by M. S. Parker
He sipped his scotch and lapsed into another strained silence.
I curled my hands into the arms of my chair as I waited.
“DeLaria told me they went to stay with her aunt. Nobody would think to look for either of them there. It seems she was right. Everything was going…okay. Nathalie was pregnant and seemed to be doing fine. Then she went into labor. They couldn’t get to a hospital.” He stared off at nothing now, reciting the words as if relaying a story some stranger had told him. “She’d been having back pains but figured it was from the pregnancy. She hadn’t been due for another week. She didn’t realize she was in labor until it was too late for them to get to the hospital.”
He flicked a look at me. “DeLaria and her aunt delivered the baby. Neither of them realized anything was wrong with Nathalie until it was too late. She’d been hemorrhaging and…”
He lapsed into silence.
“They couldn’t stop the bleeding,” I finished, speaking for the first time in what felt like hours.
Ryder looked into his scotch glass as he answered, “No. They couldn’t. They tried, but…but it was too late. Nathalie died in the car on the way to the hospital.” He tossed back the rest of the scotch.
I watched as the elegantly-cut crystal glass fell to the carpeted floor. It bounced once, then rolled away.
“She knew she wasn’t going to make it,” he said after a few seconds. “Nathalie told DeLaria she wanted her to raise the baby.”
I almost blurted out the question, but why not come to you?
I had a feeling he’d wondered that himself. I remained quiet instead.
“DeLaria has been living with her aunt in Spain ever since. But a few months ago, she went to the doctor over some problems she’s been having.” His eyes came to mine. “She’s got MS. It’s advancing fast even with treatment. She didn’t want to take the chance that something would happen to her and Natanael wouldn’t have anybody. That’s when she made the decision to find me and bring me my son.”
He drew in a deep breath, then looked over at me. “Up until DeLaria showed up here at this house, I had no idea he even existed.”
He got up and paced over to the window, staring outside. “I had no idea Nathalie was dead. I’ve spent the past couple years shut down over what she did to me, and all that time, she was already dead.” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “My son is nearly thirteen months old and I didn’t know he existed.”
My heart ached for him. I rose slowly, uncertain of what I wanted to do, but my body knew. I found myself walking over to him, and I wrapped my arms around him from behind, pressing my face to his back.
A hard breath shuddered out of him.
I rubbed my lips against him and kissed him gently through the material of his shirt.
What did I do now?
What did I say?
I couldn’t think of anything, couldn’t find a single word, so I stood there with my arms wrapped around him and held him in the cool, gentle stillness of the house.
My mind raced as we stood there. This was so not what I’d been expecting to hear. I hadn’t known just what I thought the story was behind Ryder’s son, but this…no, I hadn’t been expecting this.
My heart ached for all of them.
“Are you going to leave now?” Ryder asked, his voice stiff.
Common sense told me I should. This was still far more complicated than things between us were ever supposed to get.
Ryder was a father now.
He had responsibilities.
“What’s going to happen with you and…” I paused to search my brain for the boy’s name. “Natanael? Have you thought that far ahead?”
“He’s my son,” Ryder said quietly. “I’m going to be a father to him. I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I know that much. My son is going to know his father.”
He turned then and faced me.
My heart skipped a beat when he cupped my face in his hands. Faint moonlight filtered in through the window, casting his face in a mix of shadow and moonlight.
“I don’t expect anything out of you,” he said softly. “This is my concern, and I’ll handle it. I’ll raise my son. If I can help DeLaria, I will. But it doesn’t have to affect…us. Does it?”
I closed my eyes and leaned in, pressing my face against his chest. He slid his arms around my upper body, holding me in close.
My mind raced.
I had no idea what to say.
I knew what I wanted – and that was to be with Ryder.
Before I even realized I’d decided, I opened my mouth. “No. It doesn’t have to affect us.”
18
Breanna
Tension seemed to melt from Ryder at my words, and he tightened his hold on me, burying his face against my neck.
For what felt like an eternity, we stood there like that, me wrapped in the shelter of his arms while he clung to me.
Tears burned my eyes, but I blinked them back, and when he finally eased away to peer down at me, I met his gaze directly.
“I want you,” he said, words raw. “Always.”
He seemed to be waiting for permission, so I rose onto my toes and slid my hands up his chest, linking them behind his neck.
I tugged his head down to meet mine and kissed him. A shudder wracked his body, then he was lifting me, carrying me over to the couch on the far side of the room.
He put me down on my feet and held my eyes as he stripped my coat away. He tossed it on the nearby chair, and a moment later, blouse and skirt followed.
Standing in front of him wearing panties, knee-high leather boots, and socks, I shivered.
“Are you cold?” Ryder asked, pressing his lips to my shoulder. “I can turn on the fireplace.”
I shook my head even as another shiver racked me.
He pulled away, and I wrapped my arms around my middle as he went over to the wall. He pushed a button and the gas fireplace on the far side of the room leaped to life, flames dancing merrily.
His eyes roamed over me as he returned, and I held still as he reached for the arms I’d folded around myself. He dragged them down, eyes on mine. “I want to see you.”
I caught my breath as he guided my hands to the small of my back and pinned them there. The position forced my spine to arch and my breasts lifted.
Ryder dipped his head and brushed a kiss across the top curve of my right breast, then my left before turning us around. He sank down onto the couch, drawing me with him so that I straddled his lap.
He steadied me as I wobbled a little, my balance off due to his grip on my hands. The heat of his cock pressed against me through his jeans, and I moaned, rocking my hips forward to deepen the contact.
“Kiss me, Bree,” he said, voice rough. “I want your mouth.”
I pressed my lips to his, still moving against his cock, heat swelling inside me. I tugged against the hold he had on my wrists, but he didn’t let go.
To be honest, I didn’t put much effort into it. Just having him hold me like this, so lightly restrained, was making my head spin.
Sucking his lip into my mouth, I bit down on him lightly.
A hard shudder wracked him.
I rubbed the small hurt with my tongue, then slid inside his mouth, seeking more.
His tongue moved to glide against mine, echoing the pace I’d set with my hips, and I moved against him.
I wanted to touch him.
Again, I pulled at my wrists.
He tightened his grip slightly, and I lifted my head to stare down at him.
In the golden gleam cast by the fireplace, I could see the stark, raging hunger burning in him.
It made me shudder.
“Let go of my wrists,” I said.
“If I do that, you’ll start touching me, and this will all be over.” His eyes roamed greedily over me, and he shook his head. “I don’t want it to be over.”
I groaned in frustration.
Ryder shifted position abruptly, and I found myself lying fl
at on my back. He’d readjusted his grip on my wrists, and now my hands were pinned over my head.
His mouth came down on mine, and I opened for him as his tongue swept into my mouth.
I sucked on him greedily.
After a few seconds, he broke away, his mouth sliding down to my neck, then my right breast. He caught my nipple and sucked into his mouth, teasing it to a hard, aching nub before shifting his attention to my other side.
As he moved lower on my body, he was forced to let go of my wrists, and I caught his shoulders, my nails piercing into his skin through his shirt. He groaned raggedly against me as he dragged my panties down.
His breath teased the curls between my legs, and I shivered in anticipation, spreading my legs as he moved to settle between them.
He didn’t touch me right away – at least not where I needed for him to touch. He trailed burning paths up my thighs toward my cunt, always stopping just shy of where I wanted him to be.
I was thrashing on the couch long before he finally brushed a light kiss against my clit. I cried out and thrust up against him, spearing my fingers into his hair trying to hold him close.
He flicked a look up at me from where he sprawled, half on the couch, half on the floor. Hot light burned in his eyes and he continued to watch me as he lowered his mouth to where I was wet and aching for him.
A noise lodged in my throat, all but choking me as he licked me, one slow glide of his tongue that opened me, top to bottom.
I jerked as he stabbed his tongue at me next, rapid little strokes against my clit that had me rocking up to meet each one while I greedily pressed his face more firmly against me.
He caught my butt in his hands and lifted me.
I moaned as he worked me higher, greedy for every touch, every stroke. I heard an answering growl from him, and it vibrated all the way through me, making me whimper.
Each sound I made, each movement, they all seemed to spur him on, and he feasted on me like he was famished.
The orgasm settled inside me, growing and growing until I thought it would consume me. I clung to him, begging and pleading, until he finally shoved me over, and I fell moaning straight into one of the most intense climaxes of my life.
He came up over me then, his mouth taking mine. I tasted myself on him, tasted him. The combination was a heady one, and I couldn’t get enough.
Reaching between us, I caught the button on his jeans and freed it, then dragged the zipper down over his swollen flesh.
He grunted as I freed his cock and pumped against my hand as I stroked him. He tore his mouth from mine and pushed up, staring down at my hand as I pumped my fist up and down.
“The things you do to me,” he muttered. His lashes drooped down, shielding his eyes.
But I’d caught the dark, turbulent hunger.
It fed into mine, and soon, I was just as desperate for him as I had been before the climax.
He covered my hand with one of his and tightened my grip around his cock, guiding me until I was stroking him with a frenzied sort of roughness.
Under my hand, I felt him swell, felt the jerking of his cock.
Like this, I thought, dazed. I wanted to make him come like this.
But Ryder had other plans.
He slid off the couch and settled on his haunches. Grabbing my hips, he pulled down, his cock aimed right at my entrance. He filled me then, hard and hungry and I cried out as my weight helped impale me completely on his cock.
Our moans mingled, and I froze, staring into his eyes as he cupped my ass in his hands.
He started to guide my hips, dragging me up, then down. I took over, squeezing his hips with my knees as I worked myself over him.
He let go of my butt and reached up, cupping my breasts in his hands. My hair fell around us like a veil.
Ryder brought me in closer and caught one nipple in his mouth, teasing it until it ached before shifting his attention to the other side.
I felt his cock swell inside me, and I gasped at the sensation. It was more intense this time, more...him.
Dimly, I realized why.
I froze once more and stared at him, my mouth parting on a surprised gasp as I said, “We’re not using a condom.”
His hands clenched slightly, he shook his head as if to clear it. “No. Should we stop?”
Logic demanded yes.
I held still another few moments, then once more started to move.
Ryder caught my hips in his hands and leaned farther back, staring down our bodies to where we connected.
A shudder rocked through me at the expression on his face.
I lifted. He tugged me down and I arched up. I lifted…he tugged…it was a wild, seductive rhythm that soon had me gasping into his mouth as he kissed me.
But the climax I chased seem to linger just out of reach, and I moaned against his lips. “Please,” I begged. “Please, please, please…”
Ryder moved again, shifting and spreading me out beneath him on the floor.
He caught my thighs and pushed them wide, his hands at the bends of my knees as he slammed into me.
I felt the impact right through the heart of me.
“More…”
He did it again, and again, and soon, the orgasm tightened inside me. Ryder moved harder, faster and I bucked under him as I started to come.
He swore as I went tight around him, he was then falling on top of me, his hands braced on either side of my head. It drove him even deeper, and I cried out.
Still, he moved, surging into me again and again…
Then, as the waves of my climax continued to blast through me, Ryder went rigid.
I felt his cock swell and stiffen, so hard it should be hurting me. But it wasn’t. I loved it and wiggled against him, clamping down around him.
He groaned, a low growl that vibrated through me, and his hips pistoned in hard, quick circles.
When he came, I felt it inside me, as the hot, wet wash of his orgasm filled me.
Ryder went to pull away. I groaned, hating the absence of his heat.
“I’m crushing you,” he muttered, pushing up until his body hovered over mine.
“I like it,” I said, cupping his cheek.
“You’ll like it just as much if we’re in bed, and I’m holding you there.”
I couldn’t argue with him.
But…
I licked my lips. “It’s getting late.”
Before I could say anything about going home, he kissed me softly. “Stay the night.”
“I have to work,” I told him.
“Get up a little earlier. We can go to bed now. It’s not that late.”
The hopeful expression in his eyes got to me, and I found myself nodding.
Ryder grinned at me, and I caught my breath as he stood, pulling me to my feet then sweeping me up into his arms. I wiggled around nervously. “I can walk.”
“And I can carry you,” he said, pressing his lips to my temple. “I want to.”
Helpless against the rough hunger in his voice, I relaxed against him and wrapped my arm around his shoulders.
We moved through the dark, quiet house, and soon, he had me upstairs.
We were in a different bedroom this time, and I knew, instinctively, it was his bedroom. The lights were off, and I couldn’t make out anything beyond the pale square of moonlight that fell through the big window.
But I could smell him – his scent surrounded me, and I snuggled in closer as he carried me to the bed.
Once I was there, he put me down, then reached over to draw the comforter and sheets back.
I slid in, the linens cool against my heated flesh.
Before I could get cold, though, he was around the bed and sliding in on the other side. He pulled me up against him, and I closed my eyes.
One hand sought out my hip, and we wiggled, adjusted, until we found a fit, both of us on our sides, my head tucked under his chin.
It felt amazingly right.
It should have been
easy, so easy, to slip into sleep.
Ryder did, and as his breathing slowed, then steadied, I told myself to relax, to follow him into unconsciousness.
My mind wouldn’t settle though.
Despite my self-assurances, and my assurances to Ryder, some part of me doubted that we could go on as if nothing had changed.
How was it even possible?
Things had changed.
Everything had changed.
This was no longer two single people out just looking to have a good time.
Ryder was a father now.
He would have to adjust his priorities.
I had to respect that.
As for me…well, judging by the ache that settled in the center of my chest, I had to confess it, if only to myself.
I was no longer just looking for a good time.
Considering the changes in Ryder’s life, I had absolutely no idea how we were going to find level ground.
Maybe we were fooling each other, thinking we could continue as if nothing had changed.
But I wasn’t ready to let him go either.
I acknowledged that and finally slid into an uneasy sleep, lying there, wrapped in Ryder’s arms.
19
Breanna
That uncertainty was still lingering with me several days later.
I finished up the work I had planned to get done for the day, keeping a close eye on the time.
I’d asked if I could leave early that day and had been given the okay, so I’d worked like a fiend to meet the deadlines I’d set for myself for the week. I’d still have most of Monday to wrap up the Howard project, and I was meeting with some of Ryder’s people Tuesday to start finalizing everything for the revamped catalog.
I was something of a perfectionist when it came to work and had never missed a deadline, so I wasn’t too concerned about work once I finally powered down my computer.
