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

by Liz K. Lorde

  Dylan

  As soon as our lips meet, I want to pick her up and fuck her again.

  She’s so fucking hot and sexy. But I know better than to take advantage of the situation. Besides, there’s Boss the bear cub and a trashed cabin.

  I may be a man of the wild, but that does not mean I live in squalor.

  After meals, I wash the dishes straight away. Once the food dries on them, they’re fucking hard to clean.

  Sometimes you’ve got to put business before pleasure. God knows, I haven’t always operated this way.

  I mean, there were times when I had a one-night stand with some chick whose name I would forget the next day. Back then, I went through chicks like other men go through shirts.

  Those days are long gone. I’ve had plenty of time to get my priorities right.

  I pull away. Plenty of time for sex later.

  “Well,” I say, looking at them both. “The dishes won’t wash themselves.”

  My eyes survey the room. There’s shit everywhere. I’ve got no fucking idea what this bear got up to in the night.

  I sigh. “And the cabin will stay like this if we sit all day long.”

  Emma ruffles Boss’ fur before she picks up the plates and takes them into the kitchen.

  “Well, then,” she smiles and gives me a little kiss on the tip of my nose. “Let’s get a move on.”

  Before she walks away, I grab her hand and stop her. She tilts her head to the left.

  “Not without paying the fucking toll,” I growl.

  She laughs. “The toll,” she says, turning to Boss. “What do you think the toll is, my little one?”

  Boss stares at her with those big brown bear eyes and licks his lips with his rather large tongue.

  “Oh, I see.” She says as if the bear had just told her what to do. “Well then, we better pay it.”

  Our eyes meet as she leans into me for a kiss.

  I find it fucking hard to let her go. The fire ignites in me, and I’m tempted to leave the dishes till later.

  But before I can pick her up and throw her over my shoulder, Boss stands on his back legs, and I feel his rough bear tongue on my cheek.

  “Ohhh, Boss,” I groan and wipe my face.

  Emma scoots into the kitchen. Boss howls and clumsily gets off his chair to follow what he now thinks is his mother.

  Abandoned, I, too, go into the kitchen. Along the way, I pick up old newspapers and shredded boxes, the remains of a bored bear last night.

  When I offer to wash up, she shakes her head. “You cooked; the least I can do is clean the dishes.”

  “Do you know how to wash the dishes?” I tease, and Emma grins.

  She throws a bit of water in my direction. Soapsuds settle in my beard. I’ve got nothing to retaliate with.

  “It’s never too late to learn.” She holds up one of the plates. “But you know,” she says, turning it around a few times, “I could always let Boss lick them clean.”

  There’s a sparkle in her eyes I haven’t seen before. She seems a new woman today.

  “Don’t you dare,” I cry in pretend horror and try to wrestle it from her. Since she’s near the sink, I earn myself another splash and leave her to it.

  “How about I dry?” I offer, looking for the tea towel. It takes me a minute or so to spot the shreds of material scattered all over the floor.

  “Boss,” I begin, turning to the bear cub, “did you do this?” I hold up a bit of material.

  The bear shakes his head and wipes his nose with his paw. Then, he stumbles toward Emma.

  “Oh, poor Boss. Is he being mean to you?”

  “Me, mean?” I protest and hold up the remains of the shredded tea towel. “I’m not the one who destroyed this.”

  “Why don’t you just pick him up and nurse him?” Emma suggests.

  It’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Shouldn’t you nurse the bear?”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “It’s all right. I don’t mind if you nurse him. I’m happy to share.”

  I stare at the bear with mixed fucking feelings. He represents domestic bliss and, at the same time, heartache. He’ll grow up and will need to be released into the wild.

  Once there, what’s to stop a fucking poacher shooting him dead like his mother? Boss may even be more fucking vulnerable because he’ll have had contact with humans.

  I shake my head. This is not going to end well.

  “Some male bonding will do him good,” Emma prompts and puts the last of the dishes onto the drying rack.

  “Come here.” I turn to Boss and pick him up.

  He does not resist. On the contrary, he’s quite keen to check out what’s happening.

  “Dishes are done,” Emma announces and looks at me, hands on her hips. “Now what?”

  I thrust my chin toward the cupboard. “Dustpan and broom in there to sweep up. Our little friend here made quite the mess last night.”

  Without argument, Emma hands me the broom. It is fucking difficult to sweep with a bear in my arm, so I sit Boss down.

  Turns out it was a big mistake. Instead of staying put, Boss starts to chase after the broom. Like a cat, he puts out his paw to swipe it.

  “Hey,” I grumble at him, but he pays no fucking attention to me whatsoever. “Stop it,” I say again, using my fiercest voice.

  Emma slaps me with the dustpan. “Don’t scare the little fellow.”

  I stop sweeping and look her straight in the eye. “Give me a break, does he look scared to you?” I point to the cub still trying to rip the broom out of my hand.

  Emma pouts. There’s the urge again to pick her up and throw her over my shoulder for another fuck upstairs.

  “But you look angry at him,” she persists, and I roll my eyes.

  “At this rate, we’ll never get the place cleaned up,” I complain.

  “What does it matter? It’s not like we’ve got be anywhere. I mean, look outside. There’s still a snowstorm.”

  And there are plenty of things I can think of doing instead of cleaning up.

  “Oh, come here.” She picks Boss up. “Voila, the floor is yours.”

  “About fucking time,” I mumble. “And don’t put him down till I’m done.” Emma puts her right hand to her forehead in a salute and grins. “Yes sir!” Boss, meanwhile, is licking her neck. I’m so fucking jealous.

  I make a mental note to wipe her neck before I kiss her there. Better still, we could both take a shower together.

  Images of the two of us naked in the shower invade my mind. Her back against my chest, my fucking cock against her ass, and my hands over her tits.

  “What?” My head snaps up. I’ve missed something she said.

  “I think we need to give Boss a bath. He’s all sticky. I think he might have found some honey or maple syrup, hard to say.”

  Okay, so not quite what I’d been fucking dreaming about, but, as long as we’re doing things together, the world is all good.

  With Emma holding Boss, the floor is sparkling again in under five minutes. This bear was one messy fucking houseguest.

  When I’m done, we take Boss to the bathroom. He’s not impressed.

  Wide-eyed, Boss is clinging to Emma and watching my every move.

  “How about some bubble bath?”

  I roll my eyes. “You got to be fucking kidding me. He’s a bear.”

  Emma nods. “So? He’s living with us inside, and he should smell nice.”

  I shake my head. I knew taking the bear into the house was a mistake. Next, she’ll want him to fucking sleep with us on the bed.

  I’ll have to draw the line there.

  “Pass it to me,” she holds out her hand, and I hand her the bottle of shampoo.

  Boss uses this time to struggle out of Emma’s arms. In the process, she drops the bottle. It lands in the water, upside down.

  I pick it up, but half of it has already spilled. The water begins to foam.

  “Good one,” I growl, but Emma just laughs.

 
She coats her hand with foam and blows it onto the bear. He starts to chase it. Quick as a flash, Emma grabs him and drops him in the bath.

  Boss starts splashing about in the tub. Emma splashes me.

  “Hey,” she calls and grins. “How about a hand?”

  A hand? I’ll give her a fucking hand. I grab a large bit of foam and throw it at her.

  “What the—?” She giggles and retaliates.

  Within seconds, we’re both covered in water and foam.

  “Stop,” she exclaims with a squeal.

  But my competitive nature has taken hold. By the time I realize her intention, she’s already halfway out the door.

  I follow, with plenty of fucking ammunition in my hands.

  She runs outside, and I see that the storm has passed. Distracted, I don’t see her missile coming.

  Fluffy white snow hits me right between the eyes.

  Fuck.

  This means one thing.

  This means war.

  Emma

  The quiet lulls me into a false sense of security.

  I strain to hear a noise.

  Nothing but silence.

  I’m about to turn around when I hear something. Before I get a chance to look, a volley of snowballs assaults me. Each one hits my body.

  I duck, I weave, I run, and, finally, I dive for cover behind a raised wall of some sort. I land hard, so hard that I struggle to breathe.

  I count to ten and make myself breathe nice and slow. I’m winded. Fingers crossed, Dylan’s not chasing after me—at least not yet.

  When my breathing is a little easier, I peer out from behind my safety barrier and wham, a snowball hits me fair in the face.

  You fucking wait, Dylan, I vow. What you can do, I can do better.

  Quickly, I form snowball after snowball. I don’t stop until I have about twenty small balls next to me.

  Then I peer out from behind my hideout and see Dylan frantically build his own wall out of snow.

  Boss is coming out of house and jumping around. I see Dylan wave his arms at the bear, as if trying to shoo him away.

  The bear just leaps around, and to my utter delight, part of Dylan’s wall collapses.

  I giggle and grab my snowballs to start my assault.

  Most of them get him in the back, as he’s still fighting with Boss.

  Before he can retaliate, I disappear and make more ammunition.

  I can’t recall the last time I’ve had this much fun.

  My second attack on him is not as successful as the first. Boss has moved on, and Dylan has built a tall snow wall around himself.

  My balls fall a little short. His, on the other hand, are accurate and come sailing down around me, behind my shelter.

  When my next lot of snowballs go astray again, I know it’s time to change my tactics. I take a breather and look around. I need a plan, a plan he won’t see coming.

  If I stay hunkered down behind my wall, we’ll be here all fucking day. I need to win this fight. As my eyes scan the area, a plan is forming.

  Okay, so I know my combat skills. I’ve been to the seminars and paid attention. I peer around my hide out and wait.

  Nothing.

  Both baby bear and Dylan are nowhere to be seen. Fingers crossed, Boss won’t give me away.

  I take a deep breath before I unleash a volley of snowballs.

  Bingo. Dylan returns fire.

  This is my queue. I dart out of my hideout and dash to my right.

  My plan is simple. I’ll let him think I’m rebuilding ammunition when, in reality, I’m going to circle the house and attack him from behind.

  I run as fast as I can. With the deep snow, it’s heavy going. My legs sink into the snow with every step I take.

  Soon enough, it feels as if my lungs are being pierced by millions of needles, and breathing becomes difficult.

  But I’m propelled by my competitive desire to beat Dylan. If I can ambush him from behind, I’ve won this war.

  The minute he came out to assault me with, like, a hundred small snowballs, I knew it was war.

  Now the time has come to outsmart the smart mountain man.

  Nearly there, only a bit further, I can see the back of his legs.

  All of my attention is on getting to my goal. I don’t see Boss bounding through the snow toward me. Only when it’s too late do I see the bear.

  An avoidance maneuver has me tumble straight over him. Instead of sprawling straight onto the ground, I roll, but the commotion has been enough to alert Dylan to my presence.

  No, my brain’s screaming at me to get my ass into gear.

  Quick as I can, I scramble to my feet and charge.

  To my utter delight, the element of surprise is still on my side. While my fall may have alerted Dylan to my presence, he’s not quite sure what to make of it, and so he’s just standing there, watching.

  I unleash a volley of snowballs I’ve been hiding in my jacket, and as he’s trying to fend them off, I make my final move.

  With all the power and force I can muster, I pummel into him as I wrap my arms around his waist.

  If it weren’t for Boss joining in, I would never have succeeded. But the bear leaps against me as well, giving me the extra power to unbalance Dylan.

  His arms reach for something, flailing and wailing, but to no avail—and he goes sailing through the air backwards.

  He lands flat on his back with an almighty smack.

  When he says nothing, fear takes hold. Had my plan gone wrong? Was this going to be a fun moment gone wrong?

  Had I killed him? Ice fingers grab and squeeze my heart till I think I can’t breathe anymore.

  My thoughts spiral into imagining the worst of the worst.

  What if I haven’t killed him but seriously injured him, so he’s going to be a quadriplegic for the rest of his life? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.

  Tears are about to fall when I feel movement.

  Thank god, he’s alive.

  Before I can say or do anything, my face gets covered in snow.

  “You’re going to fucking pay for this,” growls Dylan and rolls me off him.

  Now he’s got the upper hand.

  Darn, darn, darn. I’d fallen victim to the most basic rule of combat: never let your emotions get in the way of victory.

  He pins me to the snow. I struggle and squirm beneath his hard hold.

  “It’s no use my little fucking slut,” he growls.

  I see him take both my hands into his left and then use his right to pick up more snow.

  He covers my face and my top—and basically all of me—in the cold white stuff. When my struggling gets too much for him, he simply sits on the lower part of my body.

  “We’ll see about who’s going to win this fight.”

  “Boss,” I call my baby bear, but I can’t see him anywhere. “Boss. Don’t abandon me, you…” The words die on my lips.

  “He’s gone off to chase a snow flake; he won’t help you,” says Dylan and I see the glint in his eyes. “In fact, no one will hear you out here. It’s just you and me and the snow.” He picks up another handful and shoves it down my front.

  “Ahhh,” I screech and try and push my hips upwards so as to unbalance him.

  “Give in?”

  I shake my head. “Never,” I say with renewed determination.

  By the time Dylan shoves the third load of snow down my jacket, I know I’m fighting a losing battle.

  I’m breathing hard, and my insides are burning with desire, despite the cold seeping in from the snow.

  Dylan’s face comes really close, and his lips hover above my mouth. In anticipation, I half-close my eyes and open my lips to meet him.

  Instead of pushing down hard, he just brushes his mouth past mine, ever so lightly. Electric shockwaves pulse through me. I try and move upward to catch him, but he’s just out of my reach.

  “You haven’t said the magic words,” he growls.

  I moan. I’m going to lose my
mind with all this desire sweeping through me. I can’t think clearly.

  “What magic words?” I pant, and my gaze is fixed on his lips.

  My body aches to be touched by this sex god. I want him to fuck me here and now. I want him to rip my clothes off and douse the fire of desire ripping through me.

  “I give in.” I see the corner of his lips curl up a little into a near smile, and I see the glint in his eyes.

  I bite my lip. I don’t want to give in—it goes against my instinct: fight till the end.

  “Then you won’t get to taste these again.”

  His fucking mouth is so close I think I’ll be able to press my lips against him if I just stretch my neck up a little. I purse my lips and give it a go.

  But he moves away, just enough so he’s out of reach. I can still feel his warm breath on my face.

  Man, oh fucking man.

  By now, my pussy is dripping wet with anticipation and begging me to give in so he can fuck me.

  I mumble something and look at him.

  “Can’t hear you, sweetheart.”

  “Okay. Okay.” Now I’m nearly shouting. “I give in. Happy?”

  Instead of a response, his mouth crushes down on mine. Our tongues meet and entwine and duel till our hands are taking over.

  I feel him tug at my coat, and my fingers reach for his pants.

  It is as if time has stood still. There’s only Dylan, me, and our incredible animalistic lust for each other.

  Dylan

  Her words are music to my soul, honey to my lips, and nectar to my stomach.

  Shit, I’m feeling all fucking poetic. If I’m not fucking careful, I might break into song or limerick.

  As a reward, I kiss her. At first, I was only going to kiss her. After all, we’re out here in the snow, the freezing cold, but the minute my lips crush hers, my cock takes over and sends my brain on extended leave.

  It’s as if nothing else matters in the world. There’s only one thing: her exquisite body. I want to rip her clothes off and feast my eyes on her before fucking her.

  My hands work without input from me. In no time at all, I open her jacket and expose her tits.

  Her nipples are so hard, they look like they can cut through ice. I take one between my index finger and thumb to squeeze and pull and pinch.

  I grab some snow and rub it over them. Her body shivers, and she squeals in delight. Somehow, she manages to undo the button on my pants and free my pulsing fucking cock.