The Promise

by River Laurent

  I giggle. “Well, what are you waiting for, big boy?”

  Epilogue

  Cass

  (Three Years Later)

  I wake up suddenly and with a strange knowing. Dawn in already in the sky and its pale light is creeping in through the open windows. I turn my head and look at Lars sleeping next to me. For a few moments, I simply stare at him in wonder. He is so beautiful, it’s like watching a living breathing painting.

  Sometimes, I still can’t believe he is mine.

  My finger lifts to touch his cheek, but I stop myself. I don’t want to wake him up yet. Gently, I slip out of bed and pad over to the bathroom. From the cabinet, I take out my pregnancy kit. I tear it out of its wrapper and hold it in my stream of pee. I flush the toilet and clean the stick. Then I wash my hands and sit at the edge of the bath. It’s only seconds, but it feels like a long time while I wait for the seconds to tick by. When enough time has passed, I look at the stick.

  A bubble of joy rises up from my belly and erupts as a giggle. I lay the stick by the sink and go back into the bedroom. Lars is awake.

  “You made the bed cold,” he complains.

  I walk over and look down at him.

  He lifts the duvet and shows me his erection. “Want to come and sit on me,” he invites, his eyes dark with desire.

  “There isn’t enough time,” I say, even though my body has started clamoring for him.

  “I’ll be quick if you will,” he says persuasively.

  “Oh yeah? That’s what you said the last time and look what happened then.”

  “You’re wasting time. Come on, I’m dying for you.”

  I climb on the bed and looking into his eyes, slowly impale myself on his strong, thick cock.

  “Jesus, that feels good,” he groans softly.

  I lift myself along his shaft, and drop down on it, slowly building my momentum until I get into a good rhythm. My heart is full of happiness; and my body is full of Lars and the tiny life quietly growing inside me. When I break apart it is different too. The waves are slow, languorous, and so incredibly intense they make my body shake. I open my eyes, and Lars is looking at me.

  “Are you all right?”

  He knows me so well. He can even tell when my orgasms are different. With my secret and him still buried deep inside me, I feel almost too blissful to speak.

  “What is it, Cass?”

  “Daddy,” I whisper.

  His eyebrows rise and his eyes flash. “Are you being kinky, or are you trying to say something to me?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think…I like the idea of you being that kinky at this time of the morning, but the other idea is making my heart pound like crazy.”

  I smile slowly. “It’s the other idea.”

  His eyes widen and he starts beaming. “Really?”

  I beam back happily. “Really.”

  He laughs with joy. “A baby?”

  “A baby,” I confirm.

  “Take your gown off,” he murmurs.

  I grasp the edges of my nightie, lift it over my head, and toss it to the floor. Underneath I’m naked.

  His eyes rove my body greedily, hungrily, as if he has not just had me. As if he has not already seen my body a thousand times. His hands move towards my stomach. He cups it gently. “I love you, Cass. I never thought it was possible, but I love you more everyday. It’s got so that I love you so much it actually hurts.”

  I grin. “That’s because I’m such a pain in the butt.”

  “You said it. Not me.”

  A small cry comes from the baby monitor.

  “My son has perfect timing,” Lars says.

  I get off Lars lovely cock, wipe myself, and go to pick up my gown.

  “Don’t,” he whispers. There is something warm and alive in his eyes.

  “You want me to go get our son naked?”

  He nods. “Why not? Soon you won’t be able to.”

  I shake my head and roll my eyes, but I walk naked to the next room.

  My boy is already standing up and gazing at me from his cot. He takes his thumb out of his mouth and calls out, “Mommy.”

  “Good morning, darling, I greet as lift his small body into my arms. Then I do what I always do, I bury my nose in the crook of his neck and smell him. He still smells of milk.

  “Shall we go see, Daddy?”

  “Go Daddy,” he replies.

  So I carry him to our bedroom.

  Lars

  I sit up and wait.

  I want to remember this moment.

  One day when I am old and there are grandchildren running around me I want to be able to recall this precious moment. I hear her footsteps in the corridor, and a lump forms in my throat.

  Then she appears.

  My mind clicks the image. My naked woman and my child. There is nothing more beautiful in the world. That’s my whole world right there. If everything else I have burns down to the ground tomorrow and I still have what’s standing in that doorway, I’m a happy man.

  I swallow the lump in my throat. “Morning, Cody.”

  “Daddy,” he cries, lifting both his hands towards me.

  I watch my woman walk to me, the insides of her sweet pussy still coated with my seed, my son wriggling in her arms to get to me, and another child growing in her belly, and I know there is not a man in this world who can tell me he is happier than me.

  The End

  Deleted Scene

  I wrote this scene then, realized that the story was better without it. Still it seemed a shame to waste it, so for those of you who would like to know what happened at the ball when Lars realized that Cass was not Tamara read on…

  Lars

  I spot Tamara coming towards me, but her head is bent, and she is limping badly. What the fuck? I leave my drink on a table nearby and walk quickly to her side. “Are you all right?”

  She looks up at me, the movement is unfamiliar and unlike her. “Not really. Can we get out of here? My broken ankle is killing me,” she says in a whiny voice.

  I take a rear back and stare at her in horror. I don’t know what the hell is going on, but the woman standing in front of me is not Tamara Honeywell. My eyes quickly sweep over her body. Her breasts are much bigger and obviously fake, and the rest of her is horribly malnourished. Almost skeletal. I return my astonished eyes to her face. Even from under the mask her nose looks dangerously over-worked.

  “Your ankle is broken?” I ask slowly.

  Her eyes narrow. A look of uncertainty comes into them. “I thought you knew that.”

  “I was under the impression it was sprained.”

  Something flashes in her eyes. Fury. Not the kind of fury I’m used to seeing in Tamara’s eyes. This fury is vindictive and malicious. These are not the eyes I know. I take a step forward and whip the mask off her face.

  She blinks with surprise, then, tries to smile.

  I scowl at her fiercely. “I don’t give a damn who you are or what kind of sick joke this is. All I want to know is where is the real Tamara.”

  She lifts her nose. “I am the real Tamara,” she announces grandly.

  Of course, she is. This woman is everything I feared she would be: a proud, spoilt, plastic brat. Everything makes perfect sense now. The one I love is the imposter. I feel a flash of pure joy. All those horrible rumors weren’t about my girl.

  “And who is the other girl,” I ask softly.

  She makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. “No one. She needed a job so I helped her out.”

  I stare at her for moment, my face deliberately cold. “Does she have a name?”

  “Cass something,” she replies sulkily.

  Cass. Yes, the name suits her. An image flashes into my mind. Cass riding Thunder, sunlight in her hair. Cass. Yes. My Cass.

  “Where is she now?” I ask sternly.

  She shrugs. “Who knows. Gone back to wherever she crawled out from.”

  What a sneaky bitch. She didn’t fancy spendi
ng a month mucking out horse stalls so she hired a lookalike. “And you don’t know how to get in contact with her?”

  “Nope.” Her voice is spiteful.

  This is easier than I thought it would be. “Fine, I’ll just ask your father.”

  The change in her is instant. She becomes red with fury. “My father? Who the hell do you think you are? You think my father has the time to get involved in your pathetic sex life? Mind your manners or I’ll make sure you’re thrown out on your ear.”

  I look at her curiously. “Who do you think I am?”

  For the first time, she looks unsure of herself. “One of the ranch hands?” she asks hopefully.

  “Nope.”

  Her forehead furrows then her eyes suddenly widen when the penny drops. “Lars…Oh, fuck. You’re not. Noooo.”

  I nod slowly. “Afraid so.”

  Another change comes over her. She starts simpering like some nineteenth-century heroine. “I’m so sorry I was rude to you. I thought you were one of the ranch hands.” She licks her lips nervously.

  I laugh. “What’s the matter? Doesn’t Daddy know that you got an impersonator to take your place?”

  “No. Please. Please, don’t involve Daddy. He’s got enough worries on his plate already.”

  “Bullshit,” I say harshly.

  She flinches at the hard threat in my voice, but I don’t soften my expression. I need to know where my girl is.

  “All right,” she says. “I’ll tell you everything. Just don’t tell my dad, okay?”

  “I’m going to have to tell your dad either way, but you can make it easier for yourself by telling me where she is.”

  “If there’s nothing to be gained by telling you, I won’t bother to. I know how to work my father, let’s see how you find that little tramp without my help,” she says, a taunting smile playing about her lips.

  I want to grab her and shake her.

  “Her name is Cass Harper and she works for a lookalike agency called Cinderella.com,” a voice behind us says.

  I turn around and see an elegant woman dressed in a deep red suit standing a few feet behind us. She has gray hair and that kind of daring chic that you only find in Paris.

  “How dare you interfere, you stupid old bitch?” Tamara screeches.

  “This time you went too far,” the woman says in a calm dignified voice.

  “This time you’re fucking fired,” she hurls back furiously

  “Good,” the woman says softly, and turning around, walks away.

  I spend one second more looking at Tamara Honeywell’s flushed, frustrated face, then I go after the gray-haired woman. She and I have unfinished business.

  I need to know where my Cass is.

  That’s it folks…

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  Untitled

  Too Hot Too Handle

  River Laurent

  Too Hot To Handle

  Copyright © 2018 by River Laurent

  The right of River Laurent to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by her in accordance with the copyright, designs and patent act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  All characters in this publication are fictitious, any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  978-1-911608-18-9

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  Thank You To

  Brittany Urbaniak

  Madison

  “Oh, come on, you know it’s going to be fun!”

  “I’m just not sure,” I rolled my eyes at my best friend, Eleanor, who was sitting opposite me with a look on her face that told me she was never going to take no for an answer.

  “It’s precisely what you need right now.” She nudged my foot with hers beneath the table. “A bit of fun, yeah?”

  “I think it’s more fun for you than for me,” I said, taking a sip of my coffee and shaking my head.

  She leaned back and observed me for a moment, before letting out a long sigh, obviously trying to figure out how she could best twist my arm. “Well, since I’m right off of a break-up.” she nodded pointedly. “I get one wild night on the town with you, no questions asked, right?”

  “I guess so.” I finished my coffee and fiddled with the sugar packets on the table in front of me, arranging them in parallel lines. “It just doesn’t sound like my kind of thing, though.”

  “What? Hot guys aren’t your kind of thing?” She was the one rolling her eyes now. She reached into her bag and pulled out a slightly crumpled brochure, and laid it out on the table in front of me, smoothing out the creases.

  “What are you, their PR person now?” I teased.

  She waved her hand enthusiastically at me. “Just look at this guy,” she said as she stabbed her finger onto the paper. “Chad Weston. How can any woman with blood running in their veins not want to see him in person?”

  “That leaves me out. I have coffee running mine.”

  She sighed elaborately as if I was too much for her to put up. I looked down at the man she was pointing to. Okay, I had to admit, he was swoon-worthy hot. Well, they were hardly going to put some plain guy on the front of the brochure advertising their male strip show, were they? Even so, his bright green eyes and mess of brown hair were cute, and that big-ass grin was almost as distractingly attractive as his ripped abs and muscular arms.

  “I guess he’s pretty hot,” I shrugged.

  She threw her hands dramatically in the air, attracting the attention of a few people sitting around us. That wasn’t a problem for her. She liked attention, loved it when she was the center of attraction. “Pretty hot?” she squealed. “Do you know they call him Subway Chad.”

  I frowned. “Subway Chad?”

  “Don’t play coy. Haven’t I seen you eating their twelve inch sandwiches before.”

  I flushed bright red. “Oh, that.”

  She smirked. “Yes, that. Don’t you agree it will be worth seeing? You’ve never seen one that big have you.”

  I swallowed hard. Now I was certain everyone was looking at me as if I was some kind of freak. “No,” I croaked.

  “So, you’re going to come with me?”

  “I don’t know, El. It’s really not my thing.”

  “Come on. What would you do otherwise. Bury your face in one of those ridiculous books of yours?”

  I bit my lip. That was exactly what I planned on doing. “What’s your game-plan? Just look at them until you get over Jonathan?”

  “Nope,” She grinned widely. “I’m going to get that American dude into my bed. It’s my life work.”

  “What, ever since you saw this brochure, you mean?”

  The sarcasm was lost on her. She nodded. “Ever since.”

  “So you down for it?”

  I gave a long sigh. I guess it wouldn’t kill me to go out with her for one night. “What time does it start?”

  “Seven, and I promise you won’t be disappointed,” she said nodding at me pointedly. “You never know you might get to go home with one of the other men in the troupe.”

  “I don’t think so,” I fired back immediately.

  “Why not? It’ll just be a one night stand. You know, just let yourself go with a perfectly gorgeous God of a man.”

  I was not the kind of girl men who looked like that would chose to take home for the night. I carried a bit too much weight around my hips and thighs and I had the kind of face you would miss in a
crowd. I was a plain Jane. In all probability I would be taking a taxi home on my own, which actually suited me just fine. “I’ll come by your place and meet you at half-six.”

  “Not necessary. I have got the transport all sorted out. I’ll come pick you up at half-six.” She got to her feet, and leaned in to drop a quick kiss on the side of my cheek. “Come on, we need to go and get you a dress.”

  “I have plenty of dresses,” I protested. “I don’t need any more.”

  “Trust me, what you have at home isn’t going to do it for an event like this,” She pulled me to my feet. “We’re going shopping.”

  Madison

  “Fine,” I got to my feet reluctantly. Hanging out with Eleanor these days left me feeling more exhausted than ever; she was always running around, dragging me to this and that even, as though just my company alone wasn’t enough for her anymore. Now that she had split with Johnathan who she had been with for almost a year, I had to come to terms with the fact that I was going to be seeing a lot more of her than I had been before. In the past she tended to get obsessed with dudes, getting stuck on them at the expense of nearly everything else in her life and needing me to offload on, but at least with this stripper, Chad What’s-his-name, he would be out of the city by the end of the night.

  Although, I had to admit, I was a little cynical about her chances of hooking up with him, anyway. How many women must throw themselves at him all the time? I mean, Eleanor was beautiful, with slim hips, a wasp waist, and bee-stung lips that seemed to have men falling at her feet, but this guy got women hot for a living. It wasn’t like he could be short on them.