His Secret Baby (A Bad Boy Romance)

by Waltz, Vanessa

  She bites her lips as she positions herself over my cock, sliding my head between her folds. I let go of her tits, pinching her nipple in between my thumb and forefinger. Her mouth opens in a small gasp.

  “What the fuck did I say about teasing?”

  The high-pitching sound of her gasps hit my cock as if her tongue slid down my length. Her nipple turns white. She starts to smile, but stops when she realizes I’m not fucking around.

  “Not to do it.”

  “Good. Now take my cock.”

  I rip my hand across her ass, loving the sting on the palm of my hand. Fawn bites her lip, looking shocked that I actually spanked her.

  “Did you just spank me?”

  The air cracks with another loud spank as I smack her ass again, grinning. “Plenty more where that came from, sweetheart. Now shut up and fuck me.”

  Fawn sinks down without another word as I grasp her hips. She tilts her head back, screwing up her face as my cock slides through her tight pussy. I should wait, but I’m horny as fuck. I thrust my hips upward as I pull her down, forcing her to take me.

  She cries out, wrapping her arms around my head. I bury my face in her tits as my cock throbs inside her. Fawn wants to rise, but I keep myself sheathed inside her.

  “You need to get used to me, baby.”

  My hips drop as she makes another high gasp, but this time I reach into her tangled blonde hair and I crush her cherry-red lips against mine. I slam my hips into her again, and she cries into my mouth. I fucking love it.

  “Now fuck me.”

  Red faced, she sits back and bounces on my cock, her ass smacking my thighs as I watch her pussy slide up and down my cock. I watch her slowly get into it. Her pussy grinds against my hips and her body undulates as she hits the right spot. She moans, her fingers tightening in my hair as she leans forward. Her tits bounce in my face. It’s the hottest thing in the world. I play with her body, pinching her nipples as she rides me hard.

  “That’s it. Use my cock to get yourself off.”

  My cock throbs harder. Blood roars in my ears as she falls against my chest, completely uninhibited, screaming her fucking head off. Silas! Silas! For a split second, I want to tell her my real name so that I can hear it from her mouth. I bite a mouthful of her tits, my arms wrapped around her back. I knead her ass, cracking my palm over her skin, but she doesn’t give a shit. She’s totally into it, her eyes squeezed shut. Jesus Christ, I can’t take much more of her tits in my face. The pressure builds behind my cock as her pussy grinds me, and then I meet her downward motions by thrusting upward, moaning when our bodies connect over and over.

  “Fuck!”

  I feel her come as she sinks down, clenching hard as I kiss her again. I crush my lips against hers, tasting my cock on her tongue, drinking in her moans as her orgasm shakes through me. And then my body explodes. She lets out another rough cry as I thrust hard, filling her deep as she curls her fingers in my hair and kisses me over and over. It feels different. There’s a starry look in her eyes when she pulls back, and tenderness in her lips when she leans forward to kiss me. I savor the kiss, allowing the tingling feeling to dance across my skin.

  She breathes into my neck, her body curling against mine. My skin blazes as she traces the muscles on my chest.

  “What’s that?”

  She points to the crude-looking tattoo that I got when I was twelve, the dumb little gang I was part of when I lived in the city.

  The Powell Street Crew.

  “It’s just a stupid kid thing.”

  “Doesn’t look like a stupid kid thing,” she says in a low voice, tracing the gun. “Looks like a gang symbol.” Her hand pauses. “Wait, this looks a lot like the Powell Street Crew. Were you with that Viper guy?”

  With him? No, I was never with Viper.

  I remember the day I got it etched into my skin. The boy who drew the tattoos used a ballpoint pen and needle. Achilles—Viper—helped pin me down as Pepper stood behind the boy, a proud smirk on her face.

  Pepper. The body on the beach. The boy with the round face and the limp. He was kissing her, and then his hands were wrapped around her throat. Every rasping breath was like a knife to my chest, but I was paralyzed. I sat there. I did nothing.

  Shame clenches my stomach as I picture myself, the boy who hunched behind a couple rocks like a fucking coward and did nothing as his friend was killed. Long after he was gone from the beach, I stayed behind those rocks, my teeth clenched over my fist as tears burned down my face.

  Shame.

  I hate that fucking kid. That’s not who I am. I don’t hide. I don’t stand aside.

  I’ve got to get Viper. I’ve got to kill that son of a bitch.

  “What did I say?”

  Her tone is bewildered, and I turn around to see her clutching the sheets to her neck as if my sudden chill affected her, too.

  “We’ll get along a lot better if you stop with the questions.”

  “I want to get to know you.”

  “Just fucking leave it.”

  This place is making me remember things I haven’t thought about in years. My stomach churns with that nauseated feeling every time I think about her body lying prone on the beach. Why the fuck did she have to follow him all the way out there? Why the hell didn’t she listen to me? Kill Achilles, I told her. Or he’ll kill you. No, she said. I can control him.

  She couldn’t.

  Fawn rips back the covers, nearly hitting me in the head with her arm.

  “What’s your problem?”

  “You are such an asshole.”

  It’s not the first time I’ve heard those words, but it’s the first time in my life that I actually feel bad about them. I catch her wrist before she can leave the bed, and she spins in my arms, falling back into the mattress. She tries to yank herself out of my grasp, but I wrap my arms around her waist and she lets out a frustrated sigh as I pull her into my chest.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I’m sorry for fucking up your life.

  “I’m just not used to being around somebody all the time. I’m not sure I know how.”

  “Well, this is going to be a really awkward arrangement if every time I try to make small talk, you have a freak-out.”

  Fawn crosses her arms over mine, unyielding. She’s going to be living with me, for fuck’s sake. Why did I agree to do that?

  Guilt.

  Oh. Right.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She holds up a hand. “You know what? Save your fake-ass apologies. I can see right through them.”

  Well, fuck.

  “Let me make it up to you. I’ll take you out tonight. We’ll have a good time.”

  “Take me out? Like—on a date?”

  I smile into her hair as she fights to keep the glee out of her voice.

  Jackpot.

  “Yeah.”

  “Where?”

  I think for a minute. “Around town. Maybe Embarcadero.”

  Her arms drop to her sides, giving me a fantastic view of her tits. “I—I don’t know.”

  “What?”

  A violet blush creeps over Fawn’s face. “Nothing.”

  I sit up on my arms, curious. “Oh, come on. Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Tell me.”

  “No,” she says in a harder voice.

  I launch out of the bed and grab her waist. She screams as I fling her onto the mattress and pin her arms over her head with one hand. Then I tickle her sides, seizing her flesh so that she belts with laughter.

  “Stop!”

  “Tell me!”

  I laugh as she bucks against me madly, trying to throw me off. I continue my assault on her creamy skin.

  “Stop! Stop! I’ll tell you. Jesus!”

  Enjoying the cute, furious look on her face, I release her hands. Fawn sits upright, the blush returning to her cheeks.

  “I’ve never been on a date.”

  “What?”

  Even I’ve been on a date. A
girl like Fawn should’ve had boys knocking on her door. Unless, of course, the boys were told not to knock.

  My surprise seems to irritate her. She makes a huffing sound and folds her arms over her chest. “My dad never let me go on dates, let alone sit in the same room as a boy.”

  “You’ve never been on a goddamn date?”

  “No,” she snaps. “And you shouldn’t rub it in.”

  Jesus. I knew her dad was protective, but this is taking it to a far creepier level. Suddenly I don’t feel guilty.

  “I’m not.”

  Fawn glances at me, her eyes gleaming. “I don’t have any clothes to go on a date with you, anyway.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “They took everything I owned after my dad died. My books, my clothes, everything. I don’t have a goddamn bra to my name.”

  “That’s bullshit. What the hell are you supposed to wear?”

  She shrugs miserably. “Whatever the whorehouse gave me, I guess.”

  Fawn jumps back as I rip the sheets off my legs, suddenly seized by a foul mood. This whole place is a fucking nightmare, designed to subjugate every last member. I decide that I don’t have a tolerance for it anymore.

  “What are you doing?”

  I grab a pair of jeans from the floor, not even bothering with underwear. It’s too hot inside for me to consider wearing a shirt, so I just slam my feet into my boots and lace up the ties.

  “Hey.”

  “I’m getting your shit back.”

  Now it’s her turn to look bewildered.

  “But, you can’t. Silas!” She stares openmouthed after me as I grab my keycard and walk out the door.

  The dimmed hallway lights brighten as I walk in the middle of the corridor. I don’t know where the fuck these people are, but it doesn’t really matter. My arm slams against the first door that I see. I keep walking, ramming my fist against every door, startled screams erupting from inside. Then I feel a tiny hand tugging at my wrist.

  Fawn is back in her red dress, the one that I carelessly ripped the night before. I can see threads sticking out from the cheap fabric, and that bolsters my determination.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I told you.” I bend down, kissing her open mouth. “Getting your stuff.”

  “Okay,” a loud, obnoxious voice calls out. “What the hell is going on here?”

  I slide an arm around Fawn’s bare shoulders, smiling at a man with a cleft chin. “My girl wants her fucking clothes back, and you’re going to give them to her.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Fawn tries to unglue herself from my side. “He wasn’t one of the people.”

  “But they live on this floor, don’t they?”

  “Yeah.”

  Grabbing her hand, I continue walking down the hall. Every door I pass gets a violent kick. My voice bellows down the hall as Fawn’s body presses up beside me.

  “Fawn Haines wants her shit back! She wants her clothes, her DVDs, her books, and whatever the fuck else you took from her.”

  A man stumbles out of his room, running a broad hand over his eyes before he glares at Silas. “What is the matter with you? People are sleeping!”

  “Then they can wake the hell up and give me what I want.”

  His wife, wrapped in a throw blanket, gives us an owlish look. “Ben, what is he talking about?”

  He shrugs, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Silas! It’s her.” She stares openmouthed. “She’s one of the people who looted my apartment.”

  “Right.”

  “We can’t do anything about it!”

  Ignoring that, I drag her to the man and his annoyed wife. “You’re going to let us in your place, and Fawn’s going to take back everything that belongs to her.”

  By now a crowd has gathered around us, and I’m pleased to see that a few of them look ashamed of themselves.

  “Everything you took from my girlfriend’s apartment now belongs to me. I want that shit back, and I want it back now.”

  A few people scurry back to their apartments, but the asshole in front of me hasn’t budged.

  “Go fuck yourself.”

  He’s such a small guy that I practically swallow his face with my bare hand. Then I shove him backward and step around his shrieking wife to burst into his apartment. Fawn follows me into the warmth, laughter on her face.

  She gasps, pointing at a vase on an end table. “That’s mine!”

  “Well, go get it.”

  Fawn beams at me in a way that makes me think we might not have time to go on our date after all. She grabs the flowers in the vase and throws them on the floor, dumping out the water in a loud splash.

  Screaming hits my ears like a punch. Ben’s wife launches herself at Fawn, who clutches the vase to her chest.

  “It’s mine.”

  Ben’s wife tearfully points at Fawn. “She’s taking our things!”

  “Our things?” Fawn asks in a scandalized voice. “This is mine, bitch.”

  “What did you say to me?”

  “I called you a bitch. A thieving bitch.”

  Though I’m pretty keen to see Fawn beat the shit out of this girl, I step between them, wrapping an arm around Fawn’s waist. I try not to grin at their outrage.

  Ben approaches me with his hands curled into fists. “You can’t take that.”

  I push Fawn behind me. “You’re welcome to try and stop us.”

  The color drains from his face as I straighten myself. I’m a whole head taller than he is. His Adam’s apple bounces as his eyes slowly rake over my biceps and chest.

  Grabbing her arm, I flash a smirk at them both and lead her back into the hallway. Behind us, I hear his wife scream, “Are you just going to let him go?”

  “Look at the size of him! What the hell do you expect me to do?”

  The deserted hallway erupts with our laughter, and once we return to my apartment, there’s a small pile of things. Fawn lets go of my hand and drops down, rifling through the pile of clothes.

  “Wow,” she says, holding up a flat gray Kindle. “They actually brought it back.”

  “This isn’t everything.”

  “Honestly it’s more than I’d ever thought I’d see back.”

  I bend down, helping her carry everything back into our apartment. She sets the vase down on the kitchen counter, and then she piles the rest of her things over the coffee table. She turns her back to me, slowly pawing through the pile as I walk closer to her.

  “Are you okay?”

  She whirls around, her eyes shining with tears. Then she runs into my chest, her mouth pressed against my skin. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Open up, Silas!”

  I don’t even jump when I hear the voice outside my door, followed by a vicious pounding. My eyes roll in my head. I guess Ben finally plucked up the courage to fight back.

  My lips press against Fawn’s head, and then I walk toward the door.

  “You’ve been charged with the murder of Ryan Haines.”

  Fuck.

  A swift pain pierces through me as confusion flutters over Fawn’s face. “I’m sorry.”

  They swipe their keycard through, and I manage to yank my shirt over my head as the door bursts open.

  Fawn still looks confused. “The murder of— What the hell?”

  Three grim-faced syndicate men spill into my suite, and I raise a hand.

  “I’m here.”

  “Silas, you’ve been charged with Ryan Haines’s murder—”

  “What?”

  Inwardly I wince at the anger in her voice.

  “You’re to be escorted to the throne room immediately.”

  Where I’ll probably be executed.

  Fawn’s eyes stab at me. “Silas, what are they saying?”

  “They’re saying that I killed your dad.”

  She pleads with me, searching me for a shred of
denial. She won’t find any. I’ll own up to it.

  “I’ll tell them that you were with me!”

  I hate the sound of my own voice.

  “Fawn, I killed him. I visited your room afterwards.”

  I’m prepared for the hatred, for the screaming curses hurled at me as they slap a pair of handcuffs over my wrists. Fuck, I want her to hate me at this point. But I can’t take that devastated wail and her eyes welling with tears. And worst of all is the sound she makes—a heartbroken sob that makes my chest cave in.

  * * *

  The syndicate men shove the small of my back as the elevator doors open, and my eyes wander down the red and gold hallway, opening to a huge, richly decorated throne room. There are paintings of what look like Chinese emperors on the wall. The gold-leaf trimmings on the crown molding are peeling, but it’s still an impressive space, and the Council members sit in a row behind a massive table on a dais. Behind them to the right, I see him. Viper.

  Two-faced bastard.

  I’m not going to give him the satisfaction. I’m not going to beg.

  My heartbeat pounds like a drum in my ears. They escort me in front of the Council, my eyes resting on that empty seat and feeling another sharp pang. A man decked out in blood-red robes stands next to me. A giant broadsword is clutched between his gloved hands, the point resting on the floor. The fucking executioner.

  “He confessed to the murder.”

  I yank my shoulder out of his grip and stare at one of them—an older man who looks like he has a foot in the grave.

  “Let him tell us.”

  Should I rat Viper out?

  “Yes, I killed that piece of shit. I slit his throat and let him bleed to death.”