by Sam Crescent
The water ran, and she turned to see him washing his hands before wiping them on the towel. She did like his cleanliness.
“What is this?”
“You know what it is.” Her cheeks were on fire, and she felt sick to her stomach. She took a deep breath, hoping she didn’t throw up.
She was still hungry.
“Is it yours?” he asked.
“The baby?”
“No, the boxes. You took these?”
“Yes.”
“Holy shit,” he said.
She nibbled her lip, feeling tears spring to her eyes. “I … I…”
“When do we have a doctor’s appointment?” he asked.
“What?”
“We need to get you checked out. Make sure everything is fine. Fuck, I can’t, I won’t sleep with you. Sex is out of the question.” He rushed toward her, his hand landing on her stomach. “Are you okay? How do you feel? I thought you looked pale the other day, but I didn’t want to upset you.”
“You noticed?”
“Of course I noticed. When it comes to you, I notice everything.”
“Oh. You’re not going to ask if this is your baby?”
“I know it’s mine. I trust you, Jo.”
“This was only supposed to be sex.” She stared into his eyes, waiting for something, desperate to find anything to say this was something more.
She couldn’t see any signs, and it scared her.
“It was sex, but now it’s a whole lot more. You’re going to marry me.”
“Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. No one said anything here about marriage. I already got out of a bad one.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“You didn’t marry the other mother.” She frowned. “You know what I mean.”
“There’s a difference.”
“There is? Enlighten me then.”
“Simple, I didn’t give a flying fuck about Dale’s mother. She was a quick, easy fuck.”
“And I’m not?”
“No.” He gripped her ass, holding her against his side. “You’re mine, Jo. The moment you entered that bar, you became mine. The moment I sank my dick inside your pussy, you were mine.”
“I get it, I get it. I’m yours.”
“Damn straight you are, and that means my ring on your finger. You’re my old lady. The crew all like and respect you. That baby is going to have my name, and you’re going to be my wife.”
“And I’ve got no choice in the matter?”
“Tell me you don’t love me as much as I love you.”
This made her pause. “You love me.”
“I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve for anyone, Jo. I knew you were trouble the moment you entered my club. I just didn’t know how much.”
“This is crazy. I can’t believe we’re even considering this.”
“Crazy or not, it’s happening. Sooner rather than later.” He stroked her stomach. “Were you going to tell me?”
“Of course. I didn’t expect you to go rummaging around in my trash though. I had hoped to have some time.”
“I’m a nosy bastard. Can’t help myself.” He kissed her head. “I’ll prove it to you.”
“What?”
“That I love you.”
She cupped his cheek, stroking her thumb across it. “You don’t have to prove anything to me.”
****
Doc had never been good with words or romance. When it came to Jo, he’d expected it all to be sex. Meaningless sex, or at least that was what he’d hoped. They were only supposed to use each other, but standing before Jo, three weeks after finding out she was pregnant, he was overjoyed as the priest announced them as man and wife.
He pulled her into his arms, and as all of his boys watched, he claimed her lips hard. The Nowhere Men MC cheered, and he heard Mandy’s whistle. She was the only bridesmaid and maid of honor. Jo hadn’t wanted a big affair, and just marrying in front of the club had been ideal for him.
Some of the club pussy weren’t happy with the way he’d been taken off the market, but knowing he was going to be a father and the feelings he had for Jo, he didn’t give a shit.
No other woman would do.
The only one he wanted was Jo, and everyone else would fall into line. He had no problems pissing others off. In fact, he rather saw it as a sport.
“You’re all mine now,” he said, tilting her head back to smile at her.
“You think that scares me?”
“Doesn’t it?”
“Not a chance. The time for being afraid was when I first met you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he cupped her ass. Once again, his boys let out whistles. Jo’s face went a nice bright red as she buried her head against his chest.
“Oh, God, I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it, baby.” He kissed her lips, her neck, and held her close. He wasn’t in a rush to leave. They were at the clubhouse for a reason. He wanted her all to himself. “How are you feeling?”
“A little tired, but I’ve been told that’s normal. Carrying two babies is a challenge.”
He stroked her stomach, kneeling down to touch her and kissing their babies. Her stomach wasn’t showing any real signs of being pregnant but that wouldn’t be long now.
He couldn’t wait to see her heavily pregnant with his kids. In fact, it made his balls ache just thinking about it.
“Doc, everyone is watching?”
“They all know I’ve knocked you up, babe.”
“Charming.”
“That’s me, charming all over.” He stood up, holding her in his arms. “I really do love you, you know.”
“You keep on saying that.”
He stroked a curl back from her head, and was completely hypnotized by her smile. “I mean it.”
She ran her hands over his chest. “I know you do. I love you too.”
He’d never believed in love. For a long time, he’d been cynical about a lot of married couples as he truly believed they moved too fast. To finally find the woman meant for him and to have her all to himself, he couldn’t imagine being with anyone different. She was everything, and he knew he was lucky to have her.
The priest bade them goodbye, and with Jo at his side, he watched the priest leave, before heading back to the party. He didn’t let Jo go all night, dancing with her. Even when a couple of the guys tried to take her away to dance, he wouldn’t let her go, not even with Mandy, who was trying to avoid Dale.
He didn’t know what was going on between his employee and his son, but he made a note to keep an eye on them.
“So, you now have me all to yourself, Doc, what is it you’re going to do with me?” she asked.
“Blow your mind with just how happy I’m going to make you.”
Epilogue
Seven months later
Holding onto Jo’s hands, Doc had no choice but to grit his teeth and endure the pain as his wife screamed. She pushed, and he kissed her head, holding her, hoping the little shits would come out of her soon.
If he ever had a single doubt of his feelings about this woman, he no longer did. He was fucking furious. She had kept the pain levels and the contractions to herself until he’d woken up to her whimpering.
He’d gone to the bathroom that night to find her with a damp towel between her teeth, sweat beading her forehead. She had finally told him she needed to go to the hospital.
There hadn’t been enough time to get her signed in, but with how late it was, the doctors escorted her straight to labor. That had only been five minutes ago, and now, his son and daughter were being stubborn.
They were hurting her, and he couldn’t stand to hear her pain.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, a scream filled the air. The sound was strong and fierce. Doc didn’t dare look, just in case something happened.
His men had taken the piss out of him for all the pregnancy books he’d read. He hadn’t cared with Dale’s mother. She had been nothing more than a
quick fuck that had resulted in a pregnancy.
With Jo, he paid attention.
He was at every single doctor’s appointment, and all of the classes she wanted him to go to. Regardless of how he made people feel, he was there for her.
“One more push, baby,” he said. “One more push.”
“I’m so tired.”
“I know. I know. You’re amazing. You’re stunning. You’re beautiful.” He kissed her as the doctor tried to get her to push. “Come on, we’re nearly done.”
She sighed but grabbed his hands as she needed to push.
He held her, taking the pain as she squeezed down. Finally, another scream, and Jo collapsed against him, sobbing.
“They sound so beautiful,” she said.
“They’re ours, Jo. You and me did this.”
The nurses came over, holding out two bundles.
One placed his little girl in his arms, as his son was given to Jo. He stood as close to her as he could.
“Are you okay?” he asked, worried for her.
“I’m … so happy. Look what we did,” she said.
“You did this, honey. You brought these two angels into the world.” He stared down at his daughter and at his son. “They’re perfect. You’ve got a big brother. Both of you have a big brother. He’s going to love you so much.”
“Dale and Mandy, we’ve got to tell them.”
“I will. I’ll call them.”
“What should we name them?” she asked.
“Rachel and Kyle,” he said.
She chuckled. “You really like those names.”
He stared down at the woman he loved. “As long as I have you, I don’t care.”
“I love those names.” She turned to their babies. “Rachel and Kyle it is. You’re going to be so loved.”
Doc stayed with Jo until she fell asleep. With his two babies asleep in their crib, he left the room to let Mandy and Dale know about their birth. He hung up the phone and made his way back inside.
Moving onto the bed, he spooned his wife, wrapping his arms around her.
Kissing her neck, he closed his eyes, content, in love, and knowing that come morning, it was going to be hell.
He couldn’t wait.
The End
www.samcrescent.com
Other Books by Sam Crescent:
www.evernightpublishing.com/sam-crescent
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BONUS SAMPLE CHAPTER
BROKEN BASTARD
Killer of Kings, 2
Sam Crescent & Stacey Espino
Copyright © 2017
Sample Chapter
“Scarlett, are you being serious? No, I know you’re not being serious, because if you were, you’d be insane,” said Lisa.
“I have no choice. You heard Carter. He’s going to cut twenty freelancers this year alone.” Scarlett hooked her oversized purse over her shoulder, and then reached for the stack of colored file folders. “I can’t lose this job.”
“Fine, I get it, but this is suicide.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”
She made her way to the office elevator, her friend tailing behind her. Her next interview might be unorthodox, and theoretically a bit dangerous, but desperate times called for desperate measures. She’d only been at this company for eight months, officially still on probation, so she’d be one of the first her boss would cut. Scarlett was damn good at what she did. One day she hoped to reach reporter level, but right now she had to give the stories she always found to someone else. The truth was, her boss took the stories she’d researched and gave them to other girls. Still, she was determined to show her worth, and how valuable she could be as a reporter.
It wasn’t easy getting a personal meeting with Alexei Semenov. He was a big-time crime ringleader, not the biggest, but it would still be headline news. Her boss, Wilson Carter, had to see her value after closing an interview with a name like Semenov. Scarlett was sick and tired of pinching pennies and fighting just to maintain the status quo. She wanted to make something of her career, not to mention she didn’t have enough money for next month’s rent.
“Are you taking a camera crew?” asked Lisa, holding the elevator door open with her hip.
“Yeah, like that’s going to happen. Look, I’ll be fine. Promise. Semenov wants to portray a favorable image to the media, so he’s going to be on his best behavior.”
Lisa sighed. “You’re impossible. See you tomorrow then? I’ll bring the coffee.”
“Thanks.”
The doors began to close, and Scarlett watched her friend disappear from view. She wouldn’t admit that her heart raced like a freight train, and her hands felt clammy. If she wasn’t in such a dire predicament, there was no way she’d be heading out to meet one of the most hated men in the city. The man was a Russian mobster, and she had no wingman, camera crew … nothing.
Forty minutes later, she stopped her Kia Rio in front of a set of massive iron gates. She double checked the address she’d scribbled on a piece of paper, but this was definitely the place. The gates began to open, swinging inwards, so she continued to drive along the long path. She admired the manicured grounds, water fountains, and old-world architecture of the mansion coming into view.
She took a deep breath as she parked the car. You can do this, Scarlett.
The sky started turning a mix of orange and pink, signaling the sunset was fast approaching. She didn’t like meeting at night, but she couldn’t get off work early and Mr. Semenov insisted they meet at eight o’clock sharp.
Scarlett lugged all her supplies out of the passenger side. She’d brought an older model video camera with tripod, voice recorders, paperwork, and her laptop. This was a huge deal, so she wore her best suit, reserved for only the most important occasions. The wine-colored skirt and jacket did a great job at concealing her explosive curves. Her extra weight was only another reason she had to make this work. Wilson Carter only kept the young, thin girls at the front of the house, and the same was true for the news and weather editions of his cable network.
As she walked up the custom stone staircase toward the entry doors of the house, she was flanked by Alexei Semenov’s security detail. She held her breath as they approached her.
“I have an appointment at eight o’clock for an interview,” she said before being asked. Scarlett swallowed hard after speaking. The three men didn’t smile, their faces solemn as they glared at her with enough malice to make her question her decision to come. One of the men snatched her bags away from her and began rooting through them, while another patted her down like a common criminal.
“Mr. Semenov will see you in the sitting room.” Then he opened the door and motioned for her to enter. The foyer was bigger than her entire apartment, with vaulting ceilings and shiny white marble floors. There was enough artwork and stone sculptures in view to fill a small museum. She walked forward, in complete awe. No reporter had been through these doors, so she was one of the privileged few to see the inside the Semenov mansion. It probably helped that she wasn’t a reporter, and there was no mention of her in any of the articles she had been part of, not even as a researcher. She was a nobody, fighting to be a somebody.
“Sit here,” said another man, pointing to one of the sofas. “He will be with you shortly.”
She nodded and sat down, resting her bags by her feet. Within minutes she was alone in the sitting room. The place was quieter than a mausoleum. Scarlett tapped her foot, her nervous energy not letting up. The doors to a study were partially open ahead of her, the glow from a desk lamp catching her attention. Should she take some pics? She didn’t want to do anything that might get her into trouble, so she didn’t risk it. Instead, she began to attach the tri
pod to the clunky old video camera in preparation for the interview. After today, maybe they’d trust her with the newer equipment.
At just a few minutes to eight, a couple men in suits rushed down the hallway, brandishing handguns. She gasped and froze. There was commotion just out of sight, and then a gunshot shattered a large clay vase, the shards raining down on the marble. Scarlett dropped to her knees and crawled to the end of the sofa to hide. Oh God, why didn’t I listen to Lisa?
The doors to the study flung open, and a huge man in a navy suit stood in the entryway with an automatic weapon in both hands. He looked like the damn Terminator. She heard different men yelling in Russian but couldn’t understand a word. The big man didn’t even take a step before he collapsed to the ground after another gunshot rang off, the sound echoing in the massive sitting room. Then she saw him, Alexei Semenov, coming around from the grand oak desk in the office. Scarlett recognized him immediately. His stern, wrinkled face was always plastered on the news.
What the hell is happening?
Alexei spoke in a cool but arrogant tone, in his own language. Who was he talking to? Then a different man dressed in all black strode toward the office. He came out of nowhere, like a ghost. She noticed the hand holding his gun was covered in ink. In fact, the tattoos even peeked out from the top of his collar, climbing up his neck. He looked like a force, death personified. The two men spoke briefly, a calm exchange, and then she watched as the tattooed man put a single bullet between Alexei’s eyes. It all seemed to happen in slow motion—the gunshot, the spray of blood, the lifeless body crashing to the floor.
Scarlett let out a scream but quickly covered her mouth with both hands. It was too late. The killer turned his head and looked directly at her crouched down at the end of the sofa.
He cursed, holstering his weapon, and came toward her. She screamed again, toppling back onto her ass.