SHEIKH'S SURPRISE BABY: A Sheikh Romance

by Knight, Kylie

  "No!" Shawna wailed. The rejection sounded childish, but it was all she could muster. Ben's fingers were digging into her wrist so deep they threatened to cut. What had come over him? This wasn't the man she'd known.

  "Yes," he spat. "Stop being a child, stop being selfish and immature, and think of someone else for once. This is for what's best for both of us. We're going to be successful together, and I'm not going to hear anything else from you."

  And just like that, skinny, business driven Ben tugged her into his arms and kissed her lips so hard they bruised. Try as she might, Shawna could not find the strength to pull away from him; Ben's arms had locked around her, and he was not willing to relinquish his hold. Squirm and pry as she might, she was stuck with him. The fear of what he might do to her grew more real by the second.

  But before Ben could drag her anywhere, a noise ripped down the alleyway. The purr of an engine and the squeal of brakes broke the silence, and Ben cast her aside so Shawna hit the brick wall to see what it was.

  "Who the fuck are you?" Ben demanded, temper flared.

  "Name's Clark," Clark growled as he hopped from his idling bike. "But names should be the least of your worries right now. Let go of Shawna, and I won't crush you like the slimy bug you are."

  "This," Ben said wildly, near insane, "this is the joker next door, isn't it? That guy who so 'innocently' walked you home that one time. You think I'm bad, Shawna? How long has this shit been going on? At least I'm putting your future first instead of sneaking around behind your back seeing other woman. Less then two weeks and you're traveling with him out of the country? Don't think I'm stupid!"

  "Nah, I don't think you're stupid," Clark rumbled, approaching on heavy footsteps until he was right up in Ben's face. "I know you're stupid. You've got one more chance — leave Shawna alone, or I will make you wish you never left home."

  Dazed and scared, Shawna pressed herself against the brick and watched the man she once loved and the man she refused to love fight over her. Since she'd met him, Clark had been flirty, but she knew he was a womanizer. All this time, had he been making sincere advances? Did she mean more to him than a casual hookup?

  "Ragged hobos don't scare me," Ben spat back, nose to nose with Clark. But Clark was no hobo, and Shawna knew that he was the type of man who would make good on his word. Before the last word had escaped Ben's mouth, Clark pushed him back with sudden intensity and slammed his fist into Ben's face. To Shawna's surprise, Ben didn't cry out — instead, he stumbled back a few steps before collapsing to the ground, out cold. Clark shook his fist out once, glared at Ben's unconscious body though narrowed eyes, then turned to look at Shawna.

  "You okay, blondie?" he asked. All Shawna could do was nod as small sobs broke through the silence between them. What had just happened had been terrifying and life-altering. The two biggest masculine forces in her life had shown their true colors, and the reversal was drastic. Clark had come to her rescue when Ben had sought to harm her and force her into what she didn't want. Shawna ran the back of her hand beneath her eyes to wipe away the tears and tried to settle down. Before she could pull her arm away, Clark had drawn her into his arms and away from the wall to stroke her back.

  "Shit, if you actually needed me to hold your hand, you could have said something," he whispered in her ear. "I bark for the hell of it, but I'm not heartless. Shawna, I don't want to see you hurt. Whoever this joker is, whatever your history is with him, I'll make sure he doesn't bother you anymore. No one is going to mess with you and get away with it, not when I'm at your side."

  Just like their first night outside the lobby of their apartment building, Shawna felt her pulse race. Downy softness enveloped her, and she allowed her head to fall forward and rest upon his broad shoulder. The smell of leather and tobacco clung to him, intoxicating and vivid. Beneath it, the scent of cedar and musk. Somehow, despite his grungy lifestyle, Clark always managed to smell good.

  "Thank you," she mumbled against his shoulder. Like a kitten at the mercy of a bulldog, Shawna knew she depended on him at a fundamental level. Clark only treated her with respect and care.

  "Let's get you back to the motel," he whispered, drawing away slowly so she had time to react and steady herself on her feet. "You hold on tight. Everything's going to be okay."

  The tough exterior had eroded to reveal Clark's soft side, like matter exposed to concentrated acid. The carefree, gruff, my-way-or-the-highway man she'd left the States with had given way to a man who obviously cared a great deal for her. As upset as she was, Shawna couldn't help but smile.

  "I know. Thank you. Thank you for looking out for me as you have."

  Before Clark had a chance to turn, Shawna reached out and took his hand loosely in hers. The contact, although innocent, was intimate. There was no mistaking the affection in it. Clark glanced down to her hand, then up to catch her gaze with hers. Shawna blinked away the last of her tears, still holding onto the small smile that had sprouted from the seeds of his kindness.

  "It's uh," Clark, loud mouthed and opinionated, was lost for words. Some of the harsh lines faded from his face as their eyes maintained a locked gaze. "It's something I wanted to do. Needed to do."

  "Like I need to do this."

  A side alley in one of the most beautiful cities she'd ever seen with her ex's unconscious body just feet away wasn't where Shawna thought she'd be when it happened, but there was no more holding back. With a slow tilt, she closed the distance between her lips and Clark's, standing on the tips of her toes to give herself the tiny boost of height necessary to do so. The last thing Shawna saw as she closed her eyes was Clark's sparkling blues drooping closed as well. The kiss they shared was sweet and sincere, the bad boy momentarily subdued, like a dog gnawing at a steak. Clark's lips were dry and harsh, but the touch of them still sent shivers down her spine.

  When at last the kiss broke, Shawna drew back and lowered herself back to the flats of her soles. Clark opened his eyes, momentarily silent. His hold on her hand tightened just a little, as though possessive.

  "I think it's going to be a good road trip," he uttered into the modest space between them. Shawna's smile grew.

  "You know," she replied, "I think you're going to be right."

  Epilogue

  From Victoria they made their way across British Columbia. For a while they stopped in the Rocky Mountains and took advantage of the gorgeous scenery and ski opportunities. Days later saw them cross into Alberta and the busy city of Calgary. Each new city breathed life into Shawna and refreshed her sense of adventure. After so long living a frugal, unsatisfactory life, the thrill of the road was the life for her.

  But it was no longer the thrill of the road alone that revitalized Shawna's spirit. In the days that followed their encounter with Ben, the tenderness that had sprung up between Shawna and Clark flourished. Like teenagers wary of being caught together, affection between them was scarce, but sacred. On the snowy slopes of the mountain, Clark had taken her hand without hesitation, only to drop it in confusion when he'd realized what he'd done. Beneath the clear, starry sky of the open plains, Shawna had curled up to his side on a bench just outside of their motel and laid her head upon his shoulder as they star gazed. When movement brought her gaze back to Earth, she found her lips caught up with Clark's, and they had kissed each other with a low simmering intensity that grew hotter by the hour, but never boiled over. Despite their growing desire for one another, Shawna always slept in her own room. Although Clark was one of the most attractive men she'd laid eyes upon, she was not ready to give herself up so easily. All good things would come with time, and her mother had warned her not to let the road steal her heart. If what they had was genuine, she would be just as into Clark when they returned home as she was in Canada.

  And as the month drew to its end and saw them on the road back home, that feeling had yet to fade. On the back of Clark's bike, pressed firm against his core, Shawna lost herself in the pleasures of the road and the scent from his jacket. Warm
memories of his lips haunted her, and when they paused at a rest stop just south of the Canadian border to stretch their legs and use the facilities, Shawna drew him forward by the sides of his jacket and made those lips hers all over again.

  The rest of the drive was uneventful, and it wasn't until they'd stopped outside the apartment complex that Shawna realized her oversight — although she'd worked remotely while in Canada, she hadn't thought to find a new place to live. All of her belongings were in storage, and apart from the clothes on her back, there was nothing she had accessible. Although she could turn to her mother if she found herself in desperate need, she didn't want to burden her any further. Just by cleaning out the apartment while Shawna took off to Canada, she had done more than enough.

  "You know," Clark told her as he dismounted from the bike and pulled off his helmet, "I've never spent a whole month with the same girl before. You're not so bad, blondie."

  Coming from Clark, it was high praise. Shawna set foot on solid ground, stretched, then took her shot. A month with Clark had taught her to be bold. There was no point in dancing around what needed to be said.

  "You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, because I need to ask you a big favor. I kind of don't have any place to stay, and I was wondering if I could stay with you until I find a place of my own."

  The question was a simple one, but the air between them was charged for it. There was no longer a wall between their motel rooms to keep them apart — Shawna knew that what she was asking was for something more. Clark knew it just as plainly.

  "Yeah," he murmured, taking her by the hand. For now, just one matter occupied both of their minds — there was a month of tension and bumbling affections to make good on, and Shawna could wait no longer. "We can do that."

  Both of them wove up the stairs to Clark's old apartment and deposited their belongings just behind the door once inside. As soon as their bags had hit the floor, one of Clark's hands pushed her against the wall, and his lips met hers with need. There was no mistaking his intentions — both of them were on the same page.

  Beneath the weight of his kiss and the heat of his body, Shawna lost herself. A barrage of scents clouded her senses, and every touch felt electric. The kiss was hard and greedy, but it was perfect. Each moment left her more confident that she'd made the right choice, but when their lips broke, it was Clark who spoke.

  "I got lucky," Clark confirmed in a husky breath. "You're drop dead beautiful, and I'm just a punk with a cocky streak a mile wide."

  "You're more than that," she whispered back, voice wavering from the promise of pleasure they'd share. "You're the man this drop dead beautiful woman wants, so let life lead you and roll with the punches. Let's see what happens."

  A low growl built in the back of Clark's throat, and he took her hand and pulled her through the apartment and to his bedroom. The room was small and sparse, but it did its job. The bed was more than big enough for two, and as piled with blankets and pillows as it was, there would be no shortage of comfort.

  But sleep wasn't what was on Shawna's mind.

  With Clark there were no promises, no stability, and yet she was not terrified. Following their month abroad and the good and bad of the adventure they'd shared, Shawna knew she was ready for life as she'd never been before. Clark pressed hot kisses down her neck, and one by one as they stood before the bed, they stripped free from their garments. Clark's nude body was as gorgeous as she had imagined, and Shawna couldn't wait to get to know it even better.

  Another round of heated kisses melted her, and as a couple they sank onto the bed. Clark's broad, firm hands directed her and touched her in ways Ben's never had, and even without penetration, Shawna knew exquisite delight. Low, curt grunts from him were accented with her high, breathy trills of pleasure. The moments they had shared in Canada had promised wonders, and Clark did not disappoint.

  Tens of minutes ticked by where they simply kissed and touched, but when Shawna was slick beyond belief, and Clark's body ready to give her pleasure, he did not hesitate. As though they had been born to fit with each other, Clark maneuvered over her and slipped into her depth without struggle. A mutual, breathy sigh escaped each of them, and Clark began to move in earnest. It wasn't long until he found the spot inside of her that made her cry out in delirious pleasure, and he invested everything he had to hit it again and again.

  Each act progressed naturally, and it wasn't until Shawna felt his body hardening further inside of her that she thought of what it was they were doing. Clark's end was approaching, and without adequate protection, Shawna knew the risks.

  "I-If you don't pull out, I might get pregnant," she warned him, the words caught in her throat from her ecstasy. The tight passages of her sex had begun to tighten in response to his encroaching release, and she felt the dark pleasures of orgasm begin to intensify and spread through her gut. Knowing that it was Clark who was inside of her, driving her to those heights, made it all the better. Ben had never been concerned with her pleasure, and Shawna was eager to finally have a lover who anticipated her needs as well as his own.

  "Whatever happens, happens," Clark uttered. No matter what, he was going to leave his seed inside of her. Shawna found she didn't care — more than that, she wanted it, too. Clark was her wild man, her bad boy, and now that she'd turned over a new leaf, she wanted to know her own dangers first hand.

  Clark grit his teeth and breathed out hard as his body pushed into her one last time. The heated warmth of their passion filled her sex — Clark, the dark, sexy man next door, had taken her raw and coated her insides with his seed. Shawna had never felt hotter. The first sinful pulses of pleasure rippled through her, and Shawna closed her eyes and threw her head back. Clark had done this to her. Clark had brought her to new places, had brought her to see new sights, and now had driven her to shattering highs.

  In the aftermath, as he pulled away and swept her up in his arms to kiss her and run his fingers through her hair, she thought he could do no wrong.

  By and large, Shawna was right.

  Everything he did made Shawna feel amazing, and every day following, when he took her without protection, that feeling got better. By the end of the first week back in town, it was clear that she wasn't going to be getting her own apartment, and by the end of the third month they were on the road to Mexico — not to pick up chicks, Clark assured her, nor to spend time apart. There was only one chick he wanted, and she was the one with her arms around his waist on the back of his bike, ready to spend two full weeks in a lavish resort.

  And Clark kept his word. Despite a past filled with freedom and the promise of travel and wild times, he let life happen. With Shawna's foresight and financial responsibility and his spontaneous nature, they eventually made the move into a little house just big enough for what they needed it for — a young family. Shawna's belly had just started to show, and the glow of pregnancy left her more radiant than ever. A new type of adventure was about to begin, but Shawna knew that not even parenthood would hold back the wild streak both of them savored so much. A change was what she'd needed, and it was what she got.

  Nothing would ever be the same again, but Shawna didn't regret it. Simplest lives were often the most fulfilling, and now that she'd found her simple pleasures she'd never let them go.

  THE END

  Chosen By The Billionaire

  Some days, I would just look at myself in the mirror, and I would sigh. I'd always had this feeling like I, and myself as a whole, were just all around too vanilla to be of any interest to anyone or anything, and that I would never be one of those lucky people who figure out what it is that makes them happy in life. It just seemed beyond what I was capable of, like my indecision and my inability to be what other people wanted me to be would be my ultimate pitfall in life, and like there was no redemption for me because of that.

  To put it simply, I'd always been something of a curvier girl, and this had led to a lot of internal debating with myself as to my worthiness. We live in a
time, obviously, where people at least attempt to be more accepting of people despite, and even because of their differences, and in some ways that should have been encouraging to me. But it still didn't do a whole hell of a lot for my confidence for some reason, and honestly, that sort of “universal acceptance” stuff could feel patronizing to me in my insecurity. Like, it was more of a consolation than a comfort. A nice enough sentiment, sure, and probably the way that all people should try to live. But when you really step back and cut out the crap, you can't honestly believe that people won't judge you by your appearance. That's just a fantasy, pure and simple, and if you live your life under the impression that things are really like that, you're basically trying to undermine millennia upon millennia of fundamental human nature.

  Being talked down to, and told to accept traits that I didn't like, was the last thing that I felt that I needed, and I knew that all the rationalizing in the world wouldn't do me a lick of good. The question was, then, whether my curves were really the problem, or if the problem with my life was a lack of self-confidence, whether independent of my physical issues or otherwise.

  On self-inspection, it really did seem like my sensitivities with regard to my appearance were something of an exaggeration- I was actually a rather attractive girl, once I could look around the own obstacles I had set up for myself. I had a roundish, beautiful face, with piercing blue eyes, and eyelashes that fluttered back at me from the opposite side of the mirror. Long chestnut hair flowed down from the top of my head to around my shoulders, framing my button nose and small, delicate lips like a photograph, the combined effect looking not altogether unpleasant, not by any means. Moving down, my breasts were large, round, and firm, a perk, I supposed, of being curvaceous, my dark cleavage deeply cut and tantalizing- the effect, I was sure, the same on a man as it currently was on myself. My curves, I decided firmly, and made myself believe without question, were in all the right places, and as my eyes danced down along them, they seemed to follow a certain tantalizing rhythm, zigging and zagging at just the right moments, and nearly making my head spin as I at last landed down at my waist, and I had to take a moment's rest before continuing.