My Mom's Fiance: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  I ground my mouth down on hers then because this was the answer to my dreams. By dating an older woman, a woman who knew herself, who was fully fleshed out and developed, I’d come out with more than I could ever hope for. Marie wanted to be pregnant with my baby, and that was a gift in and of itself, so precious, so truly amazing that my mind spun, dizzy with lust for her, dizzy with love and anticipation. But even more, the brunette had the maturity, the grit, the determination coupled with a womanly softness, a womanly knowing, to power through difficult times. Because no, my career wouldn’t stop even if my girl was pregnant. I couldn’t just hop off the team bus with a “Sayonara,” flashing a peace sign. I, too, had to power through this intense time of my career, a turning point as I proved myself in the hopes of hitting the majors. So shit, yeah, I was grateful for my woman, for the amazing female in my arms, for her understanding, her ability to compromise, her graceful manner as she walked this path with me.

  And fuck, but I was going to try and make it sweet for Marie. I was going to do everything in my power to take care of my woman, to take care of our future child, to make sure that they had everything they ever needed or wanted. Because the beautiful female belonged to me and I belonged to her too. It was crazy, unfathomable, how we’d gotten together after a one-night stand in a bar, only to realize that she was Robbie’s mom at that, and trying to get pregnant too. But against all odds, it had happened. Against all odds, I’d been blessed beyond my wildest dreams. Because I’d fallen for my best friend’s mom, she’d fallen for me, and it was the best falling that had ever happened, our hearts full, our souls one.

  EPILOGUE

  Marie

  “Oh shit,” he ground out. “You sure?”

  I giggled then, running a small hand up that sculpted back, loving how Trent was so huge, so gorgeous, hard, tight muscle everywhere. And right now, he was turning on his hands and knees so that I was behind him, my head close up behind his ass.

  “I want to,” I purred. “You’ve done it to me so many times and I’ve never done it to you. Besides, I’m so huge we can’t have regular sex so it’s time to improvise.”

  And Trent grunted in front of me, big body tense, hard, painfully aroused, his huge, hot shaft dripping onto the bedspread. I loved seeing him like this, there was something so arousing about seeing an alpha male in this vulnerable position, all six four of him naked, bronze skin gleaming, as he knelt on the bed.

  “Do it then,” he ground out. “Do it baby.”

  And leaning forward, I parted his ass cheeks and licked his asshole, savoring my first taste of Trent’s anus. It was different for sure. I’ve had dick in my mouth plenty of times, tasting the soft skin, the hard fullness, the musky scent that was all Trent and a hundred percent male. But I’ve never been in back before, never rimmed him, despite the fact that he kissed my tiny asshole all the time, even pushing his tongue in, savoring my back channel. I don’t know why I’d never reciprocated, why I never thought to do it to my man until now.

  Because I’m heavily pregnant with our first child now. Oh yeah, she’s coming in a couple weeks and the doctor said no sex until delivery, and then no sex for six weeks after that. No sex? How were Trent and I going to live? Because whenever we’re together, we’re in one another, his dick drilling me deep, taking me, owning me, savoring the hot softness, my welcoming holes.

  But I guess it’s not that bad because Trent travels, so we’re used to hot phone sex, even some on-line video sessions, me playing with dildos, the big man jerking off onto his keyboard. It was just the thought of being together, literally in person, and yet unable to have dick in me that made me crazy.

  But this was a great time to explore the unknown. Because my ob/gyn said no penis in pussy, no penis in ass, sure, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other ways. So right now, we were exploring those other ways, and I was gonna do my first rusty trombone.

  Pulling his ass cheeks apart again, I touched the tip of my tongue to his pucker, the pleats so tight, beckoning to me, the smell of Trent’s musk enveloping me, making me course with desire, my pussy dripping, lusting for him.

  “Awww shit,” he grunted as my tongue tested his hole, seeing how far it could go. “Awww fuck.”

  And I giggled again. I wanted it all, wanted to taste all of him, so prying his butt cheeks apart, I looked deep into that rusty star again and swooped in for another taste. This time I was more insistent, making my tongue into a spear and going for it, burrowing my chin in deep, pressing my face as far as it could go. And with a tiny slither, a sneaky slip, I was in. I was fucking Trent’s butt with my tongue, tasting the inside of his anus, and oh god, but it was good. I loved the dryness, the big man tensing involuntarily, grunting with pleasure as a sheen of sweat broke over that bronzed skin, his arms and legs trembling from arousal, from how fucking dirty this was.

  “Fuck baby,” he panted. “Fuck, what you do to me.”

  But I wasn’t done yet. As I pressed my tongue into him, my small hands caressed his thighs, slowly grazing that hard flesh, loving the muscular tree trunks, how strong he was. And they drifted up his sensitive inner thighs until I was cupping his balls, the velvety sacks huge and pendulous, giving them a slight squeeze before moving to the main prize. Because I wanted his dick. My hands trailed lightly over his hard length, testing the hole at the top, smearing the wetness already there before circling the fuckpole with one small fist and slowly going up and down, up and down, gripping him, giving him a good ride.

  “Oh fuck baby,” Trent ground out this time, big body literally shaking. “Keep that up and I’m gonna fucking come.”

  I giggled slightly despite the fact that my face was still in his behind. Because that’s exactly what I wanted. I wanted Trent to come so hard, so fast, so furious even though I couldn’t take him in my pussy or ass at the moment. I wanted him to have the ride of his life, for that big body to give it up, to reward me with sweet, hot lashes of semen, the virile DNA that was going to make me into a mommy again.

  Because yes, the addition to our family was very much wanted, even by my son Robbie. Robbie had been shocked, sure, but not absolutely stunned, blown to the moon. And that had surprised me. We’d been in the kitchen when I broke the news that I was dating his best friend from college.

  Robbie had paused mid-swig at the milk carton. That boy was always drinking straight from the jug, he’d never learn, and I’d sighed, exasperated. But this wasn’t the time to take it up.

  “I wanted you to know,” I said firmly. “I wanted you to be the first to know that Trent and I are dating … we’re lovers,” I said with finality. There was no sense in beating around the bush, making like all we did was hold hands and giggle. Oh god no. My lover was in me every which way until Wednesday and I absolutely needed it, I needed that big body to own me, to possess me.

  Robbie paused, shooting me a glance.

  “Seriously Mom? With Trent? Are you sure?”

  I sighed, huffing a little.

  “Of course I’m sure,” I said firmly again. “Your friend. Your best friend, Trent Markham.”

  And my son rolled his eyes.

  “Of course I know who he is, it just seems a little weird to say the least. You’re my mom and you’re Trent’s what? Girlfriend?” he said incredulously.

  This was the perfect time to make my point, to push the realization home, the nail in the coffin.

  “Yes. Exactly. I’m Trent’s girlfriend. And we’re trying to get pregnant,” I added. Might as well go from the frying pan to the fire, there was no sense in holding back.

  And Robbie was surprised at that one, really shocked.

  “But aren’t you too old?” he asked, looking at me with goggly eyes. “I mean, Mom, you’re like forty and isn’t that over the hill? It’s a little late, don’t you think?”

  I sighed. Trust my son to be insulting without even meaning to. Kids these days, they don’t hold back.

  “Yes, I’m forty, but there’s still time, it’s not too late,
” I said, keeping my voice even. “And Trent and I, we’ve decided we want a baby, so we’re going for it.”

  Robbie took it with surprising grace, surprising equanimity.

  “Well, if that’s what you want,” he said slowly. “I’ve wanted you to find someone, you know ever since Dad left …” his voice trailed off.

  And I shook my head.

  “Honey, this is nothing like your Dad. Trent is different, your dad and I never should have gotten married, we were nineteen when we tied the knot and I was already pregnant with you. But things are different now. I’m a woman, and Trent is a man who knows his mind, we want this baby and it’s the right thing to do.”

  Robbie showed amazing maturity then.

  “I know you and Dad didn’t expect to have me so soon, it was kinda a shotgun type thing,” he said slowly. “And I want you to be happy Mom. You always made me feel loved despite everything, you were always there for me growing up, through high school, even in college,” he said wryly. “Even when we struggled, you were always there, so if this is what you want, then I’m happy for you. But I’m still gonna ask Trent about it, this is my best friend, and you have to admit, this is weird as shit. I gotta talk to him.”

  I merely nodded, sure of myself. Because Trent is an alpha male, confident, sure of himself, and hell, he wanted a baby even more than I did. So their conversation was going to be positive, I was certain. Maybe not smooth sailing all the way, not with the tough questions and inevitable answers, but I knew my man had my back, that we were in this together, that we were lovers with a future, supporting one another, walking the path of life hand in hand.

  And I turned my attention back to Trent now. Because yeah, the conversation with my son had gone fine, and against all odds, my lover got a call from a team in Miami. It was a mix of shock and elation, like fireworks you’d hoped for, but never expected. He’d told me so many times that it was a one in a million chance, that so few guys ever made it to the big leagues from the minors. But he’d done it. He’d stuck it out, nose to the grindstone, working hard, improving his strength, speed, coordination, and agility. And now we were moving to Miami together, living in a big house, just waiting for the birth of our daughter.

  And I was so happy, I had to show him again how much I appreciated this, how much I loved our life together, everything the big man had to offer. So I pulled harder on his dick, running my hands up and down his huge shaft, loving the veiny feel, loving how there was so much pre-cum that my hand squelched a little, small sucking sounds that were so dirty yet so arousing. And the alpha grunted again, on his knees still, panting as I fisted him, hips jerking reflexively as his balls rose high and tight.

  But Trent knew what he wanted and ground out his command.

  “Rim me baby, taste my ass until I come.”

  And I obeyed, loving the dirtiness, the nastiness, wanting to give him all that I could. My pussy dripped hotly, cream smearing my thighs, but I knew Trent would take care of me after he came, he never leaves me hanging. So I pressed my head to his anus again and flicked lightly against the opening as my hands moved up and down his fuckpole faster, the hard rod twitching, beginning to spasm as a low rumble sounded from Trent’s chest.

  And as my hand blurred, pleasuring him, my tongue delving deep into his hot backside, it happened. The big body beneath me quivered then jerked, once, twice, the rod in my hands going completely still before spasming with hot lust, gust after gust of semen coating my hands, spurting hotly onto the coverlet, the evidence of his virility, the white, sticky goo everything that I wanted, the world to me.

  And I ate it all as he came hard. I burrowed my mouth even deeper into his ass, feeling his anal walls contract around my tongue as he gave it up, big body shaking, the man roaring as I tasted his ass while fisting his dick. And it was so good, so hot, that I came as well unexpectedly, without him touching me. I didn’t think it would happen, I’d thought he’d have to put his fingers in me, lick my pussy a bit to bring me to climax, but there’s always something new in our loving. We’re so attuned to one another, the least sensation triggering a reciprocal sensation in the other that giving him pleasure gives me pleasure as well, and my pussy clenched and spasmed on its own, cream gushing from my hole as I cried out into his ass, long, lusty sighs ringing out.

  “Oh!” I moaned, my body quivering as electricity made my cunt spasm hard, clenching and clamping with desire. “Oh!”

  And Trent was lost as well.

  “Fuck baby, fuck fuck fuck,” he ground out. “FUCK!”

  So we came simultaneously, our bodies moving, shaking with one another, bound together by lust, by love, and by the new addition to our family. Because nothing is perfect in life. We’d done the unthinkable, overcoming a twenty year age gap to find each other, to find one another in the darkness of the night, only to bring it into the open now. And we wanted the world to know. Trent Markham, MLB player, had a girlfriend who was his senior, and we were expecting a baby to boot. Trent Markham, who was now a star with a multi-million dollar contract and a mansion in Miami, was having a baby with the woman he loved. And the best part? It would never end. Because my lover and I are bound together, we’re halves of the same whole, he’s made me his and I’ve made him mine … and he’s not just my son’s best friend, but he’s my best friend, my lover, my man, my everything, always.

  THE END

  (Please turn the page for a sneak peek at my hot new release!)

  A SNEAK PEEK

  SOLD AT THE AUCTION

  By Cassandra Dee

  CHAPTER ONE

  Ellie

  “Seriously El, you can’t wear that,” said my friend Rachel.

  I looked back at her, a little miffed.

  “Why not?” I asked plaintively. The jeans I had on were nice, a dark denim wash, and I’d paired them with a long-sleeve top, crushed velvet with a scoop-neck. “Looks okay to me.”

  Rachel snorted.

  “Seriously El, we’re in Vegas for the week. We’re going clubbing at a place that doesn’t even have a name, it’s so hot. You can’t wear the stuff you usually do, now take it off,” she commanded.

  I thought about refusing flat out, putting down my foot and digging in. But the thing is my friend is the one with the fashion sense, Rachel always looks amazing, knowing exactly how to do herself up for every occasion. In comparison, I was a little frumpy, dazed and confused most times, my brown hair unfashionably curly, my curves unfashionably round. So yes, I got invited to good parties because I was Rachel’s friend, but I didn’t look like any of them, skinny minnies all.

  And frankly, it was amazing that Rachel and I are friends at all because we’re so different, she’s swan-like, thin and elegant, with a modeling portfolio, whereas I’m round and small, an A-student. So our interests are poles apart, not to mention our paths in life. But we’ve known one another since we were five, and have seen one another through thick and thin again and again. Take last year, for example, when Rachel’s parents got divorced. I was her confidante, her therapist, and her anchor when she was lost at sea, adrift on waves of sadness. And I know she’d do the same for me if our situations were reversed. So despite the fact that outwardly, it looks like we have nothing in common, in fact we have a bond that goes deep, far further than mere clothes or personalities would suggest.

  And since my body changed, my friend’s fashion advice was even more important. Because gone was the old Ellie from two years ago, an underweight mouse shaped like a broomstick, and in her place was the body of a woman, like Venus de Milo incarnate. I have big boobs now, a huge ass that sways when I walk, and generous hips making it hard to fit any type of pants. In fact, it’d been a struggle getting into my jeans tonight, I’d had to hop up and down desperately a couple times before they squeezed on, and the button was threatening to pop off any second.

  So I sighed again.

  “I don’t have anything else,” I repeated plaintively, gesturing with open palms. “There’s nothing else, look at
my suitcase, nothing, nada.” And flipping open the purple travel case to reveal the interior was uninspiring. There was nothing haute couture or racy, just a couple more colored tops and a pair of grey jeans to mix things up.

  Rachel pulled a face.

  “Really, you didn’t bring a dress? Something a little slinkier?” she asked, picking through the stuff in my bag.

  I shook my head.

  “Nope, you know I don’t wear dresses that often,” I reminded her. “I’m more of a tomboy.”

  Rach pulled another face.

  “Tomboy, schmomboy, El, you’ve got a body now that’s decidedly not tomboyish anymore,” she emphasized. “Come on, you’re gonna have to wear something of mine then.” And with that she began pawing through her things, flipping through the closet where she’d hung a million outfits, each one colorful and gaudy, some even with pom-poms and sequins.

  “No, Rach, no,” I pleaded. Even if I wore something of my friend’s, we weren’t the same size, not even close. My blonde friend was your typical petite vixen, about five one and a size zero. Whereas now, I was up to a size fourteen, maybe. Possibly a sixteen, it depended on what I’d had for breakfast, or sometimes dinner the night before. There was no way I could squeeze into one of Rachel’s outfits, I’d rip it at the seams like a juicy tomato busting out.

  But my friend couldn’t be deterred.

  “How about this one?” she asked brightly, pulling a dress out of the closet.

  I groaned. It was terrible, all psychedelic colors, oranges swirling with purples, great big globs of green here and there.

  “No Rach,” I said firmly. “Absolutely not, I’m getting a headache just looking at it.”