Bad Boy's Baby Part 57

Nothing else mattered except the absolute filling of his c.o.c.k. How I stretched. How I made room for the only man who ever stirred me to such a quick pa.s.sion.

My hips bounced. Zach groaned.

I was lost.

His hard, pulsing thickness overwhelmed me. I rose up only to sink back down as quickly and deeply as I could. I clutched at his shoulders and collapsed upon the solid definition of his chest. He held me just as tightly. Rocked his hips to meet mine. Moaned the same words. Breathed the same panting relief.

I had denied him for too long, knowing full well exactly how it would end and how wrong it was and how much heartache it could create.

But now? Just for a moment-just for a perfect few minutes of beautiful agony, satisfaction, and comfort-I'd take him.

I forgot that he was my step-brother. I ignored the inheritance and will. I even remembered the day he first approached me. He admitted to realizing who I was only once he buried inside me, but who in their right mind would stop?

No one ever desired me that much. No one ever admitted to such attraction, such pa.s.sion.

And I never felt the same for anyone else.

All I wanted was a quick romp, another mistake to regret in the morning.

I ground against him. Forced him deeper. Cried out his name. This was more than a mistake. I had no idea if I'd ever regret it.

My motions slowed. Zach refused to stop. He stood without pulling from me, balancing my weight against his waist and easily carrying me, completely impaled on his length. I gripped him tighter. He grinned, moving my hips in a feat of strength that nearly made me explode right then and there.

But he growled. It wasn't enough for him.

Zach tossed me onto the couch, grabbed my ankles, and spread my legs. I hardly had time to whimper before his thickness sliced inside me once more. He leaned over my body, letting my hand run over the bulging muscles in his arms, chest. He sunk against me, stealing a kiss as he thrusted as deeply as he could stuff his c.o.c.k.

Again and again he took me, bringing me to a brink of utter intensity. His thrusts slammed through me, and I eagerly arched to offer him more. My breath panted his name.

"Shay...come with me."

The greatest words anyone ever spoke to me. I didn't have to nod, think, or act. I was already there, coasting that fine line between pleasure and insanity. I gripped him, held him, welcomed him as he jerked his hips.

One solid pound was all he needed.

All I needed.

We broke together in a blended, perfect ecstasy. His kiss m.u.f.fled my words, and that was good. I had no idea what I would say if he had let me speak, let me think the words, let me feel not only what stretched and pleasured and filled, but what warmed deeper in me.

I gripped his shoulders and pressed him harder against me. His c.o.c.k wasn't enough. His tongue circled mine. I crested with him over me, holding me, inside of me in ways only he could fill. My heart surged. My muscles rent.

And nothing so perfect had ever layered me in such bliss.

It was as though a gentle curtain of serenity pulled over us. Sound faded. The lights dimmed. And everything that teased me amplified into such crippling pleasure I nearly wept against his hardened body.

Zach held me close, guiding me through the s.h.i.+vers, murmuring his own words that I couldn't hear even if I wanted.

Anything we said to each other would reveal too much. Such a raw and uncompromising pa.s.sion exposed everything.

And so we laid in a quiet peace.

Rested in the others' arms.

And d.a.m.ned the consequences for another time.

A time that would come all too soon.

Chapter Thirteen Zach.

My vision haloed, blurred, then went black.

I dropped the barbell. It crashed into the carpet. Didn't shatter the cement beneath, but I couldn't be sure.

I couldn't see. Anything. At all.

"f.u.c.k." I groped for a towel. "d.a.m.n it!"

The rough terrycloth brushed my fingers. I gripped it in a shaking fist and ground the towel against my face. Didn't do s.h.i.+t, but I pressed hard against my eye sockets. It hurt almost as much as the f.u.c.king headache. At least my eyes were still there.

Christ, this was bad.

f.u.c.king bad.

"Son of a b.i.t.c.h!" I pitched the towel across the room. I didn't know where it landed. Didn't care.

The migraines sucked, but this was something else. s.h.i.+tty luck and s.h.i.+ttier timing. I blinked hard. That helped. Another rub to my eyes, and the nothing s.h.i.+fted into grainy shadows. At least I wouldn't fall on my a.s.s trying to get to the bench with my stuff.

I downed half of my water. The rest dunked over my head. I was probably overheated or some s.h.i.+t. I pushed myself hard. No doubt I f.u.c.ked something up lifting too much weight. I acted like a jacka.s.s.

My vision slowly returned. No need to b.i.t.c.h like a baby. At least the men in the squad weren't around to witness such a weak-a.s.s moment. I'd never hear the end of it.

Christ.

I could bluff a guy holding a four pair with just an ace high in my own hand, but I couldn't fool myself. h.e.l.l, maybe it wasn't worth fooling myself.

I imagined that something was still f.u.c.ked in my head from the accident. But I wasn't ready to face what happened after I confessed it to a doctor. I could either go in for help, or I'd d.a.m.n my future chances at getting back to my squad.

All my training, the recovery, and the strengthening would mean f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t then. Twenty-four years old wasn't the time to visit the VFW and collect my pension.

Son of a b.i.t.c.h.

My vision cleared. I could see enough of the machines and barbells to make it out of the gym. My headache disappeared the instant I hit the hall.

That worried me more than my faded sight. I could lie to a doctor if I had double-vision. And I'd get corrective surgery if the recurring blurriness was my body bulls.h.i.+tting me into nearsightedness. A headache like that was harder to hide.

By the time I reached the stairs, everything was normal. No pain. Not even a haze or fog clouding my sight. It was like nothing happened. Like I was perfectly fine. I used to argue nothing was wrong with me. No one believed me during physical therapy.

f.u.c.k. Now I didn't believe myself.

I wasn't the type of man who took easy days. If I had it my way, all my workouts would focus on legs. I'd exhaust myself with exercise if it meant I'd get back to my job, where I could punish the real a.s.sholes. I'd destroy my body to protect my friends, family, and country. That was the meaning of sacrifice, and I'd give every part of me.

If the SEALs would take it.

But if I had another episode even half that bad and they found out? I wouldn't be able to convince a child I was fit to serve. That'd be a problem.

A big f.u.c.king problem.

Headaches weren't the worst of it. I still tried to rationalize last week, when I had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I wasn't tired, and it was only the left eye, but my eyelid just...drooped.

It went away in a few minutes, but h.e.l.l if I knew what that meant. Googling my random symptoms would only self-diagnose me with headaches and testicular cancer.

The doctors warned head injuries had a long recovery. We knew this. I expected it. Any complication was just a b.u.mp in the road back to the service. And if they got too big? I'd forge my own d.a.m.n path. Use those parachuting skills for something besides trapping my a.s.s in hostile territory.

I ran a shower, leaving the water cold. No sense overheating myself, especially when I stripped from a sweaty s.h.i.+rt and pants made sweatier in the moment of ball-clenching terror when my vision faded.

The water felt good. Not pool good, but it was a d.a.m.n paradise compared to one minute showers of recycled rainwater in the field. The waterfall showerhead delivered a good spray. I pressed my hands into the wall and let the shower cascade over me until the tension rolled from my shoulders.

I knew a much better way to de-stress. It didn't include a shower, but it was done naked. Again and again, just like my night with Shay in the theater. I took her four pulse-thumping, spine-shattering, ball-draining times.

But, by morning, she was gone.

I expected nothing less, but I hoped for something more. The words she said, the way she looked at me? d.a.m.n. Our cupid didn't use arrows. He packed shotgun sh.e.l.ls, and they stung a f.u.c.k-ton more than pixy dust when fired point blank.

Shay had a rough day, one she hadn't planned on sharing with me. But she'd let me hold her. She dropped her guard and talked to me, revealed her innermost fears and dreams. I wasn't used to being the emotional support for anyone-especially a woman. I'd firebomb the a.s.shole professor who was given the power to crush her so completely, but that would get her a warrant, not a degree.

Shay needed someone to talk to. Even though she lived in a mansion and inherited more money than she could spend, her ambition in life was to help others. She wanted to work with kids, hold their hands when times got tough.

And they f.u.c.ked her over.

I saw enough of that in my line of work. Good men, innocent people, got punished. I enlisted to stop those injustices. If I could help when I was overseas then nothing would stop me from protecting her at home.

Except she didn't believe I was sincere. Shay shared her desires, but she didn't stay long enough to figure out what happened next.

I didn't want it to be another one night mistake. None of that bulls.h.i.+t where we fooled around in the dark to avoid our gazes in the light.

I told her I wanted a chance.

I proved I could take care of her body. Next up was her heart. I'd get that too. I wasn't about to lose a girl that d.a.m.ned special.

And beautiful.

s.e.xy.

Pa.s.sionate.

The things that girl could do with her lips, her body, her tightness. I salivated at the memory-too raunchy to waste during peacetime. Those memories were best saved for those oh-s.h.i.+t moments in the field when I needed a reason to stay alive and return to the s.e.xy piece of a.s.s waiting at home.

I ran my hand over my abs and lower. The water warmed me enough. I gripped my c.o.c.k and pumped.

Nothing.

Another tug.

Nothing.

"Jesus, what the f.u.c.k?" I stared between my legs.

There it was. My namesake. A constant source of pride. Still impressive but lacking that certain spark that made it G.o.dly.

f.u.c.k. I winced.

The headache was back.

What the h.e.l.l was wrong with me?

I shut off the water and wrapped a towel over my waist. The mirror had no answers. Everything looked normal. Bags under my eyes, but that was expected after a night of s.e.x and the swelling headache.

I had woken up with a headache the past three nights in a row. Hadn't let myself think about it. Bottom line. It was happening more often.

I had two options. Ignore it and lay down until it went away...or I could take a chance and find Shay.

I was tempted to ask what she thought. I needed to explain this s.h.i.+t to her anyway.

She deserved to know that my military leave wasn't as temporary as I let her believe.

Except that would p.i.s.s her off. I'd replace the headache with her foot up my a.s.s as she kicked me from the house.

Lay down and suffer alone or suffer in the arms of a beautiful woman?

Well, one of us had to make the first move after our night. I tugged on a pair of pants and searched for her in the usual s.p.a.ces-kitchen, theater, library. She wasn't hiding where I could find her easily, which meant she holed up in her room, the sanctuary where I promised I wouldn't encroach.

But I spent the night buried to the hilt in the most beautiful woman in the world. That much pleasure earned a momentary right to trespa.s.s. But I was still a gentleman. I knocked before twisting the k.n.o.b.

Shay wore a pretty little camisole, but she pulled her blouse over her shoulders and b.u.t.toned it before I got close enough to see anything good.

She tried not to look at me, but she loved my muscles as much as I loved her curves. Helpless to resist, stupid to refuse. The motto served me well for years.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey."

Shay busied herself with her makeup and applied a layer of lip gloss over her full lips-lips which had tugged over my c.o.c.k, parted with pleasure, and softened with my kiss.