by Dance, Candy
The creamy firm softness of her ass in his hands roared through him, and then he had her back against the wall where he could get both his hands on it. His groping, and her mad undulations, rubbed her heated mound against his hard erection, while her big breasts rolled across his chest, and they wildly tongued each other.
He hadn’t notice, because he was so drunk on her mouth, that her hands were at his shirt, and then she ripped it open. Her mouth tore away from his and she bit his upper pectoral with hot lips, while his teeth grazed the curve of her neck. They were both panting and grinding against each other.
Ten wild, crazy, and delirious minutes later he had her on the tip of his cock ready to plunge forward. She was pressed against the wall, wildly trying to impale herself on his bare cock, as he held her from doing so, while his mouth burned, because they were kissing so hotly. But a demon inside of him wanted her to know he was taking her bareback and going to put his seed deep inside her.
Maybe it was revenge, but it always felt this way with her. She brought out something primal in him.
He tore his mouth away from their feverish kisses, and he sharply growled, “Eyes. Let me see your fucking eyes, boo.”
She clawed the back of his neck, fighting his grip on her hips, which were holding her back from his steely thick cock arched up towards her with the head kissing her slick entrance.
“Beck,” she careened passionately, demanding him, demanding his thrust.
“You fucking want my cock, boo. You look at me and you take it. You don’t stop looking,” he said harshly, with his lust barely under control.
“Yes!” she cried, locking her gaze on his as he thrust upward.
Her black eyes spun hotter, then they blazed with the connection, while he groaned harshly and barely kept his gaze locked on hers. Her moan was needy and loud as he started fucking her up against the wall with their naked bodies gathering perspiration and sliding against each other.
Then her hand shot between them and she started frantically rubbing her clit.
“That’s it, baby, make yourself come on my cock,” he uttered roughly.
She moaned high sounds with her tightness rippling over him and their gazes showing every filling and hard thrust. Suddenly, she screamed and her inner walls clenched his thrusting cock as he rocked harder and faster up into her, while she climaxed against him.
He lived for the sound of her climaxes harsh against his ear.
***
I was still climaxing on the heavy, hard width of Beck’s cock when he took me to the bed for a new position. The one time we’d made love had not been nearly as crazy, wild, and intense, but I did remember Beck and his positions.
What woman wouldn’t, when a man did her three or four different ways before he allowed himself release. I loved him, I always had and I didn’t want to think about him only for his incredible sexual prowess, but I had to admit it made me desire the hell out of him even more.
He was so strong and powerful when he was aroused, he was like a force of nature all over me, and he seemed to think women should have multiple, multiple orgasms.
It wasn’t like I had a choice, because there was never a break in the intensity where I could try to slow things down, even if I wanted to. And this time we were like two forces of nature exploding against each other—there was no stopping us.
Beck dropped me off his cock and onto the bed, still climaxing, and then he climbed over me as I lay on my side. He reinserted himself slow, hard, and very deep. My harsh moan proved how full and deep he was.
“Curl your legs up,” he ordered, as I grabbed the rock-hard mound of his upper arm, which was locked, and then he started slowly fucking me as I lay sideways on the bed.
My pussy was so sensitive with the climax barely gone and Beck’s thickness filled me so completely, it started igniting it again. He leaned on one arm to grasp my breast and tweaked the nipple, which seem to connect directly to my pussy, and made me greedily humped back on him.
“Beck, Beck,” I gasped.
“Fuck,” he growled, and he started thrusting faster, until his abdomen and my behind were slapping together.
I climaxed in that position less than five minutes later, with my cries unraveling. Still shuddering and gasping, Beck turned me onto my belly and he pulled me to the end of the bed. He stood over me to fuck me through to another climax moments later. That’s when he finally let loose and he groaned, until I felt his hot seed start to fill me.
I’d been so crazy with passion, it hadn’t occurred to me— “Pull out,” I cried, reaching back to slap his hip.
“No,” he snarled, and he slammed into me again, and I felt more of his hot come burst inside me. So much of it, it began slicking down my inner thighs.
“Why,” I cried, as he stayed buried as deep inside me as he could go, and then he dropped his upper body over mine, until his hot breath was near my ear. “I’m not on the pill!” I hissed.
“Maybe there will be two babies, I’ll take from you in court,” he growled.
Beck pulled out of me after those cruel words, and he left me laying over the end of the bed with his come dripping slowly down my inner thighs.
He’s making me pay, I thought. He hadn’t meant it; he hadn’t got carried away with attraction for me like I had for him. He was just making me pay.
After that, Beck’s hooded gaze watched me get up naked and go to the bathroom to clean up. He’d pulled on his unzipped jeans and sat sprawled in a chair.
I couldn’t find my thong, but I wasn’t about to ask him. In his bathroom mirror, I looked like a slut that had just been fucked, and I couldn’t believe this side of Beck. I’d thought I knew him well enough, but the Beck I knew would never have done this.
Maybe I was so appalled at my own behavior that I didn’t know what to say, because normally I would stand up to Beck and argue with him. But this time I was devastated that the passion had only been one-sided.
So instead of being smart and trying to figure out what was going on, I came out of the bathroom, grabbed my purse, and yelled at him, “I hate you!”
Then I stormed out of the room.
Chapter Six
After that I didn’t see Beck for a week, while I worried myself crazy over when I’d get summoned to court. It was hard to go back to work and concentrate, but I had to make a living.
Then, I was driving up to my house on Friday night, at the end of the work week, when I saw a motorcycle sitting in the dusk in my driveway. I could barely make out a large leather-clad man leaning against the motorcycle.
When my headlights hit the figure, I saw it was Beck and my heart leaped and clenched in alternate beats. I looked back at Bartie in the back seat—I had just picked him up from the sitters and as usual with car rides he was dozing.
I couldn’t imagine what it meant seeing Beck before hearing from his lawyers, but God did he have to look so hot. His bad boy biker look instantly made my girlie parts tingle.
I left Bart in the car as I got out and looked over the hood of my SUV at Beck.
“I want to see Bart,” he said, without preamble. He didn’t sound mad exactly, and stupid parts of me were excited Bart’s dad wanted to see him. God, I made no sense whatsoever.
“I’m not sure it would be wise of me to let the man who is trying to take him away from me do that,” I said, as evenly as I could.
Beck straightened from his motorcycle, but he didn’t come closer.
“Is that any worse than keeping a man’s baby from him?” he asked. I flinched, and started to speak from a place that hurt so bad. But Beck held up his hand. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I have anger issues about that I’m still working through.”
I worried my teeth over my bottom lip ... he had a right to have anger issues about what I had done, still after that scene in his hotel room—
“Look, Millie, you hate me now so we don’t have to worry about the brother and sister attraction and getting together thing any longer, and if we
can just come to a visitation agreement, I don’t really want to take you to court.”
My heartbeat was slamming against my chest as he spoke, and nothing he said relieved it, but I had to do what was best for Bart.
Still, I couldn’t help the broken part of me from whispering, “What if there is another baby.”
I saw Beck’s intensity, before he uttered, “Then I’ll help take care of both of them.”
“Wow.” I hadn’t really meant for that to come out of my mouth, but it seemed Beck was willing to go to extraordinary lengths to be a part of his son’s life.
“I know I’m an ass, Millie, and I swear I will work through it. You know me well enough; you know my word is good.”
So that was how I warily let Beck into my house to have dinner with us and then I watched as Beck fed Bart, gave him a bath, changed his diapers, and played with him until he put him to bed. I was probably an idiot for allowing it after what Beck did to us, but he was right, I did know him well enough.
As I watched him with Bart, I started to remember how well I did know my stepbrother and I realized he might threaten me during the times I became unreasonable, but in reality he would never take me to court. And I realized it had been his anger talking.
We were standing over Bart’s crib with Beck tucking him in, Bart had just fallen asleep, when I took total advantage of the situation, and I whispered, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t have to accept it, but I have to say it to you.”
Beck’s compelling gray eyes looked over at me; he’d been good company to Bart and to me. He’d been civil and reserved. “Some day when I’m ready to hear it, can you tell me why,” he asked quietly.
That so tugged at my heart, I nodded, and whispered back, “I can try.”
At the door, letting Beck out shortly after, he turned to me and said, “In this town no one knows us—I’m his dad.”
Then he disappeared into the darkness and my heart actually hurt. It looked like Bart was getting a reprieve—but I wasn’t, because I had ruined any chance I ever had with Beck.
***
I was very glad that Beck took it slow with us for the next couple weeks. He’d come by in the evenings, not every one, but he’d insist I go do things that I needed to get done, while he totally took care of Bart. And Bart couldn’t have been happier, because Beck got the boy stuff better than I did, so there were the craziest noises that would come from Bart’s room when the two of them were playing, with Bart’s giggles following.
I’d just shake my head and work on my designs, while trying very hard to not be attracted to Beck. Every time he’d come over, I would give myself stern inner lectures about how he and I could do this, and it was time to grow up and move past our younger crushes.
Unfortunately, every single night afterward, I’d lie in bed trying to go to sleep with my body humming with arousal that would not leave me alone, until I had gotten my vibrator out with images of Beck haunting me. I worried over how badly he’d used me ... and what kind of person that made me, to still be so attracted to him.
But most of the time I was successful in hiding it, and Beck acted as if he’d gotten his attraction to me sated that fateful morning I had visited him in his hotel suite, and now he was past lusting after me.
“I got this for you,” Beck said, as he was putting on his leather jacket to leave that night. “Just let me know.” He nodded to the brown paper sack that had me curious. Then he blew me away. “I’d like you to think about letting me babysit Bart when you work. Just think about it, we can talk later.” He’d said it at the door, and then he was gone.
“Hell,” I exclaimed, because I was alone and I could. “This stuff never gets easier.”
Then, because I was dying to know, I went to the brown sack and opened it. That’s when my world tilted sideways and I had to grab the counter. Inside was a pregnancy test.
I stood there trying to breathe for a little while, then once I got over my shock, I tried to reason out Beck’s actions. The only thing I could come up with was he was apologizing through his actions. No words—he was just doing it.
“I kind of wished he would say the words though,” I muttered.
I needed to be sure I was right.
Chapter Seven
Beck was pushing Bart in his stroller out of the lobby of his hotel, after Millie had started letting him take Bart during the day, when he ran into someone he knew.
“Damn, is that you, Beck?” a big quarterback-looking guy said out front. The guy looked like he’d been getting into a cab.
Bart was fussing for his bottle that he’d dropped so Beck only glanced at the guy.
“Yeah, I’m Beck,” he muttered, digging Bart’s bottle out of the folds of his blanket and handing it to him. Then Beck straightened and looked at the man. “James, hell, is that you?”
“Yeah, man,” James said, then he bent and told the cab driver to look for another fare.
Beck pushed Bart over to James and they shook hands. They knew each other from school. “Man, were the rumors about you and Tracy Taylor true?” James asked looking down at Bart.
“Rumors?” Beck asked, with a raised eyebrow.
James gave him a schoolboy smirk as he gestured at Bart. “Rumors that you had a baby with her.”
Beck was shocked. “Hell no.”
“It was all over the Autumn Festival and Dance. Tracy even confronted your sister about where was the father of her baby, yada, yada,” James said, with a speculating gaze looking down at Bart. “Your sister was crying, and she ran out.”
Beck cursed silently, he had dated Tracy for maybe one outing to a party or something. But he’d found out she was a self-centered woman and he’d never asked her out again. He certainly never touched her and he’d damn well never gotten her pregnant.
Besides at the time he’d still been sinfully lusting after his stepsister big time, and they’d finally hooked up.
Beck’s mind started placing dates, and he frowned, but to James he emphatically said, “This is not Tracy’s baby.”
“Okay, man,” James said, holding up his hands.
He looked as if he was going to get into whose baby it was, and Beck glared at him. So then James wisely started a new conversation.
“Man, I heard you sold that damn company you were working on all the time. While your head was in that, I got picked up by the pros, but drop from that team after an ASL injury. Now, I’m looking around for a new team, keeping my options open.”
Beck held his smirk back, thinking that meant his old friend was having a hard time finding a new pro team to take him. Next came what Beck was finding out was becoming inevitable, since he’d worked very hard and made money doing it—friends or relatives asking him for money to invest or basically outright asking for it, like his stepmom had done that morning on the phone.
Beck tried to be polite blowing James and his money request off, but he still wished him well. Like he’d done with Phyllis that morning, who had wanted a million dollars so she and Murray could really start over, she’d said.
As if that was his responsibility, Beck thought, pushing Bart’s stroller to the nearby park. In fact, as he sat on a bench by the play area, deciding where he and Bart were going to start playing first, he realized about the only person that hadn’t hit him up for money was Millie.
Beck picked Bart up out of his stroller and he put him on his knee to look out at the play area filling with kids on a sunny morning. Right then Millie was working her butt off, and she’d never once tried to swindle him for money over Bart like she could have or definitely as some women would have.
But he knew his stepsister wasn’t like that, and now he wondered if she’d had more of a legit reason than only plain cowardice to run off with his son without telling him. Millie had never mentioned the Tracy thing to him ... ever.
After he and Bart had played most of the morning, with three young mothers on the playground coming onto him in the process, Beck had a wayward thought that would not
leave him alone.
So without thinking it through, which seemed to be his non-work mode he was discovering, he took Bart, who was comfortably worn out sucking on his bottle, and he headed to his rental car in the hotel garage.
On the way, he and Bart picked up a bag of food from the deli. Once he had Bart in his car seat, Beck typed an address into his GPS, which he’d just happened to hear that morning when he’d picked Bart up at Millie’s.
While he’d been getting Bart ready that morning, Millie had been on the phone and he’d been eavesdropping, so now he was satisfied to see Millie’s car in the driveway of a huge upper scale home as he pulled up to the curb and parked. Beck got out and rounded the car to get Bart and the sack from the deli.
“Come on, buddy, let’s go surprise your mommy,” Beck said.
He lifted Bart up, who caught his shirt and helped with a tug, while making sounds around the nipple on the bottle he was chewing, which sounded suspiciously like “mommy.”
“Did you say mommy, buddy?” Beck asked him, as he walked up to the open front door.
Bart just grinned at him and dribbled down his chin. There were workmen bringing in pieces of furniture out of a loading van that he followed inside. Then there was a pixie looking young woman that burst energetically in front of them from a side room, and she exclaimed to someone in the room behind her.
“I’ll make sure they get that in the right bedroom, boss!”
The petite woman barely glanced at them as she hurried up the grand staircase leading off the foyer, while Beck went to find “the boss.” He found her in a room she was setting up to be what looked like the formal living room.
She was bent over as if she was doing a weird yoga pose. Beck’s eyes lingered with appreciation on the curves of the nice womanly behind facing him, and he remembered holding those bare cheeks in his hands, while she had—
Bart gurgled a couple loud baby sounds, and Millie shot upright from adjusting a multicolored patterned rug, with her blond hair flying.