Accidental HusbandA Secret Baby Romance

by Nikki Chase

  “A little pain enhances pleasure,” he used to say.

  My senses reel as he grabs the bottom of my skull, pulling my hair. He starts a fire burning in my body; he makes me hotter than the fireplace ever could. He heats me up from the inside.

  When Eli pulls away, a smile plays on his wet lips.

  His gaze is hungry, predatory. His touch is forceful. But, what really makes my emotions wage war in my chest is this gentleness pouring out of him, flooding my whole being.

  “I’ve missed this,” he whispers, his breath softly falling on my skin.

  And just like that, the magic is broken. Despite the yearning in my soul, I put my hands on his broad, brawny shoulders and push him away.

  “I . . . I’m sorry. I need to go,” I say.

  It would be easy for Eli to stop me. He’s so much bigger, so much stronger than me. But, he lets go, even as he shoots me a thousand questions with his dark eyes.

  “I need to . . .” I get up. The bearskin rug feels soft under my feet. I want to stay, but I need to go. I tell Eli, “I should take a bath before I go home.” I catch a glimpse of my wet clothes lying on the floor by the fireplace and add, “Maybe my clothes will be dry by the time I’m done.”

  With that vague explanation, I dash to the bathroom. My head spins as I shut the door behind me, lean back on it, and let myself slide to the floor.

  Eli didn’t see that there was anything wrong, but I feel like I’m about to shatter into tiny pieces, the way I did when he left me the first time.

  Tears stream down my face. Before Eli can hear me sobbing, I turn on the tap, and the tub starts to fill with hot water.

  If I’m not careful, I won’t survive this. I may be older and wiser, but apparently I still haven’t developed immunity to my biggest weakness. I can’t go through what Eli put me through seven years ago.

  A big, old wound gapes open. And all it took was a few minutes alone with Eli.

  Get a grip, Sophia.

  Sophia

  I wipe my wet hands on a towel and check my phone for the ninety-third time.

  I keep hoping Eddie will call, but he still hasn’t. Damn it, what’s taking him so long?

  Here’s my ideal scenario: Eddie calls while I’m still in the bath; I put on my dry clothes and leave the cabin; I meet Eddie by the car where he fixes whatever’s wrong with that piece of junk; I drive off, never to see Eli again.

  But, I’ve been in the tub for more than an hour, and the phone hasn’t even beeped once. It must’ve been two . . . three hours since I made that first call to Eddie. I’m starting to think he won’t even call back today.

  What will I do if that happens?

  I’ll have to call my parents to pick me up although they may not be able to do that. Mom has never driven out of town in her life, and Dad’s eyesight has been getting worse and worse, especially at night. Since it is the dead of winter, it’ll probably be dark outside by the time they close up the coffee shop.

  Or, at the very worst, I can ask Eli to drive me back into town—he has already offered to give me a lift. I don’t know if it’s a good idea to be stuck in a car alone with him, but it’s only about ten miles; it’s probably okay . . . right?

  Yeah. I’m worrying too much. I’ll be fine. If I can stop myself from kissing Eli again, everything will be fine.

  I can do that. I’m a capable young woman who has achieved most of her career goals by the age of twenty-five. I’ll be okay.

  That said, I haven’t stopped thinking about that kiss since I ran away from Eli like a coward. For the fifty-seventh time, I run a fingers over my lips, remembering the way Eli felt.

  This memory is more recent than all the other Eli-related ones that constantly haunt my mind. I remember every detail—his strong arms around my shoulders, his hot breath on my skin, his lips claiming mine . . .

  Every time I breathe, I inhale his scent into my lungs. It’s musky. Woody. Manly.

  This place—everything about it reminds me of him.

  It doesn’t surprise me, of course. Eli and I have probably done it in every room in this cabin, including in this bathroom while both of us were soaking inside this very bathtub.

  I remember stretching out while Eli spread my legs apart, slid his fingers into me, and rubbed all the delicious, secret spots inside me. He knew exactly where to touch, how hard, and for how long. I wonder if he still does . . .

  I remember my body trembling so much the hot water rippled all around me, washing over me again and again like my orgasms.

  I remember getting up to dry myself off, grabbing a towel and stopping in my tracks as I caught a glimpse of Eli’s face. Even though I had just swallowed his cum, his cock was rock hard as his gaze roamed all over my wet, naked body.

  “Like what you see?” I asked him back then.

  Eli smirked. Desire was etched into his features. He knew I could see it on his face. He got up and pulled me against his hard chest, pressing his cock against my ass.

  He didn’t have to say anything. We just started to make love again, knee-deep in soap water.

  Our frantic movements sloshed the liquid around, but we didn’t care. We were too wrapped up in lust.

  His hands were on my tits, around my neck, and pulling on my hair. I pressed my palms against the wet, tiled wall to keep my balance as he thrust in and out of me.

  My core clenches as memories flood my mind. I yearn for him, but I know I can never have him again. Not even if he wants me. Not if I want to keep my sanity.

  So, just like I’ve always done for the past seven years, I settle for something I can have. Something I can always have.

  My hand travels south until it reaches the juncture of my legs. My fingers find my pussy lips, already slick despite being underwater.

  “You’re wet,” I hear Eli say in my mind, his voice fresh in my memory after seeing him only moments ago.

  My fingers are too skinny to be his, but my imagination fills in the blanks.

  I think about all those times he reached inside my pants, his fingers teasing me through my panties, a smirk spreading on his handsome face because he knew how much I wanted him.

  I close my eyes and lean my head back against the bathtub. In my fantasy, he’s sitting cross-legged on the other side, pulling my legs over him, the crook of my knees brushing against his thighs underwater.

  “Spread your legs for me,” he says in that voice I can never resist.

  My face heats up, and I know it’s not just because of the hot water. He stares at me so intently I get self-conscious.

  “I love the way your tits peek through the surface.” He reaches over to give them a squeeze. “They fit so perfectly in my hands,” he says.

  I bite my bottom lip to stifle a moan as I push a finger inside me . . . and then two. They’re poor substitutes for Eli’s thick, long ones, but they’ll have to do.

  I thrust my hips forward, pressing myself against the bottom of my palm. Eli’s hand would be bigger, rougher, harder. His skin is calloused from years of work—at least, it used to be; I haven’t asked him if he’s still gathering wood from the local forest and turning it into furniture.

  But, who cares, right? This is a fantasy, after all. It doesn’t have to be accurate.

  I frown in concentration as I stave away intrusive thoughts about what’s real and what’s fantasy.

  Back then, Eli knew exactly how to handle my body, how to manipulate my senses until I shattered under his touch. I imagine him pressing insistently on a sweet spot inside me and smiling as my eyes plead with him desperately.

  “You want to come?” imaginary Eli asks, his eyes gleaming with a dark lust.

  “Yes, please,” I answer in my head, doing my part in this make-believe conversation.

  “I’ll make you come. But, you’ll have to do what I say.”

  “Yes . . .”

  My hand works furiously underwater, causing ripples to form on the surface, lapping against my skin. My arousal builds and builds until f
inally, I reach my peak. I let go and feel my body quiver on its own.

  A small moan escapes my lips, followed by heavy sighs. In panic, I remember there’s only one door separating me from Eli, and sounds echo in this bathroom.

  My toes reach for the tap and turn on the water—hopefully, that’s enough to cover any noises I make and keep Eli in the dark about my secret fantasies.

  I’d like to keep them secret. Because as much as I still . . . have feelings for Eli, and even though he obviously would have no problem re-starting our physical relationship, that would be the worst thing I could do in this situation.

  I can’t risk another heartbreak—not from Eli. I wouldn’t survive it.

  And, I can’t let my problem affect him either. He used to tell me what he wanted, what his dream life would look like, and I know now that I won’t be able to give him that.

  My orgasm ruined and forgotten, I wipe my hands on the towel again to check for any news from Eddie.

  I press the button on my phone and sigh in frustration when I see there’s no new notification at all. But then, I notice the little icon at the top of the screen. There’s no signal in here.

  That’s weird. I remember getting pretty good reception when I first entered the bathroom.

  I drain the bathtub and rinse myself off, making sure to wipe the slickness away from between my legs.

  When I turn off the shower, I faintly hear Eli’s voice from outside.

  Is he talking to me?

  I prick my ears up to listen. His voice stays low, and he keeps talking. He’s probably talking to someone else although I can’t hear a second voice.

  Could that be Eddie? Maybe he decided not to call me and just came straight here instead.

  I dry myself off and wrap the towel around my body. Ugh. Why didn’t I remember to bring my clothes in here with me?

  Yes, they were wet, but at the very least, I could’ve grabbed a shirt from Eli’s wardrobe. I know it would fit me like a loose, short dress.

  Instead, I only have this towel . . . and the blanket.

  There’s no way around it now. I’ll have to walk out of here in nothing but a towel.

  Checking my reflection in the fogged-up mirror, I realize my face is flushed, too, from the hot water and from the orgasm I just gave myself.

  Will Eli notice? Even if he does, will he do anything?

  Sophia

  I crack the door open and tiptoe out of the bathroom. If I’m quiet enough, maybe I can grab my clothes from beside the fireplace and get dressed before Eli or Eddie sees me.

  It’s not difficult to go unnoticed, though. Outside, the snowfall has not only grown heavier, but the wind is howling, too.

  Even if I have to get caught by Eli, I’m suddenly glad I’m safe and warm in his cabin.

  “Are you sure there’s no way to . . .” Eli lets his sentence hang in the air.

  There’s no response from whoever he’s talking to, and I can’t see him from where I’m standing.

  As I walk quietly closer to the fireplace, I realize there’s no one else in the cabin but Eli and me. He’s talking on the phone.

  Eli is standing by the window, looking outside while holding the receiver of the old, yellow, corded landline phone to his ear.

  Who is he speaking with? Has he called Eddie himself? Has he realized that I’m not sleeping with him, so he wants me out as soon as possible, too?

  “Yeah, it’s just so sudden.” Eli groans.

  Is he angry because he didn’t expect to find me here without any warning?

  The wooden planks feel hard under my bare feet. I step onto the bearskin rug and touch my clothes. They’re still damp. I’ll have to grab something from Eli’s wardrobe. I hope he still keeps his clothes in the same place.

  “Will you really be okay?” Eli asks, concern in his deep voice.

  Okay. That’s probably not Eddie then. The snowfall looks concerning, but I doubt Eli would care how Eddie would fare driving through it.

  Shame creeps hotly across my face. I’ve been away for seven years. Of course, Eli has better things to do than help me fix my car.

  Unease wraps its tentacles around my heart. Who is Eli talking to? I can’t deny his voice makes me . . . I don’t know. I guess a part of me remembers how he used to talk like that when he was worried about me . . . like he cared. It makes me yearn for something that doesn’t exist anymore.

  Damn it. Am I . . . jealous?

  No, I can’t be.

  We shared a kiss, yes, but it has been seven years. It didn’t mean anything. It was just a meaningless kiss. There’s no way I already feel like I have any kind of claim over him.

  “Okay. I don’t like this, but it sounds like there’s no other way,” Eli sighs.

  Does Eli have a girlfriend, after all? Did he lie to me when he said he didn’t?

  That wouldn’t be a surprise.

  I mean . . . He said he didn’t want us to have a long-distance relationship when he broke up with me, all those years ago. But, I always suspected there was another reason . . . like maybe there was someone else.

  “See you soon,” Eli says.

  Realizing he’s about to end the phone call, I dash into the bedroom so he won’t see me in my towel.

  “I love you,” he says before he hangs up the phone with a click.

  Did he seriously just . . .? That jerk! How dare he kiss me and then tell some other woman he loves her, all in the space of one day?

  I’m glad I didn’t let things get out of control. I’m pretty sure if I didn’t run away into the bathroom, Eli would’ve had no problem escalating things until we ended up in bed.

  I open the wardrobe and grab a shirt at the top of a random pile.

  It’s a floral shirt. A woman’s shirt. The tag on it has faded to the point where it’s impossible for me to tell what used to be printed on it.

  The shirt is too small for Eli’s mom. And, I know his sister has been living in the city for the past few years. I mean, it could be hers, but the last time I saw her she told me she hated Ashbourne and would never come back, not even for a short visit.

  So, there is a woman. And, I can see Eli is still using the same, old moves. He probably brings his girlfriend back here all the time. They may have done it in every room, too, just like we did. It’s possible they did it in the bathtub where I just soaked.

  Despite the fresh warmth from the hot water on my skin and the scent of soap on my body, I suddenly feel dirty.

  Is that just what he does? Wait until a girl falls for him and then move on to the next one?

  I rummage through the wardrobe until I find a pair of sweatpants that fits me—a pair of women’s sweatpants.

  Maybe, if I wear clothes that belong to her, Eli will realize I know what he’s up to.

  I walk out of the bedroom with a towel draped over my shoulders, keeping my wet hair from dampening my shirt.

  “Hey, can I use your phone?” I ask Eli, who’s still standing by the window, looking outside.

  “Sure. I was starting to get worried. I thought you’d passed out in the bathroom.” He turns around to face me. As soon as he sees me, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Where did you find those clothes?”

  “In the bedroom. In the wardrobe.”

  “I didn’t even realize you’d finished your bath,” Eli says. Strange. He doesn’t say anything about the clothes I’m wearing.

  I’ll bet he doesn’t realize I listened to his call with his girlfriend, either.

  He looks a little surprised. He probably didn’t expect me to catch him doing something shady.

  Luckily for me, I’ve always had a light step. And, I’m so glad I’m getting out of here soon.

  I give Eli a polite smile as I step closer toward the small table on which the phone rests. “My cell phone doesn’t work. There’s no reception.”

  “There’s none on mine either,” he says.

  “I thought it was just in the bathroom. But, I tried the bedroom and now,
here. Nothing.”

  “It’s probably the storm,” he says.

  “What storm?”

  “That storm.” Eli points out the window.

  I walk past the phone table to take my place beside him so I can look outside.

  In just a short time, snow has piled up on the ground. I could still see the grey asphalt when I first got to the cabin, but now it’s completely buried. The wind is still howling, sending fat blobs of white snow swirling down.

  “What . . . When did this . . .?” My jaw drops.

  “It’s a sudden snow storm,” Eli says. As if that explains anything.

  “But, it was . . .”

  “Completely clear this morning. Yeah. I know,” Eli completes my sentence.

  “I need to call Eddie.”

  “I doubt he can do anything,” Eli says.

  “So, what are you saying?” I turn toward him, my voice growing louder. “You’re saying I’m stuck here with you?”

  “Whoa,” Eli says, holding his hands up defensively. “It’s not me saying that. You can try calling and see what he says. All I’m saying is, I’m told everyone in Ashbourne is staying indoors.”

  “Everyone? How do you even know it’s everyone?” I ask, getting more frantic.

  “That’s what I heard,” Eli says, shrugging. “Granted, I didn’t personally call every single person in town to check if it’s true.”

  “I need to call Eddie.” My heart hammers so hard my hands start to shake as I grab the phone receiver. “I can’t be stuck here.”

  “Would it really be so bad, being stuck here with me?” Eli asks, a playful smile on his lips even as something dark dulls his eyes.

  Ignoring Eli, I dial Eddie’s number, checking my cell phone to make sure I have the correct digits. I press the phone so hard against my ear it hurts a little.

  I can’t be stuck here. That’s the worst thing that can happen, I think to myself. It didn’t take long for me to succumb to Eli’s charms. What if I need to stay overnight here? Or worse, longer?

  I almost squeal out with excitement when a voice answers the phone—a real, male voice and not the robotic, recorded voice I heard when I called earlier. “Hello?”