Touchdowns and Tiaras: The Complete Boxed Set

by Sosie Frost

  What had happened before he was born.

  Why his mother wasn’t around.

  Why I’d never let her near him again.

  I lowered my gaze. “Victoria was the head cheerleader. Popular girl. We’d dated for a year, and I got her pregnant. But she didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t go to the doctor.” My voice hardened. “Didn’t stop partying on the weekends. No one knew, including me.”

  “She must have been scared.”

  “Only because her cheerleading uniform couldn’t fit anymore.”

  Christ. I was supposed to be zip-lining, paintballing, and fucking the hell out of my wife. The last thing I’d expected was to relive these memories.

  But Victoria had left another half-dozen messages on my phone. I’d have to face her again, if only so I didn’t lose my shit if she got too close to Sebastian.

  I released a ragged breath. “Everyone knew I was bound for the pros, even at sixteen. My mom had done everything she could to help me. She took second jobs to pay for trainers and saved every penny to get new equipment, to let me travel on an all-star team, to find good doctors if I was injured. She sacrificed so much for this…but then I had to tell her I got a girl pregnant.” My mouth dried. I hated remembering it. “I told her, and it nearly broke her heart. The look she gave me…”

  Elle took my hand. “Lachlan…”

  “The night I told my mom, Victoria panicked. She was seven months in, and finally beginning to show. She ended up in the hospital after she tried to terminate the pregnancy at home.”

  “Oh my God.”

  “We’re just fucking lucky nothing happened to Bast. She nearly killed him and herself…and she said she did it because she was getting fat.” The word stung. “We learned later she was intentionally starving herself to stay slim. Made her sick. I get she was young and scared…” I shook my head. “But I can’t forgive her for trying to hurt him. I won’t.”

  “But she had the baby,” Elle said.

  Because she was under doctor supervision. “Her parents wanted to put him up for adoption.”

  “And you?”

  “I wanted him. He was mine. I was a fucked-up kid then, some hot-shot asshole jock, but I knew right from wrong. I told her I’d take him, and Victoria said fine. She wanted nothing to do with him. Ever. Terminated her rights. She gave birth, and I cut her out of our lives.”

  “So you had a baby in high school?” Elle asked.

  The shame burned me. “I tried, but I was an idiot kid with too many opportunities. College coaches came to watch me play—promising full-rides to any college I wanted. I was seventeen, and NFL scouts were telling me I’d go pro after college. That I had potential. I was gifted.”

  “You are.”

  Yeah, right. “My mom stopped me. I was prepared to drop out of school, get a job, take care of him. But she knew best. I wouldn’t have been a good father then.”

  Elle stared at me, amazed. “You’d have walked away from football?”

  “Yeah, and we would have had a shit life with no money, no chances, no opportunities to show for it. Mom fought with me on the day he was born. She said I could do more for him if I stayed in school, went to college, and played football. I’d make it into the pros like we’d planned, and then I’d be able to provide for him. Food, clothing, shelter, education. Everything millions of dollars could buy.”

  Elle understood, nodded without any judgement. “Your mother adopted him?”

  “Yeah. Raised him as her own. We hid the truth from everyone—friends, family. I transferred high-schools. She switched jobs and pretended Bast was her son. No one knew. No one asked any questions. We kept it secret so no college would think twice about offering me a scholarship.”

  And there it was.

  The truth.

  Was it horrible or just heart-breaking?

  Elle went quiet, thinking, watching me as I breathed hard and ragged.

  Her voice was a sweetness that might have convinced me everything would be okay. “I think you did the right thing. He’s a great kid. He’s happy and healthy, and you can do so much for him now.”

  “He doesn’t have a father.”

  “But he has an amazing big brother.”

  That wasn’t enough. “It’s not the same. I grew up without a father. It sucked. Never knowing how to act, how to treat people, when to put on a fucking condom. My mom raised me well, but I gotta show Bast how to be a good man.”

  “And you will.”

  “My mother sacrificed everything for us. Bast’s life is fucked up because of me.” I held her stare. “I don’t have a choice now, Red. I have to make this work. For them. I can’t blow this chance.”

  If I hadn’t ruined it already.

  And it felt like the end was near.

  I took her hand, kissing the fingers.

  “And now you’re pregnant.” Heavy fucking words. “Another woman having my baby. Christ, I must have some sort of superpower.”

  Elle smiled. “You do make the earth move for me.”

  “At least I don’t have super speed.”

  I didn’t deserve her laugh or her kiss. I took it anyway.

  “Elle, I’m won’t make the same mistakes I made with Bast. I’ll be here for you. I’m not strong enough to walk away this time. I won’t survive those minutes and hours and days and years watching him grow up without me.”

  “We can do it together,” she said.

  “You will never be alone.” My vow to her. “I won’t fuck this up. Not while you and Mom and Bast and the baby need me. I’m going to give you the life you deserve.”

  Elle folded her fingers in mine. “You’re not alone either. We’re married…we’re kinda family already.”

  And it would stay that way.

  “I’m gonna fix this,” I said. “Change how I’m playing and step up my game. Every fucking penny I earn will belong to you guys. It’s yours. I just need to know that I can take care of you.”

  Elle edged close, and I welcomed her into my lap.

  “I don’t want your money, Lachlan.” She brushed my cheek with the back of her fingers. “I want the baby to know you the way I do. I want him to see his father’s smile and hear his laugh. I want him to know how…” Her voice trembled. “How wonderful his father is.”

  Her eyes watered. She blinked before a tear escaped.

  No.

  I wasn’t letting her get upset. She’d revealed enough to me. I wasn’t hearing another word, not even that beautiful whisper.

  I was the one who needed to prove myself to her.

  I buried my hands in her hair, stealing a kiss I hadn’t earned. She returned the sensual nibble. Her hips rocked, slow. Not deliberately. Instinctually.

  I hated myself for hardening, but the graze of her lips was a gift. I’d be damned if I ever missed an opportunity to demonstrate how amazing she was.

  How much I loved her.

  This feisty, sassy, amazingly quirky woman let me into her life when I had no right to her heart. And now she carried my baby.

  If she gave me the chance, I’d offer her the greatest life she could imagine. I just had to convince her that I was worth her touch, her kiss, her love.

  Maybe I tripped over words when I should have been solemn, and I teased when she wanted my honesty, but I was damn good at proving my feelings when words stripped away like clothes.

  I kissed her neck, the soft hollow that turned her words into mews. My cock throbbed as she breathed my name.

  “I’m glad I told you about the baby,” she whispered.

  The feeling was mutual. I nipped her throat, not hard, just tasting her. Holding her. Realizing how damn close I was to making her mine forever.

  “I knew something was different,” I said. “You looked more beautiful than ever.”

  “You’re so full of it.”

  “I’m serious. You felt softer…” I kissed the sensitive little hollow between her neck and shoulders. “Your tits are…just awesome.” The shirt fell away, and
I stared at her bra, overflowing with her plump curves. “You were also really sick, and I should have put two and two together.”

  “I don’t feel so bad right now.”

  “No?” I smirked. “Feeling good?”

  “I could feel better.”

  “I guarantee you will.”

  Elle squealed as I stood. She wrapped her legs over my waist, and my wife knew how to drive me fucking wild. Her nails dug in, her kisses grew hot, and she giggled as I carried her to her bed.

  She squirmed against the ocean-blue bedspread. The light stayed low, cast only from a second bubbling fish tank—soft and soothing. The water reflected onto the bed, and Elle stared at me, wide-eyed and waiting, like my own little ocean siren.

  Would she get pissed if I tore through her jeans? I peeled the denim from her hips and kissed every inch of her revealed skin. She coo’ed as I licked a path up, over her belly, across her chest, back to her lips.

  God those legs.

  She wrapped me up and snuggled me in. Perfect.

  Elle had no idea how much she meant to me. I hadn’t taken the time to tell her either. That changed now.

  I kissed a line of promises along her hazelnut arms, to her elbow, her delicate wrist, each of her fingers. She smiled as I tugged her bra strap down with my teeth.

  “Why aren’t you freaking out about this?” she asked.

  I stared at my beautiful, panting woman, waiting for me to savor every inch of her. My cock strained hard against my jeans. I took her hand and placed it over the bulge.

  “Does this feel like a freak-out, Red?”

  “You’re not afraid?

  “I’m fucking terrified.” I grinned. “But the only thing that could make you more beautiful is if you were carrying my child.”

  My baby—growing inside of her. Safe. Warm. Protected.

  Loved.

  I pulled her bra away, and I lost myself within the satin smooth skin of her breasts. She had swelled, but her dark, tightening nipple distracted me more. I seized one, popping it into my mouth with a slurp loud enough to make Elle giggle. She shivered. I did it again. She tasted more delicious than ever. My treat.

  Her groan excited me, as sweet as music. If only she knew her pleasure was my pleasure. By the time we were done, I’d overwhelm her with every delight I could tease from her most sensitive areas.

  Twice.

  Three times.

  Hell, I’d never let her go again.

  I suckled on her breasts and nipped the dark curves. But my attention focused lower, a place softer, wetter, and far more dangerous to both of our inhibitions.

  My kisses slowed over her tummy. I teased her with a lick to her navel, but I paused where she carried our baby. I kissed. She ran her hands through my hair.

  “We can handle this, right?” she whispered.

  It’d be the last time she worried about anything so silly.

  I grinned. “Believe me, Red. You’re gonna be pampered. You’re gonna be spoiled. You’re gonna be so tired of having your legs in the air, you’ll beg for me to back off.” I winked. “And I won’t.”

  “Kinda ruined our third date though.”

  I kissed again, heading lower, untangling her panties and spreading her legs wide.

  “It’s not ruined at all…” I laughed. “Definitely got my adrenaline surging.”

  “No rush beats a pregnancy.”

  “I haven’t found one yet…” I leaned close, dragging my tongue along her trembling slit, already slick with desire. “And I couldn’t imagine a better date.”

  “You knew it’d end with my panties off.”

  “End?” I settled onto my elbows. “Red, this is just the start. We’ve got all day and night to go…”

  “And you want to spend it in bed?”

  “Tie a napkin around my neck. I’m eating my breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here.”

  Elle must have loved my confidence. She relaxed for me, opened her legs wider, groaned my name as I sunk upon her most sensitive secret as if I’d never get to touch her again.

  She trusted me with her body, her secret, the baby, everything. It was as amazing as it was terrifying. For as perfect and beautiful as this blessing was…it was a second chance. My last chance.

  Life wasn’t kind enough to give me a third.

  I had to do better. Work harder. And I’d do it for her and the baby and Bast.

  Because I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let them down. If I kept letting them down.

  If I failed.

  I feasted upon her pussy without any teasing pretense or hesitation. Why was it so easy to prove my feelings when buried between her legs? Every lick, nibble, and kiss enthralled her. She wetted for me, slick and creamy with desire. Elle gripped the comforter, twisting in the blankets as my tongue slipped in her petals and flicked along that sensitive nub.

  She liked it quick. Intense. No little light brushes or delicate kisses. And that was fine. I didn’t have a feather touch. I sucked. I devoured. I buried my lips in her slit and suckled against her puffy clit until Elle bucked her hips, sweated, cried out my name. Her body tensed and ached.

  So easy to come.

  So willing.

  I had planned to do it nice and easy, but fuck it. I didn’t need flowers and candy to show I loved her. Elle would learn it from sloppy, grunted slurps and the broad stroke of my tongue spreading her wide.

  She cried out, coming so hard that the squeeze of her thighs around my head deafened me to everything but my own ragged breath and pounding heartbeat.

  “Lachlan!” She fell limp, exposing herself, her body, her perfect, quivering slit. “I—”

  She couldn’t finish.

  I had no idea if it was a declaration of her feelings or just the amazement of having the greatest and sloppiest orgasm of her life.

  It didn’t matter.

  She loved every messy, wet, grunted second of my attention.

  And I didn’t give her a moment to recover.

  This was my chance to take her unguarded. No splashing in the river to distract her. No secret pregnancy to keep. No one who might have caught us in the darkness of the garden during the gala.

  Just me.

  Her.

  Our baby.

  I unbuckled my jeans and freed my cock, aching to bury inside her heat. She kissed me, fiercely, licking my lips and tasting her own desire as she struggled to catch her breath.

  I wasn’t done with her yet. I’d make sure she was always this sated.

  She stared at me, her eyes heavy and her lips swollen. I guided her legs around my waist. Her heavy sigh heated into a wanton beg.

  “More…” She gripped my arms. “I have to feel you.”

  My cock throbbed, aching. I guided it to her slickness. The heat nearly scalded me, but I wasn’t crazy enough to stop. If she’d sear through me, burn me to nothing more than ash, at least I’d spend those last agonizingly perfect seconds completely sheathed within her.

  “From now on, Red…my name is going to be the only word you think,” I said. “The only sound you speak. The only fantasy you’ll ever need.”

  She panted beneath me. “It already is.”

  “I promise you…” My words roughened. She was too beautiful for a harsh fuck, and too irresistible to take gently. “I’m going to do this right. The marriage. The baby. Us. Do you believe that?”

  “Yes.”

  Good.

  At least one of us was confident.

  I could try. Do everything I thought was right. Work as hard as possible until my body broke.

  But I worried it wouldn’t be enough.

  I’d fuck it up.

  I’d ruin it.

  “Lachlan…” Elle begged. “Take me. Fuck me. I need to feel you.”

  And I needed her. More than she realized.

  More than even I knew.

  I plunged within her. She arched, groaned, biting her lip, squeezing me so tight I feared I might have hurt her.

&nbs
p; Until her body shook.

  Until her eyes closed.

  Until she whispered my name with such sweetness, such gratitude, I nearly asked her to marry me again.

  Her legs pulled me close, and I crashed over her, tangling my hands in her hair. She arched for me. Wanting more.

  My cock bottomed out in the most perfect pussy I had ever taken in my life. Every inch of her wrapped me in the softness of silk and a tightness that might have wrenched me apart. But what a way to go.

  I never wanted to pull from her, to leave her, to feel anything but the way she stretched and opened and welcomed me thrust after thrust.

  I started by taking her. Fucking her. Pleasuring her.

  But my own selfish desire overwhelmed me. I drowned in a need to be with her, and she knew it. Sensed it. Wanted it too.

  She clung to me and offered her body. Every luxurious inch. Every tightening, crushing thrust. She took it all. She gave herself to me.

  “Never had anyone like you before…” Her words trembled. I kissed her, tasting her honesty. “It’s so good…no idea…”

  “You were made for me,” I whispered. “Fucking fairy tale perfection. Do you believe me now?”

  “I don’t believe in fate.”

  “What do you believe in?”

  “Us.” She gripped my hand. “I want us.”

  “Even if I fuck it up?”

  “You don’t fuck anything bad.”

  She arched and cried out, close to her own orgasm. I fucked her harder, pushing her over that edge.

  I’d break her with pleasure just to rebuild her in ecstasy.

  “I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted,” I said. “I can be the man you’ll love, the father to your child, the prince charming of your fairy tale. If you want me. If you’ll have me. If…”

  If I didn’t fail and ruin everyone’s expectations—including my own.

  She clenched too hard, groaning my name and a dozen other words and affections and promises that would be lost in the haze of her pleasure and the darkness of her desire.

  I couldn’t hold back. I gripped her hips and forced in deeper, battling her own orgasm and tightness and the squeezing, milking, teasing muscles that would steal my sanity and lose my mind within her silken core.

  I should have said that I loved her.

  Instead, I gave her this moment. A precious, beautiful, spine-rending moment of complete understanding. I offered her jet after jet of heat and my promises and the only confidence I had left.