Bastard's Baby: A Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance (Barone Crime Family) (Includes bonus novel Smash!)

by B. B. Hamel

  I realized something as his hands cupped my breasts and then pulled my shirt over my head. I realized I really was finally giving in to him. After everything, the blackmail, the confusion, I was finally giving in to my stepbrother, my husband.

  Really, he was just Cole. Plain old Cole, the man that made me soaking wet every time he came around, the man with the incredibly body, the cocky smile, the swagger and the jokes. He was much too much and I wanted it all, every inch of him.

  He unhooked my bra and I tugged at his shirt. “Make it even,” I said.

  He grinned as he pulled it off, and then he pulled off his shorts, revealing his tight boxer briefs, his cock straining against the cotton.

  “Your turn.”

  I laughed as I pulled down my own pants, revealing the light pink thong. He grabbed me with one hand on my ass and pulled me back against him roughly.

  “That’s what I wanted to see,” he said. His other hand slipped down the front of my panties and began to tease my clit. “A nice little pink thong. You don’t even know what you do to me.”

  He squeezed my ass roughly as he continued to work my clit, and I kissed him, unable to respond. Waves of pleasure ran through me as he expertly worked my body. Every time he touched me he learned more about what I liked, and every time it got more incredible.

  Finally he pulled his hand from my panties and pushed me toward the bed. I stumbled, laughing, as he followed me, practically bending me over the bed.

  “Cole!” I said.

  His hand was on my pussy then, stroking me softly, his other hand on my shoulder. He leaned over me, and I felt his cock against my ass.

  “I can’t help myself,” he said. “I love seeing this tight little pussy and your round ass.”

  I wiggled my hips back at him, smiling, as he continued to work my pussy. Suddenly, he moved back away, and I turned half around to see him pull off his underwear. His cock was hard, standing straight and thick, and I knew what I wanted right then.

  I dropped down onto my knees in front of him. He grinned as I grabbed the base of his dick and licked him up toward the tip, teasing him. I never moved my eyes from his, and I could see how badly he wanted me to suck him, how badly he wanted my mouth wrapped around his cock.

  After another second of teasing, I slipped his hard cock deep into my mouth. He grunted and wrapped his hands through my hair. “Fuck yes,” he said. “God, I love when you suck that cock.”

  I began to work him like that, my lips sucking tight, my hand along his base. He grunted and pressed my head down, working his hips, fucking my mouth. I loved how he took control of everything, and I let him fuck my mouth. I wanted to make him feel it, even wanted to make him come. I’d love to see his thick white cum cover my full tits.

  Instead, I continued to work him, sucking his cock hard and rolling my tongue along his length. He groaned as my saliva covered his cock and I took his full dick into my mouth, deep into my throat.

  Finally I pulled back, and he moved me over onto the bed, practically tossing me onto my back. His hands confidently pulled off my panties, tossing them across the room. He spread my legs wide and began to lick at my click, working my spot.

  I gripped the sheets and tried not to moan too loudly. His mouth moved in furious circles, his lips sucking, licking at my spot, rolling into my pussy and up along my clit, causing shivers to run along my back.

  “You taste fucking delicious,” he said.

  “Cole!” I moaned. “Don’t say that.”

  “Can’t help it. I want to eat this pussy every day.”

  He pulled back, grinning at me. I gasped and stared at him as he rooted around in his pants, pulling out a condom.

  He moved back on top of me, kissing my breasts, his fingers sliding in and out of me.

  “Say you want it,” he commanded.

  “I want it.”

  “Say you want my thick cock deep in your tight little cunt.”

  “I want it. Please.” I couldn’t believe I was begging him, but that was what he drove me to. He brought me to the brink and then stepped back, staring into my eyes, promising even more if I just gave in to him.

  And I wanted to give in to him. I wanted him to take what he wanted, to have me how he wanted.

  He tore open the condom and rolled it down along his shaft. And then he was on top of me, my legs wrapped around his back as he slowly slid himself deep between my legs.

  “Fuck,” I gasped as he filled me.

  “Damn, Alex, your tight cunt never gets fucking old,” he whispered in my ear as he began to rock back and forth.

  I pulled his hair and he grunted, smiling as he fucked me. I spread my legs wide, letting his thick cock fill my pussy up, sliding even deeper. He grabbed my hips and thrusted into me, and I felt my body grow hot as sweat rolled down his chest.

  I bucked my hips back against his, working his cock as he fucked me rough and deep. Something was overtaking us, making us forget about everything; I knew it was him and his body. It was what he did to me every time we kissed, every time I let myself open to him.

  And I didn’t want to give that up.

  “I love these fucking tits,” he said, cupping them. “And working this pussy. How badly do you want me to fuck you hard?”

  “I need it,” I said.

  “I know you do.” He kissed my breasts, rocking back and rolling deep. “I know you need this cock to make you come.”

  I grabbed his strong arms as he continued to thrust into me, working in and out, rolling up through my pussy.

  Suddenly he pulled out, grabbed my hips, and spun me around. I gasped and laughed as he pushed my face down into the bed. I spread my legs wide for him as he gripped my hips and pushed himself deep inside me, thrusting in and out.

  He fucked me hard like that, grabbing onto my hips, thrusting deeper and deeper. I kept my face against the comforter, biting into the fabric to keep from crying out. I had to be a little quiet or else risk our parents hearing us. He didn’t seem to mind one bit, though, as the slap of his skin against my ass rang out again and again.

  He reached out, rubbing my clit as he slammed into me, grinding his cock deep between my legs. I rolled my hips as he grabbed my hair, pulling me back against him. His hands roamed my body, cupping my breasts, touching my clit, rubbing my nipples.

  I rocked back against him, sliding up and down his cock, riding him backward. “I love fucking you from behind,” he said. “I love this ass bouncing on my cock.”

  “Make me come,” I gasped, barely able to hold back. “I’m so fucking close.”

  He pushed me forward again and began to thrust into me hard and rough. I could tell he wasn’t holding back, and I loved it. I took his thick cock as he thrusted deeper and deeper, pushing into me. I moaned with abandon, losing myself to the motion of his hips, of his body, of our sweat.

  I felt it begin to build as he gripped my hips. “Come for me, wife,” he grunted. “Come on this dick.”

  The sound of my ass against his body as he fucked me rougher, his strong hands gripping my hips, it all drove me crazy. I felt the orgasm start in my pussy and spread out in wild waves, causing my muscles to contract, my whole body to spasm.

  “Cole,” I groaned, low and deep as I came. “Fuck me, Cole.”

  “Shit, girl,” he grunted in response. I felt his cock slamming into me as I came, long and slow and deep, it rolling through my body like thunder.

  And as it began to ebb and slow, he grunted. “Fuck,” he said. I felt him pull out of my pussy and heard the condom get ripped off.

  I turned around as he jerked himself off. I watched as his thick cum covered my chest, shooting in thick ribbons all over my tits and nipples. I smiled as he came for me, low and hard.

  And then it was over suddenly.

  We lay there in the bed, panting together. The ferocity and the power of the orgasm all made me completely exhausted, even too tired to clean the cum from my chest. He helped with that, though, using his T-shirt.
/>   “Holy shit,” I said.

  “I know,” he replied. When he was finished cleaning me off, he lay down next to me.

  We stayed like that for a while, covered in sweat, wrapped in each other’s bodies. I felt safe and right, like I was glowing.

  * * *

  Fortunately, our parents weren’t home or they were totally oblivious. Either way, we climbed into the shower together, letting the warm water soak us. He mainly held my hips against his, kissing me softly.

  “We should talk,” I said.

  “Nah,” he replied. “I’d rather just fuck you again.” His lips lingered on my throat.

  “Later,” I said, smiling. “We should talk about this fight.”

  “We don’t have to.”

  “I can’t let you make this deal, Cole.”

  “It’s okay, Alex. It’s already done.”

  “What if you lose?”

  He stopped and looked at me seriously. “I won’t lose.”

  “How can you know? What if something happened?”

  “I won’t lose,” he repeated, looking into my eyes.

  And although I knew it was probably just his normal cocky, confident swagger, I believed him. Underneath all that arrogance, there was an extremely strong and competent man. He was a fighter and always would be. I had to believe in him.

  “Still, how do we know Trent will follow through with all this?”

  “His business manager is drawing up a contract. I’ll sign it, he’ll sign it, and we’ll be done.”

  I nodded to myself. “Seems risky, though.”

  “Alex.” I looked at him. “There’s nothing else in this world but risk. Sometimes you have to jump and just trust that you’ll land.”

  I nodded slowly. “Okay. I trust you.”

  “I know you do.” He kissed me again softly.

  “This doesn’t mean you get to keep calling me ‘sis’ or ‘wife,’ you know,” I said when we stopped.

  “Well, that’s just not true.”

  I looked away, smiling to myself. “Try it and see what happens.”

  “Okay, sis.”

  I splashed water at him and he laughed, blowing it back at me.

  “Not exactly a big deterrent, wife,” he said.

  “Okay, now you asked for it.”

  The rest of the night was spent in the shower, making our bodies come again, wrapped around each other.

  And then again, back in the bedroom. All through the night it was him and everything he was doing.

  I knew what he wanted, and he knew what I wanted. The problem of the fight still hung loosely over our heads, but for some reason it didn’t seem so bad. The uncertainty wasn’t bothering me as much as it had before.

  I was learning to live in the moment with him.

  I was learning to give in to what I wanted, even if it was wrong.

  18

  Cole

  I could feel the sweat roll down my back as the low roar of the crowd began to wash over me.

  Across the thin mat of the ring’s center stood Trent, staring back at me with a menacing grin. I smiled back and nodded, just to see how he would react, and I watched as he turned away.

  People were saying things to me. I nodded their way, so they understood, but really I was far from there. I was in my own head, in my own zone, slowly feeling the calm rage build up in my body.

  My eyes roamed out over the crowd and I spotted her, sitting in the front row: Alexa, her hair piled up on her head, staring back at me. I smiled at her, and she smiled back. The crowd roared again and I looked away, afraid that the sight of her would sap the rage from me.

  The last few days had been a blur of training. Ronnie offered to help work with me, and together we worked harder than I’d ever worked before. I lived and breathed the fight, learning everything I could about Trent, and I felt like I was as ready as I ever would be.

  But two days ago, I totally stopped my training and prep. There was such a thing as too much preparation, and I had decided I didn’t want to burn out. Instead, I got my workouts through Alexa, fucking her night and day and basically spending as much time with her as I could.

  Because after this fight, who knew what was going to happen. If I lost, Trent could publish those pictures and tear our family apart. I’d never fight again, of course, but that seemed like only a distant problem, an issue someone else would have to deal with.

  The only two things I cared about were Alexa and beating Trent until he bled.

  The ring announcer said something, and Ronnie shoved me toward the center. The ref was giving the usual bullshit prefight talk, and so I stood there listening while Trent tried to stare me down.

  There was no fear in me. There never was. Every time I fought, I never felt like something bad could happen. Instead, I was calm, as calm as I’d ever been in my life. Finally, the ref finished, and I went back to my corner. Ronnie had left the ring and was standing just outside the cage.

  “Remember,” he yelled, “kick him in the face.”

  I grinned and nodded. “The fucking face,” I yelled back.

  Ronnie gave me the thumbs up, and I looked back across the ring at Trent.

  He was shaking his muscles out. I felt no jitters and had no reason to warm up any more. I’d already spent the last two hours slowly going through my prefight routine. I was as ready as I was ever going to be. The only thing I needed was the sound of the bell.

  My hands were wrapped and covered, and I could feel the slight stale breeze from the venue’s air conditioning. The lights were bright and made the ring hot as fuck, but that didn’t matter. It was the same venue that I had won my last match in, which was good. I felt comfortable, even though the crowd was twice as big and three times as loud and everything was being broadcast on TV. None of that stuff bothered me.

  I stood there, breathing in and out. In and out. Deep and loose.

  And then the bell rang.

  I moved forward, my hands held up, moving loosely on my toes. Trent came at me right away, throwing furious blows.

  We exchanged punches like that. He wanted to go for a fast knockout, but that was a mistake on his part. I held my own, using my hands as much as my feet, but he was clearly prepared for my kicks. Trent was a good stand-up fighter, maybe one of the best, and in the past I had always had to take him down to the mat to win.

  But I didn’t want to do that. I felt the rage twist inside me as I fought back, throwing a furious punch that landed, followed by another kick. He stumbled, and I could have pressed, but I didn’t. Instead, I took a half second to prepare my next attack. I could have taken him down right the and there, maybe even won the match through a submission hold, but I couldn’t.

  He came back at me, throwing heavy blows. I took as good as I gave, one punch after the other, and I could feel my body was battered. We were circling each other, diving in to attack like hungry sharks, pulling back bloodied and bruised.

  It was one of the most brutal rounds of my life. When the bell rang, ending the action, I pulled back to my corner. Both of us were bleeding from cuts on our faces, and I spit a bright red clotted ball of blood, probably from a tooth.

  “What are you doing?” Ronnie yelled over the noise. “That shit was brutal.”

  I nodded, not able to speak.

  “You got to get him down, man. You can take him there. On your feet, you’re even. Any shit can happen. But down there, man, you can take him.”

  I nodded again, drinking water.

  “Fuck him up, Cole. Fucking murder him.” He backed off as the next round was about to start.

  I stood, feeling the rage, embracing the crowd. I couldn’t look at Alexa, because I knew her concern would change my mind. I wanted to get back in there and punish Trent with my fists until he knew who the real fighter was.

  So that was exactly what I did. For another round, I stood my ground and fought him, trading blows like boxers. It was the slowest and most painful round of my life. Our injuries were piling up, but neit
her one of us was willing to give an inch. I could sense Trent’s frustration, because he probably thought he should be able to win the match on his feet.

  But he was incredibly wrong. He had no clue how evenly matched we were standing, how much stronger I’d gotten over the last year. Trent was a good fighter, but he was nothing compared to what I had become.

  I landed some strong kicks to his body. I could tell he was hurting by the way he moved, could tell that he was frustrated and wanted to lash out. He was going to get sloppy. I just had to make sure that I was ready to capitalize when he finally stumbled again.

  The second round ended like the first one had, both of us bloodied and bruised. We were scheduled for eight, but at the pace we were fighting at, we’d never make it. One of us was going to collapse from exhaustion.

  The next round happened and the next. Both times Ronnie screamed at me to go for the takedown, to wrestle him on the ground, to try to get the submission hold. But both times I ignored him, deciding to stay on my feet instead and slug it out with Trent, toe to toe. I never backed down, never gave ground, and although I was bleeding and hurt in a thousand different places, I could tell that I was winning. Not on the scorecard, maybe, but Trent was getting sloppy, frustrated.

  I had something to prove. I needed to show the world what kind of fighter I was. There weren’t many men that could stand up to Trent the way I was, fighting him in his preferred style. There were even fewer that could step in and take him down at any moment.

  The fifth round began. I could feel one of my teeth was loose, and Trent’s left eye was almost swollen shut. We looked insane, and I was almost surprised that the ref even let the round begin. But we were out there, face to face, going at it again.

  Trent was getting sloppy and loose. I could see the anger etched on his face, pure and unbridled rage. I felt calm, though anger simmered below the surface, propelling me forward. Still, he was throwing wild haymakers, trying desperately to knock me out.