The Mountain Man’s Babies: Books 1-5

by Love, Frankie

  I carefully get out of the big rig, taking a deep breath.

  This is it. Now or never.

  I blink back tears, needing this to work.

  The truth is, I have nowhere else to go.

  Chapter Eleven

  I wake up with a hard-on. Once again I spent the night dreaming of a woman that at this point I think I made up in my head. It’s been eight months since I saw her heart-shaped face, since we laughed over pancakes, and I spread her pussy apart with my cock.

  It’s been another night of stroking myself, remembering her tight pussy, the way her tits bounced as she rode me. I can still taste her creamy release as I licked her cunt nice and thoroughly.

  Dammit, it’s been eight months. It’s time I moved on.

  But hell, forgetting Rosie is the last thing I want.

  What I really want is her, here with me.

  Her, riding me.

  I wrap my hands around my hard cock, pumping hard, coming quickly.

  My thoughts filled with her. Only her.

  As I come, there’s a knock at my door.

  What the fuck? I look at my phone, not even seven in the goddamned morning.

  I get out of bed and tug on a pair of jeans. I live in a one-story cabin, but it’s pretty roomy. It’s got three bedrooms, two baths, a hot tub out back and a kitchen that, to be perfectly honest, doesn’t get much use. Walking to the front door, I eye the fireplace, thinking I should start a fire and warm up this place, always preferring the heat from burning wood to the stale air of the radiator.

  I pull open the door and fucking forget to breathe.

  Rosie is here.

  Her face written with exhaustion, her eyes searching mine, and her belly round.

  Very round.

  Like, I’m going to have a baby now, round.

  Round like Harper was with those triplets.

  “Rosie?” I pull open door, wanting to pull her into my arms, which I know I shouldn’t want – not after she left the way she did.

  But she came back.

  She is here.

  Seemingly frozen in place.

  A single tear running down her cheek.

  “Are you okay?” I ask, knowing she’s not. She’s bundled up, but still, it’s November, not the time for her to be traipsing around in the cold. Looking behind her, I search my driveway for a car. But there’s nothing. “Are you alone?”

  She nods. “I hitchhiked here. I know,” she says, shaking her head. “It was stupid, but I didn’t know what else to do. How to get to you.”

  Taking her hand, I draw her inside, needing to understand exactly what brought her here.

  Her hand is gloved, but it’s still cold. I try to picture this sweet thing, so incredibly pregnant, riding in a stranger’s truck.

  Only desperation would drive a woman to do such a thing.

  “Rosie, you’ve gotta warm up.”

  She nods, her eyes brimming with tears. I press my thumb beneath her eyes, and wipe them away, hating to see her upset, wanting to understand her story.

  “Why did you leave all those months ago?” Of course what I really want to know is if this baby is mine.

  But dammit, one look at this broken woman and I don’t give a fuck. I will do anything for her and this child. I knew it the moment I met her, she was mine.

  She presses her lips together, her hair loose around her shoulders, and her chin quivering.

  “Shhh, it’s okay, darling.”

  Those words send a flood of tears from her eyes. “Do you have a bathroom I could use?” she asks. “I’m just a mess. I just need a second.”

  My jaw tenses. “Last time you went to the bathroom, you disappeared.”

  She nods. “I know. You have no reason to trust me, Buck.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell her, wanting her to calm down so I can hear the whole story. “You’re here now, and the bathroom is right through that door.”

  She sniffles, but turns to the bathroom. I run my hands through my hair. What the hell? This was the last thing I expected.

  Clearly, she’s a mess, worked up and scared. If I want her to open up and explain what happened after she left me, I need to help her relax. Striding to the fireplace, I add a few logs, add some kindling and strike a match.

  The fire begins to roar quickly and I head to the kitchen to start the teakettle. Girls like tea, right? Or maybe coffee. I do both. Put the kettle on a burner and brew a pot of coffee. Scouring my cupboard, I look for decent breakfast food for a pregnant woman who has been hitchhiking for God knows how long.

  I find a package of powdered donuts– not exactly gourmet, but better than cold cereal. In the fridge I have half a cantaloupe, and I slice it, setting it out as well.

  Just as the kettle begins to whistle, Rosie walks out the bathroom. She isn’t crying anymore, so that’s something. But the moment I offer her something to drink, a whole new flood of tears escapes.

  “Fuck, what did I do now?”

  “Nothing,” she says, adamant. “You did nothing wrong.”

  “Well, do you want to sit down and tell me your story? I’m guessing you’re hungry.” My eyes drop to her belly, and she must notice, because her hands cover her stomach.

  She nods, and unbuttons her coat. After taking it off, she drapes it across the back of the stool at the island where we’re standing.

  Her round belly gets my cock hard, instantly, and I lean against the counter to hide how fucking turned on I am.

  “Coffee? Tea?”

  “Coffee,” she says. “With cream.”

  “And sugar,” I finish, remembering our meal at the diner. Not ashamed one fucking bit for the fact that I memorized our encounter and have been replaying it in my mind for months. Rosie is mine. Rosie is back.

  I hand her a cup, and pour one for myself too. We sit opposite one another, and I watch her wrestle with something in her mind.

  Finally she speaks, and I mentally vow to keep my mouth shut until she is through.

  “Those men, Victor and his partner, they work for my uncle. I’d run away a few days earlier, stopped in this town and was broke. Your mom offered me a job, and I took it, not thinking I’d be found. But I was as you so clearly witnessed.”

  “Why did you run in the first place?”

  Her face is twisted, and it’s clear the memory pains her, but I’ve got to understand.

  “He wanted to sell me.”

  I nearly choke on my coffee. “Sell you?”

  She takes a deep breath, and raises her chin so her eyes meet mine. “I wasn’t honest with you, Buck, when we met.”

  My hands grip the mug tight. “How so?” I manage to ask.

  “In the bathroom, remember, I told you I wasn’t a virgin?”

  In a flash I’m back there with her, her legs wrapped around my waist, her back against the door, her tits in my mouth. Damn, this woman makes my skin hot and my cock pulse.

  “Well I lied,” she says. “I was a virgin. That’s why my uncle thought he could get a good price if he sold me as a bride to a man in Russia. I couldn’t do that. So I ran away. And I thought – foolishly – that if I was used then my uncle would let me go, let me be free.” She covers her face.

  I stand, anger coursing through me. Who is this motherfucker who thinks Rosie’s life has a price?

  She is priceless. I knew that the moment I met her.

  I pull her in my arms, and she sobs against me, her belly between us. Still, I can hold her close.

  “But you left with your uncle’s men?” I ask, holding her against my chest.

  “I had to, Buck. They are relentless.” She looks up at me. “They knew where I was, and they weren’t going to go home without me. The fight was over. They’d won. The last thing I wanted was to pull you and your wonderful parents into my mess.”

  “Rosie, they are criminals. You’ve been with them this whole time?”

  “That’s the thing, Buck. The moment I got back I knew the idea of telling my uncle that you’d
made love to me was a mistake. This whole idea I hatched in a moment, was a bad one. If I told him I was no longer a virgin, he would have hunted you down.”

  I shake my head. “But Rosie, clearly you’re not a virgin anymore,” I say looking at her stomach.

  “Once I couldn’t hide it any longer, he took me to a doctor, who confirmed my pregnancy. I thought maybe it was an answer to prayer, the thing that would set me free.”

  “It wasn’t?”

  She wipes her eyes. “No, Buck. It wasn’t. I was pregnant but it didn’t solve my problems.”

  My stomach drops, and I hope like hell what she tells me next is that I’m the father.

  It’s all I’ve ever wanted. A wife and a child. And standing before me is everything on earth I desire.

  I want this dream come true to be mine.

  “My uncle told me that this pregnancy was better than a virgin bride. That he could get more money for a fetus than he could for my body. That’s the word he used, fetus. Like a child isn’t a living, breathing thing. So he didn’t toss me out on the street like I’d hoped. Suddenly I was more valuable than I’d ever been.”

  My heart races. A baby. Rosie a mother.

  Still, I wait for her to tell me the thing I need to know.

  “I was biding my time, wanting to wait to leave until I was really close to delivery, thinking if I had the babies away from him, then we’d be safe. A doctor would never let me leave the hospital – with empty arms – against my wishes, and I could tell a social worker my story. That’s why I came here, now.”

  Rosie has been through so much, and I hate that I have to ask, but I need to know.

  “Rosie,” I start. “The baby, though. Who–”

  She presses her hands to my mouth. “Don’t ask me that, Buck. The question breaks my heart, the idea that you’d think I had been with anyone else.” She shakes her head. “You’re the father, Buck. You. It’s only been you.”

  My eyes are on Rosie, and I swear to God they will never falter. This pregnant woman is a fucking saint. Sent from heaven just for me. And I’ll worship her pussy everyday of my goddamned life.

  I pull her in my arms, and I kiss her like I dreamt about for so long.

  She left, sure, but she came back.

  Rosie is my woman and I’ll make her my wife.

  Chapter Twelve

  Buck’s lips press against mine and I let his hands run down my back, to my ass.

  “Oh God, woman,” he growls in my ear. “You look so fucking hot with your belly so round, your tits so big.”

  I kiss his neck, the tears still wet on my cheeks. I didn’t tell him that I was pregnant with twins, I thought it would be way too much for him to accept. I’m just grateful a pregnancy isn’t scaring him away.

  It’s actually the opposite. He wants me, badly. And I want him, worse.

  “I’ve wanted this every day since I left,” I moan. “I’ve been dreaming of your hands on me, and in me, all over me. I’ve dreamed of you making love to me all day and all night.”

  Inhaling him, I feel like I am home – he smells like fresh air and sunshine and flannel sheets and man. All man. A man who isn’t backing away, a man who is claiming me as his own.

  He runs his hands over my hard nipples, plucking at them through my sweater. My pussy is so wet, so needy, and I press my hand against his groin, and moan at the hardness of his cock. The memory of the length, the girth, seared into my mind.

  There is no way in hell I could have forgotten him and I hate that I ever left. That I ruined what should have been a blissful nine months of growing his babies. I had to leave, but God, I wish I hadn’t.

  “Buck,” I groan. “I’m so sorry. It isn’t fair that you didn’t know about the pregnancy.”

  “Shh,” he whispers, pulling my face back to his. “Let me kiss your tears away, let me make you happy you’re here, now.”

  I sink into his kisses, and he pulls me down the hall to a bedroom. The bed is unmade, and I know he must have just climbed out of it when I knocked on his door.

  “I was so scared you’d have another woman here.”

  He snorts, lifting the hem of my sweater. “No other woman, not since you left. I’ve been waiting for you.” I raise my hands, and he pulls off the sweater, tossing it aside. He unclasps my bra from behind and my much-larger-than-last-time breasts fall from the cups.

  He lifts one to his mouth, softly licking my nipple, in a circle, not rushing it at all. He rolls my breasts in his hands, then kissing me hard, his tongue filling my mouth, penetrating every part of me. My mouth widens, parting for him. When he steps away the look in his eye tells me this is going to get hotter, deeper, wetter – fast.

  His eyes take in my bare belly, and for a moment I feel self-conscious, my stomach is huge, with glossy stretch marks crisscrossing my flesh. These twins are growing at an incredible rate, everyday I wake to them moving, kicking and doing cartwheels, and I wonder what it will be like when they are no longer confined to my womb. What it will be like when they are in my arms.

  I look down at Buck; he’s dropped to his knees, and his hands run over my skin.

  “Rosie, marry me.” He kisses my belly, and I swallow my sobs. Buck is a real man, and he knows how to love a woman.

  I don’t deserve him. I hardly know him.

  And now I am supposed to make a life with him?

  I shake my head, scared.

  “Buck.” I grab his hands. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know enough.”

  “I come from a bad place, with bad people, and you ... you are so completely good. True. Kind.”

  “You don’t think you deserve that sort of love?” He asks, standing. “You don’t think our child does?”

  I pull away from him, overwhelmed at the gesture, the willingness to step up and commit. “Buck, you could wake up a week or a month or a year from now and realize your lying next to a stranger. You’d feel trapped. I can’t do that to you. How can you commit to me when you don’t know a thing about me?”

  “I know enough,” he says, pulling me toward him, pulling down my leggings. His hand plunges down the front of me, into my wet, warm pussy. His fingers thrust against my walls, causing me to gasp for breath.

  “I know you like it when my fingers touch your soft, swollen skin. I know you like it when I move them up and down, over you little clit, as your pussy soaks my hand with your release. I know that you’ve been dreaming about taking my cock between your lips, about me coming in your mouth.” He flicks his fingers over me, and my knees grow weak, my breath short and hot. My body on fire.

  “Oh, my God, I’m going to come.” My fingers grip his shoulder, my pussy pulsing as ripples of pleasure cover me. “Oh,” I cry, overwhelmed at the way his touch slays me. I try to catch my breath, and I do, Buck bends, picks me up, and carries me to the bed.

  “Stay on the bed, darlin’,” he tells me.

  I sink into the pillows, knowing I couldn’t sit up if I tried. All of a sudden exhaustion covers me. I spent so long dreaming of this moment, and now it’s here. He pulls down my leggings, my panties, leaving my pussy in plain sight. The look in his eyes, his hunger, need, desire – is all wrapped up in me. I feel powerful, wanted.

  His.

  He presses his fingers deep inside me again, as if touching me this way is his favorite thing in the world.

  “Your pussy is so wet, so ready.”

  I nod, panting. “So ready for you.”

  I watch Buck take off his pants, his massive cock erect and hard, pointing up, telling the entire world what it wants.

  Me.

  “Turn around, darlin’,” he tells me. “I need to see your ass.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I know I’m not going to climb on top of this woman, not when she is pregnant. So I tell her to get on all fours. Sure, her belly is swollen with child, her breasts full, and has the face of an angel, but from behind she’s a devil with an ass just begging to be fucked.

&
nbsp; She bites her bottom lip and turns her head, her eyes raised, her ass in the air, at the edge of the bed.

  I stroke my shaft, stepping toward her.

  “You want my cock in you?” I ask, cupping her breasts, forcing her to sit up on her knees. She whimpers in pleasure, my cock grinding against her ass.

  “I do, Buck. I want you in me so bad.”

  I want her pussy but I also want her ass.

  Today, I’ll have them both.

  I press my palm on the small of her back, guiding her back on all fours, and rub my cock along her wet slit. She moans in pleasure, and I ease my cock inside of her.

  “Oh, yeah, oh, please,” she begs. “It feels so good, Buck.”

  I close my eyes, thanking my fucking lucky stars. I hold my woman at her waist, filling her sweet pussy with everything I have to offer.

  She’s getting off fast, and I love that, love that I can make her moan in ecstasy in two minutes flat.

  “What are you doing to me?”

  Before I can answer she’s moaning some more.

  “Ohhhh,” she cries, and her hands grip the sheets, and her body stills, her pussy tight around me as her moaning slows to a soft purr; like a kitty cat, this girl wants to be tamed.

  “I’m gonna come in your little pussy,” I tell her, pulling her hair until she’s sitting up on her knees, my cock pounding her, her long hair wrapped around my fist. In her ear I breathe hot air, and she’s cooing in no time, as I pump hard against her ass until I’m ready to come.

  “Let me taste you,” she says, stopping me before I lose my load. “Let me taste your come.”

  I didn’t see this coming, but in a matter of seconds she eases off me, and turns, so she sits on the edge of the bed, her mouth open wide, the intensity in her desire keeping me fucking rock hard.

  “You sure, Rosie?” I would have thought sucking my cock would intimidate this sweet woman, who’s only been fucked once before. By me. Her pussy was saved for me, and no other man will ever have it.

  Only over my dead body.

  “I’m sure,” she says, her mouth already widening to take me. Her lips wrap around my cock, her tongue rolling in circles around me. Sucking me hard, sucking me off.