Alpha's Baby: A Secret Baby Romance

by Lauren Landish

  Katrina's legs relax, and her hips slowly fall back to the mattress, a long, shuddering breath escaping from her lips. I crawl up from between her legs and rest my left hand on the middle of her chest, looking into her eyes. “I love you, Katrina.”

  “I love you, my amazing Jackson,” she answers, putting her hand over mine. She shifts her hips, then chuckles, feeling the head of my cock bump against her hips. “I may have created a monster.”

  I nod and raise an eyebrow. “Are you ready?”

  She bites her lip and nods, her breath catching as I reach down with my right hand and slip the head of my cock in between her lips. I slide in slowly, knowing she's sensitive and tender, and besides, I want to savor this feeling. I want to savor it forever.

  “Are you sure you don't need some ice?”

  I chuckle and look down at my cock, which while limp is still slightly sore and aching after one hell of a time.

  “No, I’m fine. Actually, I was thinking in a little bit that I'd like to put on some clothes.”

  “You don't have any, other than those jeans,” she notes, coming over with a glass of juice. Katrina's gotten at least slightly dressed, a pair of boy-short panties and one of her ever-present sports bras. “Oh, and two t-shirts. Just what were you thinking not packing anything?”

  “I didn't care about anything else at the moment,” I tell her, taking the juice and sipping gratefully. “I knew that I could make it without the money. Besides, I'm free now, which is better than all the designer clothing in the world.”

  “Well, tomorrow then, we'll get you outfitted. Until then, I guess you're just going to have to lie around mostly naked and let me pamper you.”

  I laugh lightly and reach up, taking her hand, pulling her down next to me on the couch. “You know, the first two times we were together, you embarrassed me, then nearly broke my arm while sticking a gun in my face. And now you're pampering me, as you put it. Don't tell me the sexy seductive ass kicker's gone?”

  “Not at all,” Katrina says, giving me a knowing smile. “But I have a soft side too, you know. I was thinking actually that I'd like to spend a few months exploring that softer side.”

  “What'd you have in mind?” I ask, sitting up. “I mean, besides maybe a honeymoon?”

  “A honeymoon for sure,” Katrina replies, smiling, “but only after we get you a fake ID. I know a guy who does good work.”

  “Then what?”

  Katrina strokes my face and kisses me on the cheek. “Then we let you finish your education, with me being your guide. I can't help you on the business courses, but I can help us make a comfortable living below the radar for as long as we want.”

  I nod, knowing exactly why. Katrina's blast of information may have taken care of Peter and Samuel, but there will be friends, allies, and others affected who will be looking for revenge. It's going to be dangerous, but I think it's worth it. “Okay. Well, you said we've got what, three hundred thousand or so?”

  “Something like that. More importantly, we've got connections.”

  “Then let's tag a quarter million for building our future, and the rest we can use for taking the time to figure out what that future is going to be,” I tell her, taking her hand. “As long as that future is next to you and our daughter, I'll be happy.”

  “Daughter?” Katrina asks, giving me a little smile. “So you want a daughter and not a son?”

  “Oh, I'm sure we'll have a son together eventually, but I've got a feeling,” I tell her, and then kiss her softly. “Just a feeling, that's all.”

  “Careful, unless you’re ready for what your lips are starting,” Katrina purrs, then lays her head on my shoulder.

  I kiss her and pull her closer. “Any ideas for the honeymoon?”

  Katrina thinks for a moment, then nods. “Catalina Island, off the coast of California. I read about there when I was training... I've always wanted to go.”

  “That sounds perfect to me. Then we can plan the rest of our future.”

  Katrina hums and snuggles against me. “Our future. I like the sound of that.”

  Epilogue

  An Online Chat Room

  Kat- So did you guys get the files I sent you?

  Andrea- Yes. She's beautiful.

  Darcy- I agree. She's got your face and his eyes.

  Kat- Which I am very grateful for. Although I guess I should worry when she gets old enough to attract boys.

  Andrea- Are you kidding? The boys are going to be scared of pissing off her mother and father.

  Darcy- LOL. True. By the way, you like her name I bet.

  Andrea- Of course I do. I think Andrea's a beautiful name for a little girl.

  Kat- As soon as she came out with those blue eyes, we both knew exactly what to name her. How’s it going by the way?

  Andrea- It's going. If I need help, I know who to call.

  Kat- Damn right.

  Darcy- Ditto. Hey guys, Jeff just got home, and Henry's hungry, so I'm going to take off.

  Kat- OK. Hey, tell him congrats on the promotion. Detective now. Movin' on up.

  Darcy- Deluxe apartment in the sky, Baby Girl. Take care, TTYL.

  Kat- LU, Darce.

  Andrea- Take care, Darce.

  System- *BlakDhal1A has logged off*

  Andrea- So is the gym going well?

  Kat- We're doing the grand underground opening next week, but the privates and seminars are already netting us a good student base. Between him teaching the men, me the women, and us splitting the kid's classes, we're going to do well for a place that technically doesn't exist.

  Andrea- What about your other investments?

  Kat- Doing well. Your advice was dead on. Thanks.

  Andrea- Don't thank me. I just verified what oniichan picked out. He's a smart one.

  Kat- You sound proud of him.

  Andrea- I am. Aren't you?

  Kat- I'm proud of both of you. Hey, Andrea just woke up, she wants some Mommy time. I'm gonna take off myself. Give her some milk, then Jackson and I are going to work together on that '67 Corvette model that we picked up last week. I thought it'd be juvenile, but we're both loving it.

  Andrea- OK. I love you, Katrina.

  Kat- Not Katrina anymore, remember?

  Andrea- Oh yeah. Sorry. I love you, Mercy. BTW, I like the sound of that. Mercy Hart.

  Kat- Thanks. I like it, too. I love you too, Andrea. TTYL.

  Andrea- TTYL

  System- *CD Grace has logged off*

  System- *Blue Sakura has logged off*

  Book 1 - Revenge.

  Book 2 - Retaliation.

  Book 3 - Retribution.

  Bought: Highest Bidder

  Prologue

  Lucian

  I slowly pace the room, letting the sound of my shoes clacking against the floor startle her. My eyes are on Dahlia, watching her every movement. Her breathing picks up as she realizes I’ve come back for her. With her blindfold on and her wrists and ankles tied to the bed while she lies on her belly, she’s at my complete mercy, and she knows it.

  The sight of her bound and waiting for me is so tempting. I force my groan back.

  Her pale, milky skin is on full display as she waits for me. I’ve left her like this deliberately, in this specific position. She knows now not to move, not to struggle. She knows to wait for me obediently, and what’s more, she enjoys it.

  The wooden paddle gently grazes along her skin, leaving goosebumps down her thigh in its wake. They trail up the curve of her ass, and her shoulders rise as she sucks in a breath. Her body tenses and her lips part, spilling a soft moan. She knows what's coming.

  She’s earned this.

  She lied to me.

  And she’s going to be punished.

  She doesn’t know this is for her own good. She should, but she hasn’t realized it yet.

  I’m only doing this for her. She needs this.

  She needs to heal, and I know just how to help her. The paddle whips through the air and smacks her lush
ass, leaving a bright red mark as she gasps, her hands gripping the binds at her wrists. I watch as her pussy clenches around nothing, making my dick that much harder.

  Soon.

  I barely maintain my control and gently knead her ass, soothing the pulsing pain I know she’s feeling. “Tell me why you lied to me, treasure,” I whisper at the shell of her ear, my lips barely touching her sensitive skin.

  “I’m sorry,” she whimpers with lust. I don’t want her apology. I want her to realize what she’s done. I want to know why she hid it from me all this time. She’ll learn she can’t lie to me. There’s no reason she should.

  Smack! I bring the paddle down on the other cheek and her body jolts as a strangled cry leaves her lips, her pussy glistening with arousal.

  “That’s not what I asked, treasure.” My tone is taunting. She needs to realize what I already know. She needs to admit it. To me, but mostly to herself.

  I pull away from her, just for a moment, leaving her to writhe on the bed from the sting of the paddle.

  I didn’t anticipate our relationship reaching this point.

  In the beginning, I thought this would be fun. Just a form of stress relief for me.

  But things changed.

  I bought her at auction, and now she can’t leave. She’s mine for an entire month. But the days have flown by, and the contract is almost over.

  I need more time.

  I’m going to make this right. I’m going to heal my treasure.

  If it’s the last thing I do, I'll give her what she needs. What we both need.

  She parts those beautiful lips, and hope blooms in my chest.

  Say it, tell me what you desperately need to say.

  But her mouth closes, and she shifts slightly on the sheets before stilling and waiting patiently for more.

  I pull my arm back and steady myself.

  Soon, she’ll realize it. My broken treasure. Soon she’ll be healed, but that won’t be enough for me anymore. I want more.

  Smack!

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  Dirty Debt by Lauren Landish

  It's time to collect on the biggest debt anyone in the city owes me. Jacob Waters, the bastard that killed my father. He's an abusive prick and he'll pay the ultimate price. But before I take him down, I'm taking his most prized possession. His precious Sarah.

  Sneak Peek - Anaconda

  by Lauren Landish

  Chapter 1

  Brianna

  “This is fucking disgusting!” I mutter with revulsion, looking around the hotel room and barely able to hold back the nausea twisting my stomach as a foul stench assaults my nostrils. I clamp a hand over my nose, trying not to breath the acrid air in too deeply through my mouth, shaking my head at the horror before me.

  Actually, disgusting is an understatement. The room looks like a frat house after a night of binge drinking and wild orgies. There’s pizza boxes and crushed cans of beer and dark stains everywhere.

  Jesus Christ.

  No wonder why the smell is so bad. These guys are pigs. My eyes continue on and I spot at least one smashed bottle of vodka before….

  “Oh hell no!” I croak, almost dry heaving and turning away from the revolting sight of several used condoms. I think I even see something white and sticky nearby. I grab the top of my uniform and pull it up over my nose, no longer able to bear the stench. “They don’t pay me enough for this shit!” Holding my breath, I beeline for the door, my heart pounding like a war drum. I gasp as I exit the room and enter the hotel hallway, letting go off my shirt and sucking down lungfuls of air. I normally can’t stand the air in the smoking section of the hotel guest rooms, but right now, this air is sweeter than a double fudge chocolate chip sundae.

  After a few grateful breaths, I pull out my walkie from my side pocket and shake my head as I press the microphone button. “Maintenance, this is Housecleaning.”

  “Whatcha need Bri?” asks a familiar scratchy, sarcastic voice, and I sigh, relaxing. It’s Jimmy, an older man who still wears corduroy and thinks he’s in the 70’s. But beside his penchant for living in the past, I know he’s pretty cool and will empathize with my pain. This isn’t the first wrecked room that I’ve walked in on, and it certainly won’t be my last.

  “We have a problem,” I tell him, letting the direness I feel seep into my voice. “A big, big problem.”

  “Is it that bad?” Jimmy asks. There’s a slight note of hope in his voice. I know what he’s thinking. He’s hoping that maybe it’s nothing a little bleach and elbow grease won’t fix.

  I feel sorry for him. And to think I didn’t even get to step foot into the bathroom.

  I shudder at the gross images that flash in my mind as I reply, “Yes! Your boys will have their hands full. Room 333. Bring steam cleaners, a sandblaster...and maybe a hazmat suit.”

  Jimmy groans over the radio. I hear him inhale as if he wants to say something, but the transmission cuts. He knows that he can’t say much about it. Our radios aren’t monitored like the police scanners, but still can be listened to. And with what’s going on, we can’t take chances. A crackling sound pops my ears.

  “If you guys get it done, I’ll worry about the towels and sheets,” I add.

  “Grand Waterways Hotel...” Jimmy says forlornly. “Grand Water Shit Way would be a more apt name.”

  I huff out a chuckle at that. Jimmy shouldn’t have said that over the line, but it’s the damn truth. “Can’t argue with that,” I say wholeheartedly. To the hotel’s credit, though, it can’t help what guests like a team of pro ballers do to its rooms when they’re hosting drunken parties.

  “I hear you. But I’ll handle it, Bri. We’ll be up in a half hour, maybe you can catch the rest on the back half of your shift?

  A feeling relief washes over my limbs. The man is a lifesaver. There’s no way I could handle these type of situations without him.

  “Thanks, Jimmy.”

  “No worries. Maintenance out.”

  “Poor man,” I mutter, tucking my walkie talkie back into my pocket.

  Grateful to be free of that disaster, I make my way to the elevator. I press the down button and wait for the doors to open. Once inside, I mull over which floor I should go to, but my watch beeps, reminding me that I need a break.

  I jam the button for the basement, leaning against the wall as the cabin starts to go down. My back aches, my feet ache, and I’m pretty sure that my skin needs to be scrubbed with something stronger than soap and water just walking into that filthy room. The images of the condoms on the floor flash in my mind and I feel my skin crawl.

  I can’t wait until I finish my degree and never have to step foot into this place again, I think with disgust.

  I definitely don’t feel like working the rest of my shift after that. I’m aching and sore all over. I’m seriously overworked, and I don’t think I can take anymore surprises.

  But at least I’m mostly finished, and I’ve got the next thirty minutes to chill out, try to get myself back together, maybe pop a Tylenol or two before I do the last set of regular rooms, the suites, and then the floor I hate most, the penthouse suites that can range from sparkly clean to pig styes as bad as the room I just left... depending on who’s staying there.

  The ding sound and opening doors pulls me out of my reverie. I walk out of the elevator and head to the maintenance room. Inside, I wash my hands, using rubbing alcohol and some germicidal stuff from the medicine cabinet in the staff room before I apply two coats of lotion, praying that maybe this time I won’t be bleeding from between my fingers like the las
t time that I had to do this.

  I look up in the mirror and sigh, shaking my head at the reflection that looks back at me. Bra length, dark brown hair, tired eyes and a grumpy countenance. I look like I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in over a week.

  I don’t need this shit, I say to myself. I can’t wait to get out of this place. Hell, I’ll take just about any job with benefits over this.

  But more than benefits, I need money. Doing twenty-nine hours of maid work in a hotel just doesn’t cut it when you’re like me; Master’s Degree student with no family, no credit cards, and about two thousand dollars left from a student loan. Somehow, I have to stretch this small amount of money to cover the gap in my living expenses for the rest of the year.

  I shake my head as I think about how close I’d been to that internship.

  One computer error. That’s all that kept me from landing a good internship. One idiot at school who typed in my GPA wrong, saying I had a 1.8 instead of a 3.8. By the time I got it all sorted out, it was too late. All of the internships were already snatched up.

  “Face it, girlie. If this keeps up, you’re going to be going down to the food bank for canned goods by Christmas,” I grumble to myself as I rub the last of the lotion into my hand. The sound of heels clicking against the tiled floor causes me to turn around and I see my best friend Mindy holding a double mocha latte frappuccino in her hand, and a cup of a green tea in the other. She wiggles the latte at me.