monitor and scrawled his signature below his own face. He tapped the screen.

  “And there we are,” Dr. Chang said. “You’re making a wonderful decision. Many Stars is a noble cause. I know it comes with many incentives the young family might want—”

  Sean said, “It’s not just the financial supplement. The incentives are for our child. And I believe the decision is for the good of our nation.”

  Dr. Chang smiled, fingers weaving together under her chin. “Well said.”

  The monitor was angled now for both of them to peruse the screen, and Carly had inched her chair closer. They were shoulder to shoulder while Dr. Chang watched them from the other side of the desk.

  “How about this one, Sean? Look at his education.”

  Sean said, “Yes, he looks good. Harvard. Click on his picture.”

  Carly tapped on the man’s name and a portrait swooped up so they could see him.

  Carly said, “He has a good facial structure.”

  “He does,” Sean agreed, then said, “go on to the next one.”

  They went on like that for a few minutes, each swipe of Carly’s finger bringing them the profile of another potential donor. Dr. Chang said she had twenty-one candidates that were excellent matches for Carly’s genetics, describing the possible donors as puzzle pieces. They would have shapes that would match Carly’s cutouts, and together they would make a whole. She’d seen Sean’s worried expression, said, “And you, Sean, are part of the big picture as well. You are your own important piece.”