Wicked Choice (The Wicked Horse Vegas #4)

by Sawyer Bennett

  I rub it around her clit lazily while I stare at what I’m doing. Rachel moans, swivels her hips, and curses under her breath. I ignore her, fascinated with how responsive her body is to me even though she just came spectacularly moments ago. I press against her clit harder, rub a little faster. Rachel’s breath comes out in choppy little pants.

  “Fuck,” she barks as her hips shoot off the bed. It catches me by surprise since I didn’t think she’d come that fast, but I slip a finger back inside and sure as shit, her muscles ripple all around me as the orgasm takes control of her body.

  She lets out a huge huff of relief as she sags back down into the mattress. I pull my finger out, giving a tiny flick to her clit before bringing my hand back up to rest across the lower part of her stomach.

  My gaze travels up to her face, which is flushed and sweaty. She glares at me, which I find comical. She fucking enjoyed that as much as I did.

  But then I notice something. I glide my palm over her belly and muse almost, “Is it me, or are you beginning to show?”

  Rachel’s head lifts from the pillow, and she looks down at her stomach. “I thought I was just feeling a little bloated, but… maybe.”

  I lift my hand, and we stare at her abdomen.

  And yes… it’s got the tiniest, most barely perceptible pooch to it.

  “Now that, Miss Hart, is sexy as fuck,” I say, looking back to her with a grin.

  She rolls her eyes. “You won’t be saying that when I’m waddling around, all fat and miserable.”

  “Now there you’re just wrong,” I assure her. “Knowing it’s our kid in there, I’m going to be turned on and horny as shit the entire time.”

  “Well, that’s good,” she quips. “Because I’m perpetually horny.”

  “It’s me, right? Not the hormones.” I waggle my brows.

  “Sure, baby,” she says, lifting a hand to pat me condescendingly on the cheek. “If that’s what you want to believe.”

  “Let’s put that to the test,” I tell her with a low growl. I capture her hand in mine, dragging it down my body. I force her fingers to wrap around my dick, which should be spent and utterly happy right now. It jumps at her touch and I squeeze my hand around hers, causing her to squeeze me. “Return the favor I just gave you. Hand only.”

  Rachel’s eyes go from glacial blue to a dark indigo. She sucks in a harsh breath in between her nostrils, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth. Rolling toward me, she starts to stroke my cock and I let my hold on her hand go.

  “That’s not pregnancy hormones,” I murmur, holding back a groan of appreciation as she jacks me. “That’s all you, wanting to get me off.”

  She doesn’t argue.

  Just rolls further into me so she can press her lips to the base of my throat. She kisses and licks at me, all the while stroking my dick with the perfect amount of pressure and speed. I’ve never been one for hand jobs. Rather have a mouth on me, but fuck if this doesn’t feel just as good as when she was just fucking me.

  And I’m not ashamed to admit that.

  It’s all Rachel.

  My cock goes fully hard and in no time, Rachel’s jerking me frantically. My balls tighten with an impending orgasm, and without any real thought, I bat Rachel’s hand away. I roll on top of her, take my cock in hand, and shove it inside of her still-wet pussy.

  She screams, clawing at my back, and I explode inside of her. My head drops to her shoulder, and I groan deeply as I fill her back up again. I can’t get her any more pregnant than she is, but fuck if I don’t like my cum inside of her.

  I roll back off, flop to my back, and take some deep breaths to get my heart rate back under control. She’s the one who now rolls toward me, elbow to mattress and head in her hand.

  She grins down at me in triumph. “That was hot as hell.”

  “You give excellent hand jobs,” I tell her with a return smirk.

  “I like you coming inside of me,” she says, her voice going soft and breathy. Her hand strokes down my chest, to my stomach, and finally grazes along my softening dick that I’m pretty sure will be dead for a while. Still, I love the touch of her on me, even if it’s just with post-fucking affection.

  “You ready for our visit next week?” she asks, and all thoughts of sex are forgotten.

  Exactly a week from today, we see Dr. Anchors as Rachel will be close to the end of her first trimester. I had been tentatively scheduled to do security detail for a politician flying into Vegas, but Kynan easily replaced me so I could go with Rachel.

  “I am.” I cover her hand with mine, pulling it up to hold against my chest. I turn to face her on the bed. “But nothing fun is going to happen.”

  Rachel laughs. I’m going crazy waiting for the first ultrasound, but that won’t happen until she’s at least sixteen weeks. Dr. Anchors didn’t think it was medically necessary on her first visit since she was in such great health with no risk factors other than her age of thirty-five.

  “We have to decide if we want to do the amniocentesis,” she says as she glances down to where our hands are interlocked. I expect her to pull away from me at any time, because Rachel’s never been big into affection or post-coitus snuggling.

  She doesn’t, though.

  “You have to decide,” I say with emphasis. “That’s totally up to you. Fuck if I’d want a damn needle stuck in my belly like that.”

  Giving my hand a squeeze, she says, “I’d do it if you want me to. I think he said the time to do it would be between fourteen and sixteen weeks.”

  Her eyes search mine, perhaps trying to discern my true feelings, but I know what they are. “It isn’t necessary, Rachel. Even if it showed abnormalities, I’d still want the baby.”

  A tenderness I’d never seen before takes over her entire face, and her hand squeezes mine again but doesn’t relax. It grips me tightly, and her smile is soft. “Yeah… I know that about you. You’d want the baby no matter what. But would you like to know so we can be prepared?”

  I don’t bother pointing out to her that she said “we” instead of “you”. She almost makes it sound like a team effort after the birth, but I think that was merely a slip of her tongue.

  However, she brings up a good point. If we knew there was a problem ahead of time, we could at least be better prepared to welcome him or her into the world.

  So the baby could have every need met.

  “Maybe we should,” I muse.

  “We should,” she says confidently. “I don’t like the unknown.”

  CHAPTER 16

  Rachel

  I pull my shirt down before running my fingers through my wet hair, which is the most attention it will get right now. Besides, it always looks best when I just let it naturally dry.

  After putting my sweat-soaked clothes in my gym duffel, I close my locker and rotate the combo. Only thing left is to put on fresh socks and my tennis shoes, and then I have to head across town to meet Bodie at Dr. Anchors’ office.

  Sal walks into the locker room, a towel wrapped around his sweaty neck. He’d been in the gym lifting by himself, and we just quietly disregarded each other while I was working out. The gym is usually empty in the afternoons, most of us preferring to get our workouts in early. Today I was sidelined with some nausea when I woke up. By the time I was feeling better, I had time for just a quick run and a short kettle bell workout.

  Sal’s eyes lock with mine, and he gives me a nod in greeting.

  “Sal,” I respond back politely.

  I pull my first sock on while Sal opens his locker, which is just three down from mine. When he closes it, holding a shave kit and a fresh towel in hand, he surprises me by sitting down on the opposite end of the bench from where I’m sitting.

  “What’s up?” I ask while I put my other sock on.

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry,” he says gruffly. “For questioning you.”

  I shrug, not wanting to make a big deal of it. “It was legit.”

  “No, actually… it wasn’t. You
know I’ve got no qualms with the fact you’re a woman, Hart. You know I’d gladly march into battle with you. I should have trusted you when you said you were capable despite the pregnancy. I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

  I freeze with my sock halfway on my foot, my mouth dropping slightly in disbelief. Sal’s not the type to admit he’s wrong, so this is big.

  “You know I’m old school,” he continues, which spurs me to finish putting on my sock. I drop my leg to the floor and listen. “And I think that just sort of came out badly. But when I stepped back, and thought about all the things we’ve been through over the years, I realized I trusted you to tell us the truth if you couldn’t do your job. I know you’d never put any of us in harm’s way, just so you could keep doing what you love.”

  Yes, I’ll admit… some of it might be hormonal, but the genuine rush of affection and care I feel toward Sal right this moment overwhelms me. I have to struggle not to leap on him and give him a big bear hug.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, the sincerity and rush of gratitude making my voice quaver. “That means a lot because I respect you so much as a teammate.”

  Sal’s face is usually hard and intimidating, but it softens tremendously. “And I’ll try to not tease you so much… seeing as how you’re all hormonal and everything.”

  I lean across the expanse of the bench and punch him hard in his right pec. He’s so fucking built, though, my knuckles ache.

  He just laughs at me, pulls his sweaty towel from around his neck, and mops at his face. When he’s looking at me again, his expression sobers. “But still…I know this is hard for you. Your life is getting ready to drastically change, and I know motherhood is going to cut in on your work at Jameson.”

  My face immediately flushes hot with embarrassment as I realize… this is the first person outside of Kynan and Jerico who has mentioned what happens after the birth. Sal just assumes I’m going to be involved, and if ever there was a time I’ve doubted my decision, it’s now. Because no matter how progressive my teammates are regarding me being a woman on the team, there’s still the expectation I’m going to raise the baby.

  When that expectation is not met, I’m going to look like a total douche to my Jameson family, and yes… that embarrasses me. For the first time, I consider perhaps leaving Jameson after the birth and starting a new life somewhere.

  In a place where people won’t know I abandoned my baby because not only was I not ready to be a mom, but also because I was terrified that I wouldn’t be a good mom. Being a mother meant a commitment and responsibility I’d never been quite able to handle. It’s why I’ve never had a serious relationship before, and I just know inherently I’d be bad at it.

  “That’s a totally and seriously fucked-up look on your face right now, Hart,” Sal observes, and I raise my head, blinking at him stupidly.

  But I can’t lie, because the truth will come out eventually. The whole “Bodie taking the baby to Nebraska” will make it quite clear to everyone.

  I pick at the shoestrings on my tennis shoe sitting on the bench, refusing to look at Sal. “Um… I’m actually not going to raise the baby.”

  I look up tentatively to find Sal staring at me in shock.

  “Then who is?” he practically stammers. It never even occurs to him that it would be the father.

  “Bodie,” I tell him after a hard swallow, which is nothing more than me trying to push down the knot of shame that’s threatening to come up. “He’s going to go home to Nebraska so his parents can help him.”

  Sal whistles low and shakes his head. “Damn, Hart. Talk about gender-role reversals.”

  I raise my chin a little and give the same spiel I’d given Kynan and Jerico. “I’m just not ready to give up my career.”

  Sal tells me something I already know, because Kynan and Jerico both told me the same thing. “You wouldn’t have to give it up. Who said you couldn’t be a mother and a badass mercenary? I mean… plenty of women go off to war and leave their kids back home with their husbands. This is the twenty-first century, Hart. You need to move into it.”

  My head bows down not in shame, but in frustration. Yes, I know this. He’s right. Kynan’s right. Jerico is right. I can totally keep doing this job and be a mother, particularly with Bodie raising the baby right beside me. I can’t use that as an excuse anymore, and that leaves me feeling off balance and panicky.

  I’m not overly close to Sal. We have a mutually respectful working relationship and a trusted bond that we’d protect the other. But we don’t hang out as friends, and we’ve never had a meaningful discussion unless an argument we once had over the best whey protein powder on the market counts.

  So, I’m totally surprised at myself when I look back up to him and blurt out, “I don’t think I can be a mom.”

  Sal’s chin jerks inward and his eyebrows rise high. “Shut the fuck up, Hart. You can totally be a mom.”

  The feelings of panic and desperation start to constrict my chest. I shake my head, my voice almost shrill. “No, I can’t. What do I know about being a mom? I’m hard and no nonsense. If my kid fell and scraped his knee, I’d tell him to get up and rub some dirt in it. I am not mother material.”

  Rather than empathize, Sal laughs. Literally throws his head back and laughs from deep in his gut. When he finally looks at me, it’s with gentle reproach as he shakes his head. “You’re totally equipped to be a mom. You’re loyal and dedicated. You’d protect your kid’s life with your own, and you’d never let anything bad happen to it. You’d give it the best opportunities, sacrificing yourself to do so. You’d be calm and steady and completely unflappable. That’s all great mother material, and do you know how I know you got it?”

  I ignore the slight ringing in my ears that started when he told me I could be a mom, giving a stupid shake of my head.

  Sal leans closer, his voice soft. “I know it because you exhibit all those things to our teammates at Jameson. There’s no one stronger than you. No bigger advocate. No greater confidant. Never a more loyal person to those she’s sworn to protect. You’re more a mom than most women out there, Hart. And you can take that to the bank.”

  “I’m not good at commitment,” I whisper, throwing out another tactic in hopes Sal will take back everything he just said.

  “Are you talking about the baby or Bodie now?” Sal asks dryly.

  I jerk backward, surprised by his question. Surely, he knows I’m talking about the baby, right?

  But admittedly, the rise of fear that swelled within me at the mention of Bodie’s name is probably an indication I’m thinking about him, too.

  I don’t answer him directly, instead saying, “It’s casual between Bodie and me. That’s all.”

  “Bullshit,” he says with resounding confidence. “What I’ve seen of you and Bodie, and I’ve seen quite a bit at The Wicked Horse, it’s anything but casual.”

  “We’re fucking in a sex club,” I growl.

  “You’re sharing intense, intimate experiences at a sex club with him and exclusively him,” he retorts. “That’s not casual.”

  “He’s too young.” I’m grasping at straws now, and I know the nine-year age difference between us is probably lame.

  “Again, bullshit. He’s a good dude with a wise head on his shoulders. I mean, if you’re all vain and worrying about getting wrinkles before him, fine then. But you and I both know you’re not vain, Hart.”

  Sal crosses his arms over his chest, looking down at me with superiority.

  Asshole.

  The door to the locker room opens, and Cage walks in dressed in a pair of khaki shorts and a white tank top. He’s got on flip-flops, a ball cap with shades perched on top, and his gym bag slung over his shoulder. He gives us both a nod and walks over to the next row of lockers.

  Sal leans across the bench again and murmurs, “Rachel… you don’t have to make any decisions right now. Think about it. Take your time. You’ve got a while before that baby comes.”

  My eyes cut towar
d the lockers because I know if I look at him, he’ll take that as an acknowledgment he’s right. I have no business declaring my intentions this early, when I know damn well I’ve been mired under second thoughts nearly every day.

  I stay stubbornly silent, but Sal isn’t done with me. “If you commit to that baby, that means Bodie can stay, too. Doing a job he loves.”

  My head snaps back to Sal, and I narrow my eyes. “Isn’t it enough I’m carrying this baby for him? Now I have to give up my life, so he can have his career, too?”

  Sal stands from the bench and chuckles. Giving a shake of his head, his eyes glimmer with sage wisdom. “That’s the thing, Hart. Having a kid isn’t about giving up your life. It’s about having a better, more complete life. You’ll be gaining far more than you’ll ever give up.”

  I grind my teeth, knowing if I try to continue arguing with him, I’ll probably end up screaming with bitter frustration. These are decisions I never wanted to be faced with, and there are many people this is going to affect.

  “I’m gonna jump in the shower,” Sal says as he steps over the bench. “Just think about things, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure,” I mutter, just so he’ll leave and I can be done with this.

  I sit there for a few moments, staring blankly at my tennis shoes. Finally, I glance at my watch and see I have to get going to make my doctor’s appointment.

  I quickly get on one shoe, then another. Picking my gym bag up, I head toward the exit. Just as I make it past the end of the lockers, I’m brought up short by Cage, who steps in front of me.

  Startled, I curse at him. “Fuck. You scared me.”

  He gives me a tight smile and leans against the edge of the locker, folding his arms across his chest. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you and Sal were loud enough that I couldn’t help it.”

  My body locks tight, not only because Cage is getting ready to get into my business, but also because his allegiance is to Bodie as his best friend. I can tell by the look on his face that what he’s going to say isn’t going to be nice.