by Lucia Franco
When he said nothing, she said, “You have no idea what it was like. He was ruining my life. I couldn’t pull you into the fire too. You’d just enlisted. I wasn’t going to take that away from you.”
John stood up, an eerie darkness surrounding him. “He could have killed you. Do you have no regard for your life and your unborn child’s life?”
“I left, didn’t I?” she retorted.
“You left too late.”
Alyssa’s shoulders sagged, her eyes were heavy. She was completely depleted of energy to argue with John. “John, I can’t do this right now.”
“Did you think about me at all? About the devastation I would’ve suffered if something happened to you? I would have helped. You saw how Jace’s death affected me,” he said, placing a flat hand to his chest. “It damn near destroyed me permanently. I’m still not fully recovered from that, and I don’t think I could handle it if something happened to you.” John let out a loud sigh and lowered his voice. “Alyssa, when I got the call from my pops, I was sick to my stomach. I couldn’t think straight. I raced down here as fast as I could to be by your side, praying and wishing for a miracle that you’d be okay.”
A lone tear dripped down her cheek. John saw it and said, “I’m sorry for making you cry. That’s not what I wanted.”
“It’s okay,” she whispered, wiping the tear away.
“No, it’s not okay to make you cry. I don’t want to hurt you, Alyssa. I just want answers.”
“I don’t have answers that you’re going to like.” Another tear slipped out. “You’re not hurting me, Johnny. Everything you said was spot on. Sometimes the truth hurts to hear, that’s all.”
Grabbing a tissue, John sat on the edge of the bed and blotted her tears away. “You look exhausted. Why don’t you get some rest?”
John stood. He leaned over and dropped a kiss to her forehead, breathing her in. He turned to walk away, but she grabbed his wrist to stop him.
“Please, don’t go just yet.” Alyssa didn’t want to be alone, she needed John. Scooting over on the bed, pain shot through the bones of her ribs to her chest, but she held it in. Looking up with round eyes, she asked, “Would you lie next to me?”
Don’t say no … Don’t say no …
John contemplated her request with a tilt of his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You would only hurt me if you didn’t lie with me.”
The tips of his mouth quirked up to a half smile, the dimple near his chin making an appearance and she smiled. John took his shoes off and climbed into bed next to her. He moved in close, but worried about her not having enough space to move. Lifting his arm, he wrapped it around her shoulders and said, “Come here, honey,” and held her closer. He rubbed her shoulder, trying to help ease her discomfort. Alyssa rested her head on his chest, sighing as she did. Her whole body went lax as she softened against him.
For the first time in months, Alyssa was able to fully unwind without the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was safe and at ease, all because of John.
Releasing an exhausted sigh, she felt herself sinking back to sleep. He was the one person she could rely on through thick and thin, she felt it in her heart. If only she had followed her intuitions from the beginning perhaps she wouldn’t be in the predicament she was in now. And didn’t that just hurt?
Evening light filtered through the shades, the fan was on as high as possible cooling her overheated body. She could see the tip tops of the trees mixed in with the yellowish orange sunset. The blend of colors brought a little smile to her face. She loved the sunset.
Alyssa was actually released from the hospital later that afternoon after much pleading and begging. If her baby was okay, why did she need to stay there?
“You can stay in here with me,” she said, getting under the comforter in John’s bed. “There’s no reason why we can’t share a bed.”
“No, I can’t.”
“Why not?” she pushed.
His hard eyes bore into her. “Because I don’t want to?”
“Oh,” she said dejectedly. Her eyes drifted away and she scooted under the sheets. She thought it was because he didn’t want to hurt her, but not wanting to sleep next to her was a different story. It hurt having him deny her when she craved his contact most. Especially now.
John would be leaving soon and the thought of him gone again left a gaping hole in her chest. Alyssa needed to toughen up, she knew she did, but it wasn’t easy. She was relying on him emotionally and he didn’t even know it. She was only setting herself up to fall in the end.
“How are your ribs?” John asked, standing in front of his bed. “Do you have a headache or anything?”
“I’m fine.”
A tick worked in John’s jaw. “Alyssa, now is not the time to be tough. If something hurts, I need to know.”
“I never said I was trying to be tough,” she whispered, her gaze drifting to his. “I’m fine.”
“You have black and blues on your face that makeup can’t even cover up, and your ribs are pretty fucked up. Why do I have a notion that you’re lying?”
She said nothing. The bruises were still very fresh and her body ached, but she didn’t complain.
“Fine,” he mocked. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”
Like she would call for him when he clearly didn’t want to be bothered. His sudden change in attitude puzzled her.
Alyssa tossed and turned all night trying to find a comfortable position. She was stressed to the max, unsure of where to go or what to do. She couldn’t stay at the Jackson’s house forever. Come hell or high water, she would figure it out. She had no choice at this point, but how would she when she only had her savings account to fall on? Granted, she saved every penny while working at Roxie’s, but eventually that would be drained.
Her body was beginning to relax, muscles loosening up as sleep was getting ready to take over, again. John’s bed felt like she was sleeping on clouds. Her eyes grew heavy. Just as they were about to roll shut, she heard the door creak open. John stepped into his room in nothing but shorts. He headed for his dresser, unaware that she was watching him. Alyssa’s mouth ran dry at the sight of him, all muscle and beauty. His skin was the shade of honey. She wanted to reach out so badly and run her hand down his back and over his firm shoulders. She wanted those strong arms wrapped around her, making her feel safe and wanted.
“Hey,” she said quietly.
John spun around. “Jesus. I thought you were sleeping.”
Her adorable smile carried through the darkened room. “Can’t sleep. What are you doing?”
John stiffened. His gaze traveled the length of her body. Even pregnant with a child that might not be his, Alyssa was still beautiful to him. He wanted to scoot under the covers, tangle her legs with his and hold her to him, kiss her plump lips and look deep into her sleepy eyes and promise her the world. He would give her everything, if he could.
Alyssa wore a tiny little white tank top—no bra. He could see the outline of her nipples, the dark pink showing through that begged for his mouth. And her perky, fuller breasts that threatened to spill over the top. His hands itched to caress them, to bring them to his mouth and kiss them gently. He wanted to bring her pleasure, joy, bliss, and knew that she probably hadn’t had any in a long time.
But that wasn’t happening. So all he could do was go for a morning run to burn off the steam.
“I’m going for a run. Go back to sleep.”
Alyssa’s smile vanished and the hurt in her eyes was felt across the room. Her chest deflated, just like his did as she turned, giving her back to him. Why was he being such an asshole? He never meant to treat her like shit, it was the last thing she needed. Alyssa’s shoulders were tight as she wrapped his blanket around her little body, the tension clear as day. John’s stomach ached knowing she was hurting, but he pushed it away and slipped on his shirt. His morning run was an absolute must right now. The steam he needed to blow off was mounting,
the pressure building on him to make it all right when he didn’t even know where to start.
Nearly two hours later, John was home, showered and cleaned from his run. It was nearly seven in the morning and he’d barely had any sleep at this point. He pumped his legs until they burned. John learned to channel his anger and frustration in the Marines. He’d only been part of the corps for a short time, but he felt like he owed them so much more.
Stepping into his room, Alyssa hadn’t moved from the spot he last saw her in. She’d fallen back asleep in his bed—and he was glad. The bags under her eyes were a deep purple and her skin took on a pale white with yellow coloring in the areas Ben hit her.
Walking over to his bed, he dropped the shirt in his hand and lifted the covers. Alyssa was balled up in a fetal position, her little feet peeking out under her rear. As much as he shouldn’t do it, John climbed in his bed and curled up behind her. He mimicked her position, spooning her. He slipped one arm under her pillow, the other over her stomach and held her. Mmmm … she was warm to the touch and he curled into her. Shit. Was it okay to lay his arm on her like this? Would it hurt her? Alyssa stirred, cuddling into him, filling every space with her lush body. He loved the few pounds she put on. It took all of him not to run his hand down her side and over her hip to her thigh and grip it in his hand.
This was a stupid move for him to get into bed with her. His cock hardened as it pressed against her. When was the last time he got laid? Oh, right … just before Jace’s funeral … with Alyssa. He needed a good lay, but he couldn’t imagine sleeping with anyone else other than her. She owned him completely and didn’t even know it.
A little moan escaped her lips when she said, “Johnny?” in the huskiest voice he’d ever heard.
Bringing him out of his thoughts, Alyssa ran her hand over his hand. She laced her fingers through his, sliding their hands to settle between her heavy breasts.
Yeah. Stupid, stupid move on his part.
Stifling a groan, John said, “Shhh … I’m here,” then softly kissed her shoulder blade. She nodded in return, her mass of blonde locks were pulled up high above her head bearing her neck. Alyssa nuzzled her head into his arm, her hair brushing against him and pressed a light kiss to his bicep and then fell back asleep.
It took some time, but John eventually nodded off to sleep with his girl in his arms.
Sometime later, Alyssa roused. She was over tired, her body tight and sore. Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head and straightened her legs … feeling another set of legs. Her heart stopped for a minute.
What the–
Opening her eyes, John was before her, watching her intently. When had he crawled into bed with her? The last she remembered he was going for a run.
“Mornin’,” he said. “Or good afternoon?” A brow lifted at the same time his smile made an appearance. They were face to face, bent at the knees only inches apart.
Covering her mouth, she yawned again. “What are you doing here?” His brows furrowed, confused at her question. “I just mean, you didn’t seem too keen on talking to me before yet you’re here now.”
“I had a lot on my mind.”
“Care to elaborate?”
Looking down at her stomach, he ignored the question and asked her one. “May I?” with his hand raised.
Alyssa took a deep breath and nodded. She wasn’t used to anyone wanting to touch her stomach before, but John asking melted her heart.
Cautiously, John rested his hand on her expanded tummy, moving slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was bring her pain.
“It’s okay … you can push a little …” She placed her hand over John’s showing how far he can press. As she did, a kick pushed through and John pulled his hand away, startled from it. Alyssa chuckled at his wide eyed expression.
“Whoa! Does he always kick like that?”
“That was nothing. He’s only getting warmed up,” a timid smile tipped her lips. Reaching for John’s hand, she placed it back on her stomach. They both waited for another kick to come through.
“Wow. That’s crazy! It’s pretty amazing, actually.”
Alyssa stared at John’s face as he touched her belly, exploring every inch with his touch. She loved that he was curious about her belly. Ben never was. It was like he couldn’t stand to look at it.
Would he be in awe of his first step? His first bite of food?
Would he even be around? Alyssa’s smile faltered.
John brought his hand to her face. He lifted her chin until her gaze reached his. “What are you thinking about?”
She shrugged. “Nothing.”
“Don’t lie.”
“It’s nothing I want to talk about right now.” Alyssa brought his hand back to her stomach. “Please?” she asked. She loved that he wanted to touch her belly.
As much as he wanted to push for an answer, he didn’t. So John did as she asked, he felt around her stomach … And it was incredible. The way it grew, how it expanded each day to hold a baby. John had never really given it much thought until now, but it was pretty damn cool. His fingers grazed the seam of her shirt. Taking a chance, he slipped his fingers under just a bit.
Without having to ask, Alyssa lifted her shirt, baring her tummy. Her heart pounded against her ribs, scared at what John would think about her overstretched skin.
“Alyssa,” he whispered. “I have no words. Does it hurt?” he asked, staring at her belly, perplexed.
“No, I don’t really feel it growing. Some days it itches and that’s how I know, but typically I don’t feel anything.”
“What does it feel like?”
She chuckled. “Like I swallowed a giant watermelon.”
“A watermelon that kicks?” he joked, a brow raised.
“I guess,” she laughed.
“I think he’s break dancing,” John said. “He has better moves than me.”
“Oh, yeah? Still set on a boy?”
He looked deep into her eyes. “You know it.”
“What would you name him?”
John paused. The first name that came to mind was Jace, but he didn’t say it. Just uttering his name caused an ache in his chest.
“Dexter.”
“Dexter? Like that serial killer show?” she asked, appalled. “And call him Dex? Not a chance.”
“Travis?”
“No way.”
“What’s wrong with Travis?”
She shrugged. “I just hate that name. It’s ugly. How about Albert?”
His face dropped and she chuckled. “Alyssa, don’t you dare …”
“You don’t like it? Albert Winters?” She asked sweetly, and he almost agreed.
“No, it sounds stupid. What about Mason?”
She puckered her lips together. “Mason I could do, but then I’d always think of Mason jars so I guess I can’t.”
“How about Dierks? Like the country singer? He’s incredible.”
“A country—”she stopped to regain her composure. “John—I just can’t. Not happening.” No way was she naming her kid after some country singer she never heard of.
“Kip?”
“Is that another country singer?”
His lips formed a tight thin line. He tried to hide his smile but it was useless. John laughed and said, “You should see your face right now.”
John was purposely provoking her. He had to be. There was no way he could be serious. “You want to name my kid after a country singer?” she said, horrified. “Since I’m carrying him for nine months, I should be able to pick the name. How about Ethan?”
John looked at the ceiling. “I could do Ethan. I like that name,” and Alyssa smiled.
“Or we could name him Kayne …”
Alyssa’s eyes thinned, glaring daggers at John. She opened her mouth to speak, but John burst out laughing. “I’m just playing with you.” She laughed and then playfully pushed John. He grabbed her wrist and held it to his chest. It was so hard for him to keep his hands off of her.
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“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing?”
“Liar.”
“Come here,” he urged. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
Silence enveloped them, and the only sound in the room was the spinning fan. Her breathing deepened. She scissored her legs, trying to play it off as if she was just moving into a new position, but the truth was his touch lit a fire inside of her. His fingers trailed her hips and close to her butt and a sigh rolled off her lips. John scooted closer to her and continued.
“Feel good?” he asked.
Her eyes rolled shut. “Yes,” was barely above a whisper. She shouldn’t like his touch right now, but she did. She craved it.
John grabbed for her thigh and hiked it up over his hip. Alyssa was wearing small shorts. What had she called them? Boy shorts? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was feeling every inch of her skin and making her feel good and seeing her smile. In spite of their current situation, she still got under his skin.
Trailing his fingers along her waist and down her hips, he traced past her shorts to her sex, and she took a deep breath, inhaling loudly … and Those. Damn. Breasts. Rose. High. A groan reverberated in the back of his throat and she grabbed his wrist.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, hoarsely.
Opening her sleepy eyes, she said, “No. Your touch relaxes me.”
“Then why did you stop me?”
“Because your touch is a lot to handle right now.”
John paused, slightly confused. “Is that a good thing or bad thing?”
Alyssa smiled shyly. “It’s a good thing.” She nuzzled closer to John, burrowing her head in the curve of his shoulder. She inhaled and sighed, draping an arm over John’s stomach and slipping her leg between his. Safe. It’s the first thing that popped in her head. She felt safe and secure in his arms.
“Your touch feels incredible,” she said huskily. John continued running his nails gently down her side, over her shoulder and down her back, repeating the motion. He drew closer and his lips grazed hers.
Alyssa froze.
Pressed against her lips, he asked, “Why are you holding back?”
“Because … Because as much as I love how it feels, I think you should stop,” she responded breathlessly. It was a partial lie. She loved his touch, but she wasn’t right inside. She didn’t want pity kisses and she feared that’s what she would get. Alyssa had gotten herself into her current situation and she would get herself out.