ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance) (40 page)

He tried to tell himself to calm down. To get over it. But it didn’t work.

The flight landed and his heart fluttered up in his throat. Jesus, he was acting like a kid. He didn’t even know if he could do this, if she was going to make things awkward for them to work together. If she even wanted him as an employee. Maxine’s people were impressed with him, so he at least had another job lined up. The thought stabbed at him, though.

A few first class passengers filtered off, and there she was, in painted on jeans, and a ruffly off-the-shoulder top. Oversize sunglasses and the red hair that drove him wild pulled up in a messy bun she wore sometime around the house. Her heels matched her shirt, and her toenails were painted the same red as her hair. He wanted her here and now.

Instead, he raised a hand and waved.

She did the same, her painted lips breaking into a wide smile.

Some random fan figured out who she was, and paused for a photo with her. Kevin stood behind her, watching the people in the terminal. He led Bristol to Lucas, they shook hands, and Kevin headed off for a few much needed days off.

Lucas led her out to the car. They were only stopped three more time by fans.

He opened the door for her on the Hummer, and made sure she was safely inside.

In the car they talked about a new sci-fi novel they’d both read. Manned missions to Mars going poorly, astronauts stranded and encountering alien life forms. She kept her sunglasses on, was friendly, but nothing more. Good. This was what he wanted. Maybe things would just get back to normal?

*              *              *

During the ride she tried to find the right time to tell him she was pregnant, but it never came. Better to do it at home, where if he needed to he could storm off. The mansion gates slid open for them, and he pulled inside.

He came around to get her door in the broad driveway of the mansion, just like he always did. She’d told him a hundred times he didn’t have to, but she’d long ago given up. She felt like a diva princess just waiting for him to come around, but in truth she kind of liked it. When he did, his face was awfully close to hers. The scent of his aftershave filled her nostrils and she reached out, ran her fingers across his face. He paused for a beat, and in that moment she was certain he would tell her it was over, but instead he kissed her, guiding her out of her seat and pressing her body against the car. God, she had wanted him so long.

He slid strong hands up her loose blouse and she leaned into him.

Instead of the guest house, she led him into her home. Her staff completely redid the master suite in her absence, getting rid of everything Ricky and making it all Bristol. Everything was purple, and her new king-sized bed demanded to be broken in. The blouse came off as soon as they crossed the threshold, revealing a black lace bra she’d put on that morning hoping Lucas would see. He undid the buttons on her jeans.

Bristol’s panties matched the bra: black lace, and very, very skimpy.

She pulled his shirt off. Undressing a man, somehow, was new territory for her. Mmmm, she’d missed his tattoos and his muscles. She undid his belt, and pulled his jeans down. He stepped out of them. Black boxers.

“Take your’s off,” he said.

Being commanded to do something thrilled her. She complied. “Now pleasure me.”

So hot. She actually looked forward to taking him in her mouth.

“You can tap out any time,” he said.

She consumed him, smearing lipstick on his shaft. He wove his hands in her hair and thrust into her mouth, but the pressure only aroused her, because she knew he’d stop if she told him to. She’d never enjoyed this act before, but it drove her crazy to work on Lucas. She felt like the most beautiful woman in the world as his breathing quickened, his hips started to buck, and he filled her mouth with the evidence of his enjoyment.

Then he kissed her, something Ricky never, ever did. He threw her down and rolled her over. Told her to get on her hands and knees. He pushed the lace panties aside.

Lucas spent a moment pleasuring her with his mouth as he got hard again, then he rubbed himself against her cleft. She’d never done it like this before, and she gasped as his massiveness filled her. The angle let him get deeper inside her, and she stifled a moan of pleasure. He held her hips, moving easily at first as they acclimated to one another.

He reached around her and massaged her clit, sending lightning bolts through her. Sensory overload, everything felt so good she couldn’t focus, found it hard to stay up on her hands and knees. He thrust harder and harder, now gripping her hips so tight she knew it was going to leave bruises.

They both came together as he mounted her from behind, flopping together into a pile on the sheets. She’d been so tired from the travel she’d fallen asleep shortly thereafter. While almost half asleep though she mumbled to him. “We really need to talk about something.”

Lucas just hummed in acknowledgment, and the two of them drifted off.

He stayed the night in her room, in her bed, holding her while she slept. Everything was perfect until the next morning.

6

Lucas lay in the massive bed, listening to the sounds of Bristol retching in the bathroom. Weird. She’d said she was okay, told him to stay put. So he checked his phone. A text from Kevin.

What the hell are you doing?!?!?!?

Then a link to the Daily Sun, which showed a grainy, telephoto picture of his body pressing Bristol’s body into the side of his Hummer, her arms around him, his hands up her shirt, their mouths mashed together. Her red hair stood out against the black of the truck like a beacon. The caption read “Over Ricky already, Bristol Maitland moves on to handsome bodyguard.”

His phone buzzed again, another from Kevin.

Also, high five
.

Jesus, he had to cut this thing short before it went any farther. There couldn’t be any more pictures like this out there.

She stepped out of the bathroom wearing his t-shirt, which hung huge on her, and the skimpy black panties from the night before. Now the bun she’d tucked her hair into really was messy and spur of the moment, but still incredibly beautiful.

He knew they couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t bear the idea of her leaving him someday, and what did he have to offer a girl like her? Big fat nothing. The novelty would wear off, and she’d want someone in her own class.

“I have to tell you something.” She started saying while Lucas was lost in his own worries.

“Well, I just got a text—”

“Stop.”

He stopped and put down his phone.

“Lucas.” He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. Damn, he had to get out of here. Call this thing off. He didn’t think he could be around her. He wanted her so badly. Already his gaze played over the way the t-shirt hung on her thighs. He knew it was all going to end badly for him.

“I’m pregnant.”

He blinked at her, took a moment to process the words.

Well, this certainly explained the throwing up.

It was like a science fiction novel where the hull of the ship was breached and all the breathable air went rushing from the room.

“You said you couldn’t.” He almost asked if she was sure it was his, but bit his tongue. If she was telling him, it was probably his.

“I guess I can.” She paused. “I decided to keep it.”

If there had been any air left, now that was sucked out into space too. Lucas Block: Dad. No way. He realized he was shaking his head.

“It’s okay. I don’t want or need anything from. You know I’m obviously set for money. I just…thought you should know.”

He had to get out of here. He forgot all about the media storm he was part of now. Had to leave the room with no air. He found his boxers, tugged them on. Got out of bed. Yanked on his jeans, gave the t-shirt up for lost.

“I need to think this over. Need some time. Sorry.” He headed for the door. He stopped. He was being a dick. He knew it, but he didn’t care.

Better than being a father. What kind of father would he be given the example he had growing up?

He didn’t look back.

*              *              *

Bristol stood in the bathroom doorway, listening to the sound of Lucas rushing down the stairs.

Okay. She wasn’t in any worse position than she’d been in yesterday.

Still, she had held on to the hope that maybe he’d decided he wanted to try being more than one night.

She was fine. She was happy, healthy. Her career was going gangbusters. The baby didn’t have to hurt that, and if it did, it just meant she was about to open a new chapter in her life. She was okay.

Bristol burst into tears. She didn’t feel okay. She’d fallen for more than her bodyguard’s rock hard abs and bedroom moves. He liked to read. She thought back to the night two months ago when they’d lain in one another’s arms talking about spaceships and faster than light travel and alien worlds. Stories and characters beloved to both of them. They hadn’t slept, too excited to talk the whole night away.

Her phone buzzed. She picked it up. Nineteen missed messages, blurry though her tears.

All from Ricky.

HOW COULD U

TRAMP

WHORE

HOW LONG WERE U FUCKING HIM BEHIND MY BACK?????

On and on the messages went. How could he know? And how could he think she would cheat on him? And why wouldn’t she cheat on him?

But how could he know? If he was watching her, she needed to know, and that meant talking to…Lucas.

She kicked off the uncomfortable panties (sexy, but they rode up her ass like crazy) put on a pair of plain white cotton underwear, some yoga pants, and swapped out the shirt that smelled like Lucas for a sports bra and tank top. She headed downstairs, half expecting to find his Hummer gone. Then what would she do? He wouldn’t have just deserted her…

The car sat where they’d left it the day before. She crossed the driveway, the pavement already hot under her bare feet. She came to the guest house door. Glanced over at her beloved pool, where she hadn’t been for months.

She knocked on his door.

He threw it open. He hadn’t put a shirt on yet, and his dragons and skulls stood out vividly against his skin. “I’m not doing this right now.”

She shook her head. Thrust her phone at him. Let him see Ricky’s wrath. “How can he know?”

Lucas cursed. “I saw it this morning and was going to tell you.”

It?

He went for his own phone, and when he handed it to her, she saw herself, pressed up against Lucas’ Hummer like a streetwalker. She needed higher fences. She read the headline. She thought about other tabloid photos. Drunken singers making fools of themselves for all the world to see. It could have been worse.

In the grainy photo his hand was up her shirt, exposing a tanned sliver of her stomach.

“God, everyone’s seen this.” She laughed. “My mother’s going to disown me. My fans. And when they find out I’m knocked up...” she let her voice trail off.

She knew other women who’d come back from worse, stronger and more popular than ever. She had been so careful with her image though, something Ricky had done his best to tarnish, and since he’d left, she’d actually done more damage than he ever could.

Without a word, she left Lucas and headed back to her house. He didn’t follow. She changed into her bathing suit, this time a black one piece, and she jumped in her pool and swam.

Later that afternoon she called her publicist, after hearing the sound of her phone buzz several times as Lindsay tried to get in touch with her. She was kind of the last person Bristol wanted to talk to, but she couldn’t put the conversation off any longer.

“Thank god you called back!” Lindsay said. “Who’s the guy? How do we spin this?”

“You’re the one in charge of figuring the spin. He was a one-time thing to get my mind of Ricky prancing all over LA with his new flame.” The thought of all those text messages made her cheeks burn.

“Hmm, okay. I was hoping he was a new beau. Then we could show you moving on.”

“It’s been a few months…I can get a little action, can’t I?”

“Sure. The Bristol Maitland we’ve spent the past seven years creating probably shouldn’t though.”

“I was in my own driveway.”

“Looks like they used a drone to take it. Creepy if you ask me.”

“I’ve got worse news.”

“Oh God.”

“Well, I think it’s good news. And it’s up to you to make everyone else think so, too.”

“Okay…”

“Linds, I’m pregnant.”

Lindsay didn’t miss a beat. “Congratulations! When’s it due?”

“April.”

“So.” Lindsay must be counting in her head, then. “It’s Ricky’s? He left you pregnant?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m keeping it, it’s going to be great.”

“So it’s…not Ricky’s?”

“It’s mine.”

“You gotta tell me so I can be prepared for whatever they fire at me.”