Cowboy Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Romance Compilation)

by Claire Adams

  We moved together, finding a rhythm that drove us to the edge of climax before slowing down and extending the delicious tension that continued to build. Blake’s hands cupped my breasts, and I moaned into his lips as he squeezed my nipples into two erect points. I rocked on him as he thrust his hips upward, driving me closer and closer to the edge, and then, in a moment, I felt the flood of release moving from inside out.

  “Blake!” I cried, as I felt my whole body awash with the intensity of orgasm. My pulsing brought Blake to climax seconds later, and I felt him tense and then release. He held me tightly as he throbbed inside me. I moved my hips in small circles, feeling the last waves move through me.

  Neither one of us spoke. Blake wrapped his arms around me as I lay across his chest. He was solid and warm, and for the first time in a long time, I felt safe and secure. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply as I listened to his heartbeat return to normal.

  “Emily? Are you okay?” Blake whispered, as he pushed a strand of hair off my face.

  “Mmmm hmm,” I murmured, not wanting to move from my warm spot of safety and satisfaction.

  “That was amazing,” he said, as he kissed my forehead.

  “It really was,” I echoed, as I tipped my chin so I could look into his eyes. He smiled and kissed me again.

  “I would love nothing more than to lay here and keep doing this all day,” he said, as I nodded. “But we do have to get over to my parents’ house.”

  “Oh my gosh!” I cried. “We’re going to be so late! I’m sorry!”

  “Shhh, shhh,” he chuckled, as he pulled me down and kissed me tenderly. “It’s all good. I’m never on time, so they won’t be expecting me for another hour.”

  “Oh, well then…” I said, flashing him a sexy grin that told him exactly what I was thinking.

  “Oh no!” he laughed loudly. “We need to get dressed, you temptress!”

  Blake kissed me once more and then sat up before I slid off of his lap and made a dash for the bathroom. I turned on the water, stepped into the large bathtub, and gasped as Blake followed. We spent the next half hour teasing each other as we slid our slick, soap-coated hands over each other’s bodies, exploring every inch and working ourselves into a state of arousal that could only be sated by melding our wet bodies on the bathroom floor.

  When we finally closed the front door and headed for the truck, I felt a warm glow radiating from me that had very little to do with the holiday season. Blake smiled at me as he opened the truck door and helped me in.

  “Merry Christmas, Emily,” he said, as he kissed me lightly. A smile spread across my lips as I whispered, “Merry Christmas, indeed, Blake.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Blake

  I hadn’t called ahead to tell my parents that I was bringing a guest to our Christmas celebration, but I didn’t worry because in my family, there was always room for one more at the table. Emily looked apprehensive as we pulled into the drive, but I smiled reassuringly and squeezed her hand before we headed into the house.

  “Merry Christmas, Blake!” my mother called from the kitchen as Emily and I entered through the front door.

  “How did you know it was me?” I laughed, as I slipped off my boots and hung our coats in the front hall closet.

  “Because I’m already here, dumbass,” Brian said, as he emerged from the kitchen licking a spatula covered in what looked like cake batter.

  “No fair, Mom!” I protested, as I crossed the room and tried to wrestle the spatula from my brother’s hand. Brian held it high above his head, and as I reached for it, he flung batter against the wall and across the floor.

  “Brian and Blake!” my mother yelled, as she came out of the kitchen just in time to witness the mess being made. “What did I tell you two about messing up my…oh, hello! Who is this, Blake?”

  “Mom, this is Emily Fowler; she’s Nina’s History teacher,” I said, as my mother raised an eyebrow and then immediately stepped forward to welcome Emily into her home.

  “Emily, it’s so nice to meet you. Blake didn’t tell us he’d be bringing a friend,” my mother said, extending her hand. “Merry Christmas, and welcome to our home!”

  “Thank you so much, Mrs. Gaston,” Emily said, shyly shaking my mother’s offered hand. “I…I…I…”

  “Emily lost her house in a fire this morning, Mom,” I said, cutting into Emily’s attempt to explain why she was joining us on such short notice. My mother’s eyes widened, and I could tell she was reassessing the situation.

  “Oh my goodness, you poor thing! Please, call me Ellie,” my mother said. “You lost everything?”

  “Uh huh,” Emily nodded, looking down before adding, “except my cat. Blake saved him.”

  “I’m so sorry,” my mother said, as she wrapped an arm around Emily’s waist and pulled her toward the kitchen saying, “Why don’t you come help me prepare dinner and let the boys set the table.”

  “Awww, Mom,” Brian and I whined in unison.

  “Don’t aww, Mom me,” my mother scolded. “You know where everything is. Get the table set and get your father out of the basement before you watch your games!”

  Brian and I headed into the dining room and began pulling out the silverware and dishes that my mother saved for holiday meals and celebrations. We knew that setting the table would be infinitely easier than getting Dad out of his basement hideaway, and we also knew, from experience, that our mother wouldn’t let us get away with shirking our duties.

  “So, you’re hot for teacher,” Brian said, as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

  “Oh, shut up,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I felt bad for her. She didn’t have anywhere to go, and it’s Christmas, for God’s sake.”

  “It doesn’t hurt that she’s incredibly attractive,” Brian shot back. “I’m sure that had absolutely nothing to do with your invitation.”

  “Okay, fine, she’s attractive, and I’m attracted to her,” I grumbled, as we spread the tablecloth my mother had left out and began setting the table. “I’ve been attracted to her for a while, if you must know.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yeah,” I said, as I used the edge of the tablecloth to polish a fork that looked dull.

  “Don’t you boys use the tablecloth to polish the silverware! If you need a cloth, I’ve got one in the kitchen!” my mother shouted, from out of nowhere.

  “How the hell does she do that?” Brian said, whipping his head around in time to see my mother walking into the dining room holding out a polishing cloth.

  “I’m not kidding,” she warned.

  Brian and I finished the task without saying another word, and then went downstairs to find our father. He was sitting on a stool behind his workbench carving a piece of wood with a small penknife. A cerebral man by training, he’d taken up woodcarving during the year that my parents had spent traveling in South America, and had made a habit of sequestering himself in the basement when he was working on a project.

  “What are you working on these days, Dad?” I asked, as I snuck a peek at the small figures lined up on his workbench.

  “I’m making a Nativity scene for your mother,” he said, carefully blowing the shavings off of what looked like a small cradle. “I’d intended to have it done well before today, but, well…”

  He trailed off as he bent his head and applied the knife to the wood in silence. Brian and I watched him for a few minutes before we both grew restless.

  “Blake brought a date to Christmas dinner,” Brian blurted out.

  “Hmm, that’s nice,” my father said, without looking up. “Who is she?”

  “He rescued her from a fire this morning,” Brian said, before I punched him in the shoulder. “Ouch! It’s true! Why are you punching me?”

  “Because you’re a jerk,” I said, shooting him a warning look. “She’s Nina’s History teacher, and she didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

  “Hmmm, well, that’s nice of you,” my father said. “I’m sure your moth
er will be happy for a bit of female company this year.”

  My father lapsed into silence again as he worked on his belated gift, and after awhile, Brian nudged me and tilted his head toward the stairs. I nodded and followed him up to the den, where we turned on the football game. I went into the kitchen to grab a couple of beers and saw that Emily and my mother were silently working on putting together a salad.

  “We’re watching the game, if you’re interested,” I said casually.

  “The Patriots and the Jets or the Falcons and the Packers?” Emily asked.

  “Patriots and Jets,” I said.

  “There’s no way the Jets are going to beat them,” she replied. “They’ve got a weak defense, and their quarterback has a bad arm. The Patriots are going to take it all the way this year.”

  “You like football?” I asked, surprised.

  “Actually, the Celtics are my favorite team, but they never play on holidays,” she smiled, as she added several sliced tomatoes to the bowl of lettuce.

  “Why don’t you go watch the game with the boys, Emily,” my mother said, giving me a hard look. “You’ve had a rough day and could probably use a break.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind helping out,” Emily said, even though I could see the weariness in her eyes.

  “Nonsense, if I need help, one of my devoted sons can take care of the task,” my mother said, raising an eyebrow. I nodded in understanding.

  “BRIAN! MOM NEEDS YOUR HELP!” I yelled from the kitchen, sending both Emily and my mother into a fit of laughter.

  “No fair!” came my brother’s indignant response. “I always have to do everything around here!”

  I handed Emily one of the open beers and motioned for her to follow me into the den. Alone now, I put my arm around her and felt her shift so that she was leaning against me. Neither of us said a word as we watched the game and drank our beers.

  Around halftime, I heard a car pull into the driveway, and I got up to go greet Nina and let her know that Emily was here. From the front door, I could see Remy sternly lecturing Nina, who sat staring out the passenger side window with her jaw set in defiance. I waved and saw Nina’s eyes light up as she turned and said something to her mother before quickly exiting the car. She grabbed her bag out of the back seat and slammed the door harder than necessary. I waved at Remy and saw the disapproving look on her face as she backed out and drove away.

  “Hey kiddo,” I said, kissing the top of Nina’s head as I grabbed her bag. “You okay?”

  “What do you think?” she asked in a flat tone.

  “Yeah,” I nodded, as I wrapped an arm around her and headed for the house. “Hey, we’ve got a guest for dinner.”

  “Oh yeah?” Nina perked up.

  “Your History teacher, Ms. Fowler,” I said quickly.

  “Are you serious, Dad?” Nina asked, stopping dead in her tracks. “Tell me you're pulling my leg.”

  “I’m not, kiddo,” I said, shaking my head. “Her house burned down this morning, and she didn’t have anywhere else to go, so I asked her to join us for dinner.”

  “Just fucking great,” Nina muttered.

  “Nina!” I warned.

  “Fine, I’ll be nice, but between you and Mom this holiday seriously blows,” she said, angrily storming up the walk into the house.

  I followed her inside and watched as she grudgingly welcomed Emily before heading into the kitchen to find her grandmother. I shrugged at Emily, who smiled and shrugged back.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Emily

  I watched as Nina hugged her uncle and called out to her grandmother as she entered the kitchen. Blake shrugged at me, and I smiled and shrugged back. I knew it couldn’t be easy for a teenager to welcome her teacher into her home, on a holiday, nonetheless, and I was more than well aware that I was a complete stranger to the Gaston family.

  “Is that my granddaughter I hear stomping through my kitchen?” Blake’s father called, as he emerged from the basement.

  “Gramps, I don’t stomp!” Nina laughed, as she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. “Merry Christmas, Gramps!”

  “Merry Christmas, Punkin Pie!” her grandfather said, as he hugged her tightly. When Nina let go and stepped back, he looked over her shoulder and caught sight of me. “Well, who do we have here?”

  “Dad, this is Emily Fowler,” Blake said, stepping closer to me as his father walked across the room. “Emily, this is my father, Alan Gaston.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Gaston,” I said, offering my hand.

  “It’s Dr. Gaston,” Nina muttered, as she shot me a look that bordered on nasty.

  “Oh, don’t be ridiculous; degrees are degrees,” Blake’s father said, shaking my hand as he leaned forward and added, “Thermometers have degrees, and you know where we stick those. Please, call me Alan.”

  “Merry Christmas, Alan,” I said, looking nervously at Blake, who smiled and nodded reassuringly. I smiled back and said, “Thank you for letting me join you for dinner.”

  “It’s our pleasure, Emily,” Alan said, as Brian emerged from the kitchen carrying several cold bottles of beer. He gave one to his father and offered the others to Blake and I. “What brings you to our table this evening? Were you not able to make it home to your family today?”

  I inhaled sharply and tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make everyone in the room look at me with pity. The words caught in my throat, and I felt the lump rising as tears began to well up.

  “Emily lost her house in a fire this morning, Dad,” Blake quickly offered. “I thought she’d be better off having dinner with us than hanging out in a hotel room alone today.”

  “Oh my goodness, what a terrible thing to have happen on Christmas day!” Alan exclaimed. “I’m glad my son brought you here. We’ll feed you well!”

  “Thank you,” I nodded. I swallowed hard and then said, “It’s wonderful to be around such a warm and happy family today. It makes it feel a little more festive.”

  “Dinner is served!” Ellie cheerfully announced, as she placed a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes on the table before returning to get the turkey.

  I hung back as the family headed to the table until Blake smiled and gestured for me to take the chair next to him. Nina sat across the table from me and pointedly avoided looking at me as everyone took their seats. Alan reached out and took his sons’ hands, and soon we were all holding hands as Alan said a blessing.

  “We’re so happy that we could have our whole family here for this wonderful celebration and this delicious meal,” he began. Blake’s hand was warm in mine, and I felt a tingle of electricity pass between us. I knew he felt it too when he squeezed my hand as his father continued, “We’re thankful that Emily could join us today even though the reason is not cause for celebration. We’re thankful for all that we have and all that we enjoy, but mostly we’re thankful for our loving family and the opportunity to spend time together. Amen.”

  “Amen,” we said in unison.

  “Does anyone want to add anything else?” Alan asked, looking around the table. His eyes rested on me, and I nodded almost imperceptibly. “Emily, go ahead.”

  “I just wanted to say that I’m very grateful for Blake and his crew,” I began. “They didn’t save my house, but they did save Howard, and Blake’s generosity in bringing me here to your beautiful home is something I’m truly grateful for. So, thank you.”

  “We’re glad you could be here with us, dear,” Ellie said, as she squeezed my other hand and smiled warmly. I had to fight back the tears that threatened to flow yet again. Blake’s family was so kind and generous, not at all like my family, and this was not at all like holidays at my family’s house. I cringed as I thought about what my family would be doing right now, and about the stiff way they would be waiting for dinner to be served. I returned Ellie’s smile as Brian grabbed the bowl of potatoes and said, “Let’s eat! I’m starving!”

  After dinner, we all helped clear the table as E
llie and Nina stored the leftovers in brightly colored Tupperware containers. Alan brushed the crumbs off the tablecloth before setting a small, rectangular box down on the table.

  “All right, who is going to take on the best domino player east of the Mississippi?” he bellowed. Groaned protests came from the kitchen as I gave Alan a confused look. He leaned closer and whispered, “They’re just jealous of my natural talent and ability.”

  “Talent and ability, Dad?” Blake called. “It’s more like stubborn refusal to admit that you’ve been defeated!”

  “I’ve never lost!” Alan protested.

  “Says who?” Ellie, Brian, and Nina called in unison.

  “You are all just jealous,” he grumbled with a smile, as he began to lay out domino tiles on the table. “But seriously, who's going to play?”

  “C’mon, Dad,” Blake said, peeking around the corner. “You know we’re all in and we’ll play the winner.”

  “I’ll start with Emily!” Alan declared. He explained the rules to me, and by the time the rest of the family emerged from the kitchen holding pies and plates, Alan had already beaten me twice. I laughed and held up my hands as I ceded my seat to Brian, who rubbed his hands together and cackled loudly before pulling his tiles.

  Nina watched me warily out of the corner of her eye at first, but as the games progressed and she saw that I had no intention of coming between her and her father, she relaxed and let down her guard a little. Alan teamed us up against Blake and Ellie, and we won the first round. Blake grinned as I high-fived my partner and did a little victory chair dance.

  We were all yawning and rubbing our eyes when Blake suggested it was time to head home. I hugged his parents and thanked them for a lovely meal and their kind hospitality. Ellie hugged me a little longer and tighter before saying, “You’re welcome, dear. It was such a pleasure having you here today; I’m glad you came.”

  When we got to Blake’s truck, I headed for the back, but Nina intercepted me and said, “Nah, you sit up front.” I climbed in without protest, and we rode home in a vaguely uncomfortable silence. Blake hummed along to the radio until Nina said, “Dad, please. Enough with the Christmas music.”