by Sophie Stern
“I honestly just don’t know,” I should. I can’t afford this place on my own. Our lease is up in two months, so if I don’t find someone by then, I’ll need to move.”
“You don’t want to move.”
“Not really. I can’t explain it. I love it here. I have so many good memories of Bailey here. Isn’t that dumb?”
“It’s not dumb.”
We go into my bedroom and I push the laundry off the comforter into a big pile on the floor.
“Classy, I know.”
“Don’t worry about it. You should see my place.” He winks. He actually winks.
“Aren’t military guys supposed to be all about order and neatness?”
“You might be surprised.”
“Is that so?”
James nods, looks around, then unbuttons his shirt. Slowly, almost teasingly, he undoes each button, revealing a broad, still-muscular chest. The room is dark, lit only by the light in the hallway, but I can still see the scars that cover his chest.
“I’m not pretty,” he comments.
“I think you look great.”
“I have scars,” he motions to his chest and drops the shirt on the ground.
“Everyone does,” I tell him.
“Not like this.” He sits on my bed and pulls his pants and boxers off together, kicks them on the ground. I can see his prosthetic leg now. It’s my first look at it.
“It’s different than I thought it would be.” I reach for it, but pull my hand back, looking at him.
“You can touch it.”
I run my hand over the leg that holds my man upright. I can see where the prosthesis ends and his own skin begins, and I touch the place where they come together.
“Let me show you how it works.” James reaches for his leg and shows me how it comes apart, how it fits carefully over his stump. He removes it and places it beside the bed, then lays back next to me.
He’s got scars. He wasn’t lying about that. They’re all over what remains of his leg. His abs are covered in little scars, but no real big ones. I trace each one, carefully. Then I lean forward and begin to kiss James, showing him attention in a way I would guess he’s never had before.
“I’m not scared of your pain,” I tell him.
“I’m not scared of yours.”
“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” I whisper.
“You told me a lot in the car.”
I blush because I remember. I poured out my royal heart and told him all about my dad leaving, about my classes, about my insomnia. I told him I can’t sleep at night because I’m always thinking about how I need to improve and be better. I told him all the secrets I hide from everyone around me, but that I can’t seem to keep from him.
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” I have to ask.
“I think you’re perfect.”
James holds me in his arms in the silence of my room and I drift off to sleep feeling better than I have in years.
***
“Good morning,” I stretch, yawning, and wrap my arms around James. He kisses me, not worried about morning breath, not worried about any of the things guys normally care about.
“A very good morning,” he murmurs, eyeing my breasts, which are completely bare. The cool morning air has my nipples hard and alert, and I blush as I notice them.
“Oops,” I reach for the blanket, but James grabs my wrist.
“None of that, now. No shyness. No modesty. Not today. Not after last night.”
“Last night was good.”
“Last night was perfect,” he corrects me.
“The only thing perfect here is you.” James is on his side, facing me, but I push him onto his back. Then I straddle him, completely naked. My tits dangle in his face and he reaches up with his mouth and sucks on one nipple while I pinch the other.
I’m reminded of our first date.
I’m reminded of how much I wanted to feel his body against mine. Now I finally have him beneath me, within my grasp, and I’m not going to let him get away this time.
Kissing him, I trace my tongue along his bottom lip, then glance at the clock on my nightstand.
“I have one hour before class,” I tell him. “How fast can I make you come?”
Epilogue: 3 Months Later
Kasey
“Good morning, class,” I stroll into the pole room at Club Kitten. My 5-inch heels click loudly against the floor and my students immediately act like they weren’t just zoning out. That’s fine. They had their rest: now it’s time to work.
And they’re going to be working.
When I took this position as a dance instructor, I didn’t do it for the money or to feel superior. I did it to change lives. I did it to help girls and women with the same passion about dance to learn what they need to in order to succeed.
I did it to help them grow.
“I’m Kasey. A few of you know me, but I also see a couple of new faces here. Welcome to pole class, ladies. Let’s start with some warm-ups. If you have any questions, feel free to raise your hand if you need help. You can also talk to me privately after class.”
I start the music and the atmosphere immediately changes. The tired expressions are gone, replaced with determination, acceptance, strength.
These girls are ready to fight and I’m going to be their leader.
We twirl, we climb, we pose. We dance over and over until our legs are killing and our feet are sore. Then we dance a little bit more.
By the time our class ends, my students are sweaty and, if my eyes aren’t deceiving me, they’re all in at least a little bit of pain. Good. I want them to feel this workout tomorrow. I want them to remember the burn. I want them to keep this in mind all day. No matter what they’re doing, I want them to remember how they felt when they were on the pole.
I want them to remember how they felt when they were flying.
The last student leaves and I slip my heels off. My feet ache, but I ignore the pain as I clean the poles and sweep the room. Once I’m satisfied that everything is to my liking – and, more importantly, to Sassy’s – I head to the locker room and take a shower.
The water washes over me in waves and I think about how much my life has changed in such a short amount of time. My parents would be disappointed to know I’m living with James, but I’m not.
I’m fucking thrilled.
He is, too.
After Bailey left, it just made the most sense. He needed a place to live and I needed a roommate. The fact that we’re dating just made things even better.
The fact that I come home after a long day of classes and a long night of teaching and get fucked by the hottest guy I’ve ever met? That’s just the icing on the cake.
I dry off with my favorite blue towel, then slip into a sundress and head out into the lobby.
“See you later, doll,” Paige waves goodbye from her spot at the front desk and when I step outside, I smile.
He’s here.
James is leaning against his car, legs crossed, wearing the tightest damn jeans I’ve ever seen. If I didn’t know he was an airman, I’d think he was a cowboy at heart. The only thing missing is a good pair of boots. He’s filling out those jeans in all the best ways and I can’t wait to tear them from his body as soon as we’re alone.
“Have you been waiting long?” I ask, hurrying across the parking lot. “It took me a little while to clean up.”
“I’d wait forever for you, Kasey.” James wraps me up in his arms and pulls me close.
Home.
With him I feel home.
He still has his bad days. Sometimes losing his leg seems worse than other times. Sometimes he just needs me to chill and be there for him as he works through this. He’s taken me to physical therapy with him and I’ve met some of the team who helped him learn how to walk again after the explosion.
It amazes me every day just how far James as come. His physical therapist even talked with me about what it was like to start working with James
and even she says she’s amazed with his progress.
My baby’s a fighter.
I kiss him, stroking his cheek. His stubble is rough on my hand, but I don’t mind. I don’t mind anything when it comes to James.
“Let’s go home,” I say. “I need to get you alone.”
“You just want to take advantage of me.”
“I don’t think you mind.”
“I never mind a damn thing when it’s with you, Kasey.”
“I love you.”
“Forever and ever.”
THE END.
About
Sophie Stern writes paranormal and contemporary romance featuring bears, dragons, wolves, and bad boy billionaires. She loves to travel, pole dance, and hang out with her super-sexy ex-military hubby.
Visit her at SexySophieStern.com to join her mailing list, find out about sales, and stay up-to-date on her latest publications.
Honeypot Babies
Do you love shifters? I have a new series launching in September featuring shifters and babies! The first Honeypot Babies book comes out on September 13th and is called The Polar Bear’s Baby. Check out the first two chapters here or pre-order your copy on Amazon today!
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***
Chapter 1
Mia
“Hi Aidan, guess what? You’re going to be a dad.”
No, that won’t do.
It sounds too forced.
It sounds fake.
If I say it like that, he’s going to think it’s some sort of April Fool’s joke gone wrong, so I need to be better than that. I smooth back my dark hair and force a smile on my face. Then I try again.
“Aidan, remember that really crazy night we had two months ago? That was fun, wasn’t it? You know what’s even more fun? Having a baby! Pretty great, right?”
Only I can’t even finish my sentence because I’m rubbing my belly, staring at myself in the mirror, and I’m crying.
Again.
Fuck.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
What was it supposed to be like, then?
There’s a little voice in my head telling me I should have known better, should have done better. I should have been more careful. I should have watched out for something like this.
I shouldn’t have been so reckless.
Now, at 24, I’m about to be a mom.
And I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
I try practicing my speech for Aidan a few more times, but it’s pointless. Eventually, I’m just going to have to go tell him. He has a right to know. I understand he’s not going to want to marry me or even date me, but that’s okay.
This isn’t about me.
It’s about our baby.
I glance over at the little white plastic stick one more time. It could be wrong, but I know it isn’t. Five more are in the trashcan and they all say the same thing: Mia is pregnant.
Knocked up.
Expecting.
Has a bun in the oven.
My brother is going to kill me when he finds out. That’s why I have to tell Aidan first. Aidan knows how to deal with Richard. They were roommates in college, after all. If anyone can help Richard calm down and see reason, it’s Aidan.
Part of me is horrified that Aidan is the father. I know all about the men from Honeypot, Colorado. I’ve heard all the rumors and I’ve heard more than enough from Richard to know sleeping with Aidan was a bad idea.
There’s another part of me, though, that’s relieved it’s Aidan. Aidan is a good man. He’s not going to abandon his child. It’s not the shifter way.
There’s no doubt that Aidan is a shifter. I don’t know what kind. I’ve never had the guts to ask. It’s kind of rude, isn’t it? Just going up to someone and asking, “By the way, what kind of animal are you?”
Still, maybe he’ll tell me now.
Maybe now that we have this connection between us.
I take a few more deep breaths, then head back into the bedroom. It’s time to pack my bags for Honeypot. I have a shifter to find.
***
Two months earlier
“So, do you come here often?” I turn toward the voice and then I look up.
And up.
The tall blonde hottie smiling down at me is freaking gorgeous with bright blue eyes and perfect teeth, but his sexy face isn’t going to make that line not awful.
“Is that the best you can do?” I say, taking a sip of my beer and looking away. I might look bored, but the truth is that I’m completely overwhelmed. When my brother said he was inviting a few of his college and grad school buddies to town to celebrate his 30th birthday, I had no idea just how many of his friends were this good looking.
The man laughs and takes a sip of his beer, but doesn’t leave.
“I suppose that was a bad one, wasn’t it?”
“Uh-huh,” I nod, looking around the bar. It’s a local one I’ve never been to, but that’s not a surprise. I’ve never been much of a drinker. Even going to an out-of-state college couldn’t change that.
Now I’m living in my hometown, working nights at a local diner while I look for something better.
Only, it’s been two years since I graduated, and “better” hasn’t come along yet. Sometimes I wonder if it ever will. At least I have my own place: a little apartment that’s all my own. I don’t have to depend on my parents for anything, which is the way it should be.
I’m an adult, after all.
I keep telling myself that’s the important thing.
Now, as I’m surrounded by my brother’s friends, I’m wondering why I didn’t leave Morris Creek and never come back.
Maybe moving back home was the wrong choice. Maybe it was the easy decision. It certainly worked out for Richard, though. My big brother moved back to Morris Creek, too, only he had a good reason.
He had a job offer.
Now Richard is the town psychologist. Yep. My big brother is the local shrink. Perfect for me, really. I have to work even harder to keep my many issues hidden, but that doesn’t stop him from trying to psychoanalyze me at every turn.
“So, how do you know Richard?” The man asks me, and I realize he’s still looking at me intently.
“I have a boyfriend,” I say, then I hop off my barstool and walk away. It’s only a few steps before I bump into someone. “Oops, excuse me,” I murmur, and start to move past him, but the man laughs.
“That was harsh,” he says. I look up at him.
Fuck me silly.
It’s another tall blonde – how many of them are here? – but this one has the brightest green eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. They look like emeralds.
“I…what?”
He jerks his head toward the bar, where the man I left behind is already sipping a fresh beer.
“You shot him down pretty hard.”
“Oh, well…” My voice trails off as I take in this green-eyed beauty. He has to know he’s completely gorgeous, right? “I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”
Sexypants takes a step forward and looks down at me.
“You’re in a bar, sweetheart. I don’t think he wants to marry you.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I say, only my voice seems to have dried up, and it’s hard to get the words out. Why is he standing so close to me?
“Tell me what you meant, then, darling.” He’s leaning down to my ear now, whispering the words. I should move. He’s being too forward. I should move and leave, but I can’t, and I don’t really want to.
“I don’t want to sleep with him,” I manage to whisper. He probably can’t even hear me over the noise in the bar. My heart is beating a million beats per second. Everything tells me this is a bad idea. I’m talking to a stranger who obviously knows my brother, who is here to celebrate his birthday, who is here having a good time. He’s only here for fun.
He’s not here to sweep me off my feet.
Then again, maybe that’s not what I need rig
ht now. Maybe I don’t think to think so seriously, so deeply about these things. Maybe it’s enough to get my mind off the disaster that is my life.
Maybe it’s enough to just find someone to spend time with.
Maybe sex is enough for tonight.
“Why’s that sweetheart? You got a boyfriend hiding somewhere around here?” The man’s body is pressing against mine now. We’re chest-to-chest, and each time I breathe, my breasts rise and fall, pressing against him.
I’m very aware of every part of my body, of every bit of my skin.
“No,” I squeak out.
“Then dance with me.”
He pulls me to the center of the room. The dance floor is packed, but Mr. Gorgeous doesn’t seem to mind. He holds my waist and moves his body like he’s a professional dancer instead of one of my brother’s friends.
He’s my brother’s friend.
I keep trying to tell myself, but despite the warning bells going off in my bed, I’m caught up in the moment, swept into everything that’s happening.
“How do you know Richard?” I manage to ask. I have to stand on my tip-toes and yell into his ear because the music is so loud.
“We were roommates in college,” he says. “For a year.”
I quickly go through the list of people my brother lived with. I can name most of his roommates and I’ve met all of them at various functions over the years except for one.
“You must be Aidan, then,” I say, and the look of surprise on his face delights me.
“Lucky guess,” he says, quickly collecting himself. “How’d you know my name?”
“Richard and I are pretty close,” I tell him, but I start laughing when I see the look of concern on his face. He thinks I’m Richard’s girlfriend. Gross. “He’s my brother.”
I wonder if this will scare Aidan off. Am I off-limits because I’m the little sister? Most guys would run away. Most guys would be scared.