Mountain Man's Baby Plan

by Nikki Chase

  If anything, the pictures show everyone having fun. I’ll bet this snow storm will end up a pleasant memory.

  If Nicole had gotten the cell phone she wanted, she would’ve been texting me. Under the circumstances—I glance at the beautiful woman sleeping on the couch next to me—I’m not sure that would’ve been a good idea.

  What if she had called while I was pressing my rock-hard cock against Sophia?

  I wonder what I should tell Sophia about Nicole.

  When I first saw Sophia naked by the fire, I didn’t think it was going to matter at all, so I hadn’t thought about it. I didn’t think I had a chance in hell with the woman of my dreams.

  But now, everything has changed. To think she had crouched behind the counter at the cupcake shop just to avoid me. To think that a couple of days ago, she would’ve preferred to have cupcake icing all over her than make small talk with me.

  I huff a small laugh as my fingers caress Sophia’s soft, red, icing-free hair. I didn’t think I’d ever touch these flaming strands again.

  So, what should I tell her about Nicole? What should I fucking tell her about the reason I told her to leave, especially when it concerns someone who tortured her and made her life a living hell for years?

  “Would you ever forgive me?” I whisper in the dark, not expecting a response.

  Sophia’s breathing is slow and regular. A blanket covers her, but I can make out the shape of her tits under it. I can see her chest rising up and down with her every breath.

  Despite the heavy thoughts clouding my mind, I can’t help but remember the way her tits looked and felt and tasted. Despite everything, my cock twitches in my pants.

  Seriously, man? I want to ask myself.

  But, Sophia has always had a certain … unique effect on me.

  She’s singularly, overwhelmingly exquisite. She takes my breath away when I look at her gorgeous face, when I hear the witty things she says, when she seduces me with her complete submission.

  “What am I going to do with you, princess?” I ask—again, not expecting an answer. “What the fuck am I supposed to do here?”

  A deep pit gapes open in my stomach.

  There’s another effect Sophia has on me. She terrifies me.

  Yes, this petite, slender, smooth-skinned red-head scares me like nothing else can.

  It may sound strange, but it makes complete sense.

  In my whole life, nothing has ever hurt me as much as losing her did.

  Now that I’ve let myself believe it’s possible for me to have her back in my life again, I’m petrified.

  There are things about me she doesn’t know, things that can potentially change everything between the two of us.

  It’s not just the past that we need to deal with. It’s also the present, and the future.

  I don’t want Sophia to walk away again. But, at the same time, I can’t ask her to abandon her dreams for someone like me, someone who has lied to her and hurt her.

  She tries to act like she’s unaffected, but I see glimpses of her pain when she glances away from me, when she pulls away from me. I inflicted a wound on her that hasn’t healed in the seven years we’ve been apart.

  She’s back in my life, yes. But, for how long? And, can I be selfish enough to ask her to stay after the way I betrayed her the last time she trusted me?

  Ring ring! Ring ring!

  Jesus, I forgot how loud those old phones can be.

  I wake up with a start and jump up to my feet right away.

  Damn it, I was planning to let Sophia sleep in. I wanted to make her some breakfast before gently waking her up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

  I squint at the blinding rays streaming in through the window, then at the clock. It’s nine a.m. Not too early for a phone call, I guess.

  Whoever’s calling has no idea I stayed up until four this morning, making out with my drunk ex-girlfriend, giving myself grief for making out with my drunk ex-girlfriend, and then plotting ways for me to keep making out with my ex-girlfriend in the future—even when she’s not drunk.

  I grab the phone receiver angrily even though I know it was my own fault I didn’t lower the volume before falling asleep last night.

  “Hello.” My voice is normally gruff, and being sleepy doesn’t help me sound better.

  “Hello, may I speak to Mr. Strome, please?” says a woman’s on the other end of the line.

  “Speaking,” I say, keeping my volume down as I glance at Sophia, who’s wriggling awake in her blanket on the couch.

  “Oh, hi, Elijah.” The voice on the phone turns saccharine sweet. No doubt this is the teacher who continues to flirt with me every time I stop by the school despite my obvious lack of interest. I blame Mom’s friend, Brenda, who insisted on setting me up on a blind date with her. “This is Nicole. Mackenzie, I mean.” She laughs. “Obviously.”

  “Hi, Miss Mackenzie.”

  “You can drop the formalities,” she says. “But, I suppose it feels weird to call me Nicole, too huh?”

  “Is everything alright?” I ask flatly.

  “Oh, yes. Everything’s great. Silly me. Of course, you want to know how things are. You’re probably worried sick,” she says.

  “Well, yes, mainly because normally the school contacts my mother at home, so I’m inclined to think something has gone wrong.” I’m growing irritated by her attempts to prolong the phone call. I wish she’d just get to the heart of the matter.

  “On the contrary, I’m just calling to tell you everything’s fine and the kids are about to be shuttled back home by bus right now.”

  “That’s a relief. Can I speak with Nicole now?”

  “You’re speaking with me now,” she answers, laughing.

  I stay silent.

  “I’m just joking,” she says finally. “I’ll get her right now.”

  “Thank you.” While I wait for the only Nicole I’m interested in speaking with, I draw the blinds closed. Sophia is rubbing her eyes, but maybe I can help prolong her rest somewhat.

  “Hello, who’s this?” asks a bossy voice from the phone.

  I chuckle. “You don’t pick up the phone and ask that right away. That’s not how you do it. You should’ve given me a chance to say something first.”

  “Oh. It’s you,” she says flatly, like I’m interrupting her during a colossally important meeting.

  “Yeah, it’s me. What were you expecting? A business conference call from China?”

  “I’m going home,” she says.

  “I know. Sorry I can’t pick you up.”

  “That’s okay. I’m glad you finally have a life.”

  I can’t help but roll my eyes. She’s the entirety of my social life, and she should know it.

  I’m about to say something into the phone when a pair of delicate, feminine hands touch my back and wrap around my waist.

  Sophia.

  I almost choke when I feel her chest pressing against me. Again, at an inappropriate moment, my cock stirs.

  Holy hell, is she still naked?

  I look over my shoulder just to find that she’s wearing her shirt from last night although I’m absolutely sure there’s no bra over those plump, juicy tits. God, they feel heavenly.

  “Eli?” Nicole asks, reminding me she’s still on the phone. “Can I go now?”

  “Right. Sorry, I know how busy you are.” I clear my throat, trying to recover. It’s not easy when Sophia’s hands are snaking down front, on their way to the rock-hard cock testing the stretch on my pants.

  “Are you with a girl?” Nicole asks suspiciously.

  “What? No,” I answer, a little too quickly.

  She pauses, then says, “Okay.”

  “Yeah, uh, take care, okay? Stay safe.”

  “Of course.”

  “Love you.” I end the call the way I always do.

  “Love you, too, Eli.” She hangs up.

  I put the receiver down on the landline phone.

  Shit. What do I do now? There
are bound to be some difficult questions coming from Sophia now. Although, judging from the way her hands are still slowly but decidedly heading south, she thinks nothing of what I just said before hanging up.

  “So, how’s your mom?” Sophia asks.

  Of course. She thinks I was talking to my mom.

  “She’s doing well.”

  I can’t keep up this ruse. Technically, I’m not lying because my mom is doing okay, but …

  “Mmm … Good to hear that,” Sophia says, her fingers slipping underneath my shirt and tracing the lines of my abs. “She’s not coming here to clean the place up right now, is she?” She giggles. “I remember that time when we had to sneak out through the back door.”

  Fuck. There’s no escaping it now.

  As much as I want to find out what Sophia plans to do once she reaches the waist of my pants, I can’t keep her in the dark.

  It’s time for some hard, difficult truths.

  I just hope she’ll still look at me the same way when we’re done talking.

  “Sophia.” I grab her wrists and turn around to face her. The evil part of me is cursing at this stupid decision, but I love her too much to think with the wrong head at the moment.

  “What is it? You said we could continue where we left off last night?” Sophia’s full lips spread into the sweetest smile. A playful twinkle flashes in her big, green eyes. “See? I remember. I wasn’t that drunk.”

  I regret the words before they even leave my mouth, but I have to say them out loud. “Sophia, there’s something I have to tell you.”

  Sophia

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” he says, running his fingers through his thick hair like he always does when something is stressing him out.

  “The thing you’re about to tell me, does it have something to do with the bulge in your pants?” I ask, shooting Eli a naughty grin.

  He shakes his head. “No.”

  I don’t like his grim expression. And, I don’t like the words that came out of his mouth. And, I don’t like having yet another thing interrupt us.

  I was so ready to jump his bones last night, and I thought it was actually going to happen. This morning, I woke up ready to spread my legs for him, and I thought he was finally going to fuck me.

  And now, to find out there’s something standing in our way, still? It’s disappointing, to say the least.

  “Sophia?” Eli stares at me, concern etched into the deep lines forming on his forehead.

  I can’t do this. I need more time. More time to pretend everything’s fine between the two of us. That’s what I need … to have sex with him and get him out of my system.

  I need more time. Not serious conversation.

  “Let’s go downstairs.” I take him by the hand and pull him toward the door leading to the basement.

  Eli remains silent as we descend the stairs. But, as I hit the light switch, he asks, “Why are we here?”

  “Why don’t you show me the cellar?” I ask. “You said you had a kick-ass cellar last night.”

  “That’s not really …” Again, Eli combs his hair back with his fingers in frustration. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do right now? There’s something important I need to tell you.”

  “Hmmm …” I cup my chin. “I’m not buying it.”

  “What?”

  “I’m not buying it. I think you’re just trying to hide all your fancy wine from me.”

  “Sophia …” Eli’s thick eyebrows collapse with worry. He lets go of my hand and puts his palms together like he’s begging me to listen. “I’m serious. There’s something you need to know.”

  I’m serious, too. What he doesn’t know is I don’t want to know whatever it is he wants to tell me.

  “All I need to know is what’s inside your cellar.” I try to maintain a steady, carefree voice. But, my body betrays me. A lump appears in my throat as tears prick my eyes.

  I’m not ready for this to end.

  It doesn’t have to be forever, but I don’t want it to end now.

  Eli observes me for a few quiet seconds before he finally nods. “Okay.”

  He takes my hand and leads me toward a door at the end of the basement. I follow behind him, secretly wiping my eyes with the back of my hand when my view of his back grows blurry.

  By the time Eli holds the door to the cellar open, I’ve regained enough composure to squeal with fake excitement as I check out the labels on the bottles of wine resting on the shelves.

  Truth be told, I don’t know much about wine. I don’t care enough about it to differentiate between a ten-dollar bottle and a thousand-dollar bottle.

  The only thing that matters is I hold onto Eli’s hand the whole time we’re in the small, temperature-controlled room.

  I’m not letting go of him before I’m ready this time.

  I waste as much time as I can in the cellar. Then, I look up at Eli. “I’ve been eyeing that pool table since last night. Can we use it?”

  “Sure,” he says, smiling with sad eyes that make me want to cry.

  I look away and lead the way out. “Let’s get out of here.”

  We stay quiet as we pick up our cue sticks. I rub the tip with the blue chalk thingy. From the time Eli first taught me to play, I’ve never actually figured out what it does. But, it’s a good distraction.

  As I arrange the colorful little balls in the wooden triangle, I ask, “Do you want to break the rack?”

  “Sure.”

  I watch Eli bend down and take aim at the pool balls. With his focus on the game, I can watch him to my heart’s content.

  Lines appear on his forehead as he lifts his eyebrows, his gaze sharp. His hands grip the stick firmly and for a moment, I recall the way those same hands yanked me against his body last night, the way they touched me until I lost my mind.

  Eli shouldn’t have been worried about the wine last night. He had a way more dangerous effect on my level of lucidity.

  The white cue ball smashes the rack and sends the other balls crashing against each other and the edges of the pool table. Amid the raucous noises, I watch a ball fall into one of the pocket at the corner of the table.

  I take a sip of the wine as I admire Eli’s strength and precision. The man is good at whatever he chooses to do with his hands. I can see the same level of skill in the beautiful pieces of furniture he shapes with those same hands.

  And when he chooses to direct all that energy toward making me scream out his name in pleasure …

  “Sophia, it’s your turn.” Eli says, snapping me back to the present. He gives me an easy grin—looks like a friendly game of pool is exactly what he needs to relax after all. “You’re stripes.”

  Grabbing my cue stick, I pick my target and take my aim. I don’t have to look his way to know he’s staring at my ass when I bend down. I can feel the heat of his stare; it’s almost like a physical sensation.

  “Do you want me to get some wine from the cellar?” he asks.

  “What, is that a scheme to make me lose this game?” I glance at him and give him a coy smile.

  I’m not drinking today. If that will make Eli hesitate when the time comes for him to spread my legs and sink himself all the way inside me, I won’t do it.

  “What?” Eli arches a thick, dark eyebrow. “I’m not scared of you. I’ve been playing since you were a little girl. I taught you how to play.”

  “Exactly. I learned from the best.” I hit the ball exactly where I wanted to, and it goes into a pocket with a satisfying thock. I twist around the table and hit another ball into a pocket.

  “Not bad,” Eli says.

  If only you were as straightforward as a game of pool, I want to say.

  I miss my next shot.

  “You should’ve hit harder,” Eli says.

  I want you to hit me harder, I instantly think to myself.

  Damn it, just being in Eli’s vicinity is enough to turn my brain into filthy mush. That sentence didn’t even make much sense. I swea
r I’ve never been like this with any other guy.

  “Let me show you how it’s done,” he says.

  It’s my turn to step aside and stare at his cute butt. I’d love to give it a squeeze, preferably while he’s on top of me, thrusting into me while I’m pulling him deeper inside.

  Eli slams two balls into the pockets. Maybe three. I don’t know. I’m not paying much attention to what’s happening on the table.

  The view of Eli’s hard, sculpted body is too distracting. When he leans his body down across the pool table, his checkered flannel shirt drapes closely over him, letting me see the gentle curve of his spine and the muscled bulk of his upper back. As he draws the pool stick back, I stare at the bulging muscles in his arms.

  As Eli straightens his back and stands up to his full height, my eyes roam freely over his physique, thinking he’s too absorbed in the game to notice.

  “Your turn,” he says in his low, velvety voice. A smug smirk forms on his lips. No doubt, he has noticed. And, it looks like he doesn’t mind.

  I grab the stick and watch with satisfaction as his eyes glaze over. I remember that look from the time he gave me lessons that invariably ended with his hard dick pressing against my ass by the pool table. No doubt he’s thinking about some other things around which I could curl my fingers.

  “I want to hit the nine ball into the side pocket. I think I need a little help.” I glance at Eli and give him a small smile. “Want to show me how to do it, teach?”

  Eli gulps visibly, which makes my smile spread a little wider. Despite his protests, I can tell he wants me. So, why is he making this more difficult than it has to be?

  My heart starts pounding as Eli rests one hand on the edge of the pool table. This feels familiar. Seductively familiar. Then, he wraps his other hand over mine on the stick and leans down over my back.

  “You said I needed to do it harder, didn’t you?” I ask softly.

  “You’re standing all wrong,” he says, clearing his throat. “You need to … spread your legs wider.”

  “Why don’t you show me how?”

  Eli reaches down and puts his hands on my hips. The heat from his body penetrates my sweatpants and sears into my skin.