Mountain Man's Baby Surprise (A Mountain Man's Baby Romance)

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Mountain Man's Baby Surprise (A Mountain Man's Baby Romance) Page 42

by Lia Lee


  Carly had never thought that it would be like this, her body bucking up against his, cries being forced past her lips. She didn’t realize that she had latched her legs around his thigh until they started to shake, and then she realized that the pleasure that he was creating in her was swelling to a point that she could barely stand.

  “Oh... oh my gosh...”

  “Go on, little darling,” Donovan crooned in her ear. “This is for you, this is all for you.” The pleasure that struck her body was merciless. It felt as if every muscle tensed up before releasing in a wave of need and want, and she cried out his name until he covered her mouth with his own. She was trembling and shivering. She could feel the wetness between her legs, the slick of sweat between them, and she couldn’t think because the pleasure was still working through her, threading through her very being.

  When Donovan leaned down to kiss her again, she could only respond weakly, and he chuckled a little.

  “Should we leave it at this, darling? You look as if I’ve worn you out.”

  “No, no, please,” she murmured, aware that her words were strange and disjointed. “No, I don’t want to stop. I want you to...” Words failed her, but Donovan understood. She needed more of him. She wanted him with her, she wanted him to experience the same pleasure that she had. She wanted to see his face when he fell apart, and she wanted to be responsible for that pleasure.

  “Beautiful,” Donovan purred, and then he was shifting over her. Carly quieted the panic that suddenly started babbling in her mind, and when he stroked the length of his cock along her slit, she gasped. There was more pleasure in that simple movement than she had imagined that there would be, and she clung to him.

  “God, you are everything a man might want,” Donovan murmured, and he guided his cock to the core of her.Carly threw her arm over her eyes when she felt the tip of Donovan’s cock pressed against her entrance. He was even bigger than he looked when he stripped. It was smooth, so smooth that when he entered slowly and so sweetly that there was only a slight sting.

  “Good?” he asked, and she could tell that he was holding himself in check. Something about that made her heart melt, and she leaned up to kiss him.

  “Yes, yes,” she murmured, her voice husky.

  “You feel so good, pet, so very good.”

  He moved in her with slow short strokes, never advancing more than a fraction of an inch before pulling back. He kissed her mouth, her face, her neck as he progressed, and despite her own trepidations, Carly was lost to the sensations that were rampaging through her body. It was foreign, so utterly foreign, the feeling of him inside it, but she could see at the heart of a pleasure that might obliterate everything she had ever known.

  She could feel her own body rising again in arousal, ready to meet his, and without thinking of it, she raised her legs, hooking them around his.

  Something about that simple motion seemed to snap whatever control Donovan still had. He gasped, his body tensed, and just when Carly was starting to wonder if she had done something wrong, he reared back and then thrust his full length into her.

  “Oh!”

  Her gasp was mingled pain and surprise, but her arousal and his earlier gentler motions had eased his entry some what. Before she could tense and try to push him away, however, his mouth came down over hers, and he started to thrust into her, his body moving with strength and a predator’s speed.

  Soon, all pain was forgotten, and all she could remember was a rising pleasure. The sensations he pulled from her earlier with just the weight of his body and the feeling of his mouth on her neck came back with a vengeance. It was all centered low in her belly, and the tension there spread until it made her entire frame shake. She felt like a piece of lace cord that had been pulled to the snapping point, trembling and shaking with potential.

  “Beautiful, beautiful Carly,” he whispered. “God, perfect girl.” His words made her blush and whimper. She knew she was speaking as well, but it was all a babble of praise and need. She knew she was trying to tell him how good it all felt, she knew she was trying to say his name over and over again, but beyond that there was nothing, just the haze of pleasure that was intensifying all around her.

  His thrusts were deep and powerful, and still she couldn’t get enough. She dug her heels into the bed, raising herself up to meet him, wanting everything he could give her.

  Her climax broke over her like lightning, spilling heat throughout her body and making her cry out in her fulfillment. Every part of her shook and she shouted Donovan’s name, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed out her release.

  Her own trembling was just coming to an end when Donovan’s motions suddenly became less controlled and smooth. He was holding her in place, thrusting into her with a force that stopped just short of savage, and in a few moments he stiffened as well, entire frame frozen as he poured his release into her. She could feel him filling her, and in her mind, all that mattered in that moment was need for this man, a powerful urge to be with him, to feel him like this forever.

  Slowly, so slowly, he relaxed over her, and he dropped his head to scatter kisses over her face, soft and sweet. It took him another moment to pull himself from her, and another moment to roll to his side, cradling her against him.

  As their breathing slowed, Carly could hear the rain in the silence that followed. The thunder and lightning had moved on, leaving only the steady patter of raindrops against the barn’s snug roof.

  She almost fell asleep listening to the rain, but then Donovan spoke.

  “Why didn’t you tell me, sweetheart?”

  “Tell you what?” she tried, but he would not be put off.

  “That you’d never done this before. I’ll be honest, I never expected you to be a virgin.”

  “Because I’m so very old for that?” she asked, somewhat tartly, but his arm tightened comfortingly around her.

  “Because you are so very lovely and so very desirable,” he said. “But I ask again. Why did you not tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want it to be a big deal. Would it have made a difference?”

  Donovan thought for a moment before shrugging and kissing her. “I suppose not. I wanted you, and if you had given me a yes, nothing would have stopped me. I hope I might have taken more time with you, been a bit gentler perhaps, but no; it would not have changed much.”

  “What has this changed?” she asked, some of the tension from their real lives leaking in. The time in the barn felt enchanted, but she knew that there were other concerns lapping at them, real matters that needed to be dealt with. “You still want the cottage, you still don’t believe in romance.”

  “What a mercenary little mind you have,” he teased her. “Let’s say this. The cottage stays in limbo for now, but if you want to sell it, you tell me immediately. Otherwise, well, perhaps it is time I give romance another chance?” If he had said it any other way, she might have laughed and put him off. However, there was something shockingly vulnerable about the way he spoke, just a hint of hope, and she snuggled closer to him.

  “All right,” she murmured. “All right.”

  Chapter Eight

  Donovan didn’t know what he was doing, and for the first time in his life, that felt exhilarating rather than frustrating. He felt as if he were on a road trip without a map, or perhaps falling out of a plane without a parachute.

  Still, he wasn’t sure that he could do otherwise. When he thought about Carly, it felt as if something were opening in his chest. He once cynically thought that he knew everything there was to know about how he could feel about woman, but she was teaching him otherwise every day.

  It had been almost seven weeks since that night in the barn, and since then they had spent almost every day together. She came down from her cottage in the woods, and whenever he laid eyes on her, he couldn’t help but smile. Every small touch, every whispered word made his heart beat faster, and there was a part of him that barely knew what to do.

  The only problem
of course, was that damn cottage. It hung behind them like a ghost, and Carly would still brook no thought of selling it. When he mentioned it, however gently, a stubborn look would turn her eyes bright and sharp and she would shake her head.

  “We’re not talking about that,” she said, and with that Donovan had to be content.

  The deal was hanging on, somehow, but Donovan knew that at some point he would have close on it or give it up. He was not a man who was used to giving up, but he had to admit to himself that perhaps having Carly would make it worth it.The Goat and Compass was quiet that day, and he was eager to see Carly. He promised her a drive south and if all went well, they would find their way to a bed and breakfast that he found a few years prior, one with a flock of sheep in the back and plenty of textiles to peruse. It was the sort of outing that would have made him sneer back in London, but here, there was a strange pleasure in seeing Carly delight at something particularly soft and cute.His phone rang, and he glanced at it. It wasn’t Carly, as he hoped, but it also wasn’t a call that he could really afford to miss.

  “Gordo, good to hear from you.”

  “If you say so,” said his London business manager. “You’ve been dodging my calls ever since you got up there. Are you planning on coming back down to earth any time soon?”

  “To be honest, I’ve seen way more earth here than I have when I was in London.” Donovan joked, and he could almost hear Gordo roll his eyes.

  “You know what I mean. Look, I don’t need to tell you the consortium’s getting restless. You pitched one hell of a deal to them last March, and they want it bad. Now you’re saying you can’t deliver and—”

  Donovan sat up a little straighter, frowning. “Who says I can’t deliver? If I don’t do it here, if it turns out that this place isn’t feasible, we’ll move. There are places throughout the country that might work, plenty of places.”

  “They haven’t seen that yet,” Gordo said succinctly. “What they’ve seen are development shots from Loch Naine, and that’s what they want.” Donovan drove his fingers through his hair, all but growling in frustration. “Fend ‘em off. It’s what I pay you for. Loch Naine is not out of the question yet, but if it is, well, I’ll deal with that.”

  Gordo sighed, and Donovan knew that he had chosen his assistant well. Gordo would make sure that the deal stayed where it needed to be, at least until he could get a yes, or the no that he believed he would get out of Carly. She was unsure, and it could drive a patient man to tears, but he cared for her well enough that it wasn’t a true trial yet.

  Care? It was more than that, but it was not something that Donovan would let himself think about, not just yet.

  “Is that all? I am meeting someone here in just a—”

  “Ah, funny you should bring that up. As a matter of fact, yes. Do you remember a Ms. Rose Roland?”

  Donovan frowned. “I’m not sure I do, but I’m sure that you’ll remind me.”

  “Of course, sir,” said Gordo drily. “She was a woman that you were seeing about a year ago, when the firm was doing that work in Morocco?”

  “No, I don’t... Wait, I do. She was that movie star, wasn’t she?”

  ‘Movie star’ was pushing it. Rose Roland had had a few small roles in local television and a string of rich patrons who kept her living in movie-star glamor. She shone like a diamond when he met her on the boardwalk, with long gleaming red hair and a smile as sharp as razors. It had been a more than enjoyable three weeks in Morocco with the exciting Rose as his companion, but by the time the job was done and he was ready to fly back to London, he was done with her as well. He thought they left it on good terms, and most of the women he spent time with knew better than to ask for more from him. It made her mention now unusual.

  “She was, sir. There is a rumor going around the channels I frequent that Ms. Roland has a child that she is claiming as yours. No real declaration yet from her, but there is a chance that she is marshaling evidence and getting things together for a paternity suit.”

  Donovan’s laugh was harsh. “A baby? Don’t make me laugh. That’s the oldest trick in the book, isn’t it?”

  “I’m sure I wouldn’t know, sir,” Gordo said, but Donovan was already shaking his head.

  “No. We had a good time together, we had some fun, but if she tries to come after me, especially with some bogus baby story, she’s got to go. Make sure she knows that if she comes after me like this, I’ll go after her, too. She won’t come off the better in this, I promise her.”

  “I see.” Gordo paused for a moment, and then spoke again. “And if the baby is yours?”

  “It isn’t,” Donovan said with certainty. “Not with her. That baby isn’t mine. Rose was fun, but she was never the most loyal. Didn’t expect her to be. Tell her that, too, if you think it’ll make her see reason.”

  “Yes, sir. I see.”

  They discussed a few matters further, but Donovan was eager to hang up. There was definitely someone that he wanted to be speaking to, and it was not his London business manager.

  However, the minutes ticked by, and Carly never showed up. He checked his phone for messages, but there was nothing, and he grew increasingly concerned. Carly wasn’t always the most punctual person on the face of the planet, but when they agreed to meet, she would at least tell him when she was going to be late. He sent her a few texts, but those received no answer either. Just when he was starting to panic, his phone rang. He saw with relief that it was Carly.

  “There you are,” he said. “Are you all right? Is everything—”

  “We need to end this.”

  For a moment, he was so stunned by her words that he didn’t hear how muffled they were, how thick. She sounded as if she had a cold, or as if she had been crying.

  “Carly, why are you saying this, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t want to see you again,” she said, and though she stuttered at first, her voice sharpened to something hard and immoveable at the end. “I don’t want to see you, or talk to you. At all.”

  “Carly, you can’t be serious,” Donovan said, stunned. He felt as if she reached into his chest with her delicate hand and twisted.

  “I am.” It didn’t help him at all to hear the hollowness of her voice. Her words were like lead, slow and ponderous.

  “Pet...”

  “No! Don’t call me that anymore, just... just get out of my life. I don’t want you. I don’t want you.”

  Donovan might have said more, but she hung up with a sharp click. After that, he simply sat in the booth.

  This is what bleeding out feels like, he thought distantly.

  “Another drink?” asked the waitress, and Donovan looked up at her blankly. For a moment, he was tempted. Nothing sounded good right now, but the idea of getting roaring, blazing drunk held some appeal at least. Then he shook his head, rose from the table and left the restaurant.

  ***

  Donovan walked out into the street, locating his car without looking to the left or the right. If he had turned his head slightly, he would have noticed Carly leaning against a brick wall, just out of sight around the corner of the pub. Despite the warm late summer breeze, she was trembling, her hands rubbing up and down her arms, trying to hold herself together.

  Carly focused on telling herself to breathe. It was difficult. She was used to standing up for herself to strangers, to people who might have wanted to harm her, but not to people she cared about. She had only begun to realize how very much she cared about Donovan, and this was a new kind of pain.

  She had come into the pub to find him on the phone, her mind filled with her news. But then she overheard him speaking.

  God, he sounded like someone else, she thought, wiping at her damp eyes. It was so brutal and so cruel.

  She had no idea who the woman he was talking about was, but her heart went out to her. Was there another woman just like her somewhere, who believed Donovan when he said she was different? Was that woman carrying a child—the half-brother or sister
to the child in Carly’s belly?

  Reflexively, Carly closed her hands over her stomach, wondering if her child could feel her distress and her fear.

  They had only made love once without a condom, but apparently, once was enough. She had suspected not long after they made love in the barn, but it was so easy to ignore it. After all, she had never been the most regular when it came to her menstrual cycle, and there were a dozen and one things that could be affecting her. However, another month had gone by, and she knew she needed to be sure.

  The test was still sitting next to the sink in her cottage. It told her everything she had needed to know about truth and consequences, and the only thing that had prevented her from telling Donovan over the phone was the need to do it in person.

  She had been such a fool. She thought that he might be shocked, even stunned, but never in a million years had she thought that he might say to her, as he had said to that other woman, that it wasn’t his child. That he didn’t care.

  In the restaurant, Carly had felt as if she was frozen in place, unable to speak or to cry. Then her senses returned, and instead of fighting she fled. There was no other choice. Otherwise, she would have had to face Donovan, and God alone knew what that might have become. She didn’t know if she could control herself if he had told her half of what he was talking about on the phone.

  “I am alone,” she murmured. The words sounded lonely and despondent, but then for the first time, she realized that that wasn’t true. Her fingers tightened slightly over her belly and then she relaxed.

  Carly had only known panic and confusion when she got the results of her pregnancy test, but now, she was able to feel the first burgeoning presence of joy.

  She wasn’t alone after all. Perhaps that would make all the difference.

  Chapter Nine

  Four months later

  Donovan expected to feel nothing at all when he drove into the Loch Naine region again. He thought he might feel a touch rueful, a little irritated that things had not worked out with the investors, perhaps even a little wistful for the very short time he had spent here with Carly.

 

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