Make Me a Mommy: A Mother's Day Secret Baby Romance

by Liz K. Lorde

  Time ceases to exist, and all I know is that I have to protect her.

  She’s all that matters now.

  Avery

  The blood doesn’t bother me.

  All I can feel are his chiseled biceps wrapped tightly around me in a comforting hug.

  I’ve never seen this side of Jack before. He’s holding me like he needs me.

  I think I like it.

  It feels so good to be in his manly presence that I want to just forget the past and to savor this moment.

  I feel safe around him because I know he would absolutely kill anybody that tried to hurt me…especially Adam.

  A weight has been lifted now that I’ve let Jack know what I discovered. I can’t believe I was so close to marrying a monster like Adam Stanton. I shudder to think of what my life would be had that happened.

  At the same time, I can feel Jack’s ragged breathing and I know he’s trying to keep his rage inside. I know the thought of any man hurting me puts him in a total fury. I don’t want to be responsible for that.

  I just want Jack to hold me from now into eternity. Only in his arms do I feel safe and comforted. Even though a part of me is frightened of him and his power, it’s also what I love about him.

  He releases me at last when he’s calmed down enough. I go to the kitchen sink and take a rag and soak it in warm water so that I can wipe the rest of the blood off his body.

  I have to admit he looks so gorgeous wearing just those ripped jeans and his faded undershirt. I can see the outline of his rock-solid muscles.

  I go to him and smooth the rag over his body removing all the blood that I can.

  “Boof!” barks Buck, coming over to do his part with his tongue.

  I scratch behind Buck’s ear and between the two of us, we get our mountain man all cleaned up.

  Jack is a different kind of guy. He’s ragged and wild and untamed. I appreciate his authenticity and mostly I just know I will never escape the electricity that hums between us.

  Even now in this dire moment, I know that we’re connected. I know it’s a feeling like no other, that I will never have again with anybody else, nor would I want to.

  It’s him. He does this to me.

  Once I finish cleaning him up as best I can without a shower, I go to the cupboard and pull out a bottle of whiskey. Jack looks like he could use a drink and I certainly know that I could.

  I pour us both a heavy drink in a couple of glasses and take them towards him. He’s making up a fire and it’s starting to get hot in here in more ways than one.

  At the same time, I know Jack has a lot on his mind. He’s got a story to tell and I’m ready to hear it.

  He sits in the big leather chair that faces the fire with his drink and begins to tell me what happened. I curl up on the rug beside him, lay my head in his lap and listen.

  “This is how it went down, Avery. I’m ready to tell you. Are you ready to hear it?” he says.

  “I am,” I say solemnly.

  I know that whatever Jack has to say isn’t gonna be good. It’s probably gonna be the source of all his pain, and considering what Adam did to him, I feel partially responsible even though I’m technically removed from the story.

  “When I was in the military,” he begins, “we attempted to liberate a city held by terrorists. My squad was sent to take out the cell’s leaders and to prevent them from ordering an airstrike on the city.

  “Our troops successfully won the battle, but at the worst possible moment, my squad’s weapons malfunctioned. But the terrorists…Christ. At the time, I swore they were packing the same fucking weapons. Now I know for sure.

  “Unfortunately for us, their weapons worked.

  “My entire squad was slaughtered and the airstrike on the city got called. Those of us who were left just started running—away from the gunfire and the bombing and all of the shit. I tried to save the lives that I could, but it didn’t fucking matter. There was just too much ammo coming at all of us.

  “I still don’t know how I made it out alive. It was every man for himself dodging a hailstorm of bullets. I’m the only one that survived.

  “This is the guilt I’ve been living with here in the wilderness. This is the past I can never escape. And thanks to your confession, I know it was your boyfriend Adam’s fault.”

  I’m at a loss for words. My heart hurts at the mention of my boyfriend, Adam. He knows that I despise that asshole.

  Why would he say that? I guess he’s still feeling bitter about the situation and I can see why. I can’t believe Jack lived through that. And I can’t believe Adam was responsible for turning his luck around.

  How could he do that to his country?

  Suddenly, everything about Jack makes more sense to me. His isolation, his aloofness, his total abandonment of society. It all makes sense now.

  “Jack, I’m…I’m so sorry. But I hope you know that you can’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault,” I say trying to help heal the situation.

  He looks at me with sadness and says, “I can never take it back. I can’t turn back time. Someone else should’ve been saved, not me.”

  The guilt he must feel is palpable. I know if it were me in that situation, leading men into war, I would feel responsible too. It’s no wonder Jack has been trying to escape this pain.

  “Jack, you had to live. Otherwise, I would never have met you. And I can’t imagine a life like that. Please don’t say that you should’ve died,” I say, pleading.

  I crawl up from my place on the floor onto his lap and curl into him. Somehow, I fit into the crook of his arm just perfectly. Of course, because everything about us together is perfect. He holds me tightly and stares into the fire for a long time.

  It’s as if he’s reliving those memories all over again. It’s something I imagine he does every day.

  “Jack, if I could take this burden from you I would. I hate to see that you’re hurting like that. It wasn’t your fault. It’s fucking Adam’s fault and I can’t do anything but try to apologize to him.”

  His eyes flash fiery rage. “Don’t you apologize for that asshole, ever. He’s never gonna hurt you again, Avery, that I promise.”

  I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. Jack is tense and shaking with rage and regret and guilt from the story he just told. I don’t blame him.

  So I curl into him. Both of us sit in the large leather chair and get warm by the fire. There’s nothing I can say to help Jack’s memories go away. There’s nothing I can do to assuage his guilty conscience.

  I can only hope that now he understands Adam was behind it, not him. None of this was his fault.

  I sip my whiskey and it takes the edge off my own emotions. But I feel like I’ve lost Jack.

  Where did he go? He’s just staring into the fire and thinking God knows what.

  There’s immense power and strength in him that when unleashed, frightens me. I can only imagine what he’s thinking of doing to Adam right now.

  I place my palm over his beating heart and I can tell it’s moving at a fast rate. His indignation at this situation must be staggering.

  “Jack, I’m sorry. Please don’t be so angry. I can understand how you feel. But it’s over now. That was in the past. Can we start a future together?” I ask hopefully.

  He looks down at me, and I get lost deep in his eyes. I know in this moment that he’s come back to me. He’s out of the bitter memories that war can bring and he’s back with me…for now.

  Jack

  I cover my face with my own fucking hands. I can’t bear to look her in the eyes. The last thing I want to see is the fucking change in her eyes from admiration to abhorrence. Who does?

  Bad enough I just retold the whole sad fucking story. Worse, now it’s going to turn her against me.

  My shoulders are heaving, and I let the tears flow.

  Why should I give a fuck anymore? I’ve bared my fucking soul, and I’m going to pay the fucking price. Any second she’ll get up a
nd walk out that door into that blizzard. Only this time, I won’t have the heart to stop her.

  This time it’ll be for fucking good.

  And of course I can’t fucking blame her. I mean, I’m a monster. Retelling my story has only made that tasty little fact hit home once more.

  Dear god, what an awful fucking human being I am. I’m fucking responsible for the deaths of so many innocent fucking people.

  Something light and soft touches my shoulder.

  Instantly I’m transported to those days a long time ago, when I was a little boy. Mom would first touch me lightly on the shoulder when I’d come into the kitchen a sniffling mess because of a bruised elbow or a scraped knee.

  She’d say something like “Let’s have a smile from my big, brave boy” before inspecting the injury and kissing it better.

  What was most comforting about the experience was her scent. As she pressed me against her, I could detect hints of cinnamon, vanilla, lemon, and frangipani. Some kind of special perfume she used, frangipani.

  I asked her what it was once and remembered the name so I could buy her a bottle when I was older.

  The rest of the scents were from her work in the kitchen. She was a fucking expert cook. Not only did she make a mean pancake, she also baked the best fucking muffins.

  Of course, the touch on the shoulder now will not be followed by a kiss. It will be followed by some halfhearted words of comfort on Avery’s part before she books it.

  No doubt her manners don’t let her just walk out. I try to block out the pain in my heart.

  If she took the fire poker out of the fireplace right now and stabbed me through the heart, it would be no less fucking painful.

  “I’m soooooo sorry.” Her voice is soft and melodic. I can barely hear what she’s saying.

  I think I must have misheard her. I’m so fucking desperate to have her stay with me…I convinced myself that what she said was “Sorry.”

  Bad fucking time to start hallucinating, big man.

  I’ve seen people totally lose it in the desert after being close to dehydration because they think they can see water. We’d have to strap ‘em down sometimes to keep them from wandering off trying to find it when we knew damn well it wasn’t fucking there.

  Now here I am, imagining the woman I’ve come to love wants to stick by me after hearing the worst fucking thing I’ve ever done.

  I know I’ve totally lost my mind when I feel her lips on me. Like millions of tiny butterflies, they caress my skin.

  It’s so fucking amazing I decide to enjoy the sensation before getting back to reality. With Avery gone, I’ll be spending enough fucking time living the cold, hard reality. I may as well make the most of this imaginary situation as I can.

  When a hand gently rubs mine, I peer through my fingers.

  I can hardly fucking believe what I see.

  There’s Avery. Large as life she’s sitting next to me. And not only that, she seems to be showing me fucking affection.

  “Avery…” I start but can’t finish the sentence. I’m still too choked up to speak. It’s been fucking terrible reliving that most awful fucking experience of mine.

  “Shhhh,” she coos and strokes my hair.

  My heart melts, and the stabbing pain subsides. Is this really fucking happening?

  She gets onto her knees next to me and starts kissing me. Her lips are soft, gentle, and soothing.

  My insides melt.

  No. I want to scream fucking scream at her to stop giving me affection I don’t fucking deserve, but no sound comes from my lips.

  This is bad. Very fucking bad.

  I’m a monster. Retelling the story has stirred up so many fucking emotions, and I can’t be trusted. The last think I want to do is fucking hurt the most precious and exquisite thing in my life.

  “Avery, babe,” I try and push her away.

  She persists and continues to smother me with affection.

  Soon it’s going to be too fucking late.

  My fucking massive cock is standing to attention already.

  “Fuck, Avery,” I growl and grab her shoulders.

  My intention it to push her away, but my hands don’t obey my commands. My brain is about to take a long vacation. I need to fucking stop. I don’t want to hurt her.

  Chop-chop, don’t stop, that fucking monster growls inside my head.

  Her hands glide down my hairy chest and caress my belly.

  The flame flickering within me ignites into a giant wild fire. I want to take her now. I want to use my fucking cock and ram it right into that fucking tight and delicious pussy of hers.

  Fucking stop, I try and tell myself, but I know it’s falling on deaf ears.

  It’s too fucking late to turn back.

  Self-control Jack, come on, and exercise some fucking self-control. My inner voice is struggling to be heard.

  Years of training for special missions means I come equipped with plenty of self-control exercises. If only my brain stuck around long enough for me to take advantage of one. As it is, my fucking cock is in charge of the thinking right now, and all it wants is Avery.

  Don’t think.

  Just do.

  Her fingers have reached the waistband of my blue jeans, and I can barely contain myself.

  How has she managed to do this?

  She’s a fucking witch. I knew it.

  She’s a fucking angel.

  One minute I’m a mess of a man, having just re-told the most horrific story of my life, and the next I’m ready to fuck her.

  Easy boy, I think to myself.

  She’s the woman you love. You don’t want to fucking hurt her.

  If I give in to the pure animalistic lust growing inside me, all hell might break loose. If I lose my fucking self-control, I might spank that delicious tiny ass of hers or even just fucking fill it with my cock instead.

  A cold shower is what might fucking help. If I can fucking get away from her and take a fucking cold shower, I might be able to reduce the enormous fire ripping through me.

  Her fingers have managed to slide lower. Any second and she’ll be touching my fucking dick.

  I stiffen. If I lose control, I don’t know what will happen.

  I groan.

  Avery’s face appears in front of mine. Huge blue eyes peer at me.

  “Can I, Jack? Is this okay?”

  Oh, fuck. She doesn’t just want me—she’s worried about me. Give me some rope so I can tie my hands to this fucking chair till my brain returns from its vacation and kicks lust in the fucking ass.

  Her concern is leaving me breathless. No words escape my lips so instead, I shake my head.

  For a few more seconds, those ocean eyes study me before realization registers.

  Those delicious lips of hers curl up a little. Her index finger traces my lower lip.

  “I think I see what’s going on.”

  She gets off the couch and drops down in front of me.

  No. No. No.

  I’m still not fucking ready to accept responsibility for what the fuck might happen if we fuck now. I’m too fucking vulnerable and unpredictable. I’m a fucking monster.

  Her fingers undo my zip and help my waiting cock out of its constraint. It leaps out and points straight upward.

  Her fingers touch it lightly, almost too fucking lightly.

  “Do you want it, Jack?”

  Think unhappy thoughts. Don’t get swept away in the lust. But it’s no fucking good.

  Like a piano player, she plays the scales on my cock.

  At her touch, it swells even more, and I moan.

  “Fuck, Avery, do it.”

  My hands grab her face and I push her onto me.

  Instead of fighting me, she obliges and opens her mouth. At first she only takes the tip of it into her mouth to suck on it.

  Fireworks explode in my head, and I want to fucking push my cock right down her throat.

  Her fingers are now playing with my balls as she takes me in all the
fucking way. I wait for her to fucking gag, but she doesn’t. Almost too easily she accommodates me, even though I feel as if I’m halfway down her throat.

  Any prior restraint is going out the fucking window. Her magic mouth is releasing any last bit of restraint I’ve been able to fucking exercise.

  Avery expertly accepts my hard, fast thrusts in and out of her mouth. Not only does she fucking accommodate me, she fucking drives me mad with pleasure. Her tongue does things I can’t fucking understand, only feel.

  It does not take long for my fucking cock to grow to fucking capacity, and I feel myself about to unload a massive amount of cum.

  If she doesn’t want to swallow, it’s too fucking late.

  I can’t pull out of her. I’m too far gone. I’ve jumped off the fucking cliff without a fucking parachute. The free fall is fucking exhilarating and exciting.

  As she starts to swallow, hungrily and eagerly, it’s as if I’m landing on a sea of clouds. I float and shoot every last bit of me into her mouth.

  She has no trouble swallowing the fucking lot.

  Spent, I throw my head back and finally relinquish hers.

  But what kind of man would I be if I let her finish me off like that without returning the favor?

  No kind of man. No kind of man at all.

  Avery

  I watch Jack’s face and feel oddly satisfied. He wanted me to take him, and I did. And not only that, I swallowed every last bit of his cream-colored cum.

  I lick my lips and slide upward, snake-like, until my face is eye level with his.

  My lips find his. At first I’m tentative. When he grabs me rough and tight, my heart starts to race.

  He opens his eyes, and the fire smoldering there surprises me.

  “You asked for this,” he growls, and fear takes a hold of me. It is as if icy fingers are squeezing my insides tightly.

  Have I overstepped the mark? Maybe I shouldn’t have given him a blowjob after he told me that terrible story.

  But it didn’t even feel like me sucking Jack’s cock. It felt like someone else—someone more experienced, wiser, more capable of comforting Jack in his time of need in every way.

  That’s all I had wanted to do. Comfort him.

  “Jack,” I mumble, but he seems to take no notice.