Don't Take My Baby (Twisted Ghosts MC)

by Zoey Parker

  I nodded. “Right,” I said, trying to maintain my tough-guy act. “Well, have you ever seen them before?”

  Isabella shook her tousled blonde head. “No.” She squinted at me. “Zane, do you know something I don’t? Why would they want to do you in?”

  I stared at her blankly. Right now was the big moment. I could tell her everything. I could tell her about her father, Gianni, and about me. I could tell her what I really did for a living, where all of the money came from. Where my Porsche came from. Where the silk sheets that were so tantalizingly wrapped around her body came from. But the moment passed. Isabella yawned and I watched her delicate, vulnerable throat bunch up with the force of her yawn. Whatever tender thing had sprouted to life inside of me died abruptly. The less she knows the better. I can protect her better if she doesn’t know what she’s hiding. After all, I still had this big coke deal to pull off. I figured I could tell her everything afterwards, if she was still around. She’ll just have to deal with not knowing.

  “Wanna grab some dinner?”

  Isabella looked at me. “Sure,” she said softly. “Can you answer my question first?”

  I shrugged. “I got no fuckin’ idea why they would want to do me in, honey. But I can tell you’re starving. What do you think about some pizza?”

  Isabella nodded. A grateful look washed over her face. It only made my anxiety worse. She was obviously relieved that I didn’t have anything to do with the guys who had tried to kidnap her. A knot formed in my stomach when I realized how upset she would be at learning the truth. Even though I knew it was for her own good, I didn’t feel great about lying to her. Isabella wasn’t like most of the other girls I slept around with. She was smart, caring. Even if she was a little clingy, she wasn’t stupid.

  “Get dressed.” I jerked my head towards the bedroom door. “I’ll order a pie.”

  Isabella climbed out of bed and I had to work to keep my jaw from dropping. She was stacked. She’d always had a great rack, but now they seemed almost twice as big. I grinned and Isabella blushed when she caught me watching her.

  “What?”

  “You look so fuckin’ hot,” I told her. “I’m tempted to throw you back into bed.”

  Isabella actually smiled. “Please, no,” she said in mock-helplessness. “I couldn’t handle that! No more!” She winked at me. “I’m so sore, Zane.”

  I grinned. “You’re gonna be so sore you won’t be able to walk for a week when I’m done with you, baby.”

  Isabella crossed the room and pulled her shirt over her head. She winced as the fabric tugged over her breasts. “I’m already sore,” she whined. She looked at me with a hopeful expression on her face. “Pizza?”

  I laughed. “You’re adorable,” I told her. “And yeah, I’ll call a pizza. What do you want on yours?”

  She flopped back down on the bed. The hem of her shirt barely covered her ass and I felt my cock twitch as I watched her soft curves recline on the silk sheets. I was filled with the intense desire to pin her on her back, yank her panties down with my teeth and bury my face between her legs until she was sobbing with pleasure. I loved the way she tasted and I wanted to feel her juices running down my face again.

  “Veggies,” Isabella said.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Come on, I’m not on a fuckin’ diet, honey. We’re getting pepperoni, mushrooms, and sausage. I can’t eat a pizza with green shit on it.”

  I expected Isabella to argue but she actually smiled. “That sounds really good,” she admitted. “I’ll have that, too.”

  I turned away from her as I yanked my pants up over my hips and reached for the phone. I had a good place on speed dial that was only a few miles away from the house. By the time I’d ordered dinner, Isabella had reclined back on the bed and she was making eyes at me. Even though I’d been hit with a tsunami of lust just a few minutes ago, there was something about the situation that seemed off to me. As much as I didn’t mind lying to almost everyone else, there was something unsettling about lying to Isabella. Or rather, keeping her own past from her. I shivered. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to grow up without a father, only to find out that Daddy Dearest was a Mafioso. After all, Gianni had been second-in-command to Lionel for years and years. Gianni had been a trusted friend, like family. And Isabella had no idea what she was involved in. I watched her lean back and sigh. The gold locket caught in her cleavage, drowning in flesh.

  “Come on, downstairs,” I snapped. “I don’t eat in bed. I’m not a fuckin’ pig.”

  Isabella pouted but she obligingly got up and tugged on jeans. “I’m so tired,” she complained. “I feel like I’ve been on my feet for weeks.”

  I stared at her. There was something different about her, all right. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like something had happened in the few weeks we hadn’t been in touch. Maybe she’d been with someone else; maybe something else had happened. But she seemed a little more reserved, and grateful to be around me. I shook my head. I’d fucked up girls before by not calling. Isabella had seemed more stable than that. I wondered what had happened.

  We walked downstairs in silence. I grabbed a beer for myself from the fridge. “Want one?” I grinned at Isabella. “You’re cute when you drink.”

  She shook her head. “Just water for me, thanks,” she added. “I’ll get it, that’s okay.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Just sit down. I’ll bring you a glass.”

  Isabella blushed again and lowered herself into one of my wooden kitchen chairs. She pulled a flyer from the table towards her and frowned at it. “What is this?”

  “Some shit with my friend Jake,” I said, sliding a glass of ice water across the table towards Isabella. “Some car show shit.” I knew exactly what it was: another chance for me to meet the Russians who were going to be instrumental in our coke deal. But there was no way I’d tell Isabella that.

  “Are you into cars?” Isabella looked at me with her head to the side. “I mean, I know you like your Porsche. But these are mostly older.”

  I shook my head. “I’m not obsessed with them,” I said slowly. “Why?”

  Isabella shrugged. She gave me a weird little smile and then hid her mouth with her hand. “I dunno,” she replied. “Just trying to get a sense of who you are.”

  Before I could ask why, the doorbell rang. I dug around in my pockets for some crumpled bills. I didn’t have anything smaller than a fifty. Isabella gasped when she saw the bills in my hand.

  “I had an outing planned to Silk Aria,” I lied, referencing one of the bigger strip clubs outside of Morris. “But then I ran into you again…”

  Isabella blushed red. I knew she wouldn’t dare ask me about what I was planning on doing at a strip club. She wanted to seem too chill and cool to be jealous of strippers. When I brought the pizza back over to the table, Isabella had the lid flipped open and a slice in her hand before I could even sit down.

  “This is amazing,” she gushed. “I was so hungry. Thanks, Zane.”

  I watched as she gobbled down two slices. The way she was eating made me think she wasn’t getting enough at home. I frowned. She was still working. Why was she so hard up for money? Another little prick of guilt hit me. If I told her the truth, she’d be taken care of for the rest of her life. She wouldn’t have to wait around for guys like me to buy her dinner.

  As if reading my mind, Isabella looked up at me from the middle of her third slice. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I know I’m eating like a pig. I’m just so hungry for some reason.”

  Chapter 11

  Isabella

  After Zane and I had our late dinner, I couldn’t stop yawning. He suggested we put on a movie and I agreed, but ten minutes in I was falling asleep. Between the shock of discovering my pregnancy and almost being kidnapped at work, I’d had a crazy day. I thought I could have probably slept for days inside Zane’s comfortable, silken bed.

  “You wanna go to bed?” Zane raised his eyebrows at me suggestively.

 
A weak pulse of desire hit my lower belly and I blushed. “Yeah, but I’m exhausted,” I said. “I’m sorry. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

  Zane snorted. “Fuckin’ nonsense,” he said. “You’re sleeping in the bed. And don’t worry about it. I’m spent.”

  He got up from the couch and brought the pizza box and my empty glass of water back into the kitchen. I couldn’t believe how much I’d eaten; my appetite felt like it was never-ending. I looked down at the slight pooch in my lower belly, wondering unhappily if I’d be that hungry throughout my entire pregnancy. My mom had always been overweight after she’d had me. I was nervous I’d get fat and wouldn’t be able to lose it. Zane won’t like the way I look if that happens, I thought to myself. Staring at him, I realized I barely knew anything about him at all. I didn’t know what he really thought about me, or women in general. And I definitely didn’t know what he thought about what was really happening. Was I danger? Was that why he was spending more time with me?

  I snorted. Well, it can’t be because he really likes you, I thought glumly. Remember how he tossed you out without a second word last time?

  “Come on,” Zane said. “Let’s go to bed.”

  I blinked and realized I was dawdling at the foot of the stairs. As we climbed together, my heart started beating uncommonly fast in my chest. I realized I was nervous about what would happen when we were back in his bedroom. Zane reached for me the minute the door was closed. I winced, expecting him to grab me and throw me down on the bed. But instead, he turned me around and unzipped my blouse.

  “You want a shirt or something?” He walked over to his dressed and pulled out a clean, white T-shirt. “I keep the air cold at night; you don’t want to get cold.”

  I blinked. “Thanks,” I said softly. “Yeah, I’ll take that.” My breasts were aching, sore and swollen, and I dreaded the idea of spending a night without a bra. But I didn’t want Zane to know. There seemed to be an important reason for not telling him. Mostly, I just wanted to know what was going on. He was acting strangely, perhaps even more strangely than I was acting. And I wanted to get to the bottom of this as soon as I could.

  Pulling the soft shirt over my head, I climbed into bed. Zane watched me as he stripped out of his jeans. My mouth went dry at the sight of his muscular body. Even though I was incredibly sore and not feeling too aroused, I still felt a thump of lust between my legs. He looked amazingly, unbelievably good. He always did.

  “Come on,” Zane said. “Let’s go to sleep.” He walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in, dimming the lights.

  I could smell him and feel him near but I knew he was staying as far away from me as possible. Suddenly, a feeling like loneliness welled up inside of me. This was exactly what I’d wanted to happen for the past eight weeks, but now that it was happening I didn’t feel any better than I did when I was on my own.

  “Good night,” I said softly.

  Zane didn’t reply; instead, he shifted onto his side and pulled a pillow over his head. I rolled away from him so I was facing the wall instead of his tattooed back. In the semi-dark, I could almost make out some of the shapes that had been inked into his skin. But I didn’t want to think about him anymore. I wanted to close my eyes and drift off into a powerful sleep.

  “Isabella,” Zane said with a grin. “I love you. I’ve been waiting for you my whole life.”

  I blinked. “Really? Are you sure?” I looked down. “I’m embarrassed to think you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

  Zane scowled. “Isabella, c’mon. I’m not used to chicks. I’m not used to…feelings.” He reached out and pulled me close, sending shivers down my spine. “Kiss me,” he said in a low voice.

  As he wrapped his hand around the back of my head and pulled me close, I moaned softly before our lips met. His lips were hot and soft as petals. I closed my eyes as he slipped his tongue between my lips and nibbled on my lower lip. I felt like my pussy was exploding in a frenzy of desire; the longer the kiss went on, the better I felt. He slid his hands down my body and pulled the thin material of the T-shirt over my head. When his lips met my swollen, aching nipples it felt like heaven. I threw my head back and moaned loudly as his wet, rough tongue caressed my sensitive skin. Zane cupped my breasts in his hands, gently squeezing them. Pleasure burst through my body in a radiant, white-hot streak of light. I’d never felt this good in my whole life. It felt like every cell, every nerve ending, was being loved on by Zane.

  “I love you, Isabella,” Zane said in a throaty voice. He reached between my legs and rubbed at my clit with his thumb.

  I gasped and tried to push him away — the sensation was almost too much to bear. But he kept his hand firmly in place and worked the fingers around my clit until I was sobbing and gasping with pleasure into his neck. He didn’t pull his hand away until after the shocks and pulses from my orgasm had subsided. The mood between us changed, become more tender somehow. As we kissed passionately, he gently pushed me down on my back and spread my legs. He broke the kiss and began moving down my body, kissing and licking every inch of exposed skin with his warm, generous mouth. I felt the stubble from his chin scratch my bare belly, sending shivers down my spine, and I shrieked.

  “What are you doing?” I moaned loudly, even though part of me knew.

  “I’m going to please you now,” Zane said softly. He slipped a finger inside my pussy and wriggled it around as his mouth fastened on my labia and began to suck.

  I could feel how wet and slippery my arousal had made me and I clenched my muscles and bucked my hips against his face. His mouth had found my clit and even though I was still too tender from coming only a few seconds ago, the discomfort melted into a warm pleasure. Zane slipped another finger inside of me and began to beckon slowly, moving his hand in rhythm with his mouth until my hands were buried in his hair and I was screaming loudly. I couldn’t believe he was pleasing me like this. No one, not even Kyle had managed to bring me such intense, orgasmic arousal. When I was around Zane, all I wanted to do was fuck and fuck and fuck.

  “Roll over on your belly,” Zane grunted.

  I moaned. “Don’t stop. Please, please don’t stop.” I had a feeling that if Zane rolled me over, I’d get sick and all of this would be ruined. I could practically feel the bile rising in my throat as Zane pulled his hands away from me and gestured for me to roll over.

  “Roll over,” Zane commanded. His dark eyes flashed fire at me. “Now, Isabella.”

  “I’m going to be sick,” I managed to utter. Suddenly, nausea consumed me more than ever. I had to make it to the bathroom, and soon. My throat was convulsing and bile spewed into my mouth. I kept my lips locked firmly shut.

  “Roll over,” Zane commanded again. He reached out and smacked my ass. “Do it, Isabella.”

  “I can’t,” I managed to cry out. “I’m going to be sick!”

  I woke up from the dream in a frenzy. My skin was covered in sweat and my heart was racing. As I lay in bed, I tried to calm myself. Zane was snoring next to me, and for some reason, my stomach was still roiling. Shit. No. Not now. Not here. I tried to will away the nausea, but it got stronger with each passing second. Before I knew what I was doing, I bolted out of bed and ran over to the bathroom, blindly groping for the door. I barely had the knob closed before the first gush of bile and half-digested pizza spewed from my mouth. I found my way over to the toilet and flipped the lid up, leaning over and vomiting over and over again. I could feel my lips cracking from the effort of it all and my eyes watered bitterly, sending tears falling down my cheeks.

  “God damn it,” I mumbled when I was finished. The bathroom was a mess. Zane’s shirt that he’d lent me was ruined. I pulled the foul-smelling rag over my head and tossed it on the floor. Gritting my teeth and holding my nose against the smell, I used the shirt to mop up the vomit around the toilet and closer to the door. Finally, the ground was clean but the air still smelled like puke. Just the scent was enough to turn my stomach and I leaned ove
r the toilet and dry-heaved. There was nothing left in my stomach, but the nausea was relentless.

  Finally, I managed to clean up the whole bathroom. I threw Zane’s shirt in the trash and covered it with a small mountain of toilet paper. Then I hopped in the shower and washed my face, neck, and arms. There was still a slightly sour smell emanating from my skin, but I couldn’t get rid of it. Even Zane’s perfumed soap didn’t do the trick. I smelled like a nightclub at the end of a singles’ dance.

  Taking a deep breath, I clicked out the bathroom lights and opened the door.

  Zane was sitting on the bed, staring at me in shock. “What the hell was that?” he demanded loudly. “What the fuck happened, Isabella?”

  I blushed deeply. “I’m fine,” I lied. “It was just nerves. And all of that pizza. You know I ate too much. Everything that happened today must have wiped me out.”

  Zane shook his head. He looked over my naked frame carefully and a strange look came over his eyes. Just as I was about to protest, he stood up from bed and held a hand up in the air. “Don’t say anything,” he said quickly. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “Just sit down and don’t go anywhere until I come back, okay?”