Audrey’s Inn

by Aycart, Elle

  “Yes. Why?”

  It was a face-forward shot, and she hadn’t remembered to cover her face. Granted, given the helmet, the sunglasses and the tongue, she was quite difficult to recognize, but still. “We should blur your face.”

  “You’re exaggerating. And the OGs will notice.”

  He chuckled. “Actually, the OGs will be the only ones not to.”

  “Did you bring what I asked you?” she questioned, trying to divert his attention. So cute. She even thought it would work. As soon as she turned around, he was going to Photoshop that picture.

  He handed her the envelope he’d brought along. In it was the only picture in existence of the real Audrey. As per her request, he’d printed it in black-and-white and added a filter to make it look much older than it was. “Here you go. Are you going to put it somewhere?”

  She gestured toward the far end, where there was an image of the OGs on a picnic when they were young. “I’ll hang it near that one. She deserves to be here.”

  “What if the OGs ask?” They were old, but they were bound to notice a picture that didn’t belong.

  Slipping the photo into a frame, she answered, “I’ll tell them I found it in the barn where the OGmobile was. It could have come from a friend of a friend of Audrey’s family, someone they didn’t know. Right?”

  Right. “Do you need any help?”

  She waved him off. “No, house elf. You’re dismissed. Go to the cottage. You look exhausted.”

  He was exhausted. He didn’t know how the mediator’s other clients were, but if they were at all like his dad and grandma, it was a miracle the man hadn’t shot himself. Although he certainly hadn’t looked very happy.

  “I’ll rest for a bit.” He kissed her and turned to leave.

  “Con.”

  “What?”

  She threw herself into his arms, hugging him tight. “Nothing, baby.”

  “You okay?” he asked over her head.

  “I missed you,” she said, kissing his chest. “Now go.”

  He gave her a squeeze and a peck on the lips and left. Audrey had been a bit strange lately. A bit withdrawn, in her own world. Too much work? Or maybe she was stressed out. He was going to talk with her tonight. If she was worried about loan payments, he could help. Correction: he was going to help, whether she wanted him to or not.

  Once in the cottage, he kicked off his shoes and plopped on the couch. He meant to close his eyes only for a minute—but next time he opened them, it was getting dark outside. He stretched and, realizing Audrey wasn’t there yet, decided to go back to the inn.

  He took a fast shower, got dressed, and looked around for the shoes he’d kicked off in the living room. One was in plain view, but he didn’t see the other. He checked under the couch and found it, near something that looked like a thermometer.

  He grabbed the stick and frowned. Fuck. That was a pregnancy test.

  A positive pregnancy test.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Con had sneaked into the inn’s kitchen and prepared a romantic supper for Audrey, candlelight included. He wanted to treat her, but the second she walked into the cottage and smiled at him, all he wanted was to strip her naked and fuck her. Doing his damnedest to restrain himself, he walked up to her and kissed her. Time to behave like a responsible human being and not a sex-crazed animal.

  “What’s all this?” she asked, motioning to the table.

  “I ransacked your kitchen.”

  “I see that,” she said, chuckling. “Is it your birthday?” She stopped for a second. “My birthday? Audrey’s birthday?”

  He shook his head, amused, and she frowned. God, she looked so sexy. “No? Then what are we celebrating?”

  Their baby. But he wasn’t going to spoil her surprise. He’d wait for her to tell him. “I owe you a real date, remember? You’ve been so busy lately with the inn that I figured you wouldn’t want to go out anywhere, so voilá.”

  She gave him a suggestive onceover. “I’m not really that hungry. For food, that is.”

  He let out a laugh. Man, here he was, trying to be all well-trained and civilized.

  “What?” she asked, confused, not reading him right. “You angry?”

  He shook his head again. “I’m not really craving food either. I was just trying to be a gentleman.”

  The vixen grinned. “You know I like you best when you’re not a gentleman.”

  “I do.” He started unbuttoning her blouse. Her face was flushed, her pupils were growing big, and the vein at the base of her neck was pumping. She was turned on. When she reached for him, he moved them toward the back of the couch. “Hands on the couch. My turn.”

  “Your turn to what?”

  “Feast.” This was all for her. He was going to feast on her and make her come so many times, she was going to pass out.

  By the time the blouse was open, her breathing was labored, her stiff nipples pressing against her bra. He caressed one peak and she moaned. “Are your nipples aching, baby girl? Let’s get rid of the bra, shall we?”

  “Please.”

  Once the bra was off, he perused her, hefting her breasts in his hands, softly squeezing them. “Gorgeous tits.” He hadn’t noticed before, but her breasts were fuller. Rounder.

  He nuzzled her throat, his hands never leaving her tits. With every squeeze, she let out a needy whimper. Her back arched and her fingers sank into the couch cushions.

  “You wet already?”

  “Very much so.” Her voice was ragged. So damn needy. Such a turn-on.

  He reached for the button and zipper on her skirt and made quick work of them. Ignoring her pleas, he released her and stepped back. “Show me.”

  She shimmied out of her skirt and undies while Con watched, his dick throbbing in his pants, dying to be freed. Finally she was naked in front of him, wearing only her pumps. Her bare pussy glistened with her need; her nipples were tight and dark. Man, if she was going to be so easily aroused for the duration of the pregnancy, she was going to kill him.

  She threw her undies to him. They had a wet spot, and they smelled so fucking sweet. “There’s your proof. Come get me.”

  She didn’t have to say it twice. He cupped her face and fell on her, kissing her hard and long, trying to convey all that he felt for her. He wanted her. Needed her. Fuck air. He’d manage without that, somehow, without her, though, he was done for.

  She reached for his clothes again, but he stopped her impatient little hands. “My turn, remember?” He spun her around, and cupping her pussy, whispered in her ear, “You have nothing to tell me?”

  “No. Not really.”

  He parted her folds and pushed two fingers inside of her. She gasped, her body shivering in his arms as he penetrated her. “Sure you aren’t forgetting something?”

  She was silent for a long second, then nodded. “You were right. I shouldn’t hang the after-after-after pic without blurring my face. I’ll tell Shantel to take it down. And hosting Amantis’s party was a big security risk. I won’t do anything like that again without consulting you. I promise.”

  He chuckled.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, babe.” He hadn’t meant that, but obviously she wasn’t ready to broach the subject of the pregnancy test. Fine. He could wait. “I’m glad we agree.”

  He wanted to bend her over the couch and fuck her right there, but he reined in the impulse. He hadn’t gotten his fill yet. “Hold on, baby girl.” He slid his fingers out of her and lifted one of her knees to the back of the couch, leaving her pussy totally exposed, her dark pink hole dripping.

  “Connor?” She turned her head toward him, her eyes were glazed. And expectant.

  “I got you.” He went on his knees, placed his hands on her inner thighs, and licked her pussy.

  “Oh God,” she moaned at the contact. Grabbing the couch, she bent over, giving him better access.

  He feasted on her, lapping at her folds and her clit and soon she was screaming and coming on his tong
ue. “More,” he demanded, lowering her leg and turning her around.

  “More?” she asked, licking her dry lips. “What—”

  “Come again on my mouth. Then you can have my cock. Do you want my cock, baby girl?”

  She nodded, her eyes at half-mast, her legs a bit shaky. Ignoring his hard-on, he kneeled down again, lifted her leg over his shoulder, and devoured her once more. He craved her taste. Her smell. The softness of her inner flesh. She was addictive.

  She whimpered, her legs almost giving way. Her pussy was so damn hot and sensitive from his ministrations, it took even less time to set her off again. Almost on the tail of that first orgasm came a second, more powerful one.

  Her legs buckled, and he caught her in his arms.

  “So fucking responsive. So fucking hot. You almost made me come in my pants.”

  He kissed her softly on the lips and she smiled, her eyes still closed, her breathing not yet back to normal. “Wow,” she let out.

  He sat on the couch, Audrey on his lap, and kissed her some more. Little by little, she came back to life. She reached for his shirt and pulled it off him. “Can I have your cock now?” she asked roguishly.

  He went along. “You can have anything you want from me, baby girl. Anything.”

  “I love the taste of me on you,” she admitted, while her fingers undid his zipper and his cock sprang out. She smiled against his lips and, palming him hard, took his mouth just as hard. “Get rid of the pants. Now.”

  Fuck, she was hot when she got bossy.

  She stood up and helped him, but once he was naked, she didn’t return to his lap. She knelt between his legs. “My turn now.”

  “No, baby.” He tried to stop her. He really tried. It was no use. He was powerless against her. The second her sweet lips touched his crown, pleasure washed over him, and he had to grit his teeth not to come on the spot. “Fuck. Too good.”

  She loved his cock with her mouth and her hands, tracing the engorged veins on the shaft with her tongue, lapping at his slit, torturing the living shit out of him. Then, when she’d thoroughly licked him, she took him deep into her throat.

  He jerked, cursing at the intense sensation. She couldn’t get too much of him in, but she wrapped her hands around the base of his cock while she sucked him. A lethal combination.

  Body tense as a bowstring, he covered her hands with his and, gathering the last of his self-control, stopped her. “Enough.”

  She lifted her gaze, confused. “You don’t like it?”

  She looked so damn beautiful with her dark hair cascading over her shoulders and her sweet lips puffed from giving him head, his chest hurt. “I fucking love it, but I’m on the verge of exploding, and I don’t want to come like this. I want to come with my cock deep inside your pussy and my tongue deep inside your mouth. I want to feel you wrapped all around me. I need you. Come ride me.”

  With a brief nod, she got up and straddled him. She positioned herself on top of his cock and slowly slid down on him. Her gorgeous pussy parted for him until he was engulfed in liquid heat, and so deep inside her that he could feel her heartbeat on his cock.

  He kept her still. Even though she’d come twice and was soft and wet, she was far too small and her core flexed madly to accommodate him.

  “You’re so beautiful, you take my breath away,” he whispered against her lips while his hands travelled from her waist up to her tits and cupped them. He looked her in the eye and said something he’d been dying to tell her for a while now. “I love you.”

  She stared back at him. “You do know that a declaration of love in the middle of sex is never to be taken seriously, right?”

  “Really? I didn’t know.” It was the first time he’d uttered those words to a woman outside his family.

  Slowly and without breaking eye contact, she began riding him. “Once your cock is engaged, your mouth will say anything. That’s the general idea.” Her voice was husky, her nails already digging into his shoulders. “Endorphins from sex fog men’s brains, prompting them to make hasty love declarations, easily forgotten once said dick is no longer engaged and common sense takes the reins again.”

  “I don’t need to tell you I love you to get laid.”

  “That’s true,” she replied with a smile. “Still. Not very reliable, my love.”

  He fisted her hair and nuzzled her throat. “Should I pull my cock out of you so you’ll believe me?”

  She squeezed her inner muscles tightly around him, as if afraid he’d make good on that threat. “Don’t you dare, house elf. You pull out now and I’ll kill you.”

  He chuckled at her horrified expression. For a moment he considered doing just that, but he didn’t—couldn’t, actually, because she leaned back and placed her hands on his knees, offering him the most glorious view.

  “Fuck, this is playing dirty,” he grunted, enthralled, watching as his cock disappeared inside of her and then slowly reappeared, all shiny from her juices, to once again be swallowed by her eager pussy. Those glistening, puffed-up folds stretched around him, refusing to let go. “I meant it, baby.”

  Her grin melted into a moan when he reached for her breasts and roughly stroked them. He pinched both her nipples. “You like it?” She didn’t answer, but she didn’t have to; her pussy clamped on him, hard. “Yeah, you do. What about this?” He moved one hand to her core and rubbed her clit in tight circles, adding the extra friction that this position lacked.

  She let out a ragged moan and, back bowed, dug her nails into his thighs as she began riding him harder. “More, Connor.”

  “Take your pleasure from me, baby girl.”

  Muscles bulging with tension, he fought for control. He was too close. He was going to lose it at any moment. He closed his eyes, trying to block all sensory input. It didn’t help. And he craved seeing her come, so he opened them again.

  “Give me your mouth,” he ordered.

  She repositioned herself, leaning on him, while he grabbed her ass for leverage and took over fucking her. She held on to his shoulders and whispered against his mouth, “I know you meant it. I love you too.” And she kissed him.

  That did him in. She was wrapped around him. His tongue was deep in her mouth, his cock deep in her pussy. All he could see and feel and smell was her. The woman he loved. The mother of his baby. The wave was already cresting, unstoppable, when she called out his name and came undone in his arms, her body convulsing in a strong orgasm that pulled him under.

  It took a long while for him to regain his bearings. It took much longer before he could utter words or move. He caressed her back. “And now? Nothing to tell me now?”

  He waited, but there was no response.

  She’d passed out and was softly snoring on his chest.

  He smiled to himself. He might have overdone it. “I love you,” he whispered against her hair. He knew she couldn’t hear him, but he said it nevertheless. “My dick loves you. My head loves you. My heart loves you. Even my pinkies love you. Every single part of me loves you, baby girl.”

  Still inside her, he lifted her and walked to the bedroom. Once in bed, he moved to disentangle himself from her. She murmured complaints in her sleep, but he got off the bed and watched as she rolled to her side. He couldn’t leave. Not yet. He spooned her and wrapped his arms around her, opening his hand on her stomach. He couldn’t wait to see her growing heavy with his child. She purred, as if she knew he’d come back to bed to her. He was feeling… he didn’t know how he was feeling. Panicky, probably. A good panicky, but panicky nevertheless.

  Ever since he’d been rescued, patched up, and then discharged into the civilian world, he’d felt totally lost. Worse than that: he’d thought he’d been done in. No future for him. Useless wreckage set adrift. What had happened to him, the trauma, would define him forever, and he wouldn’t get a shot at a normal existence.

  And then Audrey had waltzed into his life and turned it upside down. Now he could see a future where he was content. Whole. And it was all th
anks to her.

  He’d stay in bed with her for a second. Just for a second.

  * * *

  Audrey watched Con sleep. It was one of those rare occasions when she woke up and he was still by her side. This time he looked restless, though, as if he was having a nightmare. He was strained, sweaty. Gritting his teeth.

  So here it was, the big, bad wolf. The thing Con feared the most. He’d warned her a million times to run away if he was having a nightmare, lock herself in the bathroom. She was considering doing just that. Then it came to her: if she did, she would prove to Con he was right, and he’d spend the rest of his life escaping from their bed the second she dozed off, afraid of himself. Afraid for her. Con didn’t deserve to live afraid.

  She took a deep breath, and with new resolve, decided to stay by his side.

  She’d read enough about trauma and nightmares to know she shouldn’t wake him up. There was a better chance he would remember his dreams if he was awakened than if he continued sleeping through it.

  The nightmare seemed to be getting worse. Under his closed lids, his eyes were frantically moving, and he was muttering something unintelligible. Sweat poured off him.

  The last time he had a panic reaction, her voice had calmed him down and brought him back before he totally lost it. Now the situation seemed further along, but still, her voice might help.

  “Con, my love, you’re having a nightmare,” she gently said.

  She continued murmuring, telling him he was okay, that he was just dreaming, that she was there, and that she loved him. Her attempts didn’t help though. He looked increasingly agitated, drenched in sweat, and his limbs moved spasmodically. Not good.

  Audrey pondered how to proceed. Should she move a bit farther away not to spook him? If he woke up and found her in his face, it might make matters worse.

  She was trying to get untangled from the blanket when suddenly his body jerked. He opened his eyes—dead eyes. The same eyes he’d had that first time at the inn, when he pounced on her.