by M. E. James
"You're so cocky." She chucked a pillow at him. "I haven't said yes to anything yet."
The guy crawled toward her on the bed. He lay down on top of her, pressing her body into the mattress. His hands trapped her arms above her head.
"You, my dear, are already falling in love with me." He kissed the tip of her nose.
Her eyes widened. "Says who?"
"Says me." The man grinned.
She scowled at him, but then sobered. "What is it about you that I find so damn irresistible?"
"Maybe it's my amazing good looks." He batted his eyes at her.
She studied him. "No, that's not it."
Something about her response pleased him. The man's grin widened. "Then it has to be my perfect personality."
"Perfect my butt," she muttered.
"Ouch." He toppled to one side, clutching his heart as if she'd mortally wounded him. Still his act was unconvincing, especially since he was smirking the entire time.
"You know…" She hesitated and propped herself up on her elbow.
The man cocked his head. "What?"
"I wouldn't have let just anyone do what you did last night," she said.
The humor disappeared from Sebastian's face, but he didn't break eye contact. At least the man knew how to be serious when the occasion called for it. "I know. Thank you. It was quite an experience."
"I trust you," she said quietly, blushing as she turned her face away from him.
Sebastian didn't speak. When she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, she noted that his face had gone pale. She began to wonder if she'd said something that made him unhappy.
"Is something wrong?" She bit her bottom lip.
"No." He shook his head. "Just digesting what you said."
"I can trust you, right?" She finally met his gaze again. "I don't want to put my faith in you, only to have you running scared months from now when I really need you."
His eyes darkened. "You can trust me."
After she breathed a sigh of relief, Sebastian kissed her. His tongue slipped into her mouth, and despite the fact that most people had morning breath, Sebastian tasted sweet. His hands tightened in her hair, and he drew her head back so he could burrow his tongue deeper inside of her mouth. His lips roved over hers, and she whimpered and dug her fingers into his ass cheeks. Still the man continued on, driving the full force of his manhood straight against her cunt's lips. She spread her legs, longing for him to enter her yet again.
Writhing, she moaned his name, "Sebastian…"
Her alarm clock turned on. The shrill beeping cut through the moment, making Emmy curse and Sebastian pull his tongue out of her mouth.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered, running his hands over her thighs. "Can we finish? I promise I'll be fast."
"You couldn't be fast if your life depended on it." The man could thrust for hours before he finally spilled his seed.
"I'm going to take that as a compliment." His grin was wicked.
She tried to sit up, but his hand remained on her breast. The man toyed with her nipple.
"Hey, stop that." She scowled at him.
"Stop what?" he asked playfully.
She glared down at his hand. "Fondling my breast."
"Am I doing that?"
"Yes!" she squealed.
"Emmy, Emmy, Emmy." He laid kisses along her neck. "You're your own boss, aren't you?"
"Well, yes." Her eyes widened as he kissed his way up to her ear.
He nibbled her earlobe. "And you can make your own schedule, right?"
"Well, yeah." She was fighting a losing battle and she knew it.
"Then what's so wrong with being five or ten minutes late?" The man ran his hand down her front and slipped his fingers between her legs, fondling her clit.
"Well, ugh, I…" Suddenly, she found it hard to think. "Salt and sugar and…Eek!"
The eek was caused by him inserting his finger straight into her hole.
"Well?" He nibbled on her earlobe.
"I don't want to be late," she said. "If you're fast…"
"Sweetheart, fast is my middle name," he said.
****
Emmy was late. And not just a little late. Really late. Wincing, she wondered how many cakes were salty messes thanks to Donavon. Still, she forced a smile on her face as she walked through the door, even though her stomach was attacked by a bought of nausea the moment she smelled baking food.
Donavon, who'd likely heard her come inside, stuck his head out of the kitchen door. "I started baking. I hope that's okay."
"It's fine." Assuming, of course, that he didn't forget a vital ingredient—like flour.
She was just about to head into the kitchen, but that was when she saw a tall man standing in front of the glass door. Normally, she wouldn't have paid much attention, but she recognized him. It was the same person who'd watched her and Sebastian when they were kissing. And to make matters worse, the guy didn't just glance at her and move on. No, he was staring. A chill ran down her spine as he raised his fist to the glass and knocked.
"We're closed," Donavon called, annoyed.
Ignoring Donavon, the man knocked again, his gaze never leaving her face.
"I think he wants me." She wrung her hands.
"Oh." Donavon blinked in shock. "Do you want to let him in, or…"
For the first time in her life, she experienced the urge to protect her child. She found herself wrapping her arms around her stomach, desperate to shield the baby from the stranger.
"No, let's not." She shook her head. "I don't think it's safe."
"Sounds good." Donavon's eyes narrowed in distaste. "He's a weirdo anyway. I mean, can't he read the Closed sign?"
"I don't think he's the kind of person who cares about signs." She wasn't sure how she knew he was such a bad person, just that she did.
"Do you know him?" Donavon studied her.
She chewed her bottom lip. "I saw him once before this."
At a loss for what to say, Donavon squirmed.
"Well, let's get baking." She clapped him on the shoulder, feigning bravado.
She entered the kitchen, but even as she began to mix the batter for her lemon-meringue cupcakes, all she could think about was the man's face pressed up against the window. At that moment, her thoughts spiraled in all sorts of horrible directions, just like they always did when she was nervous. Maybe that man was some sort of murderer. Or perhaps he was a ghost or demon or a paranormal entity. She paused, realizing just how ridiculous her thoughts were. Just because some guy had had his face pressed up against the window didn't mean that he was from the depths of hell. It just meant that he was extremely weird or…or…okay, it just meant that he was extremely weird.
"Why did that guy have to latch onto me?" she muttered under her breath.
"What was that?" Donavon, who'd been in the process of mixing whipped vanilla frosting, glanced up.
"Nothing," she said.
But it wasn't nothing. Thoughts of the man filled her mind as she baked cupcakes, bread, and croissants. By the time the bakery opened at eight o'clock, she was feeling sick all over again, but not because of the pregnancy. Even though she longed to take a quick coffee break, she feared the stranger was now hanging around the bakery. She could picture herself sitting at the table, trying to enjoy a good drink, only to be waylaid by the creeper who'd stared at her for no reason.
"Hey, Don, do me a favor." Emmy glanced at her cook.
Donavon yawned but nodded.
"Go look and see if Mr. Creepy came inside."
"Ah, you want me to play bodyguard." Donavon seemed to enjoy the idea because he cracked his knuckles as his eyes sparkled. "I can do that. Your hero is at your service."
"Just go look around."
"If he's out there, do you want me to beat him up?" Donavon asked. "Just so you know, I was on the wrestling team in high school. I can clobber anyone who comes near me."
Donavon weighed a hundred and twenty pounds at most and was the
scrawniest guy she'd ever seen. A seventh-grade girl could beat him up, let alone a tall, muscular stranger.
"Go look around," she repeated, rolling her eyes.
"Are you sure you don't want me to—"
"No!" she cried.
Shoulders slumped, he headed for the exit. "Sheesh. You try to help a woman out and all you get is sass."
He left the kitchen, and she groaned and buried her face in her hands. Though Donavon was probably her favorite employee at the bakery, she frequently wanted to ring his neck in the morning…and in the afternoon…and in the evening. Now that she thought about it, did she ever not want to ring his neck?
As she contemplated her murderous tendencies, Donavon trotted back into the kitchen. "Mademoiselle, the evil doer has left the premises."
She did a double take. "What?"
Donavon's shoulders slumped. "The guy is gone."
"Good job, Batman." She squeezed his shoulder. "Maybe I should give you a raise."
"Really?" He perked up.
"Well, no, but I might give you an extra break today."
"Better than nothing." Donavon grinned, then kneaded bread while humming the Batman theme song.
Emmy retreated from the kitchen before she cut off her ears with a breadknife. After she made herself a cup of coffee strong enough to make her bounce off the walls, she headed into a secluded corner. Just when she was enjoying a succulent sip of coffee, she heard a chair screech on tile. Oh no, it was Donavon, possessed by the essence of Batman.
"Don, did you really follow me out here?" She didn't look up from her mug.
"Who's Don?" said a deep, rumbling voice.
She snapped to attention. Oh great, the person sitting across from her wasn't Donavon. It was Mr. Creepy. So much for an extra break for Donavon. The cook-in-training should count himself lucky if she didn't shove his hand in the food processor and use his flesh for meat pies. Grousing and trembling at the same time, she wrapped her arms around her stomach, protecting the baby as she met the eyes of the man sitting across from her.
"If you need assistance, someone at the counter can help you," she said coolly, trying to maintain calm even though her mind screamed, Oh my God!
"You and I both know I'm not here for food," he said.
"Oh?" Deep breaths, she told herself. Deep breaths.
"Don't play dumb, woman." His eyes narrowed. "You saw me watching you the other day. In fact, I've been watching you a lot, even if you didn't notice me."
Creepier words had never been said, and she'd heard a lot of creepy words.
She stood up, shaking from fear, and decided she needed help. "Donavon!"
Heads turned in her direction, but that was her goal. The more people who looked at them, the less likely her baby would be hurt because of this psycho. The whole reason she was trembling from head to foot, after all, was because she feared for her child. Her life didn't matter. At least, not in comparison to the life growing in her belly.
"Your little friend can't help you." The man stood up too, his eyes narrowed. "I'll just keep watching you."
"Why?" She was flabbergasted. "I don't even know you."
"Oh, you will. And I'm Jake, by the way." His eyes twinkled with deadly malice as he said the words. "Tell Sebastian I said hi."
He had something to do with Sebastian?
She screamed again, "Donavon!"
Finally, Donavon came barreling out of the kitchen with his clothes covered in flour and strawberry jam. Some Batman. He looked more like Donut Boy, a superhero who lived for blinding people with flour and then chocking them to death with salty custard donuts.
"Do you want me to get rid of this guy?" Donavon puffed out his chest, trying to appear impressive but failing.
"Yes." She nodded.
Donavon seized Jake's arm. "You're going to have to leave."
Instead of listening to Donavon's words, Jake looked at the younger man and laughed.
"I mean it." Donavon tightened his grip on his arm. "Leave my boss alone."
"All right, tough guy," Jake said, gazing at Donavon with obvious condescension. "I'll leave her alone."
She breathed a sigh of relief.
Unfortunately, that was when Jake narrowed his eyes at her and said, "For now."
****
Emmy didn't know if she was more mad or frightened. Since Jake knew Sebastian, that meant that the father of her child was responsible for the fact that she had a stalker. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she paced across her apartment and dialed Sebastian's number. The guy answered on the second ring.
"Hello, sweetheart," Sebastian said cheerfully.
"Don't call me sweetheart, you jerk!" She knew she was losing her temper before hearing his side of the story, but damn it all, she was scared for her baby.
"Whoa, what's wrong?" He sounded shocked.
"I met your friend, Jake." She picked up a pillow from the couch and hurled it at the floor. "Do you have a habit of hanging out with awful people? Do you?"
To her surprise, Sebastian didn't try to defend himself. Instead the man sucked in air and said, "Are you okay? He didn't hurt you or the baby, did he?"
"No, he didn't." She tightened her grip on the phone. "But there is something seriously wrong with that man. I looked in his eyes, and all I wanted to do was build a wall between him and my stomach. I don't want him coming anywhere near my baby, Sebastian."
"Your instincts are right," Sebastian said. "That man is the most evil bastard to walk this earth."
"Who is he?" She shook her head. "Why did he come after me?"
"He's an old enemy." Sebastian's vagueness continued. "He came after you to get to me."
"Old enemy?" She hated how he gave nothing away.
"I was more popular than Jake was, so now he has a bone to pick with me. End of story."
Somehow she didn't think that was end of story, so she grumbled as she dug her heel into the pillow.
"This is what I meant when I said you have to know somebody before you marry them." She snarled at the floor. "You're probably a member of the mafia."
"I'm not a member of the mafia." He sounded furious she'd even suggested it.
"A gang, then."
"Do I look like the type of guy who'd be involved with a gang?" He sighed.
"Well, you don't look like a guy who'd have a crazy stalker—well, a crazy male stalker, anyway—but you do," she snapped. "As far as I know, you could be involved in anything."
"I'm not a bad guy, sweetheart," he said. "You have to believe that by now."
She took a deep, steadying breath to calm herself down and then realized that he was right. The truth of the matter was, she didn't think that Sebastian was a bad guy, but she was still worried about the safety of her unborn child. And she may have been worried about Sebastian too. Just a little bit. Well, okay, a lot.
"I'm scared, Sebastian," she said. "What if this guy hurts us?"
He groaned. "Don't be scared. I won't let anything happen to you or the baby."
"This afternoon, he could have done something to me and you weren't there," she said.
"He won't have another opportunity to come after you." His voice dripped with determination. "I'm going to protect you no matter what."
"But who's going to protect you?" she asked.
"I don't need protection." He sounded so serious it shocked her.
"You aren't made of steel," she said.
"I might as well be."
Whatever the hell that meant.
"Just be careful, okay?" She sank onto the couch.
"Don't be concerned about me, sweetheart," he said. "Just focus on the baby. And anyway, now that I know that Jake has singled you out, we're going to stick together like Sonny and Cher."
Every independent bone in her body screamed in panic, but she knew that having Sebastian at her side was the best possible thing for her.
"If you think that's best." She sighed.
"I do." He paused. "Besides, it's great practice for when
we're married."
"Hey, wait a minute." She went rigid. "I never said that I'd marry—"
Sebastian said, "I'm coming to your place now. Don't eat anything. I'll bring dinner."
The man ended the call.
"You."
She stared down at the phone, feeling as though she'd been hoodwinked.
Chapter Five
"Oh my God, that feels so good," Emmy whimpered as she squeezed her eyes shut.
Sebastian was on his knees before her, massaging her feet. His eyes twinkled as he ran his hands up to her ankles and began to pamper her tendons.
"I told you that I have magical hands." Sebastian winked as he moved up to her calves.
Magical hands indeed. At this rate, she was going to die from pleasure. Or at the very least, have an impromptu orgasm. "Don't think I've forgotten about the Jake things because of this massage. I'm still mad."
Sebastian kneaded her muscle. "And you have a right to be."
"You're being awfully amenable." She cracked open an eye.
"Of course I am." He nodded. "You're right, after all."
"You're making it so hard for me to yell at you." She groaned. "First you bring me pizza and chocolate ice cream. Now you're agreeing with everything I say and…oh…God, that's the spot!"
The man's eyes sparkled as he continued his work. "So you like it when I touch you here, do you?"
Her eyes snapped open. "Please don't tell me that you expect this full-body massage to turn sexual…"
Sebastian shrugged.
"Oh my God, you do." She seized a pillow and hit him over the head with it.
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, ignoring the fact that he'd just been smacked by a fluffy object.
She groaned in ecstasy as his fingers delved into her muscles again. "Well, no."
"I didn't think so." He chuckled.
As he continued to massage her, she melted into the couch. Still, even as he pleasured her, she couldn't help but wonder how he'd managed to make enemies with El Creepo, aka Jake.
"Sebastian, tell me more about why you're involved with that stalker guy," she said.
Sebastian snapped to attention, and his eyes darkened. "I told you everything."
"No, you didn't." She gritted her teeth. "You were super-vague."