HIS BABY’S KEEPER

by Evelyn Glass

  Dean stripped off his own shirt and pants in record time. The way he plunged onto the bed with her made her think that he would take her almost viciously, but instead, everything slowed down to a glacial pace. His mouth moved over her body, stopping at her nipples, her neck, her earlobes. He kissed her while he teased the head of his cock over her still sensitive pussy. He nestled himself in the cleft of her lips and dragged himself over her flesh, slick and almost painful. She begged him to move faster, to bury himself in her. He wouldn’t give her — or him — the satisfaction. He continued to move against her as slowly as he wanted to.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked after an eternity.

  “Yes,” she whispered. Her voice was gone, too shaken to be loud, too full of pleasure and desire to be anything other than needy.

  He slid into her, tip to hilt, in one smooth motion that left them both shuddering. He slipped his hand under her hips, pulling her just a little closer to him so that she could take just a little bit more of him.

  “Like this?” he asked.

  “Faster,” she replied, trying to move her hips to urge him on. His grip was too tight, keeping her too still, pierced into place by the length of him, the delicious press of him.

  He leaned down, locking her mouth against his in a searing kiss that twisted up her belly and made her buck against him, but still, he kept up the same steady, rocking rhythm.

  “No,” he said. “You told me to do this, you don’t get to choose how it happens. I can stop, or I can keep going, but this is how I want to be inside of you, Emma. I want to be delicate. I want to be dependable.” She could see the moment where his breath caught in his throat, and he had to close his eyes tightly before he could open them and proceed. “I want to be yours.”

  Something flared through her, not lust or an orgasm, something more emotionally intense and deeply powerful. She matched her movements to his, trusting him as he dragged his cock over the places deep inside of her that needed a release. When it was close, she slipped a hand between them, idly flicking at her clit a few more times. That, more than anything else, seemed to finally break his reserve. He didn’t speed up so much as each thrust became more urgent, more demanding. He slapped into her harder, pulled out more deliberately, and slid home again with the incredible power of gravity. Her orgasm broke over her just a moment after his started, and their cries twisted up together as he finally, delightfully, collapsed over her, pinning her to the bed with the solidity of his weight.

  ###

  She dozed for a little while. When her eyes opened again, Dean was next to her, his head pillowed on his arm, his gaze focused firmly on her face.

  “Hi,” she said quietly, stretching carefully. Her thigh brushed against his hip, and she wanted him all over again, even as tired and sore as she was. When her hands smoothed over his belly, though, he caught them gently, bringing them up to his mouth and pressing a light kiss against her knuckles.

  “We need to talk some more,” he said.

  “Okay,” she replied. It was interesting, being naked in someone else’s bed. That hadn’t happened in a while. She had had plenty of dalliances, not so many cuddles. She tried to relax into and wrap herself up in the sensation, enjoying the flow of it over her skin. It was nice. Comfortable. Safe.

  The idea of being safe with this brute of a man seemed so counter-intuitive that it almost made her afraid. How could she possibly be willing to daydream about such a thing? Yet here she was. Feeling safe. She wasn’t ready to say that she was throwing away all the respectability and privilege she’d worked for, but whether the moment was fleeting or not, it felt like something deep and powerful for now. She wasn’t ready to walk away from that feeling either.

  “What did you find when you got back to your house?” he asked.

  It was the question she’d been dreading.

  “He’d been there,” she said, thinking that if she just said it, all at once, maybe it would be easier. “The man who kidnapped me. He had been there. He took Mia’s backpack. I guess because I told him her medicine was in there.”

  “Did he touch anything else?”

  “Not that I could see,” Emma said. “I thought it was okay, and I tried to go to sleep, but I just couldn’t do it. So, I came here.” His face was still and quiet, and she didn’t like that. Shouldn’t he be comforting her or reassuring her that she had been safe? Wasn’t there something he was supposed to be doing?

  “You shouldn’t have stayed there,” he said. “What if something had happened to you? What if he’d been waiting for you? You should’ve called me. I would’ve come and gotten you.”

  She shook her head firmly. “Are you kidding? You were asleep on your feet when you left. I didn’t think there was a chance of you making it back to my place without hurting yourself. And honestly? You were so quick to leave, I wasn’t sure you’d pick up your phone if I did call.”

  He winced visibly, and she tried not to be frustrated. It was the truth, she reminded herself. There hadn’t seemed to be any point at all in letting him know what was going on.

  He seemed to brush away the conversation with a move of his hand. “We’ll argue about that later,” he said, and it was adorable how he assumed there would be a later. She didn’t correct him, however. “Tell me everything you can think of about the car. The man. All of it.”

  Emma tried not to sigh. He’d done this twice before he’d been willing to leave her as well. She turned all the details over in her mind — and at the very end, something finally sparked. It had been strange at the time, but then so much had happened and she hadn’t thought to mention it. “He had a bullet, hanging from his rearview mirror. Just the casing, and on the butt end, there was a star scratched into it. Like snipers do in movies. To mark their kills or whatever.”

  Dean nodded. “Okay. That doesn’t mean anything to me, but it gives me some ideas about who we should call, and where we should be asking questions.” And then he went completely still. “No, wait,” he said, and she did. “On Fred’s chest,” he said, his voice a low and terrified rumble, a combination that Emma did not enjoy at all. “Connell said there was a carving there. Of a star. I—do you think?”

  “Yeah,” Emma said, torn between running from the room and snuggling into him closer and asking for protection. “Yeah. I think the same man killed Fred and kidnapped me.”

  “But why? You don’t know anything about Fred Killian, and if someone were trying to get me, grabbing Fred would be a terrible play. What the hell is even happening here?”

  Emma opened her mouth to say something else, but Dean shook his head. “No,” he said. “No. Here’s the thing. We’re both fucking exhausted. Too much is happening, way too fast. We need more information, but we need it to be good, reliable information. I’m going to text this to Connell, and then you and I are going to get some sleep. Because we need to be able to help my little girl when we know what we’re doing. But us standing around with our thumbs up our asses isn’t going to help her, it isn’t going to help us, and it’s not going to help Connell find her.”

  It hurt so much to do it, but Emma nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

  “Good,” he said. He picked his phone off the table and tapped in a message, then set it down on the bureau again. He laid back on the pillow, opening his arms wide to her. “C’mere.”

  “Are you sure you trust me near that power tool of yours?” she asked, but she settled into his arms without any objection. He was semi-erect against her belly, but not insistently hard. It was both a relief and a shame, all at the same time. She was exhausted, but her body craved him in a way that continued to surprise her.

  “If you behave yourself, I’ll behave myself,” he said. His hips shifted against her stomach, and she felt him tense just a little bit more.

  “One more for the road?”

  “Your wish is my command,” he said, and she honestly thought he might just slide right inside of her. She was wet enough, and he was coming to attention at a shocking pa
ce. But instead, he put a hand on her hip and turned her over, pressing her down into the mattress as he slid behind her. “Tell me what you want.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dean

  In the morning, Dean let Emma get into the shower and turn on the water before he followed her into the room. There was another quickie while she was pressed up against the shower wall, him kneading her breasts and her fingering her clit until she clenched around him, making him blow ferociously inside of her. They cleaned up, giggling at each other like everything was just fine.

  He loved it, and he hated it, all at once. He couldn’t shake that moment when he’d left her at her apartment, and it had seemed like he would never see her again. How he’d felt that, sitting with that, aching for her, wanting her so very much.

  He traded a few messages with Connell, who said that there wasn’t anything yet, but he was still running down leads. They set up a time to meet at the clubhouse that afternoon.

  “I need to go check on Abbey,” he said after some time had passed.

  They took his bike, and she slid behind him like an old pro. They hadn’t talked about it at all in their cheerful banter that morning. What she expected from him. What she wanted, besides his physical presence. What was going to happen next.

  He tried to push those worrying thoughts out of his mind. She felt sweet and right behind him, her thighs tight around his, her arms wrapped around his middle. That was all that mattered right now.

  Sue was gone when they got to Abbey’s. His sister-in-law was curled up on the couch, looking small and fragile, tucked up in blankets. Yesterday, she had the fury of someone who needed to stay alive. Today, he could see the wounds the entire situation had inflicted on her. The dark circles under her eyes and the puffiness of her eyelids told him plenty about how she was doing. She had been crying. She hadn’t slept well. But she was here. She was alive. That was a start.

  “Hey,” he said after she let them in, then retreated back to her small nest. “How’re you holding up?”

  “Sue went out for coffee and bagels,” Abbey replied. “She said she was going to get a bunch of things. I’m sure there will be plenty for you two as well.” There was a quick, momentary pause, and then she asked the question that Dean had known she was going to ask, and that still tore him up inside. “Dean, where’s my baby girl? How did you fuck this up so badly?”

  Even though he was prepared for it, he flinched back. “Abbey, I—”

  “No,” she said. There wasn’t any anger in her tone, which seemed strange. God knew he was furious with himself. Why shouldn’t she hate him too? “Just tell me what’s happening. What are you doing to find her?”

  He sagged into one of the chairs opposite her perch on the couch. After a moment, Emma sat down in the matching chair, but she stayed perched, instead of relaxing into the chair’s embrace.

  “We’re running down every lead we possibly can. Connell is on it. He thinks he might have something for me this afternoon. But he wants to know everything that you can remember about what happened.”

  Abbey was quiet for a long moment, and then she shook her head gently. “I don’t know, Dean. They hit my car, took me while I was on the phone with you. They drugged me, kept me drugged. I didn’t have my meds, and my brain was zapping out every other second. I don’t remember much of it.”

  “But it was a they? More than one person?”

  She was quiet for a minute, then nodded. “Yes. Two. Both big, strong. One of them picked me up and tossed me in a car, the other got into my car. What happened to my car?”

  “They found it on the side of the road, concealed in some underbrush. Keys still in it. Connell has it at the garage—I’ll bring it around for you later.”

  They all sat in silence, and Emma was finally settling back in the chair when Abbey spoke again. “You just have to get her back, Dean. I know she’s yours, really, but I need her back.”

  The smile felt like it would crack his mouth, but he knew she needed to see it. “Abbey. She’s yours. She’s always been yours, just like she was Sam’s, and just like she’s mine. You’ve been with her more than I have. Don’t knock that. We’ll get her back.”

  “You better,” she replied, and yes. There was the anger. He needed it, needed it to fuel him and push him forward. He would have thanked her if he thought she would be all right with that.

  Chapter Twenty

  Emma

  “And what about you?” Abbey’s eyes turned to Emma, and she made herself smile. “How did Dean get you involved in this whole mess?”

  “I was at the school when Mia was taken. I’ve been trying to help him any way I can.” It was easier to skip over the part where he compelled her to come along with him.

  “I know that — you told me back at the warehouse. But why are you here? What are you doing to help him?” Abbey raised her eyebrows and waited. There was a looseness to her that seemed familiar. Based on the prescriptions she’d seen in the woman’s medicine cabinet the previous day, that seemed much better than the alternative. Emma could own that part of the reason she’d turned up on Dean’s doorstep the previous night was that if she didn’t have some kind of release, she would have gone down a very unhealthy road as the stress and fear of the day caught up with her system. Sex with a man she barely knew had been the least bad of some very bad options. She was glad Abbey was choosing a healthier way to manage this experience.

  That said, her question was awkward as hell. Dean had explained Abbey as Mia’s aunt, but in every way that mattered, she was clearly a mother to the child. Hell, Emma hadn’t even known that Mia wasn’t Abbey’s daughter until Dean explained it. She wasn’t sure how to say that she found the man incredibly intriguing and that she wasn’t ready to back away. That she wanted to know that Mia was safe, and it wasn’t just about feeling like she had a responsibility as a teacher. That she was invested now, in a way she wouldn’t have been otherwise.

  “I can’t give up now,” she finally said. She didn’t know what else to say.

  Abbey nodded as if the words said more than she’d expected or more than Emma had noticed. “My sister was a good girl who got involved with a bad boy,” she said, shooting a glance over at Dean. Dean didn’t rise to the bait, and Emma hardly had enough evidence to contradict her. “She died in a car accident that no one thinks was an accident except for the police. And now, someone comes for me, for Mia? It’s too much of a coincidence.”

  “What do you mean, about the car accident?”

  Dean stood up too fast. The chair rocked on its legs just a bit. “I can’t do this again, Abbey. I’ll be back in fifteen minutes. Be done with the story.” He stalked out of the apartment, his face stony and cold in a way Emma had never seen before. She glanced back at Abbey who was watching him go, a similar coldness in his eyes.

  “Am I missing something important here?” Emma asked.

  Abbey shrugged. “Probably, but it’s about time he faced it,” she said. “Sam didn’t die randomly. I don’t know why he won’t face it. She’d just gotten a new job, was ready to help him get his life straightened out, and had a beautiful new baby to take care of. And then something went wrong. She got scared. She wouldn’t tell me what was going on. She told Dean to leave the club and to take her and the baby out of the state. He wouldn’t. And then she was dead. I came up here to take care of the baby while Dean got straight, but he never got straight. He never got out of the life. I don’t think he ever will. Even though it killed the woman he loved, he won’t get off that fucking bike.”

  Emma’s stomach was a tight knot as she stared at the other woman. What was all of this about? She forced herself to sidestep the comments about Dean and listen to what Abbey had said about Sam. “What do you mean, that something went wrong? At her new job?”

  “Yeah. She was like a girl in the first act of an action flick, you know? She was sure someone was coming for her. She wore big sunglasses out in public and was convinced everyone was talking about her. Compl
ete ridiculousness. Until it wasn’t.”

  “But you said — Dean said she died in a car accident.”

  “Yeah. She stepped out of the apartment to go get a gallon of milk, and a driver hopped the curve, drove straight into her. The paramedics said she was dead before they even got there.” Abbey shook her head. “If she had taken the baby, they both would be dead. And maybe Dean would have lost enough to listen to someone or something other than his dick.”

  There wasn’t anything to say to that, and after a moment, Emma decided not to try. She just sat quietly, her hands in her lap, waiting for Dean to get back.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Dean

  Dean didn’t go far. He didn’t want to leave the women behind, but hearing the story of Sam, yet again, was more than he could handle. The two of them had been something special, but they’d also been kids. Sam getting pregnant had been a mistake, and they’d followed through with it for all the right reasons and some of the wrong ones. There was never a single moment when he regretted Mia being in his life, but if Sam hadn’t died, he sometimes wondered. It was easy to imagine the three of them as some kind of perfect little family. But things had been tense between him and Samara throughout her pregnancy, and it had gotten worse once the baby had arrived. She’d thought that once they had a child, she’d be able to tell him to walk away from everything he’d ever considered important. If she’d asked, maybe things would be different, but she’d just handed it down, without a single conversation.