His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  “It must have happened really quickly. An hour, tops.”

  “Unbelievable. George was such a nice guy. Everyone liked him.”

  “Clearly, someone didn’t.”

  Violet’s bawling grows louder and I inwardly wince.

  “I’m going to find him.”

  “How are you going to do that? Thane, this happened on our floor.”

  “I know, and I’m taking it seriously. I will find him—whoever it was—and fucking kill him.”

  Now’s not the time to argue with him. This place isn’t safe. I knew it the moment I walked through these doors two years ago, and it was reinforced when I read the mayhem in the papers, and again today.

  The funeral was moved to a larger conference room so that everyone could attend. I clutch Daniel to my chest. Any one of them could have done it. Why George? Why stab a sixty-year-old man in the chest and leave him there for his wife to find? My stomach roils with a sick feeling. No matter what I think of Violet, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

  But she really is laying it on thick. Anger stabs my chest with every sigh she makes into my husband’s neck. She gazes at him in watery adoration as he holds her hand. It’s so obvious to me that she’s carrying a torch for him, but I can’t let myself get angry. I absolutely can’t.

  The priest walks up and down, swinging a pail of burning incense that waters my eyes. The whole congregation mutters a few lines in Latin, and then everyone stands up to view the coffin. Everyone moves in a single file line, and at the head of the line is Violet, followed by Thane. She grabs the edge of the coffin and leans over it for support. Then she collapses the moment she reaches George’s head, Thane stooping quickly to catch her. There’s a volley of shocked gasps as Thane helps her to her feet.

  I suck in a nervous breath when it’s my turn to look into the coffin, and I wonder who ever came up with this morbid tradition. George’s face, pleasant in life, looks ancient in death. The makeup caked over his skin makes him look older than his sixty years. My gaze travels over the two palms folded over his chest, where someone stabbed him fifteen times, and a chill runs down my spine. It makes me sick to think that someone looked that man in the face and stabbed him not once, but fifteen times.

  I hold Daniel upright as he babbles happily in my ear. Thank God for him. I’d lose my shit if I didn’t have him in my life. He’s been remarkably quiet this whole time. I walk to a little alcove away from everyone else, content to be alone with my baby. I twist my head around, looking for Thane, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

  A sniffing sound makes me turn around, and there’s Violet standing in the dark. An unpleasant surge of energy hits my heart. Violet still looks perfectly groomed, the only evidence of her grief two drops trembling from her chin. Aside from the tears hanging precariously on her chin, she looks like someone in a zombified state. There's no spark of recognition in her eyes when she glances at me.

  "I'm really, really sorry for your loss."

  She nods in an automated sort of way, as if she's heard the same thing countless times and is just drumming out the appropriate response.

  Damn, I am totally being a bitch, aren't I?

  Her gaze focuses on Daniel's face, and then her face crumples in the first real show of emotion I've seen on her today.

  She sucks in her breath, her fuchsia lips trembling. "Give him to me."

  What the fuck?

  She holds her hands outstretched, her penciled in eyebrows narrowing as I take a step back, heart beating fast. Why does she want my baby? And why the hell is she demanding for him?

  "No."

  I don't say anything more, because I don't want to upset her. There's something off about her. My jaw drops as Violet takes an aggressive step forward, looking at me with poison as though my arms wrapped protectively around my baby is some kind of insult. Her eyes widen, and then she reaches in the protective circle of my arms and grabs Daniel. She lifts him halfway out of my arms, and my hands lock around his middle.

  "What the fuck are you doing?"

  He lifts in her hands, and a brief moment of joy breaks over her stricken face before the room echoes with my scream. Then Daniel bursts into a loud wail and she holds him to her breast, bouncing him. He reaches for me, and I wrap my hands around his little body and rip him out of her arms.

  "Don't touch my baby!"

  A look of pure hatred twists Violet's pretty face into something nasty. I've never seen anyone look at me with that much hatred. "He's mine, you fucking cunt."

  The air disappears from my chest just as a man's body slides into mine. Thane's arm slides around my waist and anchors securely just as Violet's expression slides back into one of mute acceptance.

  He's mine. Does she mean Thane, or the baby?

  "You all right?"

  "We need to leave," I tell his stunned face.

  I hold Daniel so tightly against my chest that I'm sure it's uncomfortable, and then I storm toward the exit. No more of this shit.

  Thane catches up to me, his hand on my shoulder slowing me down. "Hey, what the hell happened?"

  I ignore him, my heels slamming on the marble floor like gunshots as I head toward the elevator. The pressure builds behind my face and I want to explode. Fuck him. Fuck her. Fuck this whole place. I just want to go somewhere people won't try to snatch my son out of my arms.

  "Don't walk away from me, Christine."

  "I'm walking away from that crazy bitch!"

  I say it a little too loudly, but from the shocked looks people were giving to each other when Violet ripped the baby from my arms, I don't think I'm the only one thinking the same thing. He grabs my arm as I jab the elevator button with my knee.

  "Christine, what's wrong?"

  I can't take that gentle tone in his voice. For some reason it makes a golf ball-sized lump appear in my throat, and Daniel's heartbreaking cries make everything worse. Thane pulls me into the elevator, and then it shakes from my mouth.

  "She took him from me. Violet told me to give Daniel to her, and I said no, and she took him from me anyway."

  "What?"

  "She ripped him from my fucking arms! I'm his mother, and I don't have a say in who touches my child! That's why I'm fucking upset."

  Thane looks disturbed as he listens to me. "She shouldn't have done that."

  "She called me a cunt."

  His face darkens, but he wraps both arms around me. I take a deep, shuddering breath, inhaling the smell of him. "Forget about her, Christine. She's obviously really fucked up right now."

  "I don't want her in my son's life, and I don't want her in your life either."

  My heart clenches when he kisses my head and rubs my back.

  "I told you that I'm a faithful man."

  "That doesn't mean that she won't try to get you."

  "It's never going to happen."

  "I still don't want—"

  "I was yours the moment I met you."

  The moment I met you.

  Why does it feel like he means longer than two years ago?

  The nervous flight of butterflies dances in my stomach as he touches the tip of my chin, his hard mouth descending over mine. I give in, melting to his touch as I kiss him back. The elevator doors open, but I cling to his chest, still high on that fever-hot desire swirling inside me. Thane's lips stagger with a smile, and he jerks his head.

  "Let's get out of here."

  Arm still wrapped around my waist, he leads me out of the elevator and into the apartment. Thane gently takes Daniel from my arms and kisses him on both cheeks as Daniel squeals.

  “I’ll feed him and put him to bed.”

  “All right.”

  Thane smiles at me as he takes Daniel in the nursery, and I realize I’m smiling. It’s almost as though we’re a real couple, and I can almost forget that only a few weeks ago Thane stole me from my old life to bring me here against my will. And that he’s convinced we’re meant to be together and also—he wants another baby.

  If th
at wasn’t enough, I have a jealous woman with an obsession over my baby and husband. She wants him—I’m certain of that—and I don’t trust her. There’s something really off about that woman.

  I sink into Thane’s couch as details of the murder chase themselves in my head, and then suddenly two hands curl over my shoulders. I jump at the sudden touch, his thumbs digging into my shoulder blades.

  “You’ve got to relax.”

  “A man was murdered.”

  “I know.”

  I turn around to see that Thane changed into a t-shirt in jeans. It hangs off his body, giving me a view of his chest muscles and the tattoos snarled across them. I’m so used to seeing him in a suit that it’s startling for a moment, but he wears them well. Too well. A smirk spreads over his handsome face as he continues to massage me, and I forget why the hell I turned around to snap at him. Right—murder.

  “Why are you—wasn’t he your friend?”

  “Should I stop fucking my wife just because my friend is dead?” He shakes his head. “Life goes on, and we still have to add another life to our family.”

  We have to.

  It’s funny how that doesn’t make me nearly as upset as I thought it would. His lips touch my head, and his hand slips down the neck of my black dress. His hand bulges against the dress’ fabric as he gropes my breast.

  “I haven’t fucked you nearly as much as I should’ve.”

  I grab his hand, stilling his movements.

  “Thane, I don’t feel safe here.”

  “I’m not going to let anything happen to my family. I promise.”

  It’s easy to let his hands soothe me and accept that he’ll take care of everything, but I’ve never been one to sit back while someone else does the work. His hands slide from my neck, and then the couch sinks in with his weight. His heavy arm slides over my shoulders, and he pulls me into his chest just like he used to those few times we’d stay in my apartment. He’s still the same man I knew two years ago, and he knows how to play me so well. My body tingles with the movements of his fingers on my skin, rotating in a circular path.

  “You keep saying that.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I don’t know how you expect me to forget the fact that there’s a dangerous man out there.”

  “The syndicate’s filled with dangerous men,” he says in a low voice.

  And I’m sitting next to one of them.

  For not the first time, I wonder about the life he leads and what the syndicate expects of him. It wouldn’t surprise me at all to find out that he’s murdered a man before. He’d come to me sometimes with a black eye or a sprained wrist, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out why. Thane never gave me excuses, so I made them for him in my head. He’s more of a bouncer than anything else. He got in a fight at a bar—lots of people hate members.

  “I don’t expect you to forget anything.”

  “Our son’s safety is more important than any loyalty you have to this place.”

  “He is not in any danger. Damn, it Christine. Don’t you know me by now? I would never hurt our son.”

  I believe him when he says it, but there’s nothing he can say to convince me that this place is good for him.

  “I don’t know you. We spent a few months together, and then you brought me here—”

  “It was more than just a few months.”

  “No it wasn’t.”

  He shakes his head, looking a little sad. “You don’t remember.”

  Remember what?

  But he doesn’t elaborate.

  “What do you want, Christine? Do you want me to rip that ring off your finger and chuck you and Daniel onto the streets? Because I’m never going to do that—ever. Understand? I am never giving you up.”

  I feel my heart, dimly beating somewhere inside my chest. There’s a part of me that still wants to look at him and tell him to fuck off, but I know that’ll just put me two steps back. “I want my son with me, not with strangers looking after him, and I want Violet far the fuck away from us.”

  Silence ticks on as he teases me with his fingers.

  “I’ll think about it.”

  I sit upright, too angry to speak, until he catches my arm and makes me fall into his lap. His heat surrounds me as his arms snake around my waist, trapping me there.

  “I said I’d think about it.”

  “Don’t expect me to be happy while you make your decision.”

  “I still don’t trust you, sweetheart. You spend most of your nights on this fucking couch than in my bed where you belong, but I know that’s mostly out of pride.”

  “Screw you, Thane.”

  The arms tighten around my waist.

  “If you want me to give in a little, I need to see you making a serious attempt at fitting in here. This is your home.”

  “I really don’t like the idea of doing a trade-off to see my son.”

  “Too bad.”

  I’m so angry that I’m afraid that I’ll say something stupid, so I keep my mouth shut. Thane moves me so that I’m facing him, and his smile falters somewhat.

  “Don’t be angry with me. You’re still the woman I want to have children with. Doesn’t that count for something?”

  Thane pulls me close before I can answer. His forehead rests against mine, his hand kneading the back of my neck.

  My anger floats away, much as I’d like to keep it close to my chest. Can’t do it. Not when he’s touching me like this. I felt like I was crawling through a desert all that time I spent away from him. I did my best and told myself we were better off without him, but it was so fucking hard. There wasn’t a day I didn’t miss having my hands on his rock-hard chest, or buried in his thick hair. I do it now, giving into the comfort that his body gives me. I search for his mouth and feel electricity in the air shared between our lips before I kiss him. He deepens the kiss, grinding his fingers in my hair. I can’t ever just have one kiss with him, especially when his tongue dances with mine. His hands squeeze my waist and then slide under my thighs. Suddenly, he stands up, holding me in his arms as he breaks away from the kiss, starry-eyed.

  Then the dazed look hardens into lust, and Thane’s heavy footsteps crash through the apartment. The door to the bedroom slams the wall as he kicks it open, and then I brace myself, expecting to be thrown on the bed, but instead he lets me down to my feet. I look my husband up and down, from the cock tenting his jeans to the slick smile on his face. He’s mine, and I’m not going to let some bitch fawn over him without reminding him of that fact. I want the control, want to push him in the chair right behind him, but he’s like solid rock.

  Then I grab the irresistible bump in front of his jeans, feeling a thrill when his eyes glaze over with pleasure. I crash my lips against his and push him backward. I manage to get him to take a step back before he plants his foot. He grabs my face and breaks away from my mouth, breathing hard.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I reach around my back and unzip the black dress, and it peels from my body like plastic wrap. Thane’s eyes widen as the dress pools to my feet, the air kissing my naked skin. His cock lengthens as he takes a step forward and grabs my hip, fingers curling around the edge of my thong.

  “Sit on that chair.”

  It’s as though he can’t hear me with my hand on his dick, so I touch his face instead and he reluctantly meets my gaze.

  “Sit.”

  His hands wrap around my waist, smoothing over my ass, playing with the thin strip of fabric. He’s drunk with lust, crashing his lips against mine, until I dig my fingers into his hair and yank hard.

  “I told you to sit down.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”

  “My husband, and I’m tired of letting him get his way all the time.”

  I grab the waistband of his jeans, unzipping his pants to roll my palm over his cock. No underwear. I smile at the sight of his thick cock, so hot in my hands. He leans in to kiss me, and I allow a slow,
heated dance of tongues and lips before pulling back. A growl rumbles deep in his throat. I bend down, pulling his jeans off his muscular ass, letting my hands grope down his powerful legs before he steps out of them. Then I stand back up as Thane rips the shirt off his back. It’s always a pleasure just to look at him. He’s the only guy I’ve even been with whose body is like a work of art. I grab his rock-solid shoulders and push. Thane gives me a little smile as he lets me push me back into the chair, but I’m not an idiot. I know his self-control only extends so far.

  I climb over his lap and raise my hips, one of my hands on his shoulder. Thane grabs my hips, sliding his fingers between the straps of the thong. He slides down, right over the small, triangular patch that guards my pussy from him. It’s already soaked through, but he rubs it with his thumb and I clench in eager anticipation.

  “Is that what you’ve wanted all this time?”

  “I wanted to have my way with you.”

  His eyes burn.

  I grab the cock standing up at attention just as I move my thong to the side. I rise on my knees, pushing the bulbous head over my slick pussy. I keep watching his eyes, which wander all over my tits, and then I sink down. His cock pushes through my aching pussy, and then I force myself over him. I do it fast enough to surprise Thane, who lets out a loud gasp. His smirking eyes go wide. Then I grab the head of the chair, pulling myself up again, feeling him throb inside me, and down again. I use the chair as I impale myself on his cock over and over, crushing my tits against his face. Thane opens his mouth, sucking them in, tongue swirling around my nipples. Then he bites down hard, and I grind my pussy over his cock, feeling his thickness move inside me. His hands move from my hips to my ass, his biceps flexing when he helps me, and then he thrusts upward to meet me. We slap together in wet, obscene sounds, and I twist my fingers in his damp hair to kiss him. We’ve never fucked so hard or kissed like this before. The rhythmic slapping of my ass on his thighs and his deep moans fill my ears. I bounce on him, right on the edge but unable to get myself off, and I cry out.