by Lexi Aurora
That was enough to throw the old man off his game for real. It looked to Zach like he actually stumbled a little in his pacing. He would have offered him help if he thought he’d take it, but Zach’s dad had never been one for accepting anything he hadn’t already planned on taking for himself. When he looked back at Zach, his face was as hard as stone.
“You knocked her up? How could you have been so stupid?”
“It wasn’t stupid. It just happened.”
“And how can you be sure the kid is yours, exactly? It could be anyone’s.”
"Don't do that, Dad. It's mine." Zach's body was so tight with anger that his chest hurt, and he wondered if a person his age could suffer a heart attack for no other reason than being supremely pissed off. The only thing that kept Zach from flying off the handle was the knowledge that the shitty things his dad was saying only solidified his resolve. He knew now that he was making the right choice if there had ever been any doubt.
“Well? So what if it is? What does she want, money? We’ll pay it. Whatever it takes to either get her to terminate the unfortunate accident or go away and never mention it again.”
“It’s not going to happen. I’m not going to marry Lucille. I’m in love with her, Dad. I love this girl.”
"I don't care," Mr. Jameson answered coldly, full now of what appeared to be his own unfortunate resolve. "Whether or not you love her is of no consequence to me, you, or this family. If you sever ties with Lucille and go to this other woman, you will be cut off from this family. Don't think that I won't do it, either, because I will."
For a minute, Zach and his father stared each other down. All of his life this man had been the shadow he'd had to live in, a figure that inspired both love and fear. Choosing not to accept his money to start a business had been a blow, but it hadn't been enough to move out of that shadow entirely. Always there had been the possibility of this one last threat, the threat that Zach's dad would remove him from the family entirely. Now that the ultimatum was out there in the open, Zach realized there was nothing for him to be afraid of.
“Do what you need to do,” he answered calmly.
“I mean what I say, boy. I am deadly serious.”
"I know you are, Dad. So am I. You do what you need to do, and I'll do the same." Zach turned and walked out of his family home. He had a feeling it would be the last time for a while, but he also knew it wouldn't be forever. That was something his mom wouldn't stand for, and even if she did, he would make it work. At the moment he didn't have any spare energy to worry about that. The only thing he had the energy for was the next stop he needed to make, and that was more than enough for one man to handle. He hadn't seen Betty in a week, and it had felt like the longest week of his life. Matty had been around the hospital and figured out that she had been discharged, but Zach had chosen to stay away. A week was as long as he could make himself do it, though, and by the time he showed up at her door unannounced for the second time, he felt like he would lose his shit completely if he didn't see her face.
"What are you doing here, Zach? I thought I made it pretty clear." Betty hadn't even bothered to check and see who was knocking this time, and Zach felt a momentary flare of irritation. It wasn't safe for her to open the door that way, to anyone who might decide to stop by and see who was home. It made his need to take care of her grow exponentially, and it took more than a little effort for him to keep his cool.
“You did. I’ve never been very good at listening.”
“You don’t say?” she answered, not a trace of a smile on her face.
“Listen, Betty, I can say what I need to say out here in the hallway if you really want me to, but it would be easier if you let me inside.”
“Really? Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to show up and invite yourself into somebody’s house?”
“Probably. Like I said, not a good listener.”
“Fine,” she sighed heavily, “come in. But don’t get comfortable. I doubt you’ll be staying.”
Zach followed her inside and shut the door behind him, taking a moment to lock the latch again before sitting beside Betty on her old, threadbare couch. Betty watched his every movement with unflinching eyes, and he felt the first bit of doubt lodge itself in his heart. Up to this point, he had only thought about seeing her again. That and taking the necessary stance against his father. Now, for the first time, he considered what would happen if she cut him down again. He shook his head quickly, like doing so would shake the thought right out of his head. Betty sat next to him with her back rigid, making a point of looking at anything but him. The only sign that she might also be nervous was her hands, which were turning restlessly in her lap. She looked tired and he wanted to ask her if she was taking better care of herself the way the doctor had instructed, but he was pretty sure that would get him kicked out before he had a chance to plead his case. He glanced around the apartment and caught sight of a suitcase and a pile of boxes not yet put together.
“What’s going on, Betty? Planning on going somewhere?” he asked carefully. He felt like he was walking a tightrope and desperate not to fall off.
“I was thinking about it. I was thinking about going back home.”
“Home?” he asked in surprise, “Why would you do a thing like that?”
"To get away. So I can have some kind of new start. Maybe a new start for me and the baby." Her hands stopped twisting, and she clasped them together tightly. She was holding onto herself so tightly her knuckles were going white, and without thinking about the repercussions, he grabbed one of those hands and clasped it in his own.
“Zach, don’t.”
“You can’t go back there. Why would you want a new start right back in the past you’ve been trying to get away from?” His voice sounded angrier than he meant it to and she stared at him with wide eyes. Some of the anger was gone from her face though, which he was willing to put in the win column.
“What?” he continued, “You think I don’t listen? I do.”
“It doesn't matter. I don’t have any other choice.”
“Okay, maybe. But can I tell you something first?” he asked hopefully.
“I guess so. If you want.”
“I’ve been a fucking moron.”
"Ha! Are you serious right now?" She laughed in surprise. He wasn't sure if she noticed it or not, but her fingers were still intertwined with his. He squeezed them and moved closer to her.
"I'm deadly serious. Everything I've done has been stupid. All the way back to when we first met, and I was such a dick."
“You regret it, don’t you? You regret having done any of this.” She said it like it was a fact and Zach was floored by how decided she sounded on the matter.
“No, Betty. That’s not what I’m trying to tell you at all.”
"Why don't you just tell me, then? I'm tired, Zach. I'm tired all of the time right now, and I don't have the energy for riddles."
“Okay, I can respect that. How about this, then? I think I love you.”
“You think–?” She started, her face immediately flushed.
"No," he interrupted, "I don't think. I know I love you. I didn't know it before, but I know it now."
“You’re just saying that because of the baby.”
“No, I’m not. It was the reason I proposed at first, I won’t lie about that.”
“It would be a stupid lie to tell. I would know it wasn’t true.”
“But it’s not true now. I love you. That marriage proposal, it’s real.”
"We hardly know each other, Zach. You can't want to marry me." Her voice was curious, and she turned her body to face him.
“Maybe, but I still do. And I think I could make you happy. I don’t want you to be anyone other than who you are. I want you to have your store. I want to take care of our kid.”
“You can’t be sure of that.”
"But I am. I'm sure, and I can prove it."
Zach stood up, which was harder than it sounded because of the way his knee
s were shaking. When he pulled the little blue box out of his pocket, she gasped and looked up at him, her eyes wider than ever.
“Zach?”
“Hold on, Betty. I’m kind of trying to do a thing here.”
She laughed, and he heard that her voice was shaking just like his legs. He opened the box to reveal a princess cut diamond measuring in at just over two karats and set in platinum. Her hands flew to her face, covering her mouth, as he dropped down to one knee and held the box out in front of him in offering.
“Look, I can’t promise I won’t ever be an asshole, because I will. I’ve never done anything like this before. Sometimes I’m slow to learn.”
“What an eloquent start,” she laughed shakily.
"I'm telling the truth with you from now on. I might do stupid things, but I promise you that I'll also do everything in my power to give you a beautiful life. We'll make a new life for both of us, and our baby will always know what it means to be loved."
“I don’t know what to say.”
"I have a suggestion if you're interested in hearing it."
"Yes," she said suddenly, "yes. The answer is yes." She spoke uncertainty at first but the second time with conviction. He practically lunged forward, taking her face into his hands and kissing her deeply, a kiss that was better than all of the others they had shared combined. It was better because this one was real because it meant for her what he'd come to realize it meant to him. His hands moved through her hair and caressed her back before lifting her shirt up over her head. Her perfect breasts were unencumbered by a bra, and she arched her back so that they fell more fully into his hands. His head dipped, and he licked her nipples, one and then the other until her breath came out in ragged gasps. She clung to the back of his shirt, her nails raking up and down his back and pulling at him, pulling him on top of her while she used her legs to shimmy out of her sweats.
“Are you sure?” he gasped as her fingers fumbled with the buckle of his belt and finally freed him. “Are you sure about this?”
“About which?” She laughed, “About the sex or the marriage?”
“I don’t know. Both?”
"The answer is yes. Yes to both. I love you, Zach. I love you, and I want to feel you."
It was something she didn't need to ask him for twice. She spread her legs for him, and he rose up on top of her, guiding himself into her with an urgency that bordered on madness. She arched her back again when he entered her, her eyes shut tight and her head shaking helplessly from side to side. She wrapped her legs around his hips and he plunged deeper into her, his hips rocking and finding a rhythm that was impossibly sweet. Her arms flew over her head, reaching for the arm of the couch. Her breasts bounced with each thrust of his hips, her own hips rising to meet his movements greedily. When she came, she screamed out her ecstasy, calling his name over and over again until he hardly recognized it. He didn't want it to end, but he understood that he couldn't stop himself. He came, letting out a fierce growl that sounded more beast than man. When it was over, he rolled off of her, pulling her onto his chest and kissing the top of her head.
“Are you sure?” she whispered, “Will you be happy?”
“I will be. I’m happy already.”
And so he was, and so they would continue to be.
THE END
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PREVIEW: Wrong for Me by Lexi Aurora
CHAPTER 1: TYLER
I looked around the apartment as the movers carried things in around me. It was spacious, large and open, with a big kitchen that I knew I would barely use, and a front room with a fireplace that had been lit by the real estate agent before I’d gotten there. It was meant to be welcoming and it was—I had made a good choice in deciding to move after my younger sister had taken over my apartment with her constant partying, and I had a feeling that this apartment was a good place for me to start a quiet life by myself.
I went downstairs to help unload the truck, incapable of just sitting around while they did it all themselves. I was tired by the time we were finished, having carried countless boxes into the apartment, and by the time the movers left, I had sunken down onto my couch. It was suddenly quiet—much quieter than it had always been with my sister around. Suddenly, the silence felt almost uncomfortable. I looked around at the boxes on the floor, picking one up and unpacking the radio inside. I had just plugged it in when there was a knock on my door. I wiped my hands on my jeans and went to it, opening it up to see a stunning woman on the other side. She was tall and blonde, dressed inappropriately for the weather in a small, tight dress that accented her body, the length of her slim legs.
“Hi,” I said, smiling at her. She was just my type, the kind of girl I always went for.
“Hey,” she said, and already there was a flirtatious tone in her voice. “I saw you just moved in. I wanted to come introduce myself. My name is Amanda Springer.”
“Tyler Norton,” I said to her, taking her hand and shaking it. She held mine for a long moment, her eyes sparkling on mine. She was obvious good at this, flirting with men, getting her way no matter what.
“So since you’re new here, I thought that we could get to know each other,” she said. “I noticed that nobody else seems to live here? No roommate or girlfriend?”
“No, it’s just me,” I said to her. I recognized the tone of her voice and knew that she knew who I was. She looked to me to be a model, and I wasn’t surprised that she was flirting—it was something that happened often with some of the women who thought that it might give them a boost in their career, and getting involved with that wasn’t something that I was the least bit interested in.
“Would you like to come down to my apartment for a drink?” the woman asked, her voice a seductive purr. “We could get to know each other. I have a feeling we’d get along.”
“No, I uh—I’m actually having some friends over,” I said, trying to make my voice apologetic. I really didn’t want to spend any time with her; I was trying to stay away from women, not interested in doing my usual old thing. I had started to feel like I was getting too old to be some sort of playboy, and though I had no intention of settling down, I had thought it best to be on my own for a while.
“Great,” she said brightly, completely missing the dodge. “Hanging out in a group is always fun. What time, do you think? Maybe in a couple of hours?”
“Um,” I said awkwardly, not knowing what to say. I felt like I couldn’t exactly reject her flat-out without being rude, though I had no particular interest in spending any time with her. “Yeah. A couple of hours.”
“Great,” she said, then disappeared down the stairs. I stared after her, blown away by her boldness. From the way she looked, that expertly flirtatious look in her eye, I knew that she was used to getting her way. She probably didn’t even think that there was a chance I might have rejected her. I shook my head, exasperated, knowing those kinds of women—they were always bold, always got what they wanted with just a wink and a pretty smile.
I closed the door and went back into the living room, pulling out my phone to send a group text to some close friends. I was glad that I had decided to have them over—it would be nice to spend my first evening in the new apartment with people I enjoyed being around, even if Amanda had invited herself to crash the party.
My front door opened and I saw Trixie, my sister walk in, as usual not bothering to knock. Trixie was younger than me, only just twenty-four, and had all the energy in the world. She bounced right into the apartment and immediately gave herself a tour, walking through each room.
“You could have so many great parties in here,” she said. I shook my head.
“No more of your blow-outs. I’m keeping this place low-key. I’m getting too old for this.”
“You’re only thirty-one,” she pointed out. “That’s hardly old.”
“It’s time for me to chill out,” I said to her, going to the fridge and pulling out a beer for her. I
opened it and handed it to her, watching in exasperation as she downed the whole thing in a few large gulps, then picked up another and popped the top off.
“You are nuts,” I said to her when the doorbell rang, and I went to it to see my friends Aaron and Roger on the other side. They both grinned at me, looking around when I invited them in.
“This place is huge,” Aaron said as he took a seat on the couch next to Roger. “No wonder you moved out. You starting a family we don’t know about?”
I snorted. “Not a chance.”
“You should settle down,” Trixie teased. “You’re getting old.”
I rolled my eyes at her, sitting across from my friends as she plopped down into a chair. It was a few moments later that Amanda arrived, showing up in an even smaller dress than she’d been wearing before. She gave me a seductive smile, presenting a bottle of champagne.
“Thought we could celebrate,” she said, winking at me. I smiled at her and invited her in, looking over her shoulder at my sister, who looked over Amanda with her eyebrow raised.
“Who is this?” Trixie asked, a judgmental tone in her voice. I shot her a look, warning her not to be rude. Trixie had a habit of showing exactly how she felt about someone and not hiding her disdain at all, something that, at times, didn’t go over well at parties. She was known to get in trouble with people sometimes, and I only hoped she would keep her mouth shut and behave with Amanda around.
“My name is Amanda,” the woman said, sitting down in the chair I had been sitting in. I went into the kitchen and poured several glasses of champagne, passing them out to each person. When Amanda noticed that I had moved to the couch she stood up, not so subtly moving closer to me. Trixie stifled a laugh and I shot her an annoyed look.
“So what do you do?” Amanda asked me, inevitably taking the seat next to me, her thigh touching my own. “If you don’t mind me asking.”
I grinned at her, having to force it. I knew very well that she knew exactly what I did and who I was.
“I’m the CEO of Les Chic,” I said. “The—”