by Lane Hart
“No, probably not,” I say and start to walk away before turning back to him. “Have you ever had a woman…get sick after blowing you?” Even saying the word blow reminds me of how damn cute and innocent Kira was trying to get me off. Before she got sick.
“Ah, yeah. It happens,” Torin responds with a shrug when he goes back to his stack of papers.
“Seriously?” I ask. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”
“Do you think I would say shit ever to spare your feelings?” he grumbles without glancing up.
“No.”
“Then trust me when I say it happens. Not often, but it does,” he replies before a grin spreads across his face. “When Lexi was pregnant with Kenzi, she tossed her cookies almost every time we fooled around. It was so awful that I even begged her to wait a few weeks, but she was so horny that it wasn’t an option either. We had to start fucking in the bathroom so she could barf right after we finished.”
“Really? You made Lexi sick?”
“No, asshole. It was the pregnancy, morning sickness that happened all day. I even asked the doctor about it, and he said some women do that shit for whatever reason after sex. Thankfully it stopped in the second trimester. I was starting to worry that it was me repulsing her, but it turns out it was just the hormones or whatever those first few weeks.”
While I stand there staring at Torin without blinking and trying to let that information sink in, I’m pretty sure all the blood drains from my face because I start to feel a little dizzy.
“Did you knock someone up?” Torin snaps when he glances back up at me.
“I don’t know,” I mutter before I turn around and leave, needing some time to think this through.
Could Kira be pregnant? Am I gonna be a fucking father?
We were only together that one time!
Was she with someone else before we got married? If so, I’ll put a bullet in that son of a bitch!
Kira
After I clean up the embarrassing mess I made, I call my mom to let her know I’m getting ready to leave. The sooner I leave this place to escape the humiliation, the better.
My mom doesn’t answer at home or at the warehouse, so I try her cell phone.
“Hello,” my mother’s voice answers, and I know right away that something is wrong. She sounds stuffy, like she has a cold, or she’s been crying.
“Mom, are you okay?” I ask.
“Kira,” she says with a sniffle. “It’s your father…”
“Oh, god. What happened?” I ask as my chest tightens with worry.
“Zeno –” she starts.
“Zeno? Why is Zeno bothering him? You paid him all the money back weeks ago!”
“Kozlov sent him back last night, wanted him to find out where we got so much money so fast!” she explains. “And your father feels so awful, but he couldn’t take anymore!”
“Anymore what? What happened, Mom?”
“They kept hitting him! His face is a mess, and he won’t let me take him to the hospital!”
“Jesus, Mom! I’m on my way!” I tell her.
“No! Don’t come here. We’re leaving. It’s not safe to stay!”
“Then where are you going? I’ll meet you there,” I assure her.
“You need to warn Miles,” she says. “They could be coming for him. Both of you need to get out of town!”
“Miles? What do you mean?”
“Your father gave them his name as the source of the money. It was the only way he could stay alive!”
“Oh, my god,” I mutter in understanding. The Russians beat my father to find out how he came up with all the money he owed them so fast without selling the house. They must have thought he was skimming off of them or had more earnings they didn’t know about. If he told them Miles paid half a million to marry me, they’ll think he’s an easy target to shake down for more money.
I know Miles can take care of himself, but not against a group of armed thugs!
“I need to pack,” my mom tells me. “I’ll call you when we’re someplace safe. You do the same.”
“Okay,” I agree. “I love you. Tell Daddy I’m sorry and I love him too.”
“We love you, Kira. Stay safe,” she says in a rush before the line goes dead.
I slump down onto the sofa with the phone still in my hand, trying to decide what to do.
Miles is probably so angry at me from earlier that he’ll go ballistic when I tell him about the Russians.
But I need to tell him the truth and get out of town like my mother suggested.
I just hope he’ll listen to me and forgive me.
Chapter Twenty
Miles
I’m surprised to see Kira’s car is still in the driveway when I pull up on my bike. I thought she would be long gone by now, so it’s a relief to see that she didn’t bolt.
Now I just have to figure out how to ask her if she could be pregnant, and if so, who the fuck is the father.
As soon as I walk in the door, she jumps up from the sofa and swipes her fingers under her eyes.
Great. She’s been crying again.
Not only do I make her sick, I make her sad. I can’t figure out which is worse.
“Kira, we need to talk,” I say, leaning my back against the closed front door and crossing my arms over my chest.
“Yes, we do,” she says. “I’m so, so sorry about this morning, but I’m even more sorry about dragging you into my parents’ mess!”
Her arms are hugging herself tightly, and it’s obvious from five feet away that she’s also shaking.
“Hold on. What?” I ask, pushing off the door to go to her.
“They hurt my dad and-and made him tell them your name! I need to go see him, but my mom said I should stay away. I don’t know what to do!”
“Calm down and start from the beginning,” I instruct.
I go over and sit on one end of the sofa, also known as her bed, hoping she’ll follow. She does, taking a seat on the other end, pulling up her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.
“Okay, so my dad owed a man a lot of money,” she starts. The words hits me like a brick wall out of nowhere.
“That’s why you needed half a million!” I exclaim in disbelief. “You married me to pay off your father’s debt?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I mutter as I pinch the top of my nose where a massive headache is starting.
This woman gave up her life to marry me just to save her father, and now she’s knocked up with my kid, or someone else’s. I thought she wanted the money for herself, but it’s been weeks and she’s only bought the shit I make her, like food and supplies for the dog.
“It’s fine, I didn’t mind helping him,” she says.
“Giving up your life for a strange man to settle your dad’s debt is not fucking fine,” I tell her. “How could he even ask you do to that?”
“It is fine. And he didn’t ask me. I did it without them knowing because I love my parents. I would do anything for them,” Kira replies, which is pretty damn admirable even though what she did is a little insane. “But then after all the money was paid, they came back wanting to know where my father made that much money so fast. My mom said his face is-is messed up from where they hit him over and over until he told them everything, about the wedding, the money and…you.”
“Your old man okay?” I ask, throwing my arm over the back of the sofa when the stupid appendage tries to reach out and touch her, to soothe her. Haven’t I learned anything after this morning? She doesn’t want me. She only married me out of an obligation to her folks, not to try and make things work with me as my wife.
“Yes, he’s going to be okay. But you may not be! If Zeno shows up here looking for easy money, he won’t take no for an answer!”
Holy shit.
Is she worried about me?
Or is she worried she could get caught in the middle?
“I won’t let them hurt yo
u,” I assure her. “That’s a fucking promise.”
“These men are…rough. And dangerous. Zeno won’t be alone, so it’ll be you against several of them!”
“I can take care of myself,” I assure her. “Everything is going to be fine.”
“You don’t understand,” she says with a shake of her head. “I know you can take on one or even two or three, but these guys carry guns! We should probably leave…”
“I have guns too, and I can fucking guarantee you that I’m a better shot than they are,” I explain. When her blue eyes still look skeptical, I tell her, “Years ago, I was a Scout Sniper for the Marines.”
“You were in the military?” Kira asks, brows raising with interest as she rests her chin on her knees.
“It was a long time ago, and I’m a different man now,” I respond. “But I’m still an expert with a rifle or any other gun in my hands.” Getting to my feet and starting for the kitchen, I tell her, “Come here.”
Kira gets up and walks over. When she’s close enough to see, I open the second bottom cabinet and remove the Smith & Wesson that’s fastened to the top. “If I’m not around and someone comes to the door, you can grab this one, if you know how to use it.”
Giving a small nod, she says, “I do. My father has guns.”
“Okay, good,” I say in surprise before putting the gun back. “There’s also one under my side of the mattress and one under the bathroom sink. Just don’t use them on me,” I warn her. “If you want to leave, then leave.”
Leaning her hip against the counter, she asks, “Do you want me to go?”
“I’m not forcing you to stay here.”
“That’s not what I asked,” Kira says. “Do you want me to go?”
“No,” I admit without hesitation.
Her eyes lower to where her fingernail starts to pick at the edge of the counter top. “You say you don’t, but it would be nice if you could show me too.”
“Show you?” I repeat in confusion.
“Yes,” she replies.
“How am I supposed to show you?”
“You don’t ever…touch me.”
“Touch you? You told me not to touch you, so I haven’t!”
Her blue eyes come up to mine, wide in shock. “That’s why you haven’t…” she trails off.
“I’m not going to make you do anything.”
“I want you to touch me again,” she says softly, which is fucking mind-blowing to hear since I was certain she couldn’t stand me.
“You sure about that?” I ask, unable to take her statement at face value. Not when everything she’s said and done over the last few weeks contradicts it. “If you lock yourself in the bathroom and cry again afterward, we’re done,” I tell her honestly. “I’ll pack your shit up and take you home myself.”
“I won’t,” she says. “That first day was just…intense.”
“Yeah, I’ve been criticized for that before,” I grumble.
“It’s not a bad thing. I just haven’t been with many men.”
“How many?” I ask.
“Three. Counting you,” she says, avoiding eye contact with me again which gives my eyes a chance to drink in the rest of her body that’s close enough to touch. Her perky tits are looking fuller than usual, hard nipples pointing right at me through her top. Her dark jeans are so snug on her long legs that I can almost make out her pussy lips in the crotch.
“How many times did you fuck the other two?” I question her because I’m happy she’s talking to me. I would enjoy the subject more if we weren’t talking about her sexual history with two other assholes.
“Seven times.”
“Wow,” I mutter. I wouldn’t have expected a young, beautiful, sexy girl like Kira to have been with a ton of guys before, but she looks like the long-term girlfriend type who would gladly spread her legs for her boyfriend whenever he wanted it.
“When was the last time? Before me?” I ask curiously, for more than one reason.
“A few years ago,” she answers, which means that, if she is knocked up, the kid is mine.
Fuck.
“So, I don’t know how to do to you what you did to me that night…” she says, blue eyes framed with long, dark lashes locked on mine.
Jesus, she’s gorgeous. And she could be carrying a part of me inside of her right fucking now.
“Yeah, you do know how,” I assure her, glancing down at her belly to see if it looks any different. It’s hard to tell through her shirt. I’d love to get my hands underneath it to find out for sure.
“No, I don’t,” she argues.
“This morning you did just fucking fine. Well, before you…”
“Really?” she asks with a hint of a smile lifting her naughty girl lips.
“Yeah,” I tell her. Which reminds me that I really need to find out if she’s late or whatever. “And, ah, about that, what happened this morning…”
“Could you maybe give me some pointers in bed? Teach me to be better for you?” she asks, causing all the blood in my body to rush south faster than ever before.
Fuck talking.
We can talk later.
“You don’t need to try to be better for me,” I tell her.
“Oh. Okay,” she says, actually sounding disappointed.
“It’s impossible because you’re already fucking incredible,” I say when I close the distance between us to grab her hip, sliding my thumb underneath her shirt to touch her soft skin.
Chapter Twenty-One
Kira
Oh, god. He’s touching me again.
It’s no more than the pad of his thumb on my hip, but to my libido you would think he ripped my clothes off.
I really wish he would rip my clothes off.
“Could I –” I try to say but a gasp interrupts when his thumb dips into my waistband.
“Could you what?” Miles asks, his gruff voice even deeper, his face just inches away from mine.
“Could I…maybe sleep with you tonight?” I finally blurt out the rest of my question for him.
His grip tightens on my hip while the fingers on his other hand come up to tug on the top button of my jeans, undoing them. “We need to work on our communication. No more jumping to the wrong conclusions and making assumptions,” he says. “What do you imagine we’ll be doing in my bed when you sleep with me tonight?” he asks while lowering my zipper.
“You’ll touch me?”
“Is that a question or a request?” he demands brusquely.
“Both.”
“Fuck, yes, I’m going to touch you,” Miles growls. His hand on my hip starts gliding slowly north, up my waist, stopping so that his thumb can rub circles over my beaded nipple, causing my breath to shudder. “What else?”
“Kiss me.”
“You want me to kiss you?” he asks, stilling his thumb.
“Yes,” I reply. “And…”
“And what?” Miles asks as he jerks my shirt over my head and throws it behind him. His eyes are lowered to my breasts that feel heavier all of a sudden, like they’re heaving out of the cups of my teal-colored bra.
“And not just my mouth.” The words barely leave my mouth before Miles hits his knees. He leans forward and his tongue flicks in and out of my belly button, simulating how he licked me lower before.
When he stops, he looks up at me with his palms on my ass, squeezing and then pulling my jeans down my legs. “Show me where you want me to kiss you.” Before I can speak, he growls and then his teeth scrape over my lower belly, biting at the waistband of my matching teal thong, making me give an embarrassing squeal. He drags the satin toward the floor, rubbing his nose down my pelvis and burying it in the apex of my thighs.
God, it feels so naughty to be standing in the kitchen nearly naked in just my bra with my pants around my knees, his face pressed to my crotch.
But it’s exactly what I’ve been wanting since that first night.
“There…I want you to kiss me there,” I tell him, placing my ha
nds on his shoulders for balance when my legs go weak. “And I don’t want you to stop until I…”
“Until you come on my tongue?” Miles finishes right before the tip of his tongue spears my flesh.
“Yesss,” I moan as my eyes slam closed and my head falls back.
Without his tongue pausing, Miles grabs one of my hands on his shoulder and places it on the side of his head.
Later I may even be embarrassed by how hard I pressed his face to my body, but right now it feels too good to care.
When the pleasure starts to build, I worry Miles will stop, leaving me on the precipice over and over again like before. So I cradle his head in both of my hands to keep him in place until the dam inside of me bursts wide open.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” I chant until my words turn into gasps, followed by an open-mouthed silent scream to the heavens.
The world tilts as I begin to come back down, and then I realize I’m sitting on the kitchen counter, still clutching Miles’ head while he removes my snug jeans the rest of the way down my legs and off.
“Why didn’t you tell me you needed my tongue in your pussy again?” he asks with his lips on the inside of my thighs. “I would’ve been eating you out all three meals every day.”
“I-I thought you didn’t want me,” I whisper, still floating down from my lust high.
“You have no idea how much I want you, princess,” he replies.
His words make me smile, but then I’m slapping my palm over my mouth when the same violent twist from this morning happens in my stomach.
“Oh shit,” Miles says, scrambling to his feet. He reaches for the dish rag on the sink and wets it while all I can do is sit there paralyzed from the sudden onset of nausea.
“Just breathe,” he tells me when he places the rag on the back of my neck and holds it there. “In through your nose, out through your mouth slowly. Try to think about something else, and maybe it’ll pass.”
I nod quickly, hoping he’s right. Since Miles is so close to me, still holding the rag to me, I grab his shoulders and bury my face in his neck to inhale his intoxicating scent. He smells like the leather of his vest mixed with his spicy, masculine aftershave.