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by C. M. Seabrook


  Once the words are out of my mouth, I know there’s no taking them back. I’ve never told anyone, except my parents, that I love them. Because until now, I know I never have. Not really. Not like this.

  Carter’s mouth is on me, stopping my argument, my reasoning why this thing between us will never work. And right now, I don’t care. All I care about is his touch. The feel of his skin against mine. The need to be filled with something other than the pain that’s been squeezing at my chest since we left the hospital.

  I know I’m using him, using sex to drive away those demons from my mind, but it’s all I can do to stop from falling apart completely.

  Rough fingers rake across my skin as he quickly undresses me, his own desire evident in the tightness of his features, and the urgency of his kiss.

  “Say it again,” he growls, when we’re both standing naked, his thick, throbbing erection pressing against my stomach.

  “I love you.” It’s easier this time, and doesn’t come out sounding as forced.

  His mouth crashes down on mine, demanding and possessive.

  I press against his strong, muscular chest and I lose myself in his mouth. His tongue snakes between my lips and it takes all that I have not to lose myself completely in him.

  It would be easy to give up control. Let him have me in every way. Heart. Body. Mind. Soul.

  Marry me. Those words tremble through me.

  The moment I found out I was pregnant, I gave up all hope that I’d ever find someone who would want me, let alone marry me.

  God, I want it. I want all the promises and dreams he’s offering. But there’s still a part of me that knows no matter how good his intentions are, he wouldn’t be asking me to make that commitment if I weren’t having a baby.

  Maybe it shouldn’t matter. But it does.

  “Stop thinking,” he murmurs in my ear, grabbing my hips as he turns and sits on the edge of the bed, pulling me down so that I’m straddling him, my knees against his hips.

  His erection strains against me, and I can practically feel it pulsating against my stomach.

  I wrap my arm around his shoulders, and press my forehead against his, taking a few deep breaths.

  “I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says softly, kissing my neck, jaw, and lips. His scruff is scratchy and wonderfully rough against my skin. “Just let go.”

  One large palm runs up my back, the other supports my weight, gripping my hip as I begin to grind against him, the friction causing him to groan.

  He’s holding back now, waiting for me.

  I’m already wet for him, and when I lift myself on my knees and nudge against the thick head of his cock, the last bit of restraint that’s holding me back releases.

  With a gasp of pleasure, I dig my fingers into his hair and slide down on him, allowing him to fill me completely.

  Burning pleasure ripples through me, and a low guttural groan vibrates from Carter’s chest. His fingers tighten, digging into my flesh, holding me still as he kisses me, giving me time to adjust to his size.

  “You have no idea what you do to me.” His breathing is harsh, his words thickened with desire. “If you did, you would never have any doubts.”

  I kiss him back hard, my chest clenching at his words, searing my emotions. His teeth nip, catching my lower lip, then stroking his tongue over it with a teasing lick.

  His mouth remains on mine, one hand supporting me as he moves us back on the bed. He’s still inside of me, throbbing against my walls, and my clit pulses and aches, demanding friction.

  Palms pressed on his strong shoulders, I start to move, slowly at first, small, grinding strokes, that only add fuel to the growing fire building between us.

  He tilts his head up, catching my breast in his mouth, nipping and licking, sending pulses of electricity to my core.

  Each touch is spiked with lust and love, a mixture that creates an inferno of heat that builds within me, blazing across my skin.

  Desperation fills me, and I move faster, demanding more. He’s both tender and demanding, pushing me over the edge.

  “Carter,” I cry out, my head tilting back, eyes clenching shut, allowing his touch to drive my demons back to the darkest pit of myself where they belong.

  He moves with me, his hips thrusting up, his hands guiding my movements to the perfect rhythm we’ve created.

  This is happiness. And I let myself feel it. Really feel it. Without all the anxiety and fear that usually holds me back.

  My body explodes around him, wave after wave of intense pleasure bursting through me, blinding me. A strangled sound erupts from the deepest part of me, and I’m falling, my body weightless, and yet filled with such complete ecstasy that I don’t care if I ever come down from the incredible high.

  Inside of me, I feel his hard release, hear his guttural moan as his orgasm sends one last intense ripple of pleasure through my core.

  Spent and exhausted, I collapse on top of him, careful not to put too much pressure on my stomach.

  We lay there like that for a short time, before I slowly roll to my side, allowing him to wrap an arm around me.

  “I love you,” he whispers, brushing my hair away from my cheek. “Do you believe me when I tell you that?”

  I nod, because I do. I just don’t know if it’s enough.

  “Thank you for the library,” I say, remembering the gift he’d given me this morning.

  His lips lift in a small grin. “You’re welcome.”

  Running my fingers over his chest, another surge of warmth spreads through me. I know what it is – hope.

  “About what you asked me earlier…”

  His muscles tense slightly under my touch. “Yeah?”

  I can’t give him the answer he wants. Not right now, but I want to give him something. “Maybe…”

  He presses a kiss into my hair and exhales a heavy breath.

  “Maybe is better than no,” he says lightly.

  I nod, wishing I could give him more. Because with him, life is good. Really good. The fairytale, happily ever after good. And it’s terrifying the crap out of me. Because one thing I’ve learned in my life, the one constant, is that disaster is always hiding just around the corner.

  Chapter 24

  Carter

  “What the fuck?” A deep, guttural cry pushes into my dreams.

  My entire body jolts awake, adrenaline spiking through my veins, preparing me to fight whatever danger is waiting for me.

  I sit up, blinking hard until my eyes adjust to the morning light, and when I do, I curse under my breath, because Travis is standing at the edge of the bed, a deep scowl twisting his features as he glares down at Layla, who stirs beside me.

  The bed creeks as I start to shift. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Keep my voice down?” he repeats, blinking at me like I’m insane, his face blistering with rage.

  “Go,” I say quietly, but the warning is still there. “We’ll talk downstairs.”

  “Are you kidding me? I want to know what the hell is going on. Right now,” he yells, blue eyes wide with a fix of bewilderment and anger.

  Layla comes fully awake and she gasps when her gaze falls on Travis. I can practically see all the fear that I’ve been working so hard to get rid of these past months fill her. She clutches the blankets to her chest, and her eyes are wide as she stares back at my brother.

  “Jesus, Layla.” Travis drags his fingers through his long hair, his face red with anger.

  She sucks in an uneven breath. “Travis, I didn’t mean–”

  “You really are a dirty little slut. You couldn’t have my cock so you jump right into bed with my brother.”

  “Watch yourself,” I growl, grabbing my pants from the floor, then shoving my legs into them as quickly as I can, needing to get him the hell away from her.

  Already, I can see her shutting down. Her shoulders sag, and resignation fills her expression.

  Travis’ hands ball into fists at his side, but his anger is only
directed at Layla. “How long did it take before you were screwing him? One week? Two?”

  “Shut the fuck up before you say something that makes me want to hit you more than I already do.”

  Travis looks at me then, his anger fixed at me, where it should be. “You’re seriously fucking her?”

  “Downstairs,” I growl out, pointing to the open door. “Now.”

  “Unfucking believable.” He shakes his head, still scowling, but thankfully he listens to me, turning and walking out of the bedroom with a series of curses.

  I wince at the sound of his heavy footsteps as they clomp down the stairs.

  Layla’s face is pale, her eyes vacant. There are no tears, just a hollowness that scares the shit out of me.

  “It’s going to be okay,” I say, leaning over the bed and placing my hand under her chin, forcing her to look at me.

  No reaction.

  I press my lips against hers, but she doesn’t return my kiss.

  “Let me deal with him. Just stay here.”

  Again, nothing. Just a blank a stare that makes my blood go cold.

  I’ve never wanted to hurt someone more in my life than I do Travis, right now.

  I shut my bedroom door behind me when I leave, hoping it’ll muffle the words that I’m about to have with my brother.

  Layla doesn’t need or deserve this shit right now. Especially not when she’s so close to her due date. Any stress could cause her to go into labor at any moment.

  Travis is in the living room, and when he sees me, he stops his pacing and points his finger at me. “Do you have any idea how fucked up this is?”

  “Just shut your mouth and listen. It’s not what you think.”

  “So you’re not screwing her? You were what? Having a little slumber party butt ass naked?” The sarcasm drips from his words.

  “I’m in love with her.”

  That shuts him up. At least for a few seconds, then he growls out, “Bullshit. I come back here, wanting to make things better. To do what you said and take responsibility, and you’re what? Playing house with the mother of my child.”

  “You walked away.”

  “I came back,” he shouts, fire blazing in his eyes. “And you knew I would. I just needed time to think. To get my head straight.”

  His words are like a punch to the gut. He’s right, there was always a part of me that knew he’d come back eventually. Because as selfish and egotistical as he is, he’s not a complete asshole. I knew that his sense of obligation would eventually click in.

  But that doesn’t mean he loves Layla, or even that he wants the kid.

  I do. More than anything else in the world.

  “You don’t want this.” I try to keep my tone even, my temper in check. “You told me yourself that you aren’t mature enough to have a kid–”

  “So you thought it was your obligation to step in and take my place?”

  “It wasn’t like that–”

  “Right. You love her.” He laughs darkly. “Give me a break.”

  “I do love her. And I’m going to make her my wife.”

  That gets his attention. His eyes widen and his face drains of color.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” There’s panic in his expression now. “You can’t do that. Do you know how messed up that would be?”

  “We’ll make it work.”

  “Bullshit.” He starts to pace again, fingers clenching and unclenching like he wants to hit something. “This. You. Her. All of it is fucking bullshit.”

  “You’re the one who left. Not Layla. Not me. You gave up your rights to come stomping in here on your high horse, and pointing fingers.”

  “It’s my fucking kid.”

  “You’re right.” Layla stands on the first stair, light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, her fitted t-shirt stretched taut across her rounded stomach. The distress in her voice strikes me hard, and I can feel the pain in her words when she admits, “It is.”

  I open my mouth to argue, then clamp it shut.

  Mine. Every possessive bone in my body screams.

  I narrow my eyes at her, praying she isn’t saying what I think she is.

  Travis starts towards her, and I have to hold myself back from tackling him to the ground. I know he won’t lay a hand on her, but it doesn’t stop me from not wanting him anywhere near her.

  “Why did you come back?” Layla asks, all her focus on Travis, her expression still stoic.

  “To fix things.” He stands a few feet away from her now, his back to me. “I shouldn’t have left. I know that now. I thought…I thought we could try.” He shakes his head fervently. “But this is just insane.”

  Layla doesn’t respond, she just watches him, the only indication of distress the small muscle in her jaw twitching.

  “So what happens? You two get hitched, and then I’m what? Uncle Travis?” He turns and looks at me with pure hatred in his eyes. “Or are we both going to play Daddy?” He laughs and throws his hands up. “That’ll be fun explaining to people.”

  “You think I give two shits what people think?” I say, the truth not as clear cut. Because the fact is I don’t want Travis in this child’s life. I know how fucking selfish that is. But over the past several months I’ve come to think of it as mine.

  Having him around would do more than complicate things, it would change things between Layla and me. Because I can see it in her eyes that she’s already pulling away, already thinking about her escape route.

  Layla sits down on the step, and even though I can tell she’s trying her best to hold herself together, her hand shakes when she reaches for the railing.

  “I need a drink,” Travis says, despite it only being a little past eight in the morning.

  He turns on his heels and storms into the kitchen.

  Layla flinches when cupboards start to slam.

  “Where the hell is all the alcohol?” Travis’ breathing is harsh, his tone desperate.

  “There isn’t any,” I say, not tearing my gaze away from Layla, whose arms are wrapped protectively around herself.

  “Of course, there isn’t. Saint fucking Carter my ass,” Travis hisses.

  “Where are you going?” I bark, when he starts towards the front door.

  “What do you care? It’s pretty obvious you’re just itching to get rid of me again. I hope it’s worth it. Choosing a little a tramp over your own brother. Mom and Dad would be so proud–”

  My fist slams into his face, silencing him. His head snaps back and he stumbles, blood instantly oozing from his nose.

  “Carter, stop,” Layla shrieks behind me.

  I’m prepared for Travis’ retaliation, but not for the look of betrayal and hurt that meets me when he finally gets his bearings.

  He wipes the blood from his nose with the back of his hand, lips tight, jaw clenched. “You’re an asshole, you know that?”

  My chest squeezes painfully.

  Travis turns and storms out of the house, slamming the door so hard behind him that the pictures on the wall rattle.

  I rub my knuckles, staring at the closed door for a few seconds, before turning back to Layla.

  “You shouldn’t have hit him.” There’s emotion in her voice now, tears glistening in her eyes.

  “He deserved it. No one talks to you like that.”

  “He had a reason to. Think about it from his perspective. He comes home to find us…together.”

  “He walked away,” I say incredulously.

  “And he came back.”

  Cold trickles down my back. What is she saying?

  “You’re not thinking about giving him a second chance?”

  “It’s his child. I can’t–”

  “He signed the papers, made his decision.” Fear constricts my chest, tightens my throat.

  “He’s your brother.” Her hands reach for the railing, fingers trembling. “You’re the one who told me he’d be back. Are you really prepared to cut him out of your life…for me?”

 
She has no clue what I was willing to do for her.

  “Yes,” I growl, moving towards her, but she puts out a hand to stop me when I try to touch her.

  “You say that now, but…” A small, sad smile draws her lips up, her expression unreadable.

  Every insecurity that I’ve tried to suppress fills me.

  She wants him.

  Wants to raise this child with him.

  I was just a second choice.

  Somewhere deep inside of me, I know it’s not true, but then there’s the other voice, the one that’s screaming at me right now, telling me what a blind idiot I’ve been.

  I came swooping in here, not giving her much, if any choice. Demanding that she be mine.

  She told me that Travis was only the second person she’s been with. He had to mean something to her. I’d tried to not think about that. But the evidence of what was between them would always be there. If Travis really had changed his mind, then I couldn’t stop him from being part of the child’s life. Being part of Layla’s.

  Fuck.

  My head is spinning.

  I need to get out of here before I say something I’ll regret. I take her hand and stroke my thumb across the soft skin.

  God, I love her. I thought I knew how much, but I didn’t really, not until now, when I’m about to lose her.

  The question is, do I love her enough to give her what she needs? Even if what she needs is me walking away?

  “I’ll go.”

  “What?” Her gaze jerks up to mine.

  “Travis left his bags.” I nod at the duffle bag and knapsack by the front door. “He’ll be back. And you two need to talk.”

  “Carter–”

  “There are some things I’ve been putting off in New York. I’ll go there for a few days. Give you time to think about what you want.”

  I take her hand and brush my lips against her knuckles. Every cell in my body prays that she’ll try and stop me.

  But she doesn’t.

  Chapter 25

  Layla

  I should have stopped Carter from leaving. I know that. My heart shattered into a million pieces when I watched him walk out the door.

  I’ve spent the rest of the day regretting it. Every few minutes looking at my cell phone, hoping that he’ll call, or glancing at the front door and praying that he’ll walk through it.

 

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