Big Man’s Heat

by Wylder, Penny

  Everything about this moment is different. It's an apology with our kiss, and forgiveness with our bodies. It's Mark telling me everything is okay, and me letting him know he's right.

  Mark pistons his hips, fucking me so hard my legs are going numb and my lungs burn. I need to scream. I need to yell his name and let him know how good he feels inside me. Tearing my mouth off his, I suck in a deep breath and bury my face in his neck.

  Holding in my scream, I bite down, digging my teeth in his flesh to stay quiet. The orgasm floods my body, making my toes curl and my muscles shake.

  His cock thickens inside me. I can feel it. His length fills me, pulsing and throbbing inside my body. With his face in the pillow behind me, he grunts lightly. His groan so low it's barely audible.

  But I can hear it. I can hear him as his fingers drive into my hair, tangling around thick locks and pulling them hard. My scalp is burning as his cock jerks inside my body, pumping me full of hot cum.

  My muscles relax, legs falling open, releasing him as he drapes over me. He's breathing heavily, his heart beating inside his chest like a drum. His cock is still inside me, still twitching and pulsing.

  Pushing up on his forearms, Mark touches the tips of his fingers to my face as he looks down on me. “I wish you could stay here all night.”

  “Me too,” I say. Running my nails up and down his back. I kiss him. “I can stay for a little while.”

  “No, we might fall asleep. I'd hate to cause more problems between you and your family. But maybe tomorrow you can show me some more stuff around the city. I'm going to get a hotel for the rest of the time I'm here. This way there's no issue.”

  “No,” I blurt out. “I'll talk to them. I'll make them let you stay for the rest of the time you're here. I don't want you to leave.”

  Mark smiles and kisses me on the forehead. “I'm not going to tell you what to do for me. You do whatever you feel is right. That's what I really want. I want you to start doing things for you and no one else. Not for me, and not for your parents. For you. I'll stay if they say I can, but if they say no, I'll go someplace else. I'm not going to be the reason you guys fight, so long as you start seeing your own worth, and standing up for yourself.”

  My eyes dart between his and I can see he's serious. I know in my heart he's right. What's the point of living if you're always doing it for someone else? What kind of life is this if it's not mine but someone else's version for me?

  Kissing Mark one last time, I head back to my room, falling asleep easily this time. It's like he pulled a weight off my shoulders. He gave me the strength to open my eyes and see things need to change if I want to truly be happy.

  After a pretty heated conversation with my parents the next morning, I'm able to get them to agree to letting Mark stay here for the last few days of his trip under one condition: he stays clear of any of the social events my mother has planned.

  I readily agree, doing my best to hide the smile I feel inside. I've been trying to figure out the best way to take my life back without hurting my parents. Despite what people might think, and no matter how much control they want to have, I know they love me and want the best for me.

  The last couple of days Mark and I tour the city. I take him to the Statue of Liberty and Times Square. We hit the best places for pizza and all the little restaurants that look like a hole in the wall, but the food is to die for.

  And the sex. . . The sex has been incredible. At the studio, in his room, in my room, anywhere in the house when no one else is home. I can't stop what's happening to me. I can feel him everywhere. His touch, his voice, his lips and cock, all of it. The connection is like nothing I've ever experienced.

  My favorite part about him being here is the time we spend in my studio. He watches me paint, admiring me with so much affection and desire in his eyes, it makes me feel full. The studio feels more like home than my actual house.

  In the studio there's no judgment, no expectations, no rules. I get to be me, to do the only thing that's ever given me joy in this world.

  I think that's what scares me the most about rejecting my parents altogether. Losing my studio will gut me if I don't have a place to paint.

  Waking up with a smile, I grab my phone and send him a good morning text. The time and date light up on the screen and something catches my eye.

  It's the tenth already? Wasn't my period due a few days ago?

  My heart starts racing and my body grows warm. There's an instant pit in my stomach the more I try to remember the last time I had my period. It was right before Jenna's wedding, I know that much.

  I should have had it by now.

  Oh fuck. . . Oh fuck. . .

  I run to the bathroom and splash my face with cold water. Looking at myself in the mirror, I watch the water drip down my face as a very palpable reality hits me. Mark and I didn't use protection that first night, and we haven't even attempted at all this week either. I've been stupid and reckless. I haven't been thinking at all. I've been driven by emotion and just feeling good. All rational thoughts have been tossed aside.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. It can't be. No, I'm not—

  Holy shit, what if I actually am. . .?

  12

  Mark

  Sipping my beer, I watch Siobhan from the corner of my eyes. She's quiet, fiddling with the corner of the napkin under her cup of tea. She's staring out over the sea of people moving around us, but at the same time, she isn't really looking at any one thing.

  I can't figure out what's wrong or changed, the past few days have been incredible. She's been nothing but smiles, and now she's withdrawn and distant. It doesn't make sense.

  Following her eyes, she's fixed on a pigeon, blankly tracking it as it hops around the sidewalk.

  “Crazy that a bug eyed bird like that saved thousands of lives.”

  “What?” she asks, peering up at me with a lost look.

  What is going on in her head?

  “Pigeons,” I say, pointing to the bird pecking the ground around the trash can. “They were used to fly updates to soldiers in World Wars one and two.”

  “Oh.” Her voice falters, lowering to a whisper as she gives me a weak smile. “I didn't know that.”

  “What's going on with you?” I ask, pinning my eyes on hers.

  Her lips fold down as she hugs her cup in her hands and arches her brows. “Nothing. There's nothing wrong. I'm fine.”

  “It's something.” Scooting my chair closer, I clasp my hand around her thigh and give it a gentle squeeze. “What is it?”

  “It's nothing. I said I'm fine.” Shaking her head, she looks at me, but she's still not here. Her mind is someplace else, and I want to know what she's thinking.

  “Fine, if you won't tell me on your own, I have ways to get it out of you.” I dig my fingers into her leg. I squeeze harder just above her knee.

  Sia giggles, jerking her leg free. “Hey, that's not fair. Tickling is torture, it's an unfair tactic.”

  “Well, I'm not afraid to hit low to get what I want. So, you can tell me yourself or I'll work it out of you.” Moving my hand up, I poke at her belly, drawing out another laugh.

  “Stop,” she says between chuckles.

  “Nope, better speak up.” I lean closer and kiss her in the crook of her neck and nibble gently, making her shoulders scrunch up and her laughter grow.

  “All right, all right, I'll tell you.” Pushing me away, she rubs the tingle off her skin with a smirk on her face.

  “Good, so let's hear it. Why do you seem off today?” I lean back in my chair and watch her inhale a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Her eyes drift around my face, worry and fear coating her expression like a mask. Her lip starts to tremble, and her hands are shaking. Sitting up straight, she strips her eyes away and looks down.

  “I just don't know how to say it.”

  “Just say it.” Now I'm starting to worry. My heart begins to hammer inside my chest and my stomach clenches tight.

  “I'
m late.”

  “Late?” I ask. “I don't understand what you mean.”

  “Late,” she says again, her tone low and drawn out as her eyes reconnect with mine. “As in my monthly friend hasn't shown up yet.” Pursing her lips, she wraps her arms around her head and groans. “I mean, you're the only one I've slept with, and we haven't exactly been careful.” Her leg starts to bounce up and down rapidly and her eyes get big as saucers. “I just don't know what to think. I've never been late before, and I'm trying not to freak out, but I don't know what to do.”

  Pregnant? A baby?

  I'm struck with so many emotions at once. Fear, excitement, worry, happiness, all of them taking shape like a giant whirling tornado in my gut. They're wreaking havoc inside, pulling me in different directions.

  But I can't be weak, I can't worry about myself right now. I'm not the one with sky high expectations and a family who chooses outward looks over inner happiness. She has enough on her plate, the last thing she needs to worry about is if I'll stay or run.

  I rub her side gently, doing my best to comfort her. “Hey, don't worry. We'll figure this out, all right? Everything will be fine, no matter what happens. I promise. I'm not going anywhere.” I take her hand in mine and strum my fingers across her knuckles. “Everything is going to work out, no matter what.”

  Her head rolls on her shoulders to look at me, her lips thinning into a deep frown. She doesn't believe me, and why should she?

  From what I've seen with her family dynamic, a pregnancy will ruin Sia. They'll ruin Sia. I just know it. If they can't even handle the thought of having a guy like me around their daughter, how the hell will they handle her being pregnant?

  The thought of them casting her away, dragging her through the mud, and snuffing out her light in this world breathes fire in my gut.

  I want to protect her. I want to keep her safe and away from harm. I'll do anything to make sure she's happy and doesn’t spend the rest of her life as a stain on their family crest.

  “What am I going to do, Mark?” she asks, her voice cracking between words.

  “Hey,” I say as tears start to bubble up over her eyes. “Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Maybe you should take a test first to see. What do you think? We can go get one right now and find out for sure before you start planning your own funeral.” Winking, I give her a soft smile.

  Nodding, she wipes her eyes with the napkin, catching the dripping black mascara. “Yeah, that's a good idea. Let's do it. There's a drugstore right around the corner.”

  “All right, let's go.” I stand from the table and toss some money on the table. Holding out my hand, she takes it, tangling her fingers with mine. I hold her tight, letting her know I'm here for her. She needs someone on her side. I'm that someone.

  We stand shoulder to shoulder in the aisle, both staring at the shelf of pregnancy tests.

  “So, which one do you think?” I ask.

  “I have no clue.” Sia picks up a box and flips it around. “This one says it takes three minutes, and it has a little screen that says pregnant or not pregnant.”

  “Looks good to me.”

  Giggling, she looks up. “You want to take one too? This way we can make sure it works.”

  Scrunching my face, I start to laugh. “What if mine comes back pregnant?” We both laugh hard, and I can see her loosen up. I grab her face to pull her in for a kiss. “Just so you know, no matter what happens, I'm here.”

  Her eyes dart back and forth between mine as she leans her head into my palm. “Really?”

  “Really.” I mean what I say. I mean it with every ounce of my being. “You'll never be alone, not ever.”

  Sia smiles and it's the prettiest smile I've seen on her all day. “Thank you.”

  “You ready to do this?”

  “Yeah, let's get it over with.” She walks to the counter with the box in her hand as if it’s a live grenade, and I follow her.

  “Where am I going to take this? I can't do it at home,” she says, after she pays.

  “What about just doing it here? There's a bathroom in the back.”

  “No, I don't want to stay in here.” She nibbles her bottom lip, thinking. “There's a bookstore about a block away. We could do it there.”

  “Sounds good.”

  Our hands instantly fall together as we walk the block to the bookstore. I love the way her hand feels in mine. We fit together perfectly. Her slender fingers wrap mine; my big palm covers hers, our fingers curling into place easily.

  I want this all the time, and knowing that I'm going home soon only makes my chest ache. I don't want to be without this. Without the warmth of her hand. Without being able to kiss her and touch her and just have her any time I want.

  Stop thinking about it.

  You're here with her now, that's all that matters.

  I follow Sia through the bookstore to the back where the bathrooms are.

  “You want me to come in?” I ask.

  Smirking, she says, “No, I don't want someone thinking we're doing something naughty in there.” Grabbing the door, she pulls it open. “Just wait here in case I pass out or something.”

  The door closes behind her and the lock clicks in place. I lean against the wall to wait and I can feel my nerves start to come alive.

  What if she is pregnant?

  The thought flickers in my head, but it doesn't scare me the way I thought it would. If she's pregnant, I know I'm going to do the right thing. I'll be there for her and our baby. There's no doubt in my mind.

  “You doing okay in there?” I ask. I'm getting impatient. I want to know the answer.

  “Yeah, just another minute or so.”

  The wait is killing me. It feels like she's been in there forever. The bathroom door finally opens and Sia comes out with tears her in eyes.

  “What does it say?” I ask anxiously.

  Her lips spread into a big smile as her eyes turn to glass. “It's negative, I'm not pregnant.”

  “That's. . .” Pausing, I swallow hard and force a smile. “That's really good.”

  “Yeah, I'm so relieved. I've been under a lot of stress lately, so that must be messing with my body. But I'm glad I don't have to spring a baby on my parents, I can't imagine what that conversation would be like.”

  “Right, that is a relief,” I say, but inside I don't feel the same.

  My stomach sinks, the weight in my gut now an ache. I can't explain it. There's a feeling of disappointment that she's not pregnant. The thought of her carrying my baby was exciting, even though I know this is probably best.

  Why am I doing this to her? I've thrown a wrench in her world. It's not fair to her.

  Maybe I'm just being selfish. Maybe I'm thinking too much about what I want, about what would make me happy, and not enough about how I'm screwing up her life.

  After getting back to her house, I go right to my room. Her parents don't want anything to do with me, and I know I've worn out my welcome. I can feel the tension every time we come and go. The hate filled glares they throw at me. The condescending words, the little quips to point out how I'm beneath them.

  I've caused her nothing but trouble.

  This isn't what I set out to do. I came chasing her, not to destroy her.

  She's the best thing to ever walk into my life. I've never felt this way about anyone, but I can't be the reason for her relationship with her parents to crumble. The sneaking around is going to get back to them, it's only a matter of time. It's not fair to her, but life isn't about being fair. You can't control what other people do, you can only control what you do.

  And I'll do anything for her, anything at all. Even if that means having to walk away.

  When I go to bed that night, I lock my door so she can't sneak in, and spend the night tossing and turning. I hear her at my door as the handle jiggles. I want to open it so damn bad, but I don't get up. I pretend to be asleep as she whispers my name through the door and taps gently.

  It takes every ounc
e of strength for me to resist her. It's not about us and my desires anymore, it's about doing what's right for her.

  I watch as the shadow of her feet moves away from the door. My chest constricts, hoping she won't hate me for what I'm about to do.

  In the early morning hours as the sun is just about to come up and the sky is a dusty blue color, I write a note and slip it under her door before I leave. I have to do this while she's asleep. I can't face her.

  I'm not as strong as I thought.

  I know if I see her, I won't go through with this. I can't guarantee that if she opens her door right now, I won't drop to my knees and beg her to leave with me. I can't guarantee that if I see her face, I won't steal one more touch, one more kiss, one more night, until there's nothing left for me to take from her.

  Siobhan is worth letting go if it'll make her life easier.

  No matter how much I hurt, my pain is worth it for her to have the happiness she deserves.

  13

  Siobhan

  Waking up the next morning, I yawn, reaching my arms up over my head and stretching. I didn't get to see Mark last night. His door was locked. It hasn't been locked once since I started breaking my parents’ rules, but I'm sure it was just an accident.

  He probably fell asleep. It's possible he locked his door to take a shower, and then dozed off.

  It was an emotionally draining afternoon, even if the end results worked in our favor. I'm not pregnant. It's a weight off my shoulders, and my stomach is finally settled. I don't feel like I want to throw up anymore, and my heart has stopped galloping in my chest.

  Pushing up in bed, I stand and head to the bathroom, my eyes still sleepy. As I come back out, I spot a folded up piece of paper on the floor at my door. Arching a brow, I walk with wobbly steps, and pick it up.

  It's folded, my name written on the top in scratchy letters. What is this? I think to myself, sitting back down on the bed. Running my finger across the folds, I'm already smiling.