The Alpha's Baby

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The Alpha's Baby Page 12

by M. E. James


  "I do like horror movies." For some reason, they'd always appealed to her. "I never said I didn't enjoy Kill All the Teenager Girls Part 4."

  The man studied her. "So you like to watch a bunch of screaming girls get murdered?"

  "I'm a bloodthirsty wench, what can I say?"

  "Did you just call yourself a bloodthirsty wench?" Sebastian ran his fingers over her stomach, grinning from ear to ear. "That's kind of hot."

  "Hey, watch your hand, mister." She pushed him away. "No more sexy time."

  "Ah, why not?" He nibbled on her earlobe.

  "I have to work tomorrow." Even as she said the words, she was grinning.

  He fondled her breast. "Still no?"

  "Still no."

  "Hmm." The man shoved his hand into her pajama bottoms and stuck his finger inside of her pussy, making her suck in air. "How about now?"

  Groaning, she stared at her fiancé as her cunt pulsed with desire.

  "All right, just one more time," she said. "Only one more."

  "One more it is, sweetheart." Sebastian winked and kissed her.

  Chapter Six

  The next morning, Emmy cursed as her alarm clock went off. She couldn't believe that it was morning already. She sat up and glanced down at Sebastian who was lying at her side. Her exhaustion was his entire fault. One sex session had turned into two and then three. Okay, she may have agreed to make love every time, but really, who could say no to Sebastian? The man fiddled with her girlie bits and suddenly, she was willing to fuck all night.

  Sighing, Emmy climbed out of bed, half wanting to whack him over the head with a pillow to rouse him from his sleep. Fortunately—or maybe unfortunately—no whacking was needed. Sebastian sat up, looking as gorgeous as ever despite the fact it was so early.

  "You don't have to get out of bed." Though if he did, she'd at least have somebody to be tired with.

  "Yes, I do. I'm going to the bakery." Sebastian yawned. "After all, I promised I'd keep you safe, didn't I?"

  "Well, yeah." She just hadn't thought that meant he'd come with her to work.

  "Trust me, I take protecting you seriously." Sebastian climbed out of bed, looking scrumptious with his tight ass and his bulging muscles.

  Unfortunately, Sebastian saw her gawking. "We might have time for one more round of hot sex before we go."

  "No." She glared at him.

  "I bet I could turn that no into a yes." He gave her a seductive grin.

  Since she also bet that he could turn her no into a yes, she did the only thing she could in order to keep her hoo-haw safe from her lack of self-control—she locked herself in the bathroom.

  Sebastian roared with laughter outside of the bathroom door. "Nice. Real mature."

  "Oh, go get the coffee started, you lecher," she said.

  "Lecher?" He feigned hurt. "I believe it was you who jumped on top of me in the middle of the night."

  Her face burned. "I was on my way to the bathroom and lost my balance while getting out of bed."

  "Excuses, excuses." Sebastian laughed again.

  "If you were in here with me, I'd throttle you," she said.

  "Sure you would, sweetheart." Sebastian snorted.

  "One of these times, you'll push me too far."

  "Jeez, you're feisty in the morning," he said.

  "Just make me some coffee before I commit homicide." If she didn't have caffeine in her system soon, she wasn't sure what she'd do.

  "I'm on it," he said.

  After she was certain that Sebastian had gone into the kitchen, she washed her face and brushed her teeth. Just as she was pulling her hair into a ponytail, Sebastian's words from last night floated into her head: "No, sweetheart, I'm saying that I'm a…a…werewolf." For some odd reason, the hair on the back of her neck stood on end.

  "I really am the most naive human being on the face of the planet." She fluffed her bangs as she glared at her reflection.

  Sebastian had been messing with her. She shouldn't believe a word of what she said. After she forced all thoughts of werewolves from her mind, she stepped out of the bathroom. Unfortunately, that was when she smelled something burning. Not good.

  She hurriedly rushed into the kitchen. Sebastian had not only started the coffee, he was also cooking bacon. Or, more rather, burning bacon.

  "What the hell are you doing?" Bacon was a holy food. It shouldn't be tarnished.

  "Cooking breakfast?" Sebastian glanced at her sheepishly.

  She looked down at the cinders in the frying pan. "This was beyond cooked two minutes ago. I believe what you have now is called ash."

  "I bet it's still edible." Sebastian reached to pick a piece of bacon out of the frying pan.

  "It's still hot. Don't—"

  Sebastian grabbed the piece of bacon and then dropped it in a hurry. "Son of a bitch!"

  "Grab it." She sighed in exasperation.

  "Ouch." He glared at the bad burn on his finger.

  "Oh, good grief." She shook her head. "I've seen five-year-olds with more sense."

  "You aren't the pitying type, are you?" He raised an eyebrow.

  "Not when I see a full-grown man stick his finger in a smoldering skillet I'm not." Yet even as she said the words, she grabbed a paper towel in order to clean his wound.

  "Yeah, I probably shouldn't have done that." The man was grinning again, despite the fact that he must have been in pain.

  She seized his wrist. "Let me see your finger."

  "I'm fine." He tried to pull his wrist away.

  "At least let me look at it." Scowling, she yanked at his wrist again and was shocked to see an untarnished finger.

  He shrugged. "I told you, I'm fine."

  "But I saw a burn." She stared down at his finger in disbelief.

  In response, Sebastian said nothing. At that moment, she realized she must have been going nuts. There was no burn.

  "Or I saw nothing." She threw up her hands. "You're fine."

  Sebastian met her eyes.

  "What?" She raised an eyebrow.

  The man sighed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  "Seriously, what's wrong?" She placed her hand on his head. "Don't tell me the burned bacon fumes liquefied your brain."

  "Ha, ha, ha." He rolled his eyes.

  "What inspired you to make bacon, anyway?"

  "Well, you're pregnant, so I thought you needed something for breakfast," he said.

  "Leave the cooking to the chef." She winked at him.

  She headed to the refrigerator and pulled out a package of microwavable bacon. After placing the pieces of bacon on a plate, she popped the food into the microwave for thirty seconds.

  "Ta-da!" She waved dramatically at the microwave. "Bacon perfection."

  Sebastian chuckled. "You're cooking skills are something else."

  "Well, I can say that I'm smart enough to read the word 'microwavable' on the package…sweetheart." Then she laid a kiss on his lips and went to grab her purse.

  ****

  By midafternoon, Emmy was puking again, and she couldn't even blame it on Sebastian's overcooked bacon. While she laid her chin on the toilet seat, she made inventive promises to God. If he stopped her from puking, she'd be nicer to employees. She'd even stop giving other drivers the middle finger on the freeway. Hell, she might share her double-fudge ice cream with Sebastian.

  Okay, maybe she wouldn't share her ice cream, but she'd do everything else.

  Unfortunately, God must not have been impressed with her promises, because five seconds later, she was puking into the toilet again. By the time she was done vomiting, she was shocked that she still had a spleen. Sinking to the floor by the toilet, she ran her hands through her hair and cursed underneath her breath. Naturally, somebody chose that exact moment to call her cell phone. Musical clinging filled the air, and she swore before answering it.

  "Hello," her mom, Ann, said.

  She should have known. Her mom always sensed when she was miserable.


  "Hey." She wiped her vomit from her mouth.

  "Are you okay?" her mom asked. "You sound hoarse."

  "I'm okay. I just have a little stomach bug."

  Liar, liar pants on fire, she thought. Still it wasn't like she could say, "Hey, Mom, guess what? I'm knocked up!" over the phone. Her mom might faint, and her religious dad would take out his shotgun and chase Sebastian around with it. Turning the other cheek was all well and good—until a Catholic man's daughter got pregnant outside of wedlock.

  "You're sick because you work too much," her mom said. "Don't I always say that you work too much?"

  She rolled her eyes. Her mom lived fifty miles away and still nagged. "Yes, Mom."

  "And it would help your immune system if you ate more. You're too skinny," her mom said. "You should come over. I'll have you fattened up in no time."

  "Mom, I'm healthy."

  "You're obviously not, if you're getting sick," her mom said.

  She had to fight the urge to drop the phone in the toilet just to get out of this conversation. Yes, she loved her parents, but she always wondered how she'd managed to live with them for twenty years without jumping in front of a fast-approaching train.

  And just wait until they find out that you're pregnant, an evil voice said in her head.

  Shit. Her hands shook at the thought, but she knew she had to tell them. They were her parents, after all. It wasn't like she could keep their grandkid a secret from them…or wait, maybe she could. She winced at her own cowardly thinking. When she told them, the worst thing that could happen was that her mom would cry and her dad would say he was disappointed in her. Still she'd always had the I-must-please-my-mommy-and-daddy gene. She wanted to make them happy, even if she never managed it.

  "You know, I'm glad you called." Sort of. "I need to come over sometime. We have something that we need to discuss."

  "Uh-oh. This has to be about the bakery." Her mom gasped. "You're running out of money, aren't you? I told you that starting a business straight out of college was an awful idea."

  "Mom, my business is going fine." Her mouth twitched. Sometimes when she went a few weeks without calling her mom, she forgot how hard conversing with her could be. "In fact, my sales have been going up since February."

  "Oh." Her mom sounded insultingly shocked. "What is it, then?"

  "I'll tell you when I come over," she said.

  "Why don't you come over tonight?" her mom said. "I'm making stuffed peppers. You love stuffed peppers."

  "Not tonight." Emmy had to come up with a game plan. That way, she would be less likely to jump out a window due to prolonged exposure to nagging.

  "But I'm making my famous coconut cake," her mom said.

  "Not tonight." Not even the richest cake in the world would convince her to enter her mom's house unprepared.

  "Oh, phooey." Her mom sighed. "Fine. Call me before you come so I can cook you something. I still say you're too skinny."

  She rolled her eyes. "All right, Mom."

  "Bye, sweetie," her mom said. "Love you."

  "Love you too."

  Emmy ended the call, wondering when she was going to have the courage to face her parents after her mistake.

  ****

  Nothing made a woman hungrier than puking. At least, it seemed that way to Emmy as she stumbled out of the kitchen, feeling ravenous. She headed out to the dining room, expecting to see Sebastian parked at a table with his laptop where he'd been all day.

  Unfortunately, when she headed around the corner, he was still at his table, but he wasn't alone. Annabelle and Tina were hovering over him, making goo-goo eyes. An angry tiger roared in her belly that she was ninety-nine percent sure hadn't been there before. Either that, or it had been hiding in a dark corner, concealing its carnivorous intentions.

  Scowling, she marched toward Annabelle and Tina, thinking of all the ways that she could make their lives miserable if they didn't get away from Sebastian in, oh, the next two seconds. Like usual, they were so busy talking that they didn't notice her coming up behind them.

  "Why don't you go out for smoothies with us?" Annabelle tossed her platinum hair over her shoulder.

  "No, thank you. I'm not much of a smoothie fan." Sebastian shook his head. "Besides, I'm already spoken for. It would be inappropriate."

  "It's just lunch," Tina said. "And we could get Chinese instead."

  "Or Mexican," Annabelle suggested.

  "I know this great Indian place." Tina batted her eyes.

  Sebastian shook his head, frustrated. Unlike Annabelle and Tina, he'd noticed Emmy was there and rolled his eyes at the two girls.

  "How about Thai?" Emmy placed her hands on her hips as both Annabelle and Tina froze in horror. "I bet you'd love Thai."

  "You know what, Thai sounds amazing." Sebastian's stood up and kissed Emmy on the lips.

  "You two are together?" Annabelle gaped.

  "I'm her fiancé." Sebastian gave a satisfied smirk.

  Annabelle gazed at Emmy with unflattering disbelief. "Really?"

  "Yes. And I believe your job is to man the register, not pick up guys." Emmy gave her a pointed look. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer not to have a job at all."

  "Well, there weren't any customers around." Annabelle was already inching her way toward the cash register.

  "So sorry." Tina dashed off as Annabelle followed behind her.

  Shaking her head, Emmy turned her attention back toward Sebastian. The man wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer.

  "How long were those two bothering you?" She pressed her palms against his muscular chest.

  "It felt like forever." Sebastian moaned in frustration. "I'm in my thirties, and they're, what, eighteen? I don't understand why they thought their behavior was appropriate."

  "Girls like older guys." Which unfortunately had the angry tiger roaring again.

  "Hmm." Sebastian patted her rear end fondly. "How old are you?"

  "Twenty-eight," she said.

  "That makes me an older guy." Sebastian nuzzled her neck.

  "Guess I'm lucky."

  Even though she shouldn't have been canoodling in the middle of the bakery, Sebastian's body pressed up against hers felt oh so right.

  "So, how much do you like older guys?" He grinned at her teasingly.

  "Well enough to go eat Thai with them," she said.

  "I want to do more than eat Thai food with you." His grin widened. "I was thinking more along the lines of a sexy afternoon in bed. Though I think bringing dessert into the bedroom would be acceptable."

  "Yummy." A shiver ran down her spine.

  "Just wait until I break out the chocolate sauce and whipped cream." He pressed a hot kiss against her earlobe.

  "Mmmm." She squeezed her eyes shut. "Sounds like the beginnings of a delicious fudge sundae."

  "Oh, it's delicious, all right." The man winked. "Do you want to know where I'll put the fudge?"

  She licked her lips. "Why don't you tell me?"

  "I think I'll start with your lips"—he brushed his fingers across her mouth—"and then I'll pour some on your stomach all the way to your cunt."

  "Sebastian!" She glanced behind her to make sure nobody heard such dirty talk.

  "After that, I'll probably take some ice cream and put it right on your ass." Sebastian pressed his palm against her butt cheek. "Then I'll lick everything off you until you're screaming."

  She swallowed. "I think you forgot the cherry. A sundae isn't a sundae without a cherry."

  "I didn't forget the cherry." He brushed his hand against her crotch. "It's my favorite part. Didn't you know?"

  "No, I didn't." Her eyes widened.

  He leaned forward so he was whispering in her ear. "And since it's my favorite part, I always eat it nice and slow."

  She gasped.

  "What do you think?" His eyes danced as she stared at him. "Do you want to have a sundae? I'll buy everything. All you have to bring is yourself."

  Oh God, her cunt was ov
erflowing. "O-okay."

  "Good." He pressed her against him, and it didn't escape her attention that he shifted so her large breasts were brushing against his chest.

  As she drooled and dreamed about being covered in fudge, the moment was interrupted by Sebastian's phone ringing. Cursing, the man released her.

  He checked the caller ID. "It's my brother."

  "You can answer it." That way, she'd have time to recover. She was so hot that she was worried her brain might liquefy.

  Nodding, Sebastian answered the phone.

  "Hey, Zeb, what's up?" he asked.

  Unfortunately, Zeb's response made Sebastian's face drain of color. Her heart pounded, and not because she was excited by the idea of dessert.

  "Is there something wrong?" She tugged on Sebastian's sleeve.

  He met her eyes and nodded. His brother said something into the phone, but she couldn't make out what he said.

  "I can't leave now, Zeb." Sebastian grunted. "I have to look after Emmy."

  She tensed. It didn't seem right that Sebastian had to stay at the bakery for her sake. If something was wrong with his brother, then he should have gone to him.

  "Sebastian," she said.

  "I'll do what I can from here." He ignored her and began to pace.

  "Sebastian!" she cried.

  The man lowered his phone from his ear.

  "I don't know what's going on, but if it's an emergency, you don't have to stay here with me." She didn't want to keep Sebastian from his brother.

  "Of course I do." He shook his head. "You're the mother of my child. Just because my brother is hurt—"

  "Your brother is hurt?" she interrupted.

  "Yes." He winced.

  "Then you need to go to him." There was no other solution. "I'll be okay here."

  "Jake could hurt you if I'm not around." His fists clenched at his sides.

  Even though she was nervous, she had to see reason. "How? I'm in the middle of a crowded bakery. He can't do any serious damage."

  "He came after you last time." A vein pulsed in Sebastian's jaw.

  "Well, he may have threatened me a little, but he didn't do anything."

  "He could now," Sebastian said. "I don't want anything to happen to you."

  "Then I'll go with you to see your brother."

 

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