Who's Your Daddy?
Page 27
And even though he was out of my sight, all my other senses were equally tuned to him as they were to her. Whenever he groaned or swore or grunted, I forgot how to breathe. When he leaned close enough, his sharp, rapid exhalations cooled the sweat between my shoulder blades, and his fingers dug into my hips as he fucked me deep and hard like he knew I loved it.
Carmen let go of the sheets and put her hands over her breasts. At first I thought it was to keep them from bouncing as much, but then she pinched her nipples, and her pussy clamped down hard on my cock.
I lost all sense of time and anything that might have existed beyond the three of us. Donovan was deep inside me, I was deep inside Carmen, and ecstasy didn’t even begin to describe it. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my knees threatened to buckle. I didn’t care if they did. As long as Carmen kept rolling her hips, and Donovan kept thrusting into me, and she kept making those helpless sounds while he kept panting and swearing, I just didn’t care.
Carmen gasped, and Donovan and I both moved faster, our hips moving in perfect synch as I drove into her and he drove into me and oh God, I wasn’t going to last much longer like this.
Donovan’s hand left my hip, and a second later, reappeared on my shoulder. Then the other hand did the same. He groaned and, digging his fingers into my shoulders, fucked me harder. In turn, I fucked Carmen harder. She screwed her eyes shut. She kept one hand on her breast, her fingers still pinching her nipple to the point it must have been painful. Her other hand slid between us, and I knew the moment she found her clit because her pussy tightened again.
I closed my eyes and lost myself in her. In them. In everything the two of them did to me. In her crescendoing whimpers that became cries. In the way she struggled to breathe just as much as I did, and the way he released sharp, uneven breaths onto my sweaty skin.
Then, Carmen surrendered. Her hips bucked, her pussy squeezed my cock, and when she let go of a delirious sob, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I thrust even as the world spun around me and my legs turned to liquid, and as Carmen’s cries fell away, mine took their place. When mine faded, Donovan roared, shuddered and collapsed against me.
I leaned over on my shaking arms. Donovan rested his forehead on the back of my neck. Carmen put a trembling hand over her eyes. None of us spoke. None of us moved. The air still crackled with the electricity of our chain reaction orgasms, and my nerve endings tingled beneath my sweaty skin.
Eventually, someone must have moved. Donovan pulled out. So did I. We each grabbed showers, dried off, and slipped into bed together with Carmen in the middle. We’d all cooled off, but it was still warm, so we kicked the sheet out of the way.
“So you guys really want to do this?” she asked.
Donovan propped himself up on his elbow, and absently rested his hand on the gentle swell of Carmen’s belly. “Yes, we really do.”
“We wouldn’t patronize you or anything like that,” I said. “You know that.”
Carmen sighed. “I know. And I never meant to imply you would. I’m just…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I guess I’m forever the pessimist. This was the best possible solution, so it had to be the least likely, you know?”
Donovan laughed. “Oh, ye of little faith.” He kissed her cheek. “Though I guess we never thought we’d find a girl who could put up with both of us, so…” He shrugged with one shoulder.
I chuckled. “Yeah, there is that. We might be more than one woman can handle.”
“Please.” Carmen snorted. “I can keep you two in line.”
I grinned. “Babe, if there’s a man or woman on the planet who could keep us in line, especially him, it’s definitely you.”
“And there’s—” Donovan cut himself off, and his gaze darted to her belly. Then he looked at her. “Was that…?”
She grinned. “You felt it?”
Donovan laughed. “Hell yeah, I did.” Before I could ask, he reached for my hand, and when I surrendered it, he laid my hand where his had been.
A soft flutter beneath my palm sent my heart into my throat.
“That’s…” My mouth had suddenly gone dry. I stared wide-eyed at Carmen. “Is that the baby…kicking?”
“Or somersaulting or something.” She laughed softly. “I swear he’s always active this time of day.”
Donovan and I both raised our eyebrows.
“He?” Donovan asked.
She shrugged. “Just better than ‘it’, don’t you think?”
“When can you find out?” I asked. “The sex, I mean?”
“At any of the next ultrasounds, if the little critter will cooperate.” Carmen chewed her lip. Then she whispered, “Do you guys want to come to one?”
Donovan and I looked at each other and smiled. Then I turned to her, and leaned down to kiss her forehead.
“If you want us to,” I said. “You know you don’t even have to ask.”
“Do you want us to come?” Donovan asked.
Carmen smiled and rested her hand on top of Donovan’s and mine. “Yes, I do.”
Donovan caressed her face with his free hand. “Then we will.” He chuckled. “Can you imagine explaining this to the nurses?”
Carmen laughed. “Oh God. My OB’s been wondering why I’ve been a little evasive about the father. This will, um, answer a few of her questions.”
“You don’t mind her knowing?” I asked. “Or, at least, having reason to suspect a few things?”
“Honestly?” Carmen looked at me, grinning. “I couldn’t give a fuck what she or anyone else thinks.”
I just chuckled, but deep down, I was more than a little relieved. I hadn’t known what to expect when she came over tonight, but now here we were. One way or another, regardless of what the rest of the world thought, we were going to make this work.
And I couldn’t have been happier.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Donovan
After one long, crazy day of responding to calls, everything from a couple of car wrecks to a minor structure fire, I was exhausted. I played on the Xbox with a few of the guys for a while, but when I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore, I gave up and retreated to one of the rooms upstairs to get some sleep. Within minutes, I was out cold.
Then my shrill ringtone jolted me out of a sound sleep. I glanced at the clock beside the bed. It was a little past midnight, and panic shot through me as I fumbled for my phone. I had visions of Carmen calling for help, that something was wrong with the baby, with her, something.
The LCD’s bright screen made me wince, but I finally made out the name on the caller ID: Julia.
“Fuck, what now?” I muttered and slid the phone open. “Hello?”
“Ryan’s gone,” she said, her voice laced with the same panic that still hummed in my veins.
“Gone?” I sat up. “What do you mean, gone?”
“He took my car,” she said. “I told him he couldn’t go out, but he snuck out anyway.”
I rubbed my eyes. “Christ.”
“He’s probably out with that little slut of a girlfriend,” she said. “Any idea where he might have gone?”
I narrowly kept myself from coming back with something snide and impatient. She was worried. This wasn’t a time for us to fight.
“I don’t know,” I said.
“We need to find him.” Her voice shook badly. “Please, Don.”
Heart pounding, I got out of bed. “Do you want me to come get you? Maybe we can both find him.”
“Please. Jeff can watch the kids; they’ll be fine.”
I reached down to pick up my shoes. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
After I’d hung up, I pulled on my shoes, then got up and grabbed my jacket on the way out the door. Walking as quickly as I could down the hall, I speed-dialed Ryan’s number. The phone on the other end rang. And rang. And rang. Cursing under my breath, I hung it up. I couldn’t decide if I was more furious or worried, but all of that could wait. For now, I just needed to find out where he was.
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br /> I shoved the phone in my jacket pocket.
Most of the guys hung out in the lounge, and sharp laughter punctuated the sounds of gunfire and car crashes. I leaned in the doorway.
“Hey, is Jackson around?” I asked the gathered crew. Jackson was in charge since the chief was off duty tonight.
“I think he’s out having a smoke,” Thoman said without looking up from the game.
“Great, thanks.”
I left the lounge and went out to the parking lot where the guys smoked. Sure enough, Jackson was there, halfway through a cigarette.
“Hey,” I said. “Listen, I’ve got a family emergency, I—”
“Go.” He gestured sharply at my car with his cigarette. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
I glanced back toward the firehouse. “But are you guys—”
“We’ve got a full crew tonight,” he said. “You got an emergency, get out of here and give the details to the chief later.”
“Thanks, man,” I said and hurried to my car.
As I drove through the night to get Julia, the city had an eerie atmosphere about it. There were no other cars out on the road. The sidewalks were empty, the windows of all the houses were dark, and even the low volume of the car radio couldn’t chase away the silence. It reminded me of the beginnings of all those horror movies I’d never let Ryan watch when he was little. That ominous stillness that could only mean all hell was about to break loose.
He was most likely okay, I assured myself. If something was genuinely wrong, I’d probably have heard already by way of one of those phone calls no parent ever wants to receive.
Relax, Morris. You’re overreacting.
Odds were, wherever he was, my son was just fine. Probably just hanging out in a friend’s basement or an all-night restaurant.
Probably.
Years as a firefighter had allowed my mind to accumulate a gory, horrifying film reel of possibilities, and no matter how much I tried to think of anything else, that film kept playing in my head. Fires, wrecks, parties getting dangerously out of hand. And it all kept going back to one image that had been seared into my brain for the last seven years.
My crew had responded to a prom-night car crash. There were a few every year, and they were never pretty. This one was bad. Real bad. Group of kids had some drinks, drove too fast and crossed the yellow line. The two drivers were killed instantly. One passenger died on the pavement under flashing red lights. The other three survived, but to my knowledge, at least one of them never walked again.
But the worst part, the part I’d never been able to forget, was when the father of one of the kids showed up. I never knew how he found out, if one of the conscious kids had called their own parents on a cell phone and the message was spread, but somehow, this father caught wind.
In a panic, he’d pushed past the cops and the police line. The commotion had caught my attention, and I’d looked up from extricating his daughter from the crumpled wreckage. I’d looked up just in time to see him at the exact moment he realized what had happened.
The precise moment when he realized his little girl was gone.
In all my life, I’d never heard a more anguished cry, and the man fell to his knees on the glass-covered pavement. Thank God the girl’s face was covered, but her father must have recognized her car. Or maybe he just knew.
Ever since that night, I’d dreaded Ryan’s teen years for more reasons than hormones and attitude. Yeah, my son was probably safely hanging out with his friends tonight just like that girl and her friends had just gone to their senior prom.
I shuddered and kept driving.
Julia was waiting on her front porch when I pulled up. By the time I stopped, she was halfway to the passenger door, and as soon as she was in, I shifted into reverse.
“Any idea where he might be?” I asked.
“No,” she said, pulling her seat belt across her lap. “He didn’t say a word.”
“Did you try calling Kristy’s parents?”
“No, Don,” she snapped. “I just called you and figured I’d let you do all the legwork.”
An equally irritated retort stopped at the tip of my tongue. This wasn’t the time, so I calmly said, “It was just a question, Julia. I just want to find him.”
She exhaled. “I’m sorry. I’m…worried about him.”
“Me too.” I slowed to a stop at an intersection. “Why don’t we start with his friends’ houses and go from there?”
“Good idea,” she said quietly.
In theory, Ryan could have been anywhere, but I was familiar enough with his habits to know a few places to start.
Kristy’s house was dark, and Julia’s car was nowhere to be seen. Jon’s and Vince’s places were dark and quiet. So was Aidan’s. There were a handful of restaurants and twenty-four-hour coffee shops they frequented, and Julia and I checked all of them. Nothing.
Downtown, we scoured the parking garage across from Gameworks twice, and there was no sign of Julia’s car. Still, they could have taken someone else’s, so we parked and went inside.
Julia went upstairs to check the old-school arcade games and air-hockey tables. I went through the bottom floor, the café and the multi-player racing games. No sign of Ryan or any of his friends. When I caught up with Julia on the second floor, she shook her head.
My earlier irritation faded in favor of concern. If I’d have found him at any of his usual haunts, he’d have gotten an earful, but now I wasn’t angry as much as worried. We drove around town, retracing some of our previous steps.
While I drove, worry got the better of me, and I had Julia call around to a few of the local hospitals. Part of me felt stupid for taking that panicked step, but I couldn’t deny the mix of relief and renewed concern every time she told me that no, Ryan Morris had not been admitted to an ER.
After she’d called the last one, she dropped my phone in the cup holder and stared out the window.
We retraced our steps one more time. All the houses were still dark and silent. Julia’s car still wasn’t parked outside any of the restaurants. A third sweep of the Gameworks parking garage and, for good measure, the on-street parking on every surrounding block, came up empty.
At around one in the morning, I muttered, “Shit, I don’t know where else to look. Is there anywhere you think he might have gone?”
She took a deep breath. “Maybe we should try some of the clubs. The ones down in Holden Square.”
“Why Holden?”
“They’re cheap and not very strict about IDs,” she said. “And the kids…”
“What?”
The leather upholstery creaked as she fidgeted. “From what I’ve heard, it’s the place to go for anyone who’s underage that wants to get their hands on booze, E, pot, stuff like that.”
I cringed. My sixteen-year-old? In those seedy, substance-saturated clubs?
“And you didn’t think to mention this before now?” I growled.
“I didn’t think our son would be into that shit,” she threw back. “Unless you know something I don’t?” She glared at me.
“No,” I said. “No, I’m sorry. Let’s just go see if he’s there.”
“It’s okay,” she said softly.
Steeling myself, not sure if I hoped we did or didn’t find him there, I turned down a side street. Neither Julia nor I spoke on the way to Holden Square, which was in one of the less savory parts of town. I tried not to think of all the calls I’d responded to down here. Alcohol poisoning, alcohol-induced brawls, alcohol-fueled crashes. Cars wrapped around telephone poles. Violence between drug dealers or users. This city wasn’t the most dangerous city in the States, but shit happened here just like anywhere else, and I got to see a great deal of it firsthand.
I prayed to God I wouldn’t see any such thing tonight.
“Don.” Julia gestured out the passenger side. I craned my neck, and my heart skipped.
Parked in front of a closed bookstore was her car.
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��Question is,” she said, “where are they?”
“Don’t know.” I glanced at the clock. “But we’ve only got about forty minutes before they close down and kick everyone out.”
“Why don’t you go check the clubs,” she said. “I’ll stay here in case they come back for the car.”
“Good idea.” I parked, and as I started to get out, Julia stopped me.
“Thank you, Don,” she said. “For…”
One foot still out the door, I turned to her. “Julia, he’s my son too.”
“I know, but…” She sighed, avoiding my eyes.
I put my hand over hers. “We’re supposed to work together on these things. It’s just as much my responsibility as yours.”
She looked at me and, after a moment, nodded. “Still…thank you.”
“I’m just glad you called me.” I leaned across the console. “Come here.”
She hesitated, but then met me halfway, and I hugged her for the first time in years.
“Call me if he comes back to the car,” I said softly, still holding on to her. “I’ll let you know if I find him.”
“Okay.” Julia pulled back. “Go. The clubs will be closing soon.”
I handed her my car keys, got out of the car and headed into the cluster of clubs.
The establishments in Holden Square had a deal where a patron could pay the cover for one club, then get into any of the other clubs by flashing their bracelet. At least that made it easier for me to get in and search the clubs.
At the door of the first club, the bouncer stopped me and demanded ten dollars for the cover-charge bracelet. He didn’t, however, ask to see my ID. I hoped to God it was only because I looked well past twenty-one. Or because I was still in uniform.
Bracelet on, I went into the first club. No luck. By the time I’d finished searching the second, frustration had me grinding my teeth and ready to put my fist through a wall. By the third, worry had begun creeping back in. I’d be angry with him later, I told myself. For now, I just wanted to get him out of this place and safely home. I’d been to clubs like these in my younger days. It was no place for a sixteen-year-old.