by Owens, C. M.
Fine, then I’ll take… YOU!
“Why is this bothering you?” I tease. “I tell you what, the next time I need something feminine, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
He rolls his eyes while letting a grin free, and he tugs at my side while pulling me to him so he can kiss the top of Trip’s head.
My heart stops. Seeing him show his son affection without knowing he’s his son is enough to make me almost fall apart. I definitely have to tell him.
“I want to talk to you about something later,” he murmurs softly.
“I have something to talk to you about, too,” I almost whisper as our eyes fall prey to each other’s.
Can I do this? Can I tell him?
“I need to do some work, too,” I utter in an attempt to break the stare down.
He follows behind me, and my stomach tightens in knots. I’ve fought the urge to throw myself at him since I got here.
“Trip’s nameless father, does he at least offer financial support?” he asks, a little seriousness and a touch of anger in his tone.
“No, but not because he wouldn’t. I’ve never asked for anything. I make enough to get by just fine. I don’t need anything from him.”
***
Tag
He should be giving her money. What asshole has a kid and doesn’t offer at least some payment to help raise him in his absence?
“You know, Kinset still needs a web design, if you’re interested. It was postponed due to some other projects, but we're getting back to it now. The money would be really, really good.”
She smiles lightly while laying Trip down in his crib.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“Do what? Find an excellent web designer for my latest company?” I ask innocently.
“I’ve seen your various websites for your various companies. It’s obvious you know some very talented designers. I don’t need a handout. I feel bad enough staying here.”
She feels bad about staying here?
“You don’t like it here?” I ask, my tone sounding more wounded than I meant for it to.
“That’s not what I meant. So far, you’ve paid for all the groceries, and you’ve even bought stuff for Trip and me. You haven’t let me give you any money for our staying here, and I prefer to pay my way.”
I take a step toward her, my heart beating furiously in my chest as I brush her hair from her shoulder.
“I’m not taking your money. You’re my guest. Believe it or not, I actually know how to be a gentleman. Besides, you need to worry about other things. Now, about the Kinset account, will you take it - make me an excellent website?”
Her hands slide up to run through her hair as she stares at me, and her bottom lip slides between her teeth.
“Yeah.”
“Great,” I murmur with a smile. “I’ll give you the details when I get back home. In the meantime, feel free to enjoy yourself. I want you comfortable here. I’ll feel bad if you feel bad.”
She smiles while releasing her hair, and I grin when I see a little tattoo sneaking out from her waist as she bends over.
“What the hell is this?” I chuckle out while raising her shirt up to see it better.
She jerks it down, her cheeks blushing, and then she shakes her head.
“I got drunk one night after the wedding, and well… I got a tattoo.”
“Let me see it,” I murmur while trying to move her hand out of my way.
She swats at me while giggling, and I start chasing her as she rushes by me.
“Please stop,” she laughs when I catch her.
My arms slide around her waist as I hold her still, and she struggles uselessly against my clutches.
“I’ll stop when I see it, and I will see it.”
She squeals a little as I pick her up, and she laughs harder as she bucks in my arms.
“You’re not getting free until I see it,” I taunt, my grin burning because it’s so big.
“Please don’t. It’s so stupid.”
My cock hurts it’s so hard right now. I haven’t had sex in so long, and this past week has been brutal. Now I’m holding her, and I want to feel her from the inside so badly it’s painful.
I smile mischievously as I drop her to my bed, and then I hold both of her hands with my one as I flip her over and pull her shirt up.
She bucks violently while squealing and laughing, and I straddle her ass to hold her still enough for me to see. When she bucks again, her ass presses against my erect cock, and my free hand grabs her hip reflexively, accidentally tugging her ass to my center again.
Her breaths stop, her laughter ceases, and then I feel her ass arch as she intentionally presses it against my cock once more.
Keeping her hands held above her head, my free hand slides up her curved ass and feels all of its perfection. She lets out a moan, and that’s my undoing.
I no longer care about the tattoo. I feel her desire for me as her hips grind against me as my hand releases hers to fully grip her hips.
I run my fingers along her denim to her heated center, and she moans again, forcing me to lose my mind for a second as I flip her over to face me.
I stare into those stormy blue eyes, and a tear falls free from her grasp as she stares up at me.
“Please tell me I can touch you,” I murmur softly, as my hand slides up her leg and stops just before I reach the button to her jeans.
“Please tell me you want to,” she utters, and with that, I’m lost.
My lips crush hers as I fall between her legs, and then I pull back to rip her jeans off. She gasps as my hand rubs across her sex, and then her breath leaves as my finger slips through the side of her underwear and finds her hot, wet haven.
***
Ashiara
Is this happening? I’ve dreamt about this for months. Is it real now? Am I just delirious?
His tongue daringly plays with mine as his hard erection begs to be freed from his pants. I rub my hand over the fabric, feeling him as he moans into my mouth.
“I have to have you,” he breathes.
“Then take me,” I mutter back, my heart pounding so hard I’m worried it’s trying to escape.
I want him. I want this torturous game of look-but-don’t-touch to end.
I can be like this. I can handle being his without a commitment. I’ll be his anytime he wants me, and I’ll love him silently when he moves on.
His lips slide down my stomach to the top of my underwear, and then his teeth scrape over me as he peels away the lace with them.
My breaths instantly become pants, and his lips find that spot that has belonged to him since the day I met him. His daring tongue flicks against me, and then the worst possible spoiler blares from the monitor beside his bed.
Trip cries loudly, and we both leap up. I’m left clambering around for my pants as Tag rushes out to go collect the little interrupter.
Once I’m zipped up, I rush in to see Tag smiling as he holds Trip in his arms, cooing him out of his fit. I smile as I lean against the doorframe and watch the father holding his son.
“I think it’s time for a diaper, and unfortunately, I have to get to my meetings. Please tell me we can finish this later,” he strains out with anguish.
I take a deep, steadying breath as I nod.
“Definitely later.”
He smiles as he comes over to me, and his hand wraps around my waist as he pulls my lips to his.
“I think my conversation might go a little better now,” he murmurs against my lips.
He puts Trip in my arms, and then he kisses my smiling lips again before walking away to pick up his tie from the chair.
I watch as he waves, and I force a smile. I don’t know what he plans to say, but I hope he listens to what I have to say without freaking out or hating me.
Chapter Eleven
The Bold Truth
Tag
I can’t stop smiling. She still wants me.
Just as I’m about to leave the of
fice, a detective from Ash’s case steps off the elevator.
“Detective Marks, I wasn’t expecting you,” I murmur in bemusement. “Did you catch the guy?”
“Not exactly. He did break into Ms. Branderwood’s storage facility, and he stole or trashed everything she had. Is she still staying at your place?”
Fuck.
“Yeah. I’m not letting her out of my sight.”
“Here’s the thing. The target is no longer just Ms. Branderwood. We found these,” he says while handing me several photos locked inside evidence bags.
There are pictures of Trip and Ash taken from afar from her old place. Trip’s eyes have been blacked out, his mouth has been burrowed through, and there are crossed-out marks over his body in every picture.
“We also found this,” he uneasily releases while handing me a baby doll inside an evidence bag. The eyes have been gouged, the mouth has been ripped out, and the head is disconnected. The sickening part, he’s wearing a shirt with a picture of Trip.
“Fucking shit,” I release as my hands tremble.
“I know. This guy is beyond fucked up. In cases like these, I have to notify both parents. Ms. Branderwood said I could share anything with you, so I’m hoping you’ll do the same for me.”
“Yeah, of course. What do you need?”
“Well, she’s sort of silent on the matter of the child’s father. It’s possible this guy might be the one doing all this, considering the new target. I went to rundown the name of the father, but I couldn’t find a man in this area by that name. I’m hoping you can help me locate him. If he’s not the suspect, he at least needs to know someone is targeting his kid.”
He knows his name.
“I don’t even know the dad’s name, but I’m sure I can help if you give it to me. Her best friend is on my speed dial. I’m sure he can help.”
My stomach flip-flops. I've wanted to know the name of this bastard for months now.
The detective smiles appreciatively.
“Great, it’s Shannon Pierce.”
I tilt my head curiously, and then I shake it.
“Shannon Pierce isn’t a guy. That’s one of her friends - a girl friend. What’s going on?”
He frowns, and then he makes a note of what I’ve said.
“What’s going on is Ms. Branderwood is hiding something. Whatever it is, it could end up getting her hurt if the father is indeed the suspect. Care if I come over tonight?”
“Yeah, sure," I mutter, now losing the euphoric cloud I was on.
***
Tag
My moment of excitement has been soured now. I was ready to get home to Ash, finish what we started, but now I just want answers.
Why in the hell would she lie to the cops about the father of her child? I realize she’s protecting the bastard, but that’s crossing a line.
The detective follows me down the drive, and Ash is smiling with Trip in her arms when she opens the door to see me. Her moment of happiness ends when her eyes fall on the detective following close on my heels as we both near the door.
“Hey,” she says softly as my arm wraps around her waist. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”
***
Ashiara
“I can’t believe this monster is now after Trip! Who in the fuck is this obsessed with me?” I whimper, and Tag holds me to his body as I restrain my tears, happy they're not cascading down my cheeks.
Trip is lying in his pin, sleeping peacefully, unaware of the madman out there after us both.
“Ms. Branderwood, about the person you told us was your child’s father, we know that’s your friend—your female friend.”
I swallow hard, and Tag’s grip tightens on me.
Please not in front of him.
“I’m sorry. At the time, I just panicked. I didn’t want him involved.”
“Is he a violent person?” the detective asks.
“No, of course not. He’s a great guy.”
“A great guy?” Tag scoffs. “A great guy would be here for his son. A great guy would be here for you.”
Exactly. He’s a great guy, dumbass.
The detective clears his throat a little when he senses Tag’s anger on the matter, and then he turns back to me.
“It’s possible he could be the suspect. We need to find him. At the very least, he should know what’s going on.”
“He’s not your suspect,” I quickly object. “And he’s perfectly aware of the situation.”
“And he’s still not here?” Tag snarks. “Yeah. Great guy.”
I roll my eyes, and then I see the detective not impressed or pleased with my answer.
“I need to speak with him, Ms. Branderwood. I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to give me his true identity.”
“If this is about the guy who attacked me, he was short. I told you that. He’s very short. Trip’s dad is incredibly tall.”
“Ms. Branderwood, please don’t make me ask you again,” the detective mumbles, exasperated.
“I can’t. I can’t right now. It’s not him, and I promise he’s aware of the situation surrounding his son.”
He tightens his lips, and then he tilts his head as he stares at Tag. I get sick as his mind wraps around the thing Tag hasn’t figured out. He purses his lips, and then he walks over to stare down at my son.
“He doesn’t look much like you, Ms. Branderwood. I see a striking resemblance to someone else I’ve spoken to though.”
Tag whips his head around, and then he rushes over to stare at Trip alongside the detective. I almost feel dizzy. I’m so sick right now. This isn’t how I wanted him to find out.
“Who?” Tag demands.
The detective shakes his head and returns to me.
“Is there any reason for you to fear his father at all?”
“Absolutely not, and I think you know that, Detective,” I grumble while my hands shake.
“Then why not tell him?”
“Because… because he didn’t want to be a dad.”
“Who the hell is it?” Tag almost blares, making Trip whimper.
He quickly turns around and scoops him up to soothe him, making Trip’s sleepy eyes close again.
“It looks like things have changed, Ms. Branderwood,” the detective sighs, and Tag’s eyes widen in disbelief.
He looks stunned, and tears teeter on the edge of his lids as he stares at me with judgmental, icy blues.
“He’s mine? This whole fucking time you’ve been lying to me?” he hoarsely releases.
***
Tag
How could she?
She’s sitting there, fighting back her tears as she lowers her shameful eyes to the floor. This whole time I’ve been right here, and yet she didn’t tell me. I was on the verge of telling her I love her, and yet she kept my son a secret.
“Why?” I prompt.
“You know why, Tag. Don’t act like being a father was on your to-do list,” she whimpers, her eyes still not meeting mine.
“Not on my to-do list?” I almost whisper in disbelief as I cradle my son to my chest. “Ash, do you think that little of me?”
Her eyes finally look up, the tears dripping in streaks as she shakes her head.
“No, I think that much of you. You would have stopped everything. You would have given me money, possibly even tried to be with me for the sake of the child you helped create. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to try to push you away because I knew I couldn’t. I couldn’t let you feel guilty for something you didn’t mean to do. I’m in… I’m sorry, but I couldn’t take it.”
“You didn’t have that right,” I scold, my own tears threatening to drip. “I missed the entire pregnancy. I missed the sonograms, the doctor visits, the damn birth of my son. I missed the first three weeks of his life, and I would have missed all of it if it had been up to you. How could you do that to me?”
She looks away, and then she stares at her hands as she almost whispers, “Either you hated me beca
use you knew, or you hated me because you didn’t. I thought I was helping you. I’m sorry.”
I can’t even look at her right now. I can’t believe she could do this to me.
“When you find this guy, tell me he’s going to jail for a while,” I growl to the forgotten detective.
“We should be able to get him for attempted murder, thanks to the gunshot he delivered against Ms. Branderwood. We’ll be assigning a protective unit to you. Where will your son be staying?”
My son.
“We’ll go to Melanie's,” Ash says while fighting off more tears.
“Not a chance,” I snap. “I think you’ve kept him from me long enough. You can go if you want, but he’s staying here.”
Her thick tears fall harder as she looks up at me with those stormy eyes stinging with pain.
“I can’t leave my son, Tag.”
“Then you know how I feel. You can keep your room. He’s not going anywhere. In fact, there’s a lot of shit that will change. Starting with where he sleeps. You had four weeks, I get four weeks. I’ll get his crib tonight.”
The detective stands, and his lips tighten as he makes his way past the sobbing girl and toward me.
“Can we talk outside, Mr. Masters?”
I nod, my jaw clenching as I stare at the girl I once thought had betrayed me in a completely different way.
I follow him out the door while still holding Trip, and he sighs as he turns to face me.
“I realize this is a really big bomb to have dropped on you. While I don’t agree with what Ms. Branderwood did, I understand what she thought she was doing. It’s not my place to offer advice, but she’s going through hell right now. She’s locked up, her child is in danger, and she’s scared out of her mind. If you take out all of your anger on her, she’s just going to have one more thing to worry about.”
“If she didn’t want me angry, she should have told me he was my son the day she found out she was pregnant,” I almost hiss.
His lips tighten again, and then he turns to walk toward his car.
“I’ll be in touch, Mr. Masters.”