GRIZ: A Dark Bad Boy Romance (Chained Angels MC)

by Nicole Fox

  Francesca opened her mouth to assure him she had no such plans, but he was kissing her already, his lips hungry and his hands pulling her closer. Finding him so close again was like stepping into a bonfire; the heat started low in her belly and spread out to every corner of her body, setting wildfires as it spread.

  The brush of fingers across her belly was hesitant and gentle. Logan stepped back, admiring the bump that hadn’t been there last time they were together. It was small, but steadily growing. Logan’s chocolate eyes grew large and beautiful as he got to his knees, leaning forward to press his lips to her stomach. A smile spread across her mouth, tears touching the edges of her eyes as she laid her hands over his head.

  “Beautiful,” Logan whispered, his arms coming to wrap around her body. There was a note of awe in him that lit her up from the inside, the feeling of lust and devotion and love spreading across every inch of her.

  “I love you, Logan,” she whispered in return, but those words couldn’t even begin to scratch the surface of how deep her feelings for Logan went. And for the first time, she didn’t try to hide them from herself. No, she was going to give herself over to Logan completely. She was going to stay with him, and her heart was so sure she was making the right decision.

  Running her fingernails through his very short hair, Francesca looked down at her man, a wicked smile on her pretty face. “I don’t suppose there’s a chance you would like to join me in the shower, is there?” she said, winking. The fire of her lust was going a long way to burning away the cold from outside, but Logan’s body and the hot warm would speed up the process considerably.

  And Logan’s body was exactly what she wanted right then.

  Peeling his clothing from his beautiful body, Logan watched her, his eyes darkened with lust and wicked promises that made Francesca shiver all over. Her body trembled with desire as she watched him strip his clothes off slowly, teasing her with little bits of sun-kissed flesh. Nearly drooling, Francesca locked her eyes on his perfect body, her eyes tracing the sexy outlines of his beautiful tattoos. “God, he’s beautiful.”

  Logan tossed his shirt aside, leaving him naked before her. Francesca’s eyes slipped down to his mighty cock, her tongue flicking out to wet her lips. She remembered what that perfect dick felt like inside of her body, and she was dripping with anticipation of feeling it again. Several months of unhappy celibacy had starved her, and she was staring down the only feast that had ever completely sated her.

  Picking her up off the cool tile floor, Logan carried her into the steaming water. The warm water caressed her body, tingling and hot against her still-cold skin. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Francesca kissed him, feeling the water trickle down both of their bodies like the caress of a million fingers.

  “I can’t wait any longer, Logan. Just take me, please.” She looked deeply into his eyes, her own pleading and filled with desire. “I just want you inside me; it’s been too long.”

  Lips hungrily devouring her own, Logan pressed her back against the shower wall, setting her down on the handicapped railing in the shower stall. The head of his cock caressed her wet opening, exciting a cry from her lips that shook them both.

  “Don’t make me beg, Logan — ” she started. But then he slid inside of her, the soft skin of his dick rubbing every inch of her sensitive walls. Complete. She was complete with him buried inside of her, all the way to the hilt. How had she forgotten what it was like to feel the other half of her soul press inside of her body?

  How could she have forgotten?

  Digging her nails into his shoulders, Francesca held on, her body crying out for more as Logan slid in and out of her body with slow, sensual movements. Inside of her, he was impossibly large, filling her body until there was no room left for thought. There was room inside of her for nothing else but the overwhelming waves of pleasure that already threatened her edges.

  He slowly ramped up his speed, pumping inside of her in slow, easy movements that touched every spot she wanted to be touched, caressed every nerve, and echoed through her whole body like an earthquake. The water streamed down her body like tongues as Logan’s lips mingled gloriously with her own. Her heart shuddered violently inside of her body at the pent up emotions, at the heat between them. Gasping for breath, Francesca could do nothing but hang on and moan, her voice echoing inside of the nearly empty bathroom.

  Her first orgasm ripped through her without warning, and she clawed at him, throbbing and aching with vicious pleasures. And as she came down off of the shivering high of that thunderous storm of pleasure, her eyes met Logan’s mocha ones. And they were filled with a look she knew all too well.

  This was going to be a long night of giving and receiving pleasure, and Francesca shivered with anticipation.

  # # #

  Logan

  Logan was in awe. Not only was this woman the love of his life and the most beautiful woman in the world, but she was carrying his child. The thought excited him in a way he couldn’t describe; she was so beautiful and perfect like this.

  Her head was thrown back, her voice ragged with crying out his name as he knelt before her, his tongue buried in her sopping pussy. She tasted just how he remembered, and her cries got him just as high as they always did. It was like coming home as he slipped two fingers inside of her body, watching with wicked joy as she thrust against him, her voice reduced to a pleasured mewl in the back of her throat. The water from the shower poured down her breasts which were taut with desire.

  Looking starved, Francesca pushed him back standing on wobbling legs as Logan ended up out of the shower and on the floor. With a quick swipe, she turned off the water. Then, the soaking wet Francesca stared down at him, her eyes on fire. “My turn,” she whispered, her voice almost unrecognizable under the thick coating of desire.

  Straddling him, Francesca slid her silky body over his cock with a wicked, perfect little smile. He loved it when she rode him, loved it when he could watch her move on top of him, watch himself pierce her body.

  Francesca looked down at him, her wet, blonde hair curling around her beautiful face. She moaned, grinding against his hips as she fondled her own breasts, riding him hard. Her skin was wet, beads of water dripping down every line of her perfect body. She rode him, biting her lip as her womanhood gripped him hard, the wet, silky inside of her pussy holding him tight.

  The inside of her felt like a furnace, a burning, fiery thing that seemed to hold him hostage.

  Grinning, Logan grabbed Francesca’s hips and sat up, rolling her into his arms as he picked her up off of the bathroom floor and into his arms. Carrying her as she giggled with delight, Logan dumped her unceremoniously onto the bed and mounted her from behind. He wanted to ride her hard, and this was her favorite position. Determined to make her cum as many times as possible, Logan slid inside of her body again.

  Setting a punishing rhythm, Logan slid inside of her body again and again, listening as she cried his name over and over again like a prayer. Filling her body up with his cock, Logan ground hard against her, wanting more than anything in the world to watch her orgasm, to cum inside of that perfect, beautiful body. He wanted to please the woman he loved, and feel the thunderous ache of her orgasm wrap tightly around his cock.

  So they moved together, their rhythm and pace like song as Logan slid in and out of her. The perfect music that made the world around fade away into nothing, a music that shuddered through both of their bodies in a slow, beautiful build up to a massive crescendo. They came together in the end, their bodies sweating and dripping wet and spent and happy. Logan wrapped his arm possessively around Francesca’s perfect body.

  They lay there, panting, carelessly wrapping the covers over their quickly cooling bodies. After a few moments of stillness, Francesca fell asleep in his arms. Logan was quick to follow her into dreams, his left hand lying protectively over her swollen belly.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Francesca

  “Hey, Logan! The show’s on!” Fra
ncesca called, settling down on her all white couch with a huge bucket of popcorn. “You’re going to miss our triumph!”

  Francesca was heavy with their baby; her stomach was so big that she could balance the popcorn bowl on it like a table. Pregnancy hadn’t slowed her down one bit; Diamond Savoy was still thriving under her care, and she even supervised and did a good part of the work putting Baby Lenny’s room together.

  Life was good in the little white mansion out in the middle of the desert. The solid white kitchen was filled with the delightful scent of brewing coffee, but Francesca no longer needed the scent to cheer her up. No, all she needed was her man by her side.

  Logan stepped into the TV room, a frown on his pretty face. “I am so glad you quit the show, Francesca. Having all of those cameras around and seeing myself on TV is super weird. I’m not sure I ever want to do that again.”

  “Eh, the producers are really riding me to do a spin off series with the two of us, did I not tell you?”

  Logan groaned. “And you told them no, right?”

  “Weeeeell — ” Francesca made some more noncommittal noises as Logan groaned. “It wouldn’t be so bad; it would be better than the family show. Just a few episodes and the payoff is huge.”

  Logan made a face, and Francesca felt her stomach flip over at the beauty of that clenched jaw. She curled a little closer to him as he sat down next to her on the couch, careful not to spill the popcorn all over herself. “You already have more money than anyone needs.”

  “I won’t if you keep spending it all on charity, Logan! Someone has to pay for all of those toy drives and cancer charities you keep hosting.” Francesca playfully punched him in the shoulder. The theme for the Savoy show came on, drawing Francesca’s attention back to the TV. She stuffed a big handful of popcorn in her mouth and watched as she and her family danced across the screen and the show started.

  Francesca sighed as the show progressed, showing Logan slide in, pushing Davis out of her life and taking his spot forever. It was a joy to relive some of the moments, not so nice to relive the others. But it was always funny to watch how much the editing changed things. It looked more like a fairytale than the nightmare it actually had been.

  “Ahh, Logan. You saved me from myself. You forced me to break some rules and build the life I wanted instead of the one everyone decided for me.” Logan actually laughed out loud as Francesca punched Davis right in his face, blood spurting dramatically from his nose.

  Love filled up her chest, warming her body through and through. Regardless of what happened next, she was pretty sure she’d chosen correctly.

  The TV show swiped to Davis’s mugshot, his face looking horribly pale in the photo. “And Davis was sentenced to twelve years in prison.”

  It seemed like a fitting punishment, though his father’s lawyers were working hard to get him out of the time. Perhaps he’d spend a year or two in jail before Daddy swooped in and saved him.

  “I wonder if power and money just makes people crazy.”

  She would have pondered over that thought for a little longer, but then a sharp pain pierced her body, something hot and pressing and urgent filling up her whole mind. She wasn’t sure how, but somehow Francesca knew the baby was coming. “Ahh! Logan!” It was a cry of mingled joy and pain that had Logan turning to her urgently, his face filled with worry. “The baby!”

  Francesca turned to look at him, her mouth turning up in a smile, even as sweat beaded on her forehead. “He’s coming?” Logan asked, his face filled with incredulity.

  “I think so, I — ahh! Call the midwife!” Francesca took a deep breath, picking up the popcorn bowl and setting it to the side. Her water broke, and she knew this was going to happen, with or without help. And soon! “Call her quick!”

  Logan picked up the phone, holding out his free hand to her and guiding her around the couch. It was difficult to stand, to walk, but she managed to inch around the couch and to the downstairs bathroom. “The baby is coming!” she could hear Logan saying, even though the rush of her blood in her ears blocked out most of the sounds around her. “Two weeks early; is that — is it bad?” Whatever the midwife told him over the phone seemed to relax him, the worry lines between his brows smoothing out. “How fast can you get here?”

  Wobbling a little on her feet, Francesca sat down on the edge of the tub just as another wave of pain crashed over her, this contraction slamming hard into her body. It was way worse than anything Little Lenny had done to her so far, including all of the spine kicking, and she felt weaker with every new contraction.

  “Is this how it’s supposed to feel? Oh, God, what if something is wrong?” Sweat beaded on her face as she sat there, contemplating the moving, squirming thing inside of her belly. “Baby Lenny, please be alright.”

  After an eternity and three new contractions, each one worse than the last, the midwife and her team finally showed up. Martha, the head midwife, was all matter-of-fact, bringing in with her a small army and more supplies than Francesca could fathom. “Good thing this bathroom’s really big.”

  “Alright, young lady,” the midwife said, snapping some rubber gloves into place on her hands. “Let’s get you out of your clothing, carefully, and into the tub. Logan? Please fill the tub with warm water.”

  Feeling a little light headed from the pain, Francesca held onto the woman’s hand as hard as she could while her assistants stripped Francesca’s clothing from her aching body. “There’s a good girl, Francesca,” the nurse’s assistant whispered, smiling at her. “The water will help to relax you and keep you from needing as much pain medication. Are you ready?”

  “I think this baby is coming whether I’m ready or not,” Francesca whispered back, trying to smile at the woman. All she managed was a pained grimace.

  Logan was right by her side as she was lowered into the water, his hand locked around her hand. “I’m right here,” he said, a forced smile on his beautiful, perfect face.

  Francesca cried out a little as the pain in her grew. “Stay right here, so I can see you,” she answered, clutching his hand so hard she could feel his bones grinding in his hand. But her brave, beautiful Logan didn’t even wince.

  No, he would always be there for her, no matter what.

  # # #

  Logan

  For Logan, the whole experience was grueling and unnerving. It hurt every inch of his body not to be able to do anything whenever Francesca cried out in pain. He seemed to feel echoes of her pain throughout his own body. But there was joy in her, too; he knew how excited she was to meet her son.

  Logan, although Francesca had worked hard to convince him otherwise, was nervous. He had a million questions about being a father, about being ready, and no one had been able to answer any of them. “How will I know I’m ready? What happens if my son doesn’t like me? What if, what if, what if?”

  But now he had no more time to wonder; this was happening, no matter if he was ready or not. So he did what he could, standing close to Francesca, fetching her whatever she asked for, and waited. As the contractions came closer and closer together, Logan got more and more nervous. Luckily for him, the midwife and her helpers were completely calm. They kept telling him that everything was going well, everything was fine. And he tried hard to believe them.

  It took several hours that felt like days for the baby to make an appearance, and then several more hours before the baby was delivered.

  There were no cameras to document the moment, no paparazzi, and no producers. But Logan knew it didn’t matter; this time would be seared into his memory for the rest of his life. He didn’t need the cameras.

  With a cry, Logan’s son entered the world.

  After a moment, the midwife handed Logan the tiny bundle that was his child. “Lenny?” Logan asked, his eyes looking down at the tiny, crying, squirming little thing that was so warm and welcome in his arms. The baby seemed to fit in the cradle of his arms so perfectly. He was strong, his fingers gripping Logan’s hard as he yawned for the
first time.

  The little boy had a shock of black hair on his head, making him look so much like Logan himself that he had to smile. Something broke in him as he looked down at that perfect little face, so wrinkled and pink. This little creature was his son. It all seemed too hard to take in; none of it felt real yet. But then the boy in his arms wriggled just a little and Logan’s heart filled with a kind of light he’d never felt before.

  Francesca groaned a little from her throne of pillows as the midwife checked her out. She blinked at him with exhausted green eyes, her face pale and beaded with sweat. But in spite of all of that, Francesca was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.