Once Upon A Half-Time: A Secret Baby Romance (36 page)

Nate
knew
me now.

He’d watched how I squirmed. He tasted how I responded. He held me as I bucked.

He’d learned what I liked, and everything changed.

I groaned against the slight pressure of his lips. His hot breath. The slip of his tongue just deep enough into my folds to test my slick excitement.

He had me panting without even touching my clit. He did it on purpose. It would be a
long
time before he gave me that
simple pleasure
.

His kisses focused on my inner thigh, teasing the soft skin around my slit, and dipping low to earn my frustrated murmur. Nothing eased that deep, trembling pulse inside me. I wetted for the only man who had ever brought me to that pleasured peek before, and I couldn’t wait for him to do it again.

“Nate…”

“
Shh
.” He savored me with a long lick. “I’m just getting started.”

I wasn’t above begging, but the words caught in my throat. I gripped the blanket and offered more of my hips.

He wasn’t playing fair. I tried to distract myself. I stared at the sky. The stars sprawled across the horizon, and the sweet, damp air soothed my flushing skin. Everything delighted me more. I couldn’t escape the delicate pressure searing into my core.

I sweated. My whimpers turned pained. This was it. The best and worst eternal agony. I wouldn’t survive if he stopped or ended it. I surrendered and fell limp.

Nate gave a voracious growl and launched upon my center.

His tongue seized my swollen nub, suckling my clit with a fury that stole my voice and left me shattered, breathless, and amazed by the sheer power he wielded over me.

“I want you to come.” Nate’s order was rushed and pained. He growled over my clit, and the vibrations rattled into my core. “The instant you come, I’m taking you.”

“Yes,
please
.”

“I can’t believe it’s been this long, baby.” He savored my slickness and greedily lapped everything I offered. “Swear to me, right now, right here. You’re mine. I can’t go months without having you again.”

His words pleasured me as much as his tongue. I groaned. Nate didn’t stop.

“You are everything pure and sexy that would drive an honest man to his knees and a bastard like me to the brink of hell. You have no idea how much I want you.”

And he had no idea how much I wanted him, but with promises and vows and futures I couldn’t give and he wouldn’t want.

I nodded, half-delirious with a crazed desperation. I tensed too much. I couldn’t hold back or refuse or deny it any more than I could have forced him to stop his teasing. I cried out and stared above as every star in the sky burst and exploded with me.

I quaked, shivered, and melted, but Nate was there. He kicked down his jeans and leaned over me with a determination that might have been frightening if I hadn’t wanted that fierceness.

I had no time to prepare. The pleasure wound through me, wrapping me in the fracturing shrapnel of my control. Nate poised himself at my entrance.

And pushed.

The overwhelming fullness wasn’t just the thickness of his cock steadily invading y core.

I rose with a breath but couldn’t come back down. My heart frantically beat, and I realized then Nate was the only man who would ever control me with such authority.

And he was the only man I ever wanted to possess that power.

My body had shred itself upon the delicate lapping of his tongue, but I had no time after the crash to recover. His cock drove inside me. Not fast. Not desperate.

He filled me because we couldn’t live apart for even a second longer.

I stared into his eyes, losing myself in the mysterious hue of forest green captured in the moonlight. He buried himself inside me, taking the tightness he had claimed before.

The first time, it had pinched and surprised me. I spent too long trying to adjust, to understand how something so primal could feel so delicious. This time, I had the answers. It felt good because it was
Nate’s
cock,
his
touch,
his
kiss.

The slow thrusts built in me, and I focused on every throbbing motion to savor how I reacted to the wonderfully perfect heat that passed between us.

He was bare now. Not that it mattered much then, but it did now. I felt him. Each thrust impaled me with a hard cock, but his skin was velvet soft and slid within my wetness so perfectly. Every vein, every ridge pushed against the tightness as I clenched around him.

Another orgasm built within me—deep and secret. Nate fell over me, and I raised my hips to welcome more of his length. His lips silenced my groans, too loud to let pass into the silence of the perfect night, sheltering our pleasure.

This wasn’t fucking. It wasn’t anything
close
, and the thought should have scared me more than the moment I realized I was pregnant.

But it didn’t.

It felt right.
Natural
. We fit so perfectly it was a wonder we had ever parted before.

Nate groaned against me, tensing just as I did. God, everything about us was in sync. Our breathing gasped together. Our heart beat the same jagged pulse. And our desire?

It built within me, ready for the moment Nate crested with his.

I clung to him, soundlessly begging. My head fell back, and he held me still so he could bite the sensitive spot on my neck that nearly sent me over the edge without him. His thrusts quickened, harsher but not rough.
Never
rough. His touch and kisses promised only perfection.

And he gave it.

He grunted and slammed inside as deeply as he could fit. I tightened against his cock.

And we were one.

His heat coated me as I collapsed into the same shattered excitement that had stolen me before. I fell limp against his hands and surrendered.

I cried out only once, calling his name and nothing more in my last, desperate grip of sanity.

The rest of everything I had to say, every secret, every dark and confusing emotion, I tucked inside and hid. I held onto him instead and buried my head in his shoulder. Nate did the same.

We rolled onto our sides, safe and warm on a blanket in the most beautiful place in the world. I counted stars again, just to ensure they still rested in the sky. His breath returned to normal. He pulled me close again. I sunk into his arms, turning to seek comfort in the strength of his chest.

I didn’t know what to say.

Nothing I thought was right or honest or could explain how I felt.

And so I held tight to him, protected and warm. Then, once our bodies stirred again, we moved together in pleasure once more.

I made love to him all night, except love wasn’t something to
make
. It was a curse to inflict and a struggle for us both.

As much as I denied it, I’d never escape the truth that passed every moment I rested safe in his arms.

I was falling for him.

And it was the worst and best thing that might have happened to me.

S
ome men said
chivalry is its own reward.

I always thought they were full of shit.

I told myself I was in it for the reward. That I left my bed at one in the morning to help a group of stranded girls on the off-chance that Mandy would make it worth my while.

Christ, was I an idiot.

I raced to their car because the thought of them trapped on a deserted highway in the middle of nowhere made my skin crawl. I wasn’t leaving Mandy to be rescued by a sketchy midnight tow-truck driver.

It didn’t matter if she sat or spat on my face, I wanted to make sure she was safe.

That wasn’t like me.

But…chivalry did get me a night wrapped in the arms of the most beautiful girl in the world. Maybe there was something to it.

It worked once, so I tried again. I woke the Barbie Hangover House with breakfast.

Mandy, ever the responsible one, had packed a cooler with sausages, bacon, eggs, English muffins, and orange juice. I hated to wake her. She’d finally collapsed at five AM, and she snuck into the house to sleep on the couch. I still had her sock in my pocket, but we lost her panties in the lake.

If it were up to me, she wouldn’t have gotten dressed. Probably would’ve been an awkward breakfast with her fellow bridesmaids, but hell, they were women. They understood what it was like to get fucked every which way from Sunday.

Unfortunately, most of them learned from me.

Mandy rolled off the couch, plopping onto the floor. She groaned, stood, and bolted to the bathroom, nearly tripping over herself to close the door.

Why was she so insecure? I’d have fucked the hell out of her, bedhead and all.

She emerged a few minutes later looking exhausted. Probably my fault.

Entirely
my fault.

I kicked the dining room chair out for her and sat a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the table. She shook her head.

“Not a breakfast person. Thank you though.” She scooted the plate away with the edge of her finger and didn’t look at me. “I figured you’d have left by now.”

Maybe, if she had been any other girl. “I wouldn’t miss a chance to butter your muffin.”

Her eyebrow arched. “What?”

I offered her a plate with the toasted English muffins. “What’d you think I meant?”

“God only knows.”

“Want to find out?”

“You should behave.”

“Why? There’s no fun in behaving.”

I leaned close. She stilled as I brushed my lips against hers, but a thud from one of the rooms spooked the hell out of her. Mandy jumped away.

“Nate—last night…I don’t know what happened, but…”

“Greatest night of my life.”

I reached for her again. She avoided me and lowered her voice, watching for the other bridesmaids.

So we were doing this on the sly? Fine by me, but the thought of getting caught just got me more excited.

“I know it was fun for you,” I said. “Hate to say I outdid myself, but…”

“I’m not sure what happened.”

“We had sex.”

“Well…I know that much, but…” Mandy twisted her fingers in a napkin. “I shouldn’t have asked you to stay. It was selfish, and I wasn’t thinking—”

“What part of
greatest night of my life
don’t you get?” I edged closer. “I would have asked to stay anyway, and you would have said yes. We both knew what we wanted.”

“I know. I wanted it then. But now? You know I’m not the
simple pleasure
type.”

But I was. That much was true.

Mandy bit her lip. What the hell was it was about her that made her seem so soft, so vulnerable, so utterly irresistible.

I could be honest. “I don’t think it’s ever gonna be simple with you.”

“I don’t think it is either,” she said.

“I’m not afraid of complicated.”

She didn’t believe me. “That’s not you, Nate.”

“How do you know what’s me?” Hell if I
even
knew what I wanted. “Maybe I like complicated with you.”

“You have no idea how complicated it could get.”

“Try me.”

The doors to the spare bedrooms opened. Mandy flinched away from me like she was caught with my cock in her mouth.

A man could dream.

Hungry, cranky, hungover bridesmaids spilled into the living room and kitchen, swearing off liquor and men and everything but chocolate. The bathrooms crowded with them throwing up memories of last night, and only Lindsey seemed halfway normal.

Then again, she stumbled into the fridge and giggled.

Still tipsy. That explained it.

The Bloody Mary would stem her headache until after breakfast at least. Mandy stepped aside as Lindsey unloaded a second cooler full of beer, mixers, and liquor.

Lindsey set a bottle of tequila on the counter. She swirled the amber liquid.

“Did I bite the stripper?” She stared into the distance.

Mandy nodded. “Yep. Right on the tush.”

Damn, these girls knew how to party. Lindsey shrugged.

“Ah well,” she said. “It happens. Let’s get down to dancing!”

Mandy didn’t seem keen on the
tush
biting or dancing. Lindsey sucked down half of her liquid breakfast and nudged her sister with an elbow.

“Mandy, gonna show Nate some of your moves?”

The images in my head were not fit for a strip joint let alone a wedding. “I think I’ve seen most of them already.”

Mandy awkwardly crossed her arms. “I can’t dance.”

“Sure you can.” I flexed my own hips. “You know how to bump and grind.”

Lindsey snacked on a piece of bacon, turning to rummage through the cooler. Mandy poked a finger into my chest, her eyes wide.

“Don’t start,” she whispered.

“Start what?”

“
Anything
.”

“Baby, I never stopped.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m afraid of.”

Lindsey poured Mandy a Bloody Mary. “Now, you’re gonna need the most help to learn this routine. It has to be
perfect
, so get focused.”

Mandy didn’t drink. “Then shouldn’t I be sober?”

“You’re even more awkward sober. Believe me. You need a drink.”

If I was sticking around to watch this, I’d want a drink too. And probably some popcorn.

The girls descended on breakfast like a pack of ravenous hyenas, laughing and braying and snapping at the others for being too loud with their headaches. It took them five minutes to destroy the meal I prepared and an hour to get ready to dance, which didn’t make much sense since most of them just tossed on yoga pants and put their hair up.

But, until last night, I only fucked women; I didn’t try to understand them.

Mandy was the first one I attempted to figure out, and she made chasing her into a goddamned competitive sport. I didn’t know if I was supposed to tackle her, drift behind her, or score. Not like she’d tell me what the hell to expect either.

“Okay, girls. I need you all in a line.” Lindsey clapped her hands. “You better stretch too. This isn’t going to be quick, and it’s certainly not going to be easy. You’ve been warned.”

Lindsey’s idea of a bachelorette weekend party included a mandatory dancing boot camp. Some of her plans weren’t bad. I liked watching Mandy squirm in embarrassment while she pranced in tiny boy shorts emblazoned with rhinestones slapping the word
MAID
on her ass. She tugged the clingy material down, but they hardly covered her little bridesmaid booty.

It might have been nice if the girls weren’t seven sticks of dynamite waiting to blow—both me and what fragile progress I’d made with Mandy.

Lindsey chose her college friends as her bridesmaids—Carmen, Peaches, Caitlyn, Amy, and…red head. I didn’t remember her name. That was a problem, especially since I had slept with her five months ago.

Well, I slept with most of the bridal party over the past few months. It hadn’t been a major concern before—they all knew it was just one night of fun. But what was amusing before suddenly became dangerous. The bridesmaids wiggled, shimmied, teased, and baited me with every shake of their tits or twerk of their asses.

And Mandy noticed.

Not sure if I should have worried about that. She wanted complicated? She got it.

Lindsey ordered me to move the furniture. I shifted the couch and TV into the hall so they’d have room to dance. Then the bullshit started.

Caitlyn squeezed my bicep and giggled about how
strong
I was. Not sure what I saw in her before…then again I couldn’t see much around her double D rack. But she didn’t rock curves nearly as well as Mandy.

Peaches—I was certain that wasn’t her real name but damned if I had bothered asking—blew me a kiss when the girls lined up to dance. Red head mimicked blowing something a little differently.

Thankfully Mandy didn’t see Amy grab my ass.

These girls stalked me, half-starved and drooling for meat.

“Where are you going?” Lindsey planted her hands on her hips as I attempted to sneak out. “We need you to watch.”

Mandy nearly spilled her water. “No, we really don’t. Not when we’re learning.”

“Shame is an excellent motivator.”

“If that were the case, I’d have mastered the steps by now.” Mandy waved a hand at me. “Go, Nate. Shoo.
Be gone
.”

As she wished. I took a step. Lindsey pinched my arm.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Lindsey pulled a camping chair from a closet and sat me in it. “You have to tell us if we’re in sync. I can’t see the entire ensemble, especially during Thriller.”

“So you’re really doing the Thriller dance?” I laughed.

“Why?”

“Seems cliché.”

I missed Mandy’s frantic arm motions warning me to avoid the confrontation at all costs. Lindsey screeched. The girls’ flirty pouts turned to legit irritation.

Great. Seven pissed off, underfed, hungover women sneered at me.

I cleared my throat. “But I’m sure your dance will bring something new and innovative.”

“Damn right.” Lindsey turned to her girls. “Okay, we’re going to work on the flash mob portion. Mandy, this is all you. When you hear
The Funky Chicken
, you’re the first onto the dance floor.”

Mandy looked ready to puke. “Are you
serious
?”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Yes! Twelve hours ago you
banished
me from the wedding! Now I’m starting a flash mob to
The
Funky Chicken
?”

“Serves you right for leaving the wedding party.”

“Lindsey, can’t
anyone
else do it?”

“It has to be you. Once the party sees
you
start to dance, they’ll know something special is about to happen.”

“Or something super embarrassing.”

“Which is why they’ll all watch!” Lindsey slapped Mandy’s hand down as she scratched her elbow. “Stand up straight. You’ll do
The
Funky Chicken
, all the bridesmaids will migrate onto the floor in a circle, and then we’ll transition into the
Cha Cha Slide
.”

The girls giggled. Lindsey singled out Amy. “What are
you
laughing at? Your Cha Cha makes me want to Gag Gag. We need to be
identical
out there, but we only have two days to learn a seven minute, fourteen song medley.”

Mandy groaned. “
Seven
minutes? Why don’t we just learn one three minute song and do it well?”

“Damn it, Mandy!” Lindsey stomped her foot. “That would completely overshadow the bride and groom doing the final number from Dirty Dancing.”

Even if I didn’t have any more sex, this little information was worth the trip. “The
what
now?”

Lindsey stuck her finger in my face. “It’s a surprise. Tell anyone and I’ll gut you, Nate.”

“Does Bryce know about this dance?”

“He’ll be fine with it.”

I laughed. It wasn’t the reaction Lindsey wanted, but I couldn’t imagine the former linebacker channeling his inner Patrick Swayze.

Lindsey shushed me and positioned her girls “off-stage” while she tapped play on her iPhone. The speakers echoed
The Funky Chicken
over the cabin. She pushed Mandy forward.

“And I want to see
real
flapping!”

Mandy got as far as the second clap before running from the room, citing a bathroom break. Lindsey groaned, nearly tossing her into the fireplace when she returned.

“
Flap
, Mandy, before I peck you myself!”

Mandy weakly fluttered her elbows and bobbed. The girls cackled.

I had no idea I could be so entertained by a girl if I wasn’t fucking her.

Sure, I had a girl naked, writhing, coming at my command all last night, but I’d never spent time with any afterwards. Usually it was me, Sportscenter, and a dry bowl of cereal.

This
? The awkward flapping, off-beat clapping, and hilariously overcompensated booty shake? This was
fantastic
.

I could get used to hanging with Mandy like this.

But she
didn’t see the fun in it. Mandy refused to look me in the eyes, like I’d think she was any less beautiful because she couldn’t figure out her right from her left. She was sexy in her own way. She might have been a danger to herself and others on the dance floor, but when I had held her in my arms and led her through the music during the string quartet auditions, she had melted. Surrendered.

Would have done anything for me.

I shifted. This was the single most uncomfortable hard-on I ever had, and the most dangerous. The last thing I wanted was a boner surrounded by a room full of banshees, bitches, bimbos, and Mandy. Six out of the seven I had slept with. Great.

I hoped Lindsey would take pity on us all. I just needed ten minutes with Mandy. Thirty and I’d go twice. That little Funky Chicken had been up all night for me, and she’d love it.

We weren’t that lucky.

Two hours and four bathroom breaks later, a butchered rendition of
Single Ladies
made it abundantly clear why no one had put a ring on the girls yet. Lindsey flipped shit.

“For Christ’s sake, Mandy, where in my choreography does it say to stop and
scratch
your leg?”

Mandy was one pirouette from a nervous breakdown. She didn’t stop scratching. “Linds, I’m sorry! I can’t whip or
nae nae
anymore!”