Internet Stud

A woman looking to conceive a child turns to a well-known "internet stud," meeting him in a hotel when he happens to be passing through her city for a weekend. A weekend that just happens to coincide with her fertile period. But she's about to find that baby-making is a lot hotter than she ever imagined...

Excerpt:
It wasn’t too late to back out of this, I told myself, even as I stepped into the lobby of a hotel whose room rates I would never be able to afford.

It wasn’t like this was a date.

It was just a guy I’d met on the internet. A guy who didn’t even know my real name.

Yet.

I opened the last email I had received from ‘Ryder.’ No idea if that was his real name, either, but considering what I did know of him, it sounded more like a very convenient pseudonym. One that hinted at what he was good at.

And I wasn’t thinking of bicycles or horses for him to ride, either.

The message was short. Stating that he would be waiting for me in the restaurant on the third floor at seven p.m.

There was also a photo. Of what he was wearing.

An impeccably tailored suit with a blue tie. And a white rose tucked into a buttonhole.

White. The color of purity. Of innocence.

Such a contrast to why I was meeting him.

There was just a hint of his face, the line of a strong jaw covered in, not stubble, but what appeared to be a well-trimmed beard. Hardly enough for him to be identified by, yet more than most of his other ‘online fans’ ever got to see of him.

Ryder wasn’t famous in the usual sense. His specialty was in turning women on through his words. Through his stories on a blog. And he offered something more, something that could be asked for. And received if the circumstances were right.

He claimed to be a stud. A guy who would have unprotected sex with a woman, any woman, during her fertile time. No strings attached. Preferably with a woman who was otherwise claimed. He’d said that he had at least five kids who were being raised by other men, who believed that they were the fathers.

He was the kind of guy that I had no business meeting up with.

Except for the overly loud ticking of my biological clock, of course.

I could still back out. I could do this another way. In the doctor’s office, with an anonymous donor picked out of a book. It was the way my sister had conceived her only child.

Not that our parents knew the truth. They thought that she’d just had the misfortune of being abandoned by the baby’s father. If they’d realized that the child had not been conceived in any sort of relationship at all…