by Melissa Blue
“Sorry. I screamed.”
“Forgiven.” He blew out a breath right in her neck.
She laughed again, feeling like her old self. “If you need more than a minute I can get a snack.”
“Say my name again.” He shifted his hips back and forth.
All the things he could have asked for, that was an odd request. “Porter?”
“No.” He nipped the corner of her mouth then met her gaze. “Moan it.”
Oh. She turned her head so her mouth was closer to his ear and purred, “Porter.” Then she had to laugh. “Seriously?”
His teeth sank into her shoulder. “Told you. Round one. Grab the headboard again.”
He didn’t offer a ‘please’ or room for argument. She didn’t mind him being bossy at the moment. Not one bit.
Derek + Stiles
Porter turned from the microwave at the soft laughter coming from the nook. Iris’s hair bunched on one side, her lips were kiss-swollen, and she hadn’t bothered to put on pants or underwear. She leaned her elbows against the counter, her palms propping up her chin as her attention remained on him.
Or rather, his bare ass.
She hummed. “This reminds me of the scene from Baby Boy when Ving Rhames is naked and cooking in the kitchen. I think I played that scene in slow motion so many times I went through puberty in an afternoon.”
He wanted to laugh, but a pit dug into his stomach. “I hated that movie.”
“Why?”
“Jody was filled with excuses.” He could guess what she was thinking, and instead of letting the conversation descend into an awkward silence, he told her, “Yeah. My dad.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “I believe you. Your expression is one of complete disinterest.”
“Porter, you’re naked. My face is going to be raised brows and Cheshire cat smiles until you put clothes on.”
Liar, but he laughed anyway. “What has Ashley told you?”
“The gist.”
He liked her cagey answer. He understood taking on secrets with the implied promise to never repeat them. Though his friends thought he spilled those secrets like water in his palm, he kept the dark ones to himself. He only shared the ones he could tease them about later.
“The gist being my dad was a dick.”
“Something like that.”
Porter nodded and respected she wouldn’t say more. Really, who knew what his sister had told Iris? Ashley had her own wounds from their father’s betrayal and subsequent absence from their lives. She’d been younger, protected from a lot of the ugliness that had fallen on his shoulders.
He glanced at her across the small space. He didn’t think they were friends yet, but knew in his gut anything he told her would stay between them.
“I knew for a year about my father’s infidelity. He swore me to secrecy.” His shoulders bunched at her gasp. He stabbed the button on the microwave and pulled out the plate, piled high with leftovers. “That’s what he asked of me, and I did it. I spent a year not able to meet my mother’s eye.”
He refused to turn around and see her face now.
“Does she know?”
“She thinks I knew for a few weeks. I’ve let her. It’s bad enough my father fucked her friend. I’m sure my mother wouldn’t hold it against me. My father was in the wrong.”
“But you feel responsible because you were eighteen.”
He did look at her then, surprised she got it. “Yeah.” He rolled his shoulders. “Heavy conversation when I’m trying to get you ready for round four.”
He brought the plate over to her and then went to pull down another for the cold items that he’d left in the fridge. On his way back to her he pulled out all the utensils they’d need. She laughed again, her cheeks glowing and her eyes bright.
“But, really, you’re naked, Porter.”
“Don’t you walk around naked in your house?”
“In a towel, or my underwear.” Her eyes widened like the idea shocked her.
“Why not?” Why aren’t you comfortable in your own skin?
“We need napkins,” she hedged.
He turned to get some but threw over his shoulder, “You just want to see my ass again.”
“Not even going to lie, it’s a plus. You’ve got these nice little indents on each side of your butt cheeks. They are kind of beautiful. But, yeah, sure, I keep catching myself from wiping my hands on my pants. Since I have on no pants...”
He grabbed two handfuls worth from the counter. “Not something to worry about. I’ll lick the sauce off.”
She pointed her fork at him. “You do that.”
“What?” He picked up a thigh from the pile and bit into it with relish. Sex, like any good work out, made him ravenous.
“On the surface you seem so respectable and nerdy. Kind of sweet, when you’re not being a smartass or a jackass. You work on rocket parts, make battle bots. You’re so protective of your baby sister. Sometimes too protective. One would assume you would never say things like suck my cock, deeper.”
Had he said that? Maybe during round two and a half. Iris had an incredible mouth. “I’m a man with a sexual appetite. Am I supposed to ask you in a proper way to please, put your lips and tongue on my penis?” He shook his head. “What kind of men do you date?”
She stole the steak from the pile. “Do you really want to know?”
No, but he did wonder about the men she usually went for. Their coupling was an anomaly. She wasn’t his type. He didn’t chase women. Either they were interested or he would move on. He had to use every ounce of charm he had for her to accept a drink from him—a free drink. More to get his mouth on her neck and do a physical hard sell of what they could be in the bedroom.
He was naked. Her pussy was likely wet and dripping with his come, and still, she glanced at him with a wariness that told him he had to convince her into getting back into his bed.
She was so not his type.
Yet he wanted to chip away at the walls she’d erected. He told himself if they were open and honest with each other it would make it easier to raise a child. If he was trustworthy, she wouldn’t mind if he stood beside her, holding her hand as their child made his entrance into the world. He knew too many men who got the call after the fact. His stomach and heart hurt at the thought he wouldn’t be there to hear Junior’s first cry. He didn’t want to miss a single thing in his child’s life.
Sex, no matter how much she craved it at the moment, wouldn’t make her trust him. Being a man who was transparent would be. “I want to know,” he said and felt like he was damning himself.
One brow went up, but she nodded. “My last ex worked for an accounting firm. He had a minor in English though. That translated into a deep love of literature. One day imagined he’d be a writer. We went to things like art galleries for dates, the opera and the occasional regency fair. He didn’t say things like cock or cunt during sex.”
Porter’s idea of a good time involved a weekend long gaming session with his friends. He couldn’t judge the man too harshly for anything but the last part. “He was missing out.”
The corner of her eyes crinkled from the smile. “I’m just saying. That’s the kind of guy I dated.”
He picked up the meat, thought about what he really wanted to say, and then bit it in half. He chewed on it, going through every possibly reply until he had, “Clearly it didn’t work out.”
She gave him a look that he had no doubt Junior would wither under. “He wanted something from me I couldn’t give him.”
“What was that?”
“My submission.”
He finished the rest of the meat, thinking of all the things she hadn’t said. “What do you mean?”
“He had it in his head I would slow down at some point. We’d marry, I’d get pregnant and then I’d be at home.”
Only took two minutes to know Iris and ambition were best friends. She didn’t have small dreams. If
left up to her, Tech-to-Temp would be the go-to place that matched companies with programmers and coders.
“I can see that. My mother spent eighteen years being a stay at home mom. Her husband and best friend burned her life down to ashes. Out of it she made a career in real estate. She made side money staging homes. It’s why my house looks like this.”
“Your mother decorated your house? I love it.” She looked around. “And it feels like you. If that makes sense.”
It did. He preferred simplicity. Loved a clean line more. “You don’t think it’s staid and stark?”
“If you didn’t have the artwork.”
“What’s your favorite so far?”
“In your bedroom.” She put up her hand. “Get your mind out of the gutter. It’s a black Madonna. She’s pregnant and all these Victorian-style roses surround her. It’s beautiful.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “It’s my favorite too.”
He leaned over the counter and found her mouth with his own. She tasted of sweat, salty, and the sweetness of his brown-sugar based barbecue sauce. A minute later he pulled back to give himself some distance. He’d spent the afternoon fucking her. Her stomach was swollen with their son. That and that alone could suck him into a situation he wasn’t mentally prepared for. Shit, he wasn’t prepared for anything he had to face in the next couple of months.
Because of Grady, he knew the hard work hadn’t even begun. His job was to make sure Iris was fed, mentally happy, and her life was stress-free. Taking care of Iris took care of his son. What happened when their baby was born? What would happen if he and Iris couldn’t see eye to eye?
Porter kissed her again, deeper because he didn’t have the answer yet. His life was still a problem he didn’t know how to fix. “Are you full?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s get you into bed.”
*****
Staying the night was a bad idea. That was a thought Iris had until Porter strolled by her, his dick half-mast and his thick thighs flexing. Is this how men felt all the time? Her IQ and thinking process were in her pants. If she had any on. “Aren’t you going to clean up first?”
“Iris,” he said without turning around, “there are only bones left and the remnants of baked beans.”
She knew. She’d eaten most of it. He disappeared around the corner. She slid from the stool and followed him. He was half up the stairs by the time she caught up. She needed to leave. Round four could wait.
He turned at his door and gave her the kind of smile that hastened her pace. She breezed through the doorway, and he’d straightened the covers enough to pull them back.
He waved at the bed. “Get in.”
“Porter—”
“If you get in the bed, I’ll rub your feet.”
“Bargaining?”
“You looked shifty.”
Too amused, she fell into the bed. To her surprise he only sat on the edge beside her. She turned to her side and propped her head up with her hand. “You’re not getting in?”
“You looked shifty, so now the next time you want me to get you off, I’m going to make you beg first.”
Her mind drifted to all the things they’d done earlier. That would be a little too easy. “That’s cocky and no. I was...”
“Overthinking something simple. At least admit that much.”
Apparently their son was tired of all the jostling and happy with the meal, because he moved. She put a hand to her stomach. Porter’s stare followed the movement.
“Is he kicking up a storm right now?”
Her heart softened. This she could deal with. “Give him a minute. He always starts right when I even think the word sleep.” She got comfortable and put her hand out for his.
She placed his palm just to the right of her belly button, where all the action seemed to happen. “Over the past few days the flutters have turned into actual movement.”
His hand was warm and steady and distracting. She missed the first few kicks because her heart and her stomach were fluttering for a totally different reason.
“There,” she said. “Did you feel that?”
“No.”
She pressed his hand deeper into the soft flesh of her belly and waited. “There?”
“You just ate beans. I'm not sure what that was.”
Iris snorted. “That was our baby, you jackass.” She moved his hand a little lower, right at the swell of her stomach. “Felt that?”
“Yeah.” He splayed his fingers wide. “Be good and let your mama rest for a little while. All right?”
They both felt the next kick and laughed. She muttered, “Already listening to you more than me.”
He dropped his head and lifted his shoulders. “Daddy's little girl and mama's little boy. You guys will get along just fine.”
“Hmmm.”
He placed his hand on her stomach again. “You’re actually falling asleep on me.”
Her lids felt heavier than they had a moment before. “It’s your fault, you fed me.”
“You staying the night or are you creeping out when I close my eyes for a second?”
She shifted onto the pillow. “I was promised a round four.”
“Sleep then. I’ll keep Junior company. You’ll get the next round when you wake up.”
She worked herself up to remind him to not go soft on her, but the exhaustion of the day crept up on her. “Fine.
He laughed. “You should get your fill now. I have to fly out to New York on Monday.”
She forced her lids to lift. “Work?”
“Always. I’ll be gone for a month. I’ll be back for the next appointment though.”
And that’s where they stood. He was her child’s father. He was scratching an itch for her she couldn’t reach.
No need for another speech. Porter knew better. She knew better. She’d sleep, and when she woke up they’d be lovers for a little while longer.
Misty Knight + Her Arm
JULY
Porter settled behind his work table and frowned at his phone. “I can’t do it.”
“What do you mean you can’t? Did you or did you not sign a contract with us?”
He wiggled the joints holding the motor to his battle bot until he could rip it out. The damn thing kept freezing on him after five minutes of extensive use. In the past month he hadn’t had the time to fix it. He’d been out of the country twice to Tokyo and in upstate New York for the rest, except when he came home to go to Iris’s doctor appointment.
And to fuck her half blind after it. Twice.
He glared at his phone. Pissing off Dave wasn’t smart, not when Porter freelanced to make ends meet. Dave hadn’t just hired him on occasion when he received a big contract from the government, but the man had often referred him when small money was on the table. Small money was how he put a down payment on his house.
There was only one way out of this. “Dave, before you get your blood pressure up, I can’t do the job because my baby is due that month. I’m working as much as I can now so I can have that month, and at least two months, off from working.”
His body felt every hour he’d been putting in, but he wasn’t going to let Iris handle a newborn on her own.
The pause on the other end of the line seemed to fill his workshop. “Dave?”
“I didn’t know you got married.”
“I’m not.”
“Stuck my mouth in that, didn’t I? Congrats.”
Porter shook his head and chuckled. “I can work from home. We can Skype. We can use all the resources of technology. I cannot travel.”
A motor that sounded like a jet engine idling filled his street. He glanced over his shoulder at Iris’s car. He had to fix that for her. A car that new shouldn’t sound like that.
“I get it,” Dave said, bringing Porter’s focus back to his phone. “You want to be there in case your...”
“Mother of my child,” he provided for him.
“Gives birth.”
&
nbsp; “And I will be. This isn’t negotiable. I’m talking to you on a Saturday morning, and not charging you for it. You can work around my schedule.”
“I really needed you onboard, fulltime on this project.”
“You’ll have me fulltime, from home.”
“Is she taking care of the child?”
“We both are.”
“Then you can’t say that.”
“I can say that. I just said it. I’m not deluded into thinking it’ll be easy, but that’s the way it’s going to be.”
“Porter...”
Iris’s hand pressed into the middle of his back. His dick woke up without needing any more attention. He dragged his mind back to the conversation. “I’ll leave it up to you, Dave. Use me within these confines or don’t.”
The line went quiet, and his stomach climbed up his throat. His words weren’t a bluff. He’d just hoped everyone would understand when it came to his family, he didn’t budge. Did that mean lost opportunities in the future? Unfortunately, yeah. If that went to shit, he’d figure it out. He’d fix it.
Dave sighed. “This is what you need? These are your terms?”
“Yes.”
“Shit. Fine.”
He relaxed. “As always, I’m looking forward to arguing with you about minutiae.”
Dave laughed. “We’re already off to a great start then.”
Iris’s hand climbed up to his nape. He breathed through his nose as the call ended. Her touch distracted the shit out of him. He could at least admit to himself he was having trouble staying focused on the end goal.
And what was that again?
Porter turned his face into her stomach. “Hey, little man.”
“You say hi to him first? Am I invisible?”
He placed a kiss on her belly button and rose from the bench to catch her mouth between his teeth. “Hey, Iris.”
She hissed slowly. “Are we getting dirty today?”
Porter pulled her closer. “I can close the garage door and we can see if you like my hand prints on your ass.”
She leaned into him. “That’s not why I came by but...” She kissed him then sighed. “Close the door.”
By the time the garage door was halfway down, he’d pushed aside his bench and picked her up to sit her on the table. “How much do you like this dress?”