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Unjustified Demands (Filthy Florida Alphas Book 2)

Page 20

by Rose, Baylee


  My breath lodges in my chest and I’m afraid to fucking turn around—afraid it’s her, afraid it’s not. Jesus.

  “Ladies, if you could, go ahead and move to the kitchen. We can finish in here after Mr. Anthes and I talk.”

  They hustle out, and still I’m unable to turn around. I take the coward’s way out and, instead, walk to the window. I stare out at the rolling green grass of my yard and try to figure out exactly what is going on.

  “What are you doing here, Ana?” I ask when I can’t stand the silence any longer.

  “Bruno and Allen came and got me. They said you needed me.”

  “I didn’t ask them to,” I grumble, my hand coming up to rub my chin.

  “I know. Were they telling me the truth?”

  “About what?”

  “Do you need me, Roman?”

  Yes, my brain screams out, but I don’t say that. I can’t. I go to turn around instead, needing to figure out how to talk to her and make her stay without giving in. “Ana…”

  “Don’t turn around, Roman. If you’re just going to send me away again, keep your back turned to me. You owe me that. I don’t want to have to see your face if all you are going to do is send me away again. I can’t handle that.”

  “Have you missed me, Ana?”

  “With every breath that I draw,” she whispers, and it feels like there’s this fist around my heart. Her confession is raw and maybe I just want to believe it. I’m not sure, but it feels honest. It feels like truth, so I give her one of my own.

  “I miss you too, pet.”

  “Then don’t send me away again, Roman. Let me come home. I know my lies hurt you, but I never lied about anything that was important. I love you.”

  Let her come home. Does she have any idea how much I want that? Does she know what it did to me to know that I pushed her away thinking she had planted evidence on me, only to find out Robert had done it? Does she have any idea the hell I’ve gone through knowing I pushed away my only chance at happiness? I used to think love was a lie invented by Hollywood, a dream created to sell books and movies. Survival was the only thing I understand, and maybe it still is, because I know I need Ana in my life to survive. Without her, I don’t want to. I don’t want to live one more day without her.

  “Ana? Can I turn around now, if I ask you to stay?” I question, my voice thick. I look down at my hands and they’re shaking.

  “Are you going to ask me to stay?” she asks, her voice breaking.

  “No,” I tell her, turning. My eyes instantly lock onto her. “I’m going to beg…” My voice trails off because I’m standing there drinking in the woman I adore. I drink her in, her sun-kissed blonde hair shining, her violet eyes full of tears. The lavender sundress she’s wearing joins in and it all comes together to make her more beautiful than even I remembered.

  The thing that freezes my voice and makes any further words impossible though is the obvious swell of her stomach.

  Ana. My Ana, is… pregnant.

  I see the exact moment Roman discovers I’m pregnant. I’m okay with it. After spending the night in his arms, him holding me even as he was sleeping, him whispering my name when I curled into him, I knew. He might not have said it and maybe he never will, but Roman loves me. That was evident in the way he came unraveled without me, in the way he held me last night. He loves me. I can live without the words because I feel them.

  Still, even knowing that, this morning I was nervous. I was prepared to fight Roman tooth and nail to get him to admit that he needed me. Knowing he’s caving easily makes it all okay.

  “Ana?” he asks, a look of disbelief on his face and maybe, just maybe happiness. My hand goes to my stomach, rubbing it softly.

  “Surprise?” I half tell, half ask.

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “Yeah,” I tell him, panicking. Is he going to get mad about this? Because I didn’t tell him? Will he see that there was no way I was going to force him to accept me in his life, if he didn’t want me?

  “We’re having a baby?”

  I bite my lip and try to remember to breathe.

  “A little boy.”

  “You already know?” he asks, his eyes moving from my stomach to my eyes as he walks to me.

  “Yeah.” I’m unsure of what else to say.

  “We’re having a baby,” he whispers, dropping to his knees in front of me, his large hand caressing each side of my stomach as he places a kiss in the middle of it. Little Roman apparently didn’t like that because he kicks out against his dad’s kiss. Roman’s head snaps back and he looks up at me and I can’t help but smile.

  “I think he might be a football player,” I tell him, placing my hand over one of Roman’s and bringing it back to the spot on my stomach where the baby likes to push. In just a minute or two, I feel the fluttering sensation as the baby delivers a well-timed kick.

  “Oh my God. That’s our baby,” Roman says, at a loss for words and acting in ways I never thought I’d see him.

  “It is,” I tell him, my fingers tangling in his hair.

  “We’re going to have a baby,” he says again, but I see the happiness in his face and something shifts inside of me.

  “We are. We’re going to be a family, Roman.”

  “You’re never leaving me, Ana. I can’t make it without you,” he says, allowing the fear to cloud his eyes briefly before that bone-melting dominant look returns, and his hand wraps in my hair. He brings our lips together for a kiss and right before his claims mine, he murmurs against them. “You’re never getting away from me again, pet.” I let his claim echo through my body, healing the empty spots inside of me that are remaining, and take his kiss. I don’t answer, because there’s nothing else to say.

  I never want to leave Roman. I’m home to stay.

  Roman Allen Anthes was born on November 14th at three in the morning after making me go through forty-two hours of grueling labor and nearly causing his father to go insane. It was all worth it though, and when I look at the child who is turning six months old today, I couldn’t imagine life being more complete.

  “Is mommy’s baby, hungry?” I ask him, reaching down into the crib. He instantly stops crying and he reaches out to me with his little hands, knowing what comes next.

  I take him to the rocking chair that Roman surprised me with when we were fixing up the nursery. It’s a beautiful handmade piece that I will cherish the rest of my life. I pull the strap from my dress and adjust my breast so the baby can begin to nurse. He latches on and greedily drinks up. It took some getting used to, but I love breastfeeding. It sounds hokey, but it feels as if by doing it, I’m affirming nature’s grand design. I even feel beautiful, even if my body is never going to get back to the shape it was in before Roman Jr. decided to wreck it.

  I begin rocking slowly. Not enough movement to jar him, but just a soft, rhythmic movement that he likes. I hum his favorite lullaby. Pretty soon, his hungry grunts and swallows fill the room as his little hand wraps around my finger. I kiss his forehead and commit this to memory. Another beautiful memory in a lifetime of them. That’s what life with Roman has given me. I’m the luckiest woman on the face of the Earth. I feel that in my soul. Roman and I might have started off rocky, but the ride was more than worth it. I wouldn’t change a thing.

  It’s two in the afternoon on a Friday and I’m headed home. I won’t be going back into town until sometime Monday, and honestly, if I had my way, I wouldn’t even then. I make a point of always trying to be home around this time every day. I don’t want to miss it. Ana has no idea the hoops I jump through just so I can be here in time to watch her nurse our son. As I round the corner to the baby’s nursery, I stop as the breath stalls in my chest.

  Ana is humming a song and our child is suckling from her breast, greedily eating. The little grunts he makes fills the room and I smile, but my heart is full. In this room is my world. My complete world. I once thought love didn’t exist, merely survival. I was so fucking wrong. There are no
words.

  Love exists. I look at Ana now and I can’t believe it. I was an asshole. Hell, I still am, in many ways. I used her. I demanded her acceptance, her allegiance, and her body. I held her brother over her head and demanded she give me everything I wanted. I wanted to dominate and own her. My, how the mighty fall. I might have been unfair to her, but in the end, it was her who got the victory.

  She owns me. She controls my world.

  “I love you, Ana.” I tell her and her face jerks up, realizing I’m standing beside her. At my words, tears spring from her eyes. She cries at the drop of a hat these days. I worried about it until she told me that her heart was so full, she couldn’t help it.

  “I love you, Roman,” she whispers, smiling.

  Love isn’t about survival. I made demand after unjustified demand, trying to own and control what no man could. Love isn’t about taking. Love is all about giving. My Ana taught me that, and I’ll spend the rest of my life showing her I learned the lesson well.

  The End.

  I hope you guys enjoyed Roman and Ana’s story. I am already working on a new book and if you like Alpha men claiming their woman hard and fast I think you’ll like it. It will be released much fast than this book. You can look for it in May! Turn the page for a sample of my first book Unlawful Seizure if you haven’t read it. It’s available for 99 cents and free in Kindle Unlimited. You can follow me at any of the links below for more information and keep up to date on what’s happening!

  Baylee

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  Ruthless, Demanding, Wicked and Running from the Law.

  Tessa:

  It was a routine parole hearing, until I get caught in the middle of a prison break.

  Now I’m property of Max Kincaid, Florida Correctional Inmate Number 91428

  I should be terrified.

  I should be demanding my freedom.

  Instead I’m begging him to deliver on all the wicked promises in his eyes.

  The longer I’m with him, the more I need him.

  His touch answers cravings I never knew my body had.

  Now, all I crave is him.

  Max:

  My life ended years ago.

  I have no right to touch Tessa. I should let her go.

  I can’t. Instead, I lose myself in her body.

  I’m living on borrowed time.

  But when the devil comes to collect his due,

  It will be with her taste on my mouth.

  My brand on her body.

  And her name on my lips.

  This Book is a standalone containing one hot alpha and the woman who wants him even more than the cops chasing them both.

  Insta-love, hot fun in the Flordia Sun...or rain and a Happily Ever After guaranteed.

  1

  Tess

  I wake up with a migraine and feeling sick to my stomach. That is sign number one. Sign number two is my horoscope warning me I shouldn’t leave the house today. Sign number three is when I go outside to discover my old, beat up, 1990 something model Toyota, sitting on a flat. I’m stressed out already, and it’s only 7 am. I’m all set to call in sick when my boss calls me with his usual song and dance. I’m sick today Tessa. I really need to take the day off. Clear all my appointments. Make up some excuse for me. What he really means, is he and his wife are flying to Tahoe for the weekend. I know because Claire, the other secretary, let that little tidbit slip.

  When I remind him that Judge Ryson appointed him as counsel in a case that was on the docket this morning, he goes silent. When I inform him it is a parole hearing and can’t be rescheduled, that sick feeling only increases. When he asks me to get Stuart to cover for him, we begin a ten-minute conversation on why Stuart is hopeless and will end up losing the case and destroying a man’s chance for freedom.

  I’m not usually so concerned, but his client today is Max Kincaid, and I’m more than slightly obsessed with this case. Max deserves someone who will actually try to get him free.

  I shouldn’t be that concerned with this case. I should have kept my fat mouth shut because the next thing I know, Charles, my boss, has volunteered me to go before the parole board and present the case as his proxy. I try every way in the world to stress that I can’t do it. I point out that Mr. Kincaid was unlawfully put in jail, and he needs a real attorney looking out for him. I might as well have saved my breath. His response was that I know the case better than anyone and Mr. Kincaid would best be served with me, by his side.

  “Tess you know the law inside and out. You can do this.” Click.

  That’s the only response I get from my final plea for him to do what the freaking state pays him to do. I really should have quit this job ages ago. I haven’t because I can’t afford to. I would have loved to go on to law school, but I put myself through school to get my paralegal license. There’s no way I can work full time to pay back student loans, and go back to school.

  I was stupid enough to think that I would get a job right out of school. Well, not completely stupid. I did get a job immediately—at McDonald’s and then later at Shoe Warehouse and Dollar Mart. I had three jobs and still could barely manage to pay rent on my apartment. It was also an apartment I barely visited, unless it was to collapse on the bed to nap before my next shift started.

  I was drowning in debt from school loans and so tired I could barely hold my eyes open. When I walked into Charles Barger’s, and he offered me a paralegal position, it seemed like the answer to my dreams.

  It turned out to be a nightmare.

  It does keep a roof over my head though and the damn collection calls down. That’s what I remind myself of again today, as I put on my big girl panties and suck it up. It’s a parole hearing and on a case I do, in fact, know inside and out.

  I get my tire changed and head to the office, grabbing the files and things I will need for the hearing, then head straight for the federal prison in Ormond. It takes a good hour to drive there, and the hearing is scheduled to start in forty minutes. That’s when yet another sign from the universe falls in my lap, in the form of a speeding ticket. Fuck my life!

  I try to pay attention to my speedometer the rest of the trip, but it’s hard. My mind is swirling as I go over the facts I need to present to the panel. My boss wasn’t lying when he said that I knew this case better than anyone. The truth is I’ve been consumed with Max Kincaid’s case. I must have read his file a thousand times. I know it’s not healthy. I do. I just can’t seem to make myself stop. I stare at his picture, and something about those dark, inky, onyx eyes call to me. His features seem familiar, even though there’s no way that’s possible.

  I’ve even memorized his information. Max Kincaid, age thirty-six, date of birth February 11, 1979. Dark black hair, black eyes, and three distinct scars. A small one above his right eyebrow, one on his side from an appendectomy he had as a teen, and one jagged scar on his chest he received in the line of duty as a soldier in the Middle East. Max is a hero, awarded the Purple Heart for heroism in battle when he saved his entire platoon from a mortar attack by driving straight into the line of fire and drawing it away from his men. He had more men offer to stand up for him during his murder trial than the judge would allow to testify. By all accounts, Max was the golden boy, the man that women loved, and men wanted to be. His downfall came from loving the wrong woman, marrying her, expecting a child with her and then brutally extracting revenge for their deaths.

  I lay awake at night recounting the facts of the case, and having my heart hurt for the man who lost so much, because of a decision filled with revenge. Truthfully, I’m not sure I wouldn’t have tried to do the same thing as he did if I were in his shoes. A part of me cheers for him. That’s why I’m doing this; but find myself a little giddy at the chance to actually meet Max Kincaid
and be close to him.

  Claire, my co-worker, likes to joke that I’m halfway in love with the man. If she knew some of the dreams I’ve had, that involve Max, she’d be ready to call the men in white coats.

  This is important. This could be the single most important thing I ever do. Not only will I get to meet the man, but I also get the chance to be the one to right a wrong. Yes, he killed a man, and yes, that is wrong. However, the circumstances of the case, the outstanding character witnesses that testified on his behalf and the fact that he has already served five years of his sentence without a single demerit or mark against him, all combine and tell me he should get parole. Now, if I can just convince the court of that.

  I feel strongly that he was wronged. I think I’m supposed to do this. I’m supposed to be the one to rescue him. That’s the real reason why I ignore the signs the universe keeps throwing my way. It’s also why I don’t let the fear that floods me when I drive through the prison gates, after checking in at the guardhouse, overpower me.

  I go through all of the security points at the main entrance and have my files, purse and items searched. I manage only to be five minutes late, but in the end that doesn’t matter since a couple members of the panel are running behind. That will give me a few minutes to meet with Max…I mean Mr. Kincaid before the hearing and go over our battle plan.

  “Could you have Mr. Kincaid brought down now? I’d like to meet with him before our hearing.”

  “You’ll have to wait here until I have the prisoner brought in and settled,” the guard tells me.

  “I…okay. That’s fine. I’ll just wait here.” He doesn’t reply and goes out.

  My heart is beating out of my chest. I need to move past my excitement of getting to meet Max Kincaid and get my mind onto obtaining his freedom for him. It’s another ten minutes; which only serves to increase my nerves, before the guard comes back and escorts me in. For a minute, I think I stop breathing. Max is sitting at a table, and if I ignore the orange jumpsuit, he looks even better than he did in his pictures. His black hair is straight and lays lazily on his head, making it look like someone has lovingly run their fingers through it. His dark eyes pin me immediately and with such intensity it takes all I have not to hesitate when walking towards him. His large hands are lying on the table with chains around them. I know that is normal procedure, but on him it feels wrong.

 

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