Protecting His Baby

by Nikki Chase

  Like nothing much has happened between the time we started breakfast and the time I emerged from the bathroom.

  I take my seat at the table and giggle. The fact that the food is now cold is the only indication that we had sex at all.

  “What? I’m hungry,” Logan says, shrugging.

  I smile but say nothing.

  “Sex is hard work, okay?” Logan says again.

  I burst out laughing. Now I know for sure that we did get it on.

  “Yeah. Okay. You can continue.” I smile. “I’m glad you like the food.”

  “Of course, I do. Who doesn’t like brunch?”

  For some reason, seeing a big, brawny guy like Logan admit to liking brunch makes me giggle again.

  “What?” he asks.

  “Didn’t peg you as the type of guy who’s into brunch.”

  “Well . . .” Logan looks me up and down.

  “What?”

  “I didn’t peg you as the type of girl who’d be into being dominated.”

  My face heats up. I’m probably blushing, and Logan can probably tell, so I pick up my fork and stab a piece of sausage.

  “Honestly, it’s a little too late for modesty.” Logan chuckles. “It’s nothing to get embarrassed about though.”

  I stay quiet and take a bite of the sausage as the things I did mere minutes ago replay in my head.

  “Really, Harper. Don’t mind me. That was hot.” Logan winks. “And I wouldn’t want you to be too embarrassed to do it again the next time.”

  A smile slowly spreads across my face. “That’s presumptuous of you. Who said there’d be a next time?”

  “Your loss.” Logan shrugs. “I saw you enjoying yourself. You were wet before I even touched you. You begged me to come. And, when you did . . .”

  “What?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

  Logan focuses his eyes back on me, acting like he’s surprised to see me. “Oh, you’re still here? Sorry, I didn’t realize. I was lost in my head, thinking about this girl I slept with one time.”

  “Ha. Funny.”

  “She said it was just a one-off. But I think she was in denial. She’ll obviously come crawling back for seconds,” he says with a serious expression.

  The corner of my lips pull up into a half-smile.

  Logan’s right, of course. I’m putty in his hands. All he has to do is say the word, and I’d melt into a puddle of submissive goo.

  I’ll forget about emotions and consequences later. Future Me can worry about those.

  Right now, all I know is I’m coming back for seconds. And, I’ll crawl if Logan tells me to.

  Logan

  “Hey,” Harper says as she pushes the door open and pops her head into my home office.

  She doesn’t even knock. Normally, I’d get angry and impatient with the intruder. Some of the nurses at the hospital where I used to work learned about this the hard way.

  But, to my own surprise, I feel no bile in my chest. My muscles haven’t tensed up.

  For some reason I don’t understand myself, Harper seems to be the exception.

  “I brought you something.” She shows me a piping-hot cup of coffee along with a wide grin on her beautiful face.

  That face. I can’t get mad at that face.

  “I noticed this morning that you take your coffee black,” Harper says.

  As the saucer makes contact with the surface of my desk, the cup and the teaspoon clink against it.

  “But let me know if you want some sugar or creamer.” She pauses as her big, green eyes watch me for a reaction. “Oh, but you’ll have to tell me where they are. It was so hard, making that coffee. I had to open all the cabinets.”

  “Black is fine. It’s great.” I give her a smile. “Thank you.”

  Despite the trouble brewing outside, I have to put on a brave face for her.

  Even though it was her own fault she followed me here, I feel responsible for her. She wouldn’t be involved in this dangerous mess if it weren’t for me.

  “Working late, huh?” Harper leans her cute ass against the arm of the chair across my desk. “What are you working on?

  The soft flesh gives way to the solid wood, and before I can stop myself, my brain conjures up images of the way her ass cheeks shake when I spanked her earlier today.

  What the fuck is this girl doing to me? I don’t normally sexualize such mundane things.

  But, it’s quickly becoming clear to me that what I feel toward Harper isn’t exactly normal.

  I wonder if there’s a truth to what people say about the connection between twin siblings. Maybe there’s a trace of my dead, supposed-twin brother in me that somehow makes me feel closer to Harper than I should.

  “Is it a secret?” Harper shoots me the sweetest smile.

  Fuck, those full lips . . . I’m not a religious man, but there’s no way they weren’t shaped by something divine. The thought makes me want to defile those lips, maybe jam my cock between them.

  I clear my throat. “You can say that.”

  “Doctor-patient confidentiality?”

  “Something like that.” I lift the cup by the handle and bring it close to my mouth. It’s piping hot. I can see the steam rising up the black liquid.

  Harper studies my face with her sharp gaze. “Is it fun, being a man of mystery?”

  I cough, not expecting her question. I almost scald my tongue.

  “Sorry,” Harper says, grinning without a trace of guilt on her face. She tucks her red hair behind her ear. “You don’t say much, do you?”

  “It’s for your own safety.”

  “I know you don’t really know me that well. But just for future reference, you saying something like that only makes me more curious.”

  The corners of my lips pull up into a smile. I raise an eyebrow. “You like danger?”

  Harper seems to ponder the question, her green eyes looking up at the ceiling as she presses her index finger against those juicy lips. “You know, I didn’t think I did before tonight. But, maybe I do.”

  “You only think you do. You like it because you haven’t really suffered any consequences.” I take a small sip of the coffee. It’s pretty good. Strong.

  “I’m being held hostage by a stranger and forced to live in that stranger’s house. I’m not even allowed to go out into the yard. That’s not a consequence?” she asks, resting her hands on her hips.

  “Please. You’ve got everything you need right here and you can do anything you want. You even still have your phone.”

  “There’s no signal and you know it,” she says. “Do you have internet on that computer? I haven’t been able to find any Wi-Fi network.”

  “That’s because there’s no Wi-Fi.”

  “See? I’m pretty sure that counts as torture these days,” she says, sliding down the arm of the chair and planting her ass on the cushioned seat.

  I laugh. Glad I’ve learned to take my sips when she’s done talking. “Hey, it’s not like I kidnapped you. I’m sure there was Wi-Fi in that hotel where I left you. There was even free breakfast.”

  “They don’t have what I want for breakfast. I eat danger for breakfast,” she says, bursting into laughter at her own cheesy joke.

  It’s a bad joke, but I chuckle anyway. She’s adorable. I can see why a guy would risk death just to give her a birthday surprise. Maybe my supposed twin brother and I have the same taste.

  “Your boyfriend, Mark.” I watch as Harper’s face grows somber and almost regret my words. But it’s too late to stop now. “Did he drink his coffee black, too?”

  Harper shakes her head. “No. Two sugars.”

  I nod as I take another sip of my black coffee.

  She lets out a deep, sorrowful sigh as she shakes her head. “You know one of the worst things about losing someone you care about? You have all these little details stored in your head, bits of information that used to matter a great deal because they were things you could use to make them smile, cheer them up on a good d
ay . . .”

  Harper stares at the baseboard but her gaze is empty.

  The way she lets her sentence hang in the air, it seems like she’s done talking. But then, she sniffles and adds, “Then, suddenly, these things . . . They’re irrelevant. Less important than the lyrics to that teenybopper song you used to sing when you were eleven.”

  I watch, not saying a word, as Harper brings her emotions under control. She takes a few deep breaths, blinks her doe eyes, and turns to me with a smile. “But, to answer your questions . . . No, he didn’t take his coffee black. Not everything about you is identical to him.”

  The way she talks . . . I’ve never been this jealous of a dead man before. Mark may be dead, but Harper continues to love him.

  “So, now that I’ve told you something personal—” Harper gives me a brave smile “—are you ready to tell me about whatever you’re working on? Does it have anything to do with the woman from yesterday?”

  I take a deep breath. “The less you know, the better. Trust me, you don’t want to get any deeper in this shit.”

  “What did you do to her?” Harper asks. “Did you break her heart? You know what they say about fury and a woman scorned.”

  “Why are you so interested? Are you jealous?” I ask her back. “Are you . . .” I bite my tongue.

  What Harper said about Mark was excruciatingly sweet. I barely know this girl, and I knew from the start I was only a replacement for her dead boyfriend. But I can’t help the jealousy stabbing my chest or the anger rising up my spine.

  Still, I can’t seriously ask her if it bothers her to think about someone who looks identical to her dead boyfriend fucking another woman.

  “Am I what?” Harper asks, leaning forward in her chair.

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care why you asked.”

  “It looked like you cared a great deal,” she challenges.

  I get up, and Harper immediately shrinks. She keeps her gaze down while she glances at me from underneath her lashes. Her breathing grows heavy.

  Is she scared of me? Or, is she aroused?

  Harper

  My heart pounds in my chest as Logan gets up to his full height, towering over me. He walks around his chunky, wooden desk and stops right in front of my chair.

  “Do you want me to care?” he asks, smirking as he grabs the arms of my chair and lowers himself down until his face is just inches away from me.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be working?” My voice sounds confident enough, steady enough.

  But I know he can tell from the way I’m leaning back in my chair, as far away from him as I can, that he’s managed to intimidate me.

  At the same time, wetness leaks out of me and pools in my panties.

  “Let me worry about my work.” He speaks slowly, enunciating every syllable, commanding my whole attention. I can feel his breath on my skin as he continues, “I asked you a question. Do you want me to care why you asked so many questions? Do you want me to care about whether you’re jealous?”

  “You haven’t answered any of my questions,” I say, ignoring the rapid beating of my heart.

  Logan chuckles. But there’s something sinister about it that only makes him seem more threatening. “Why do you care about my life? Why do you care what I do with some woman you’ve never seen? Wasn’t this just supposed to be about biology, about sex?”

  I swallow, but my nervousness remains. It’s like my heart has jumped up to my throat. Unable to think and finding it hard to speak, I simply repeat, “You haven’t answered any of my questions.”

  “You know what?” Logan stands back up, but his intense stare continues to bore into my soul. He says, “I’m tired of talking anyway. I miss that side of you that listens to me and does everything I tell you to.”

  Without any warning, Logan grabs my arm and pulls me up to my feet.

  I open my mouth. “What do you think you’re do—”

  Logan forcefully crushes his lips against mine as he yanks me to his warm chest.

  I stand there, too overwhelmed by the intense exchange to kiss him back but unable to step back from the kiss. Lust and reason battle in my chest.

  As Logan bites my bottom lip, I shatter. Lust wins, hands down.

  I part my lips for him and let his tongue sweep inside me. I kiss him back with no hesitation as he takes full possession of my mouth. Our tongues twist together, even as conflicting emotions clash in my rib cage.

  I’m too far gone to think, to pay attention to my feelings. I spin out of control under Logan’s ravishing assault.

  He traps my face in his hands and whispers against my mouth, “Like putty in my hands.”

  I want to protest—out of pride, out of vanity—but what’s the point? We both know he’s right.

  “Put your palms on the desk,” he orders, breath panting.

  The defiance within me has completely evaporated. There’s something about his voice that makes me want to obey.

  Logan stands behind me and presses my back down until my upper body is stretched across the desk, my fingers grabbing onto the edge.

  As Logan wraps his arms around my waist, I stand there, gasping for breath.

  In front of me is the uncovered window. In the darkness of the night, I can see my own reflection on it, ghostly and insubstantial.

  No wonder Logan was so confident. I look like a woman in heat. Even though the colors in the reflection are faint, I can make out the flush in my cheeks. My mouth hangs open as I struggle just to even breathe.

  “Don’t move,” Logan says in his deep, smooth baritone.

  My knees grow weak as Logan pulls my jeans and panties down my legs. He lets them pool around my ankles, trapping my feet with the fabric of my own clothes.

  “Good girl.” He kisses the back of my knee, making me gasp. I had no idea that part of me is so sensitive.

  Logan chuckles, his breath caressing my skin as he trails kisses up my bare thigh.

  I stay as still as I can, although there’s no stopping the light shivers and the goosebumps. I bite down on my bottom lip and grab onto the edge of the desk harder.

  When Logan reaches the top of my thigh, he slows down his pace, softly dragging his lips over my skin, his facial hair tickling me.

  Grabbing my legs, Logan spreads them apart. “You’re wet,” he says. “You’re almost dripping. Dirty girl. Looks like you need some help getting clean.”

  He hovers over my slit, then I feel his tongue licking over my wet folds. He shoves his tongue into my opening, making me crave something bigger, something thicker, something that will fill me up and finish me.

  But I know it’s not time yet. And I know Logan will decide when it’s time.

  The thought of being completely under his control sends my arousal through the roof.

  “You taste good. Sweet. Like honey,” he groans, his hands gripping my thighs harder. “I can’t get enough of this.”

  I moan as Logan flattens his tongue and licks up and down my slit. My clit throbs in pleasure, yearning for special attention. Every time Logan brushes over it, my muscles immediately spasm.

  When he finally circles my clit with his tongue, I explode right away, losing control of my whole body.

  Logan keeps up his pace, not stopping even when I feel myself coming down from the high. I can’t believe it, but another orgasm rips through my body.

  “That’s enough,” I sigh.

  “It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Logan says, growling with lust as he mercilessly eats me alive.

  My body becomes a shuddering heap of orgasms, and I stop counting. What is he doing to me? I’m just coasting from peak to peak without ever coming down.

  By the time Logan finally takes his mouth off me, my legs have completely lost all strength and I’m simply lying face-down on the desk.

  My heart beats fast and my breathing is frantic. My whole body is covered with a thin sheen of sweat even though I’ve barely moved.

  “Open your eyes,” Logan says
. He’s already standing in front of me, blocking my view of the open window. “Look at me.”

  I lift my gaze up, my eyes looking in his direction but not quite focusing on his face. What has he done to me? I feel like I’ve lost control of my whole body.

  “Very good,” Logan says. Somehow, those two little words are enough to inject me with vitality and get me ready for whatever he wants me to do next. He continues, “Now, be a real good girl and open your mouth.”

  The sound of Logan unzipping his jeans fills my ears, telling me what’s coming. I may have had a super-long dry spell, but I know what Logan wants. And my mouth is already salivating in anticipation.

  I part my lips like he wants me to.

  Logan pulls his cock out, and I stare in amazement at the thick, hard rod in front of me. I can’t believe I had that monster inside me yesterday. Veins run along the side of it, throbbing like it can’t wait to be inside me.

  I lick my lips and reach out my hand, but Logan grabs my wrists.

  “Stay still,” he says.

  He pulls me up across the desk until my feet are no longer touching the floor. My head is at the edge and my thighs hang off the other side of the desk.

  Logan holds his cock in his hand and strokes it up and down as his gaze roams all over me. He reaches behind me and grabs my ass cheek, then squeezes it, hard. His pupils have dilated, darkening his gray eyes.

  He likes what he sees, I realize. Watching me helpless and dripping onto his desk with my pants off turns him on.

  I may be the one following his orders, but Logan is just as helpless under the control of this magnetic vortex swirling between us, pulling us closer and closer, deeper and deeper into insanity.

  Logan presses the spongy head of his cock against my lips and lets out the sexiest sigh ever. He rubs his shaft back and forth across my lips, groaning.

  I swear the sounds he makes sends me wild with desire. I don’t know if I’m still dripping because of my orgasms from before or if it’s because of his groans.

  Again, I reach out my hand to grab him and direct him into my mouth, but Logan stops me again.