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

by Liz K. Lorde

  I swallowed. It was hard not to be intimidated by a woman like this. Especially after she dated Keagan, and she is his idea of a serious relationship. I hope to God that he doesn’t compare me to her when we’re doing everything.

  “How is your brother?” she asks.

  My ears start ringing. I can’t sit across from the woman that hurt him and smile, pretending everything is fine. I shake my head.

  “I’m sorry, Liz,” I say. “I can’t do this.”

  She frowns. “What?”

  “I can’t work for you.”

  She blinks at me. Her frown fades, and her face is unreadable. She’s always had a perfect poker face, and it’s unnerving.

  “You’re quitting before you’ve even started.” It’s not a question.

  I nod. “I know how Keagan feels about you. I’m not going to betray him like that.”

  She laughs, a pleasant sound if it weren’t for the bitch it was coming from.

  “Don’t be petty, Dana,” she says. “This is a good job with a lot of money. You’ll just throw it away?”

  I nod and stand up.

  “I’m sorry,” I say again and leave her office without saying anything else.

  I walk through the building, head held high, until I’m in the street before I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I have a lump in my throat, although I can’t tell why I want to cry. Seeing not one, but two of Keagan’s exes in one day, in one office, makes me feel like throwing up.

  I have to get out of here.

  I walk to my car. When I’m behind the wheel, I dial my mom on the Bluetooth system. The phone rings for so long, I’m sure I’ll be pushed over to voicemail, but then she answers and her voice is pleasant and welcome.

  “I just quit my job,” I say without saying hello.

  “What? Honey, why?”

  “Liz was my boss. Liz, Mom. That woman.”

  I can’t find the words. I’m upset and angry, and I don’t know why I feel as strongly as I do.

  “Oh, sweetie.” My mom can’t even find the words. After a moment of silence from both of us, she speaks again.

  “Are you going home?”

  I nod, remember she can’t see me and answer. “Yes.”

  “I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “What about the studio?”

  “Chris can manage.”

  We end the conversation, and a part of me relaxes because my mom is on her way. No matter how old I get, when I can cry on my mom’s shoulder, things start to feel better. She comes when I need her, and I’m grateful that I have someone on my side, the way I have her.

  I drive home. I have a sinking feeling in my gut. The more I think about what I just did, the sicker I feel. It was a great job, and it was a good salary. I could have moved back into my own place and stopped being a burden. But I can’t work for Liz. I hate her. She hurt Keagan so much. And I can’t stand Bianca, even though I only spent one morning with her.

  Am I being stupid for running away, or am I doing the right thing?

  When I get back home, I get changed into something more comfortable. I pull back my hair into a ponytail and wash my face, getting rid of the makeup I put on for the day.

  My mom rings the doorbell, and I let her in. She whirls into the apartment in a flurry of colored material and wraps her arms around me.

  “Don’t you for one second think you did the wrong thing,” she says after hugging me. She holds me at arm’s length. My eyes well up, even though I don’t know why I want to cry. Part of me feels like I made a mistake.

  “I gave up the job,” I say to my mom. She leads me to the couch, and we sit down together. “Was that stupid of me?”

  “What’s the alternative, work for that little witch?”

  I smile when my mom says it. My mom hates Liz the most, even more than Keagan does, for what she did to him.

  “You don’t need that drama, especially not with what’s going on between the two of you. There will be more jobs.”

  I take a deep breath. “I wish it was that easy. I’ve been to so many interviews, and I was so happy when I finally landed something.”

  My mom takes both hands in hers.

  “The right job will come along, sweetheart. If it’s meant to be, it will be.”

  Her destiny-driven view of life doesn’t make me feel better. I feel like I had something good, and I ruined it.

  “You didn’t do it for yourself, anyway,” my mom says.

  I frown. “What do you mean?”

  “You gave it up for Keagan. Because you’re on his side. Or am I wrong?”

  I shake my head. She’s not wrong. I did do it for him. I can’t work for the woman that hurt him and not feel like I’m betraying him.

  “I can see what’s happening,” my mom says. “And you have to tell him.”

  “Tell him what? About the job?”

  She shakes her head. “No, do that when you’re ready. I mean how you feel about him.”

  I take a shaky breath. “I have told him.”

  “Did you tell him that you’re in love with him?” she asks.

  God, am I really that transparent that my mom can see everything that goes on in my mind and my heart?

  “I’m scared it will ruin things between us,” I say. “I don’t want to screw up what we have now.”

  “If you don’t talk to him, eventually keeping it from him will break what you have. Communication is the only thing that works. And when you know what you want and the other person wants it too, it all goes so much better.”

  I nod. I wanted to be able to cry on her shoulder. Instead, she’s lecturing me about doing the right thing. I hate to admit it, though, but she’s right.

  I need to tell him how I feel. I’m just scared to. If he doesn’t feel the same, I’ll be crushed. But putting your heart out there is never easy.

  “It will be fine, baby,” my mom says and touches my cheek. “If it’s meant to be…”

  “I know,” I say. “It will be.”

  The advice is a lot easier to hand out than to take. It doesn’t make me any less nervous about it. But there is some truth to it, and either way, I will have to talk to him, sooner or later. We can’t keep dancing around each other the way we are now. No matter how good the sex is.

  Keagan

  My morning routines are unwavering. I get up at seven, shower, get dressed, and eat something. By the time it hits eight o’clock, I’m on the road heading to work.

  This morning, I’m running late. I overslept, and I’ll have to skip breakfast if I’m going to make it into the office on time. I glance at my wristwatch as I put it on. I’m about half an hour behind schedule.

  Dana knocks on my door. When I open it, she stands stark naked in front of me. It takes my breath away, and my rush is suddenly forgotten.

  “What are you doing?” I ask when I manage to find my voice. I let my eyes slide down her body, greedy to take in as much as I can. Her breasts are big and beautiful, her dark nipples soft. Her flat stomach, her pussy, I take it all in.

  When I force myself to look into her eyes again, she shrugs so that her breasts jiggle slightly.

  “You seem stressed,” she says. “That, and I’m horny.”

  God. I’m running late. I can’t do this. My body betrays me, hardening in my pants. I only hesitate for a second.

  “Fuck it,” I say and step forward so that my body is pressed against hers. I can be late. It’s my damn company, I can arrive whenever I feel like it.

  I wrap my arms around Dana and pull her into my room, kissing her hard and mashing my body against hers. My tongue slips into her mouth, and I taste her. She tastes minty and fresh.

  I run my hands down her back. She gyrates her hips against mine and sighs into my mouth.

  When we break the kiss, I step back and start getting undressed, reversing everything I’ve just done to get ready for work. I want her. I want to fuck her. Now. I’m not going to wait unti
l I get back from work.

  The shirt is easy to get rid of. When I reach for my buckle, she helps me, undressing me. Her hands are sure. She kneels to pull my pants down my legs, taking my underwear with it. My cock is hard and springs free.

  Dana is still on her knees in front of me. She reaches for my cock, one hand cupping my balls and the other wrapping around the base. She leans forward and looks up at me as she opens her mouth. My dick slides in between her lips, and I groan.

  Her mouth his hot and wet, and she knows what she’s doing, pushing my cock deeper into her mouth, against her soft palate. My hands are in her hair, guiding, encouraging, urging. I close my eyes and groan. Her hand on my balls squeezes me lightly, and my lust grows.

  I don’t let her suck me off for very long, even though it feels amazing. If she carries on for too long I’m going to come in her mouth before the fun gets started.

  I pull back, and my cock slips out of her mouth. I take her hand and pull her up. I’m naked aside from my socks, and I want to take her. Her unexpected blow job has me aching with lust. Sex on the bed isn’t what I’m after. I want it to be different. Dana has a way of awakening a very erotic side of me.

  I lead her to the bathroom and turn her back to me so we’re both facing the mirror. I look at us over her shoulder. I run my hands over her breasts and kiss her neck, nibbling softly on the skin below her ear. She reaches back and places her hand at the back of my neck. With her arm up, her breasts are pushed out, and I tug on her nipple. She gasps.

  I put one hand on her hip, and with a flat hand, I press between her shoulder blades so that she bends over in front of me. Her ass is on display, and I knead her cheeks, gazing hungrily at her pussy. She’s wet. I can see her lips glisten. I guide my cock toward her with my hand, pressing the head into her entrance, and she moans. I slide in deeper, and her body opens for me, slowly accepting my size.

  When I’m in to the hilt, she braces herself on the counter. She looks up at me, making eye contact in the mirror. I keep my eyes on hers and start fucking her.

  The mirror is a great idea. I see her breasts swing, and her face has an orgasmic look as I pound her from behind. Her mouth is open, and the moans and cries that slip out are purely sexual. I nail her hard from behind.

  She’s struggling to keep herself up with her arms so I reach a hand to her shoulder and hold onto her, keeping her up, balancing her between the hand on her hip and the other hand on her shoulder.

  My balls slap against her clit, and with every thrust, she cries out.

  The sound of our sex fills the bathroom and echoes off the tiles. The slapping, moaning, and groaning.

  I pull out of her, and she gasps. She’s breathing as hard as I am. I take her face in my hands and kiss her, exploring her mouth with my tongue. She kisses me through deep breaths as she’s trying to catch her breath. I kiss her jawline, down her neck, her collarbone, and her shoulder. I retrace my path back to her mouth and kiss her long and deeply, before I finally pull away. I look into her eyes and brush stray strands of hair out of her face.

  “Turn around,” I say, but I’m already guiding her with my hand.

  She turns around, and her skin breaks out in goosebumps when her ass presses against the cold counter. I help her get up onto the counter so she’s sitting on the edge, and I put my hands on her knees, pulling her legs open. Her lips are parted, and she leans back a little to keep her balance.

  I guide myself toward her again with my hand. When I enter, she’s anchored to me, and she sits up, putting her arms on my shoulders to steady herself.

  I move in and out a few times slowly, testing her balance, testing the position. When nothing goes wrong, I push into her harder and faster, picking up my pace and intensity, fucking her on the bathroom counter, and it’s hotter than hot. I’ve been working through my fantasies with her, and not one of them has been better than what she’s giving me right now.

  Her breasts jiggle, and I reach for one of them, squeezing and kneading her glorious flesh. Her eyes are closed, her hair bounces as she’s rocked on the counter, and her gasping is getting faster and shallower. I think she’s getting closer, but I don’t know. I’m not sure. It’s hard to keep track of her orgasms and concentrate on preventing my own.

  I dip my head and take a nipple into my mouth. Her already-erect nipple tightens even more as I flick my tongue over it, circle it, and suck on it. She moans. I use my teeth, nibbling gently. She gasps, and her hand moves to my head, keeping me there. It’s encouraging, and I move from one nipple to the other.

  Dana braces herself on the counter with her hands while I pay attention to her nipples, all the while pounding into her. She tips her head back, and I can tell she’s getting lost in the sensation.

  She wraps her legs around my hips, and it pulls me in deeper. Her body moves back and forth on the counter. I wrap my arms around her body, hands on her back and draw her to me, pulling myself deeper into her. I take her nipple into my mouth, and she cries out but it’s from pleasure, not pain.

  I keep up the sucking while I’m pounding into her. I pay attention to her breathing. I don’t want her to orgasm. I want her to get to the brink so I can keep her there, teetering on the edge for as long as possible.

  When she’s close, her breathing changes, and she starts gasping. I slow down my pace and let go of her nipple. She groans in protest, but I don’t let her think about it for too long. I’m still sliding in and out of her, and I’m still nuzzling her breasts.

  When I know her pleasure has subsided enough, I pick up my pace and start fucking her harder again. This time, I’m concentrating on the other nipple, and she starts breathing hard and moaning. When she’s on the verge of an orgasm again, I slow down and let it go.

  “Are you going to keep denying me an orgasm?” she demands to know in a breathy voice. I grin at her and nod.

  “For now,” I say.

  Orgasm denial just makes it so much bigger and better in the end, and I want to give her a mind-blowing orgasm. An orgasm that shatters her.

  She doesn’t complain after I answer her, and I go back to fucking her. I look at her reflection in the mirror again. Her hair swings on her shoulders, and her ass cheeks roll back and forth from the momentum of my motion. Because of how she’s sitting on the counter, her ass looks like a bubble, bulging out on both sides, and it’s hot as hell. I lean toward her, nip her shoulder with my teeth, and watch her body in the mirror as I create the rhythm that rocks her back and forth hard on her ass cheeks.

  Her hands are on my shoulders, her nails biting into the skin, and the pain is a delicious reminder of what we’re doing. If she grabs me hard enough, there will be little half-moons where her manicured nails push into my skin.

  I like the idea of carrying a mark from when I take her. It’s sexy. It feels like she claims me, somehow. Even if I wear a shirt, I will know the little marks are still there and carry them around with me like a secret.

  Dana can mark me as hers, but I’m claiming her right now with my cock. I might not leave any permanent signs on her, but if I’m fucking her right, she’ll feel it for a long time after we’re finished.

  Her eyes are closed, and her mouth is open. I focus on her lips. They’re beautiful and plump. Good for smiling, great for kissing, and even better for blowjobs. I trace her bottom lip with my thumb. She sucks it into her mouth, and her tongue plays around the tip, sensual and sexual.

  I love it when she does this. It makes me think about shoving my cock in her mouth, and it reminds me how she manages to mimic what her pussy feels like with her mouth.

  For a moment, I want to pull out, get her off the counter and on her knees again, and push my cock into her mouth. But I don’t. That’s how all this started up, and now, her pussy feels too good to stop. Fucking her is pure bliss, and she’s giving me all she’s got.

  Which is so much more than I ever hoped for. I caress her cheek with my fingertips, and she opens her eyes. I want her to look at me. Her eyes are a littl
e hazy, but she smiles at me, and I lean forward and kiss her. The sex is amazing. She’s different behind closed doors than out in public, and it makes me feel like she gives me a gift every time. Something secret that no one else can have.

  And all of that is fantastic. But I’m just happy to be with her.

  Dana

  Keagan’s powerful cock is relentless. He pounds into me with a steady, maddening rhythm. Each stroke coaxes pleasure from me, but somehow, he manages to keep that pleasure from cresting past the point of no return.

  The sensations keep building inside me, like a storm that refuses to break. Gathering power and intensity so that when its fury is unleashed, it’ll come with the thunder.

  Keagan draws out a side of me that I don’t usually show. Most of the time, I don’t even know it’s there. I’m reckless with him. I’m raw and absolutely myself. The masks I put on for the world fall away, and it’s just me. The real me.

  It’s unnerving to be so honest and vulnerable like this with someone, but I can’t help it with him. The way he touches me, kisses me, and fucks me brings out a very real side of me. He tears down my walls and gets to the heart of me.

  And I like it. As unsettling as it is, I like being able to do whatever it is I want to do, and feel what I want to feel. Keagan gives me the freedom to be myself without feeling like I’ll be judged for it.

  Like right now, for instance. Keagan has my legs pinned open on the counter in his bathroom. His hips force my thighs apart, and he’s pounding his cock into me repeatedly. He alternates between hard and rough, and soft and gentle, but he’s awoken the need inside of me to ride this out until the very end.

  I love it when he fucks me like this. It’s like he also leaves the thin veneer of society behind as soon as we’re together behind closed doors. We let loose and become people that no one else is allowed to see.

  I can’t think straight anymore. The friction, the sensation, and the constant rhythm of his cock pounding into me overrides my brain, and all I know is that I want more. I want to take this all the way. I want him to make me orgasm again and again, until I’m weak and spent.

  Keagan has the same thing on his mind, if the way he’s handling me is any indication. I know that his constant change in pace is not just for my benefit, but for his own, too. It lets him last longer. He doesn’t want it to be over any sooner than I do.