ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance) (14 page)

“And I can’t have a kid!” He stood up. She had sat down in the meantime and was now looking up at him. He was getting angry, but she wasn’t afraid. The opposite in fact. The energy he was exploding with was turning her on. Her own frustration was doubling back on her at the same time and bringing her back to what she was feeling walking down those stairs, turning around to see him lock the door right before she pounced on him.

They stared at one another for a few beats, and the frustration in his grey eyes ignited her. He drove her wild. All she could think about was the bar bathroom. What would he be like in a proper bed?

She noticed he wasn’t watching her face any more, instead he drank in her body.

“You’re beautiful when you get pissed off,” he said. “I think you get more beautiful when I get pissed off.

She flung herself at him, and their mouths came together like clashing warhorses.

All the time she’d spent trying not to think of him, pushing him from her mind, focusing instead on her work. He’d been there, under the surface, simmering.

She loved the feel of his hands on her back through her sweater.

He stopped kissing her long enough to say “I can’t stop thinking about you. Every day I wanted to call.”

“I’m sorry,” she panted back.

His hard body pressed against hers through his t-shirt, she could feel every ridge of his muscles, the tightness there. A man who didn’t know how to relax, always on edge.

Now his hands found their way underneath her sweater, running along her skin.

Before in the bathroom, the sex satisfied an animal part of her, only the physical. Today his caresses stroked her emotions, made her feel adored and beautiful.

He kissed her neck, her exposed collarbone. Ran his fingers up and down her spine.

Breathless, they pulled apart remembering the life changing argument they were just having, but then they crashed back into each other. In between fighting tongues and groping kisses they continued on with the argument breathing heavily through every word.

“You’re really going to have it?”

She nodded. “I have to. Not because I’m against abortion.” How much to tell him? He’d been in her body, but not her heart. In her mind, but not in deep, the special place for love.

But a part of him grew inside her.

She touched her stomach, and he followed her lead, placing a large, strong hand on the little bump of her sweater.

“I was married,” she said. It was hard to say. Hard to describe. Hard to say those words out loud. It shouldn’t have been in the past tense, dammit. He never should have left her alone. “I loved him more than anything. I’ll always love him. He was—we were highschool sweethearts.”

James stiffened a bit. He didn’t take his hand from her stomach, but she could see the tightness in his shoulders.

So she spat out the hard part. “He died.”

James was kissing her neck as she said these words and he slowed the workings of his lips.

A bit of her hated how he released a bit of the tension.

“He was in the war.”

Since Devon’s death, Randi worked very hard as an advocate for veterans, PTSD, and mental illness. She vowed never to sugarcoat what happened to him.

“He died at home.”

James kept kissing her listening to every word she was saying.

She expected James to ask where he’d been wounded, or stop the rushing momentum their bodies were moving at, but neither of them could stop. She knew he got it though, and she’d come this far. She had to finish the story.

James lifted her sweater over her head started moving his kisses down to her swollen breasts.

“I tried so hard when he came back from Afghanistan. I did everything they told me to do. Tried to keep things calm. I took leave from my job. But he came back to me broken. He left a piece of his heart over there. He tried. God knows he tried. And there were some good days. Ones where I felt like he was really back. But it was borrowed time.”

She could say all this without crying. She’d spoken first at support groups, then to groups of families of survivors. She’d shared her story a lot in the past three years, but there was something releasing inside of her in that moment. Saying these words were bringing the feelings she had calloused herself to long ago to be able to go on with day to day life, not really living, like Devon himself had done when he got back from Afghanistan. It wasn’t right that James kept kissing her like he was while she was unburdening herself, but neither of them wanted the other to stop doing what they were doing. Something had fired between them and this fire was purging both their souls as it consumed their bodies with desire.

“We always had guns in the house. My work. His being a soldier. In his note he told me it wasn’t my fault. He said he did it to let me go. So I could have a life. Like he was some kind of lead weight and I was chained to him.”

James suddenly stopped, took her hand and squeezed it. His other hand stayed a warm weight on her stomach.

“I can’t know how you feel, but I know how he felt. I’m a veteran.”

“I know. I can’t say how I knew but I feel like I could tell from the first time I met you.” She went on, telling him the part she didn’t always tell the groups. “He tried to be so considerate. Put plastic down before he did it. Less of a mess to clean up.” The doctor told her it was instant, but she’d seen a lot of gunshot wounds, and she didn’t believe him. Devon did it right after she left for work on a Friday morning, and who knew how long he lay there before she got home at nine.

She’d gone for a drink with girlfriends. She knew he’d been having a rough week and she went anyway. Every week was a rough week.

“It’s a cheap platitude,” James said, “but it’s not your fault. Nothing you could have done. He was so lucky to have you. I was lucky to have survived what he went through.”

It felt like cheating to sink into James’ arms. Not cheating in an adultery sense, but in the sense that the world was giving her her another shot. The deep intimate pleasure of a man’s company had not been allowed to her after Devon. He held her until she tipped her lips up to his and they kissed again. He caressed her face.

“What are we going to do?” he asked.

James’ head spun. Randi curled against him, feeling so small but strong in his arms. Randi and a baby. He couldn’t. He literally couldn’t bring a child into this world. But he’d seen it in her green eyes. She wasn’t going to give it up.

He also couldn’t sign off on paperwork and never see either of them again. He too was not to have been given another shot at living fully. The scar tissue that had formed over those parts of him that left him vulnerable to love and life were starting to soften and heal. He had relegated his life to be only about paying for his mistakes and living selfishly to not let any more wounds happen to him, now the possibility of love was in his arms and cupped in his hand inside the belly of Randi.

He breathed in the smell of her hair, a honeysuckle scent he hadn’t noticed in the bar bathroom. James let his fingers run through the silky blonde strands and she reacted like a pleased cat. He wanted her very, very badly. In his arms, her eyes dropped closed, and her head dropped to his chest. Her breathing evened out. Asleep on him. Like telling him all that stuff about her ex-husband had just released her from a huge weight.

He scanned his combined living/dining room. Before she came he’d thrown all the plans for the banks into his spare room. Shut down the big wall of computers, made sure they were password protected. She could never know what he did.

He thought of the family he was providing for. What would they do without his continued support? How would the family live free and happy if their benefactor melted away? He couldn’t live this life though and be present with his real family though, and even when he went clean, he knew he’d have to leave the city. Leave the continent more like it. Need to change his name again. It would be expensive, and now disappearing would be disappearing from his child’s life. And how could Randi come with him? Living in this city was living on borrowed time, and he only had only planned for enough time to set himself up and then disappear forever.

Her cell jangled, ringing and buzzing in her bag, jolting her awake. She blinked at him, shook her head to clear it, and answered.

James heard a man’s voice. Randi sat up, wiped carefully at her eyes so as not to dislodge her make up, and muttered an assent. “I’ll be right there.”

She stood up, and James reached for her hand. “Come back tonight?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be done.”

“I don’t care. I’ll let the doorman know you’ll be coming, and he can see you up. I’m a light sleeper.”

She chewed her lip, the wheels turning. “All right.” Then she turned, pulled her coat out of the hall closet, slid into her sensible boots, and left.

Once she was gone, James took a moment to breathe in the scent of her. His whole plan hinged on the next few days. A flurry of a final few scores before disappearing forever. He hated it when things didn’t go according to plan, and Randi had definitely thrown a wrench into his plans.  He had another score tomorrow though, and there was no backing out of this one now.

He was headed into First Consolidated Bank with two other guys, right around lunchtime with the highest number of people there. Just like that day he ran into Randi, the shoppers would make it easy to slip away. James new every alley and hiding place for five blocks with props and changes of clothes hidden in more places than either of the other two guys knew. He had scoped out the guards and the tellers enough to know that none of them were likely to try and be heroes. So many months of planning went into all of this.

He had his prosthetics ready to disguise his face, a baggy costume to make himself appear bigger than he was when he went in and was on security cameras. He glanced at his watch. No way to back out, nothing to do but be prepared to do the job. Not being ready would get him caught. It was time for a quick Skype call with the other two to go over the rules.

He reminded them of the last heist he was on. A guy shot and a guy in jail. No drama. In, out, pass your note to your teller:

Be still and don’t be afraid. I have a gun.

All the money you have within reach of you in the bag.

I will hurt you, but I don’t need to.

Stay quiet and calm.

Once I leave the bank, count to 30 and then call the police.

Quickly let them see the gun if you need to, but never enough to tip off anyone else to what was going on. Once they left the bank, they’d disperse, then regroup at the warehouse. Easy as pie.

The two other members of his team, Skywalker and Calrissian (James took the name Solo for himself), were pros, and they got it. This was job that James could do himself, he had done something like this many times before, the other two guys made it more possible to hit the teller with the most cash on hand though. It increased the risk including two others, James knew now better than ever, but the plan was for grab as many scores as possible to get him where he needed to and get out of this game as quick as possible. Before the banks trained their security guards and built systems into place to fight against James’ strategy. The increased risk was worth the reward when he constructed the plan. Now he wasn’t so sure.

He ended the call, checked a third time to be sure he’d prepped everything for the day. Then he put all of his paraphernalia in his safe, and locked the door. In the safe he had jewels and stacks upon stack of hundred dollar bills. He did another scan of the apartment to make sure he hadn’t left out anything a detective would notice. The idea of her hunting him and not knowing it made him sick inside, but what else could he do. It wasn’t planned. He didn’t choose to love her, but he knew that he did. He didn’t choose to be a father, but he knew he was going to be.

Damn, he needed to push the idea out of his head. There was a baby involved. Another life.

The doorman buzzed and James knew it would be Randi, coming back. He’d been afraid she wouldn’t.

When the elevator doors rolled open she stood before him, seeming so small. He was immediately right back where he was before she left. He didn’t know what he was going to do, but he knew that he wanted her. He scooped her in his arms, and carried her to his bedroom.

She laughed. “My shoes! My coat!”

“Who cares.”

He pulled her boots off first, then helped her out of the coat as she lost herself in his king sized bed, enfolded in silk sheets. One whole wall of his bedroom was window, and it looked out over the snowy city.

He unwrapped her like a late Christmas present. Helped her out of her slacks, sliding them over her hips and down her legs. She might be short, but her proportions were exquisite. She hadn’t chosen her underwear intending to be undressed, and the simple white bikini cut panties made him crazier than the black thong she’d worn last time he’d seen her.

He undid her blouse one button at a time, letting his warm fingers gently touch the skin underneath. Her splendid breasts greeted him, barely contained in a plain white bra. He’d not noticed a dragon tattoo on her hip before.

He leaned back to admire her. Something wasn’t quite right, her hair was still bound in a professional bun. He reached up and unpinned it, let it shake down over her bare shoulders.

Where to start? He wanted to devour her, admire her, have her all at the same time. His eyes were drawn to the slightest roundness in her stomach. His baby.

Wow.

So he started there. Gentle kisses on her slight bump, then working his way down. He breathed on her mound through the soft cotton cloth and her whole body shivered. He nibbled gently through the panties feeling the material grow damp, then wet. She became aroused so fast, was so receptive to his touch.

“Stop teasing.” Her voice was hoarse. He slid the panties aside, and dipped a finger inside her. She arched her back. He pulled the underwear all the way off, and pleasured her with his fingers. Working his hand, he climbed back up to where he could kiss her. She writhed against him to the point he mostly held himself still and let herself move the way she needed. He let her go for a bit and let his thumb find her clit, and the gentle friction pushed her over the edge to a twisting, panting orgasm.

She flopped back onto his bed and he let her rest for a moment. She took a moment to regroup, and when her green eyes fluttered open, she said “You’re dressed. That’s not fair.”

“Undress me.”

She did.

Still shaking from what he’d done with his hand, she yanked off his shirt, and slid his sweats off. He knelt before her and she was met by his huge, bobbing erection. Commando. Hot. She took him in her mouth as deep as she could manage. She didn’t realize how much she’d missed the act of pleasuring a man as she watched James lean forward to grab the big oak headboard. All his muscles coiled tight, and she ran her nails up and down his chiseled torso. His breathing escalated, and his hips started to buck, spilling himself into her mouth with a sharp hiss of breath.

“You’re amazing.”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

They swaddled themselves in the silken sheets, her wrapped tightly in his arms.

“So how are you feeling?” He broke the companionable silence.

“Good. Great.”

“I mean up here.” He touched her head, brushing blonde hair away from her eyes.

“I’ll take it a day at a time, I guess.”

He nodded. “And how are you feeling, physically. With the baby I mean. Like…morning sickness? Anything like that?”

“No, not yet. I saw my sister-in-law, and she has a bunch of kids, and I said I was tired, and the milk in my latte didn’t taste right, and she just knew. So I peed on a stick.”

“Haven’t been to see a doc yet?”

“Not yet. I only found out today.” She glanced at the clock. “Yesterday.” It was late. She needed to get some rest. She had to go in at seven the next morning. New case, this one an attempted murder on the west side of town. Stay? Go?

Better play it safe.

“I should go.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nah, I have to work early and—”

“Stay with me.”

She wanted to. God, she wanted to. But…

But what?

Nothing waited for her at home except Devon’s photograph. And she wasn’t sure she could see it right now.

“Please.”

She glanced again at the clock. Almost one. If she took a cab, she could be home in 40 minutes or so, then she’d have to shower, to get into bed…

His dark purple silk sheets looked terribly inviting.

He looked terribly inviting.

What could it hurt? She was already knocked up. She was emotionally entangled with this man, no matter what. She’d already fallen asleep in his arms once tonight.

“Okay,” she said. “I have to be at the station at 7. Sharp.”

“No problem. I’ll drive you.”

He found her a long t-shirt and some boxer shorts. Set her up with a toothbrush, and directed her to the bathroom.

*              *              *

She awoke before him in the dark, the blue glow of his clock bathing the room in cold light. He looked so peaceful, finally at rest. His muscular chest rose and fell. He stirred in his sleep, and moved the sheet down, and she could see once again his manhood stood at full attention.

“Must be a nice dream,” she thought.

She leaned in gently and took him in her mouth, lapping at his shaft, teasing and sucking the head. He moaned, and his hips started moving in time with her cadence. When she gazed up at him, his eyes were open and he watched her, smirking at her as she worked him. She raised her head and smiled at him.

“Hell of a way to wake up.” He reached down, and as though she weighed nothing he lifted her to straddle him. Already wet from the excitement of pleasing him, she sank onto him with a happy gasp.

He reached for her ample breasts, gentle with them. He must have remembered her saying they were sore.

She rode him until they both came, shivering and crying out in unison. Then he led her to the shower, a cavern with multiple shower heads and colored LEDs.

“You’re kidding.”

“You first.”

She let him set the temperature and then she stepped inside. She’d never been in anything like it. Never showered with someone where it wasn’t a chilly competition for the good spot. She soaped him, and it made him hard again, so he had her up against the wall, wet warmth all around them. By the time she dressed for work, she felt pleasantly sore, exhausted, and relaxed.

In the precinct, she scurried to her desk, avoiding eye contact. Chris was there already though, coffee and doughnuts in hand. She looked Randi up and down. “Same guy or different guy?”

“What are you talking about?” She couldn’t even say it with a straight face.

Chris narrowed her eyes like an overprotective sister.

“Same guy. Chris, sit down.”

“I already need to sit down. You’ve been out with a guy twice. What happened to your newly aquired taste for bathroom sex?”

Dramatically, Chris sat, munching on her donut eyeing her inquisitively.

She closed the office door.

“Do you have a boyfriend? Is it that serious?”

“Chris, I’m pregnant.”