KNOCKED UP BY THE BAD BOY

by Nicole Fox

  Dane grabbed hold of her panties and tore hard, tearing the fabric with a loud rip. They hung from her hips by the barest of threads, destroyed and useless, as he grabbed his cock and spread her legs with his hips.

  She reached down between them, her hands wrapping around his cock, her nails tracing along his fingers. Together, they guided him to her drenched netherlips as she held her breath and groaned.

  He traced his crown up and down, parting her lips, and rubbing her clit. “Please don't make me wait anymore,” she pleaded. “It's been so long already.”

  He slid into her a short distance, and she cried out, still not accustomed to his length. “You feel amazing,” he growled, as he pushed deeper into her.

  She spread herself wider, crying out in pleasure as she wrapped her legs around his lower back and drew him deeper into her.

  Together, they moved as one, their bodies quickly finding a steady rhythm as they continued to kiss and as their hands continued to roam. They were like one soul, one melding of flesh, as Dane pleasured her and she pleasured him, their bodies moving against one another.

  Her first orgasm came quickly, a sudden surprise of pleasure that seemed to explode inside her body. She shuddered and clung tighter to his muscular body, her nails digging into his back as they kissed again. She'd never felt a need like this, or such pleasure before, and she screamed out again and again.

  “I'm close,” he growled in her ear.

  “Inside of me,” she panted. “Please, I want to feel you inside me.”

  Soon, they were groaning as his whole body tensed, then began to pick up speed.

  Her whole body tensed again as she felt him begin to pulse and grow inside her, until he finally loosed himself within. She cried out as he filled her, her whole body climaxing and shaking around his manhood, massaging and milking him, praying for just one more drop from her former captor. She bit down hard on his shoulder as he cried out again, his body shaking like a leaf, sending her over the edge one more time.

  Eventually, though, it came to an end, and their panting, sweaty bodies were the only reminder of how amazing it had just been.

  He rolled off of her and flopped onto the bed, panting with the sweet exertion. She rolled over, feeling his seed still deliciously deep inside her, and slipped inside his crooked arm. He pulled her close and kissed her again.

  She lay there against his chest, breathing him in, her eyes closed. Thoughts of that overly long week from a year ago came drifting back, joined by all the time in between. And, as she thought about those dark times, and how erotic that had been in parts, she remembered.

  She still had a dinner date with Ian. Her fiancé.

  Sighing, Emily untangled herself from Dane's body and went to rise, a sudden pang of bittersweet regret hitting her.

  This had been it. This had been the end. She reached down, pulled at the panties Dane had just ruined and sighed again, shaking her head. Same old Dane. She got up from the bed, went over to her dresser, and pulled out fresh underwear.

  “What's he like?” Dane asked, as he lay there on the bed, his chest still glistening with their sex-sweat.

  “Ian?” Emily asked, as she pulled her fresh underwear on. “He's safe.”

  “Safe, huh?” Dane asked, chuckling. “That what you want now?”

  “That's what I always wanted,” Emily corrected him as she went back around to grab her discarded bra from the floor. “He doesn't mind that I'm more successful than him, or that I make more money than he does. Not all men can be like that, be so accepting of their limitations.”

  Dane frowned.

  “But, he's nice,” she said, as she put her bra back on and snapped it into place. “We're going to be very happy together.”

  Dane's frown deepened as he considered her words. He just shook his head, though, and didn't say anything to the contrary. Instead, he just began pulling on his clothes.

  Even to her own ears, though, her assertion sounded thin and hollow. Ian was safe. He was handsome, and he was somewhat successful. He was nothing like Dane. Emily didn't know if those were all points in his favor, though. Besides, even though she was getting married to the man, she sometimes she felt like hardly saw him, with their schedules being the way it was. This was the first time in almost a week that they'd even been able to see one another.

  As she finished dressing, Dane got off the bed and grabbed his clothes from around the room. He pulled them back on, dressing himself.

  Sure Ian had failings, but, still, he was a better choice than Dane. She had spent the last year thinking about him and about the debt she owed to him for the scandal he'd uncovered with BioSphere. But that was all she owed him for. What they’d had before wasn't love. It was a sick fantasy world that he'd sucked her into, one caused by the situation he'd constructed around her. What kind of man would do that? And what kind of woman would fall for it?

  Not Emily. That was for sure.

  Soon, they both stood uncomfortably, fully-dressed in Emily's bedroom. “Guess this is it, then,” he said, his voice full of finality.

  “Yes,” Emily agreed, nodding even as she fought her lower lip from trembling.

  “I'll let myself out,” he replied. He turned to leave, but stopped himself at the door. Without turning around, he simply said, “Have a good life, Emily West. You deserve it.”

  She watched him leave, her eyes brimming with tears. She listened to him walk down the long hallway, then into the entryway. He didn't break stride, but just opened the door and closed it behind him.

  And that was it. That was the end.

  God, she wanted to follow him, to be with him, to feel his beautifully hard hands on her for the rest of her life. No matter how much she looked, she'd never find a man like him again. And she knew it. The tears began to fall to her cheeks, ruining her makeup. She stuffed her knuckle in her mouth and sat down on the edge of the still-warm bed, biting her hand hard as her shoulders were wracked with sobs.

  # # #

  Dane

  He shut the front door behind him and just closed his eyes, thinking about what an idiot he was. This was it. This was his chance at happiness. The one woman he'd ever loved was gone, and he didn't even do anything to fight for her, even when he'd just slept with her.

  What was he supposed to do, though? Go back in there now? Try to ruin her life again?

  Still with his eyes closed, Dane shook his head and growled deep in his chest, a hurt sound that didn't seem to do anything to assuage the ache deep inside him.

  Out on the street, a car honked its horn, getting his attention.

  He opened his eyes and saw that the cabby had come back for him. Dane just shook his head and headed down to the street to meet her.

  “Way you looked,” she said, as he opened the cab door and slid back into the passenger seat, “was a man walking to meet a firing squad, not an old friend. Decided I should swing back around to see if you needed a ride outta here.”

  “Thanks again,” he said, groaning.

  “You say your peace, then? To the lady?”

  Dane shook his head, smiling sadly. “How do you know it was even a lady?”

  “I get to see all sorts of looks driving this cab,” she said, laughing, “and men don't look like that for much else other than a lady.”

  He gave her the address for his brother's apartment, his final destination.

  “Want me to stick around when we get there, too?” she asked, not prodding, but just wanting to know how her schedule looked.

  “It's my brother's place, where I'll be staying,” he said. “So definitely won't need a ride from there. Thanks anyways, though.”

  “No problem, sugar.”

  They rode the rest of the way in silence. When they pulled up in front of Benton's apartment, Dane stuffed a fifty in her hand and refused to take it back. “I can't,” she said. “I really can't.”

  “You can and will,” he said, shaking his head. “Tell your husband thanks for the call,” he said, closing
the passenger door behind him.

  He headed up to the door and searched the names listed at the entrance. He found the one labeled K. Bishop and buzzed it.

  “Hello?” his brother answered after a long minute.

  “Guess who, bro.”

  “Holy shit!” Benton said, his voice electronic and filled with static. He got off the intercom and buzzed him in. Dane made his way inside and trudged up to the stairs to his brother's apartment.

  Benton was waiting for him, the front door open, with him leaning against back the frame with his arms crossed, a broad smile on his mirror-image face. “Why didn't you say when you were gonna get out?” he called, when Dane's head popped into view over the stairs.

  “Had to make a stop before I saw you,” Dane replied, as he dragged himself down the hall. “And I didn't want to have you talk me out of it.”

  “Emily, huh?”

  Dane nodded. “Yeah. Emily.”

  Benton sighed and shook his head. “Tough, man. Real tough. Come here.” He wrapped Dane into a warm embrace, clapping him on the back. It was the first time they'd hugged in years, and something about it felt right. Like Dane was having an arm returned to him.

  “Thanks,” Dane said as they broke apart.

  “Well, come on in and have a beer while we get you settled. It ain't Bishop's Brews, but it still ain't bad.”

  The two brothers went into the small apartment. It was a spartan one bedroom place, with no pictures on the walls, and no television even. There were just books and half-empty boxes and cheap furniture. On one table, next to the couch, sat the pictures of Benton's deceased wife and their children together. They were memories from a happier time, memories of the life Dane's brother used to have.

  “Still unpacking?” Dane asked, as he followed his brother into the kitchen.

  “Yeah,” Benton said, as he opened the fridge and poked his head inside to grab a beer. He pushed one into his brother's hand and gave him the bottle opener. “Little here, a little there. Just getting everything put up still while I try to figure out everything. Still weird being out and working on being healthy, you know?”

  Dane popped the lid on his beer and took a long, grateful drink. He hadn't tasted a good beer in he didn't know how long. Since before prison, that was for sure. It was cool and effervescent, with a good bite of bitter hops.

  They stood there in the kitchen, a mutually agreed silence falling over them as they sucked on their beers.

  “Sucks, doesn't it?” Benton asked, smirking.

  Dane shook his head. “It's like I don't have a heart anymore, but I'm still fucking living for some reason. I don't know how I'm going to do it.”

  His one-minute-older brother nodded and took a long drink. “I hear ya, man. The whole time I was in there, I was thinking about how I didn't want out. I didn't deserve to be out. You know that?”

  Benton had never told him this before. He shook his head.

  “I thought that you were barking up the wrong tree about Hymalete. I'd accepted the blame, shouldered it entirely. But, you, Dane, you little brother, you kept pushing and pushing and pushing and finally did it.”

  Dane set his beer aside. “I didn't know, man.”

  “I was ready to die in there,” Benton said, nodding, licking his lips free of beer as he set his own bottle on the counter. “Ready to just give it up entirely and accept full responsibility. But, then, you came along with actual proof of the damage those bastards caused. You know how that makes a man feel? To be told he's not entirely to blame, that there really wasn't anything he could do?”

  He shook his head at Benton's words. “I don't know what to say.”

  “You set me free, man. I mean, we're still the only family we have, and now the settlement's almost entirely gone.”

  The settlement was almost gone? There had been enough in there to pay for his legal fund twice over. What had he wasted it on? “Wait,” Dane said, his voice rising. “What did you just say about the settlement? What the fuck did you do with your money?”

  “Relax,” Benton said, smiling as he took another drink of beer. “Invested it.”

  “Invested it?” he repeated back, his voice still just below a shout. “In what, Benton?”

  “A business. Demolition work. Bishop & Bishop Demolitions.”

  “You . . . both of us?”

  “Yep,” Benton replied, grinning. “Partner. Just look at it as a way for us to build something together. We're both starting off from scratch, right? What better way to honor someone than to create something new? Especially when we put a portion of the money to helping vets and first responders with PTSD?”

  Dane grinned and lifted his beer back to his lips, tilting it back as he took a swallow. “Believe it or not, that actually sounds nice.”

  “I mean, it won't fill the holes left by anyone. But, it might help. Besides, we probably need some work to take our minds off things. That was the best part about the service, right? Always having something to do.”

  Yeah, Dane thought. His brother was right. Idle hands, and all that. Something like this, a business he needed to build up from scratch, was perfect for two military vets, and two ex-cons, like them. Hell, he'd helped to take down a multinational drug company, hadn't he? If he could do that, he could manage whatever he put his mind to.

  Dane raised his beer in a toast to his brother. “To better days,” he said.

  Benton toasted him back, and they clinked their bottles together. “To better days.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Dane

  “I know the way we met was a little unorthodox,” Dane said, as he bent his knee in front of Emily. “And I'm sorry for turning your world upside down. But, people like us, we need each other. We're too different and too strong for anyone else to handle us. We'd just chew them up and spit them out.”

  Emily stared down at her hand as Dane took hold of it. She watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. “What are you . . .?”

  “Let me finish,” Dane said, filling in where she trailed off. “I'm nervous here, and I'll lose track.”

  She laughed as she wiped a tear from her eye. “Okay, finish.”

  “People like us, Em, we need other people like us. We need them because we're like tornadoes with other people, walking disasters. You're the only woman that's ever meant anything to me, the only woman I've ever met who could be stronger than me and put me in my place. I love you, Emily. I have since our first screwed up week together, and I will until the day I die. I guess I'm just trying to say . . . will you marry me, Emily West? Will you become Mrs. Emily Bishop, and make me the happiest man alive?”

  She smiled and nodded, the tears coming down her cheeks like rain on a spring day. “Yes, Dane. I'd love to.”

  Dane stood up from his bended knee and swept her into his arms, just like he had the day he'd gotten out. Her arms around his neck, they kissed, their smiles barely contained as he spun her around and around.

  Later, Benton and Dane divvied up the steaks and seasoned them before slapping them on the platter. The coals were hot and ready on the grill outside and they didn't have time to waste. Laughing and talking about their plans for the company, they both headed outside with them.

  On the way, Emily came in and distracted Dane, baby in arms. “She wants to see Daddy,” Emily explained to Benton, and he just rolled his eyes and headed towards the backyard.

  “I'll get 'em started. You guys worry about Aunt's Charlene's favorite niece.”

  Dane laughed as he pulled the mother of his children into his arms, kissing the top of her head. Their daughter, Paula, had gotten the blonde hair from Emily's side of the family, along with her smile. He knew she'd gotten his strength, though, from the way he grabbed his finger and tugged at it.

  “She's so feisty,” Emily said, smiling so widely that it didn't seem like her face could contain all her joy.

  “Just like her mother,” Dane said, squeezing Emily tighter.

  “I
was thinking more like her father,” Emily said.

  “Dad!” Dane Jr. called from the back door. “Uncle Benton says you need to grab some more seasoning from the kitchen.”

  Dane laughed, his heart full to bursting with the love that it could barely contain. This house was so full of life and happiness. His brother was rebuilding his life, while still being mindful of what he'd left behind. This, right here, was what dreams were made of.

  “Well, of course they are,” his wife said, smiling up at him as she agreed with his thoughts.

  “Of course, they are?” Dane asked, squeezing her tightly. “What do you mean?”