The Freeman Brothers: A Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Natasha L. Black

  I looked up just in time for him to walk past the open door to Peter’s office.

  “Was that your dad?” Peter asked in an awed whisper.

  “Yeah,” I said. “He’ll be back in a second when he figures out I’m not in my office.”

  “That was Gus Freeman?” he asked, looking through the door and leaning like he was trying to see him.

  I followed his stare, then glanced back at him. “Um. Yeah. My father is Gus Freeman.”

  “I can’t believe it. He’s seriously right here?”

  “That’s right, you didn’t get to meet him. He wasn’t at the race you went to, was he?” I asked.

  Peter shook his head adamantly. “No. He wasn’t. And it was a big enough deal to meet all your brothers. I never thought I would meet him.”

  “Of course you’re going to meet him. You’re one of us now, right?” I asked.

  I was accustomed to that sort of reaction to my father. He was a local legend, so it wasn’t unusual for people to be a little bit starstruck when he was around. But I didn’t want Peter to be so shaken up by him being around. Dad himself barely even recognized that people knew who he was, much less that he had a considerable amount of local fame. He wouldn’t want Peter to be uncomfortable around him.

  “There you are,” Dad said, poking his head into the office. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  “Hey, Dad, come in,” I said. “This is Peter. He’s the new junior investor Gabe and I hired to help us out around here. And by the way he’s been performing, I’m thinking it won’t be that long before he loses that whole junior title. Peter, this is my old man.”

  “Gus Freeman,” Dad said, holding his hand out to Peter.

  “I know, sir. It is such an incredible honor to meet you,” Peter said.

  Dad smiled. “And I hear you’ve joined up the ranks of the Freeman boys. You even got yourself a spot at the bar.”

  Peter nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Then I hope I’ll be seeing you around a lot more,” Dad said.

  Peter looked like he was going to explode. His eyes went from me to Dad, then back to me, then to Dad again. He suddenly stood up. “I’m going to go get some coffee. Does anybody else want some coffee?”

  “No, thanks,” I said.

  “None for me,” Dad said.

  Peter scurried out of the office and down the hall. I looked at my father and laughed.

  “He’s a bit of a fan,” I said. “But he’s a really good guy.”

  Figuring Peter would probably be hiding in the kitchen for a while, I followed Dad down the hallway to my office. I laughed when I saw two big cups of coffee sitting on the desk.

  “I forgot that you have your own coffee shop sitting in your office,” Dad said. “So, I brought you some.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.” I took the plastic top off the cup and leaned down to breathe in the smell. “What flavor is it?”

  “It’s a new grind from that place you like. I forgot exactly what they said it was. Maybe something with cherry?” he said.

  I took a sip and nodded. “Yeah, it tastes like dark chocolate and cherries. That’s really good.”

  We sat down on the couch at the side of my office, and Dad sipped at his coffee for a few seconds before he looked over at me.

  “I wanted to apologize to you,” he said. “Your mother gave me all the details about what happened with Bryn. I shouldn’t have corrected you like that when you were defending her. What your mother did was wrong, and she deserved to hear it. I never like to hear anybody talking to her that way, you know that. Especially one of her sons. But in this situation, you were in the right.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I felt guilty for saying those things to her, but I couldn’t just let her keep doing that to Bryn. She’s in a really delicate place in life.”

  “I heard about that, too. Congratulations, son,” Dad said.

  “Thanks,” I said. “But it isn’t just the baby. It’s everything. She’s really had people take advantage of her and try to pressure her into what they want. I think she just needs some time to breathe and figure out what she wants in life.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that,” Dad said. “And I want you to know that your mother is really sorry, too. She never meant to hurt either one of you. She just got wrapped up in the whole idea and thought she was being cute and encouraging. You know she wouldn’t have purposely done something to make Bryn uncomfortable or to hurt you.”

  “I know,” I said, nodding. “It’s done. I said everything I needed to say to her, and hopefully she got the message and isn’t going to do it anymore.”

  “I can assure you she won’t. And she wanted to make sure Bryn knew how sorry she was, too. So, she headed over to her house this morning to apologize in person.”

  I was suddenly itching to text Bryn to make sure she was okay. I believed my mother was sorry for what she did, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say I trusted she wouldn’t fall off the wagon as soon as she saw Bryn in person.

  Actually coming face-to-face with her and being able to talk to her might just push my mother past her self-restraint limitations. I wouldn’t be surprised if she completely overwhelmed Bryn with her exuberance over the new baby, and more encouragement for the two of us to get married.

  I wished I was there to provide some sort of barrier between the two women. The thing was, knowing both of them, I knew if they were able to meet and spend time together in more normal circumstances, they would form a close relationship. They had some similar personality traits and got along wonderfully at the picnic. Maybe there was still a chance of that happening someday.

  Dad didn’t stay long. He had a long list of errands he needed to run to get supplies for the custom bikes he and Kelly were building. Since she’d come along, the side business was even more popular and successful than ever. If it wasn’t for how exceptional a mechanic she was, and how important she had become to the racing team, I could see her transitioning over to designing and building these custom bikes full-time.

  Once Dad was gone, I grabbed my phone and shot off a fast text to Bryn. I told her I knew my mother had gone by to talk to her and asked if she was okay. Bryn responded quickly, but it was brief. She let me know she was okay but didn’t elaborate. I waited to get another message from her, but my phone stayed silent. I put it away and tried to get back to work.

  But no matter how hard I tried to concentrate and keep my mind on the work in front of me, it kept drifting over to her instead. It wasn’t just about wanting to know what my mother had said to her and how she was dealing with it. I still had so many questions I wanted to ask her.

  We had talked, but it felt like the conversation wasn’t complete. There was a lot I still wanted to know and needed to figure out. The most important thing on my mind was how she was feeling about me now. We had both made it clear we were trying to give the other one as much space as possible, but that’s where we dropped it. Maybe she had gotten over those feelings or didn’t think they were a good idea now.

  But in all honesty, our feelings for each other, whatever they were, were more important now than ever. I couldn’t stop myself from wondering if we were going to try to start up a relationship and work toward being an actual family.

  That was what I wanted. I had no interest in being a part-time father to my baby. That little one deserved to have its family close and intact, and to never have to go through the same kinds of struggles as Remy. Not to mention I wasn’t about to put myself in the position of clashing and fighting with Bryn over our child.

  It wasn’t just that. Figuring out how we were going to raise our child and if we were going to be able to do it together as a family was critically important. But I was also thinking about my feelings for her. They were stronger now more than ever, and I wanted to explore them. We really could have something. As frightening as it was, and as much as I felt like I was treading through uncharted territory, it was worth it to find out what possib
ly could be.

  31

  Bryn

  The sun was just barely working its way up the sky when my body woke me up. But for the first time in weeks, I wasn’t sick. I was horny. That morning I woke up turned on and aching in a way I’d never been before. This was something unexpected, intense, and inescapable. I couldn’t just not think about it and try to force myself to go back to sleep.

  That wasn’t working this time. Every time I tried to close my eyes and just will myself to drift away, my pounding heart and tingling, trembling body kept me up. It was weird, and I didn’t know why it was happening. The more I thought about it, the more I realized it was probably all the new hormones from pregnancy surging through me.

  I’d heard stories about pregnant women who were suddenly insatiable. I never understood it before, but now I was experiencing it, and nothing was going to make it go away. There was only one person who could ease this for me. This sensation was new, but somehow thrilling, like I was rediscovering my body and learning amazing things about it. I wasn’t going to let it pass me by.

  So, I did something else I had never experienced. I reached for my phone and called Nick for some phone sex.

  There was a light laughter on the other end of the line, and when Nick spoke, his voice was just a shade deeper. It brought memories of the rumbling growl that whispered in my ear as he fucked me, and my stomach tightened, and I squeezed my legs together.

  “What are you wearing?” the velvet voice asked.

  I breathed in sharply, closing my eyes and letting my fingers trail down my body.

  “Only my panties,” I cooed. My fingers were under the sheets now, tracing the rim of my waistband. I could imagine it was his fingers, his tongue, brushing against the soft skin of my hip bones.

  “I want you to touch your breast,” he commanded, and my body instantly obeyed. My free hand went to hold my heavy, round breast, massaging it and letting my palm run across my nipple, feeling it perk up underneath the touch. “Imagine me there, my tongue swirling around your nipple, my hot breath on your skin.”

  With my eyes clenched, I could focus on his voice, the image he was creating in my mind.

  “Are you touching yourself?” I whispered heavily.

  “Do you want me to?” he grumbled back. I nodded and then realized he couldn’t see me and mumbled out an affirmative response. In the background I could hear him shuffle as he stood, and a door shut. Then, a few steps later, the sound of his zipper opening sent a thrill through my body. I could see him in my vision, his shirt and tie still intact but his hand clutching his throbbing hard cock as it poked through the zipper of his slacks. Something about him still dressed for work but stroking himself with his long, thick staff out at his desk, only my voice and the memory of my body to arouse him, made me squirm and want to shove my fingers into my panties.

  “Now I want you to slide your hand into your panties,” he said, his voice like a lead mallet to my mind, making me obey without even thinking about it. As I slid my fingers inside, I pushed the damp cotton panties down so they didn’t cling to me and impede my touch. “Are you wet?” he asked.

  “So wet,” I responded nearly breathlessly. “I am so wet thinking about your cock.”

  “My cock is so hard,” he growled into my ear. “I want you to imagine it right in front of you. Sliding through your wetness. The head at the opening of your pussy. Now place your fingers there.”

  I followed the instruction but didn’t jump ahead. The fantasy was melding with the illicitness of taking his instruction, and the image of him in his suit, stroking himself while ordering me to touch myself.

  “They are,” I forced out, barely able to speak.

  “Plunge them inside,” he said, and I did.

  Warmth rose from my core up my chest and flushed my face as I pressed two fingers deep inside myself. I cried out into the phone and heard an appreciative grumble from his end and a soft slapping sound in the background. He was stroking himself hard now, his fingers wrapped around his thick, pulsing cock, and I could nearly taste his salty precum on my tongue.

  “Use your thumb,” he continued, “to stroke your clit. I want you to pretend it’s me, swirling my finger over you while I slam my cock into you.”

  I did as he told me to, and the image was driving me close to a climax already. I swirled my thumb with each thrust of my fingers into me, starting a rhythm that quickly increased in speed as I squirmed in the sheets. Not long after I began, I ripped at my panties, pulling them all the way off and tossing them away so they didn’t impede my movement anymore.

  “Oh God,” I whispered, as the sensation and the images mixed to make my skin tingle and hair rise on the back of my neck.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said, his voice labored now as he worked himself. He was clearly jerking himself fast now, and with every yelp or moan, he matched it with one of his own. It wasn’t as satisfying as smelling his skin and licking his body while he thrust his thick staff so deeply in me, but it was somehow nearly as intense, his breath rising and falling in heavy exhalations into the phone.

  “I want you in my mouth,” I responded without thinking. It was true. I wanted to pleasure him, to please him in every manner possible. And in that moment, nothing seemed more intimate than my lips wrapped around his cock. “I want to suck your cock.”

  He groaned loudly, and I smiled. I had him close and knowing that brought me closer to the edge myself. I could feel the tension building in my core, and it was about to burst, rolling through me in a powerful climax.

  “What else,” he said, his voice low and strained.

  “I want you to come with me,” I said. “Please, come with me.”

  Just saying it was enough to feel the dam burst. I was tumbling over the edge and into an orgasm that blinded me to the world around me. In that moment nothing existed other than the sound of his voice, the image of his hand stroking his cock furiously, and the sensation of my fingers deep in my wet pussy. My hips arched up, and I cried out.

  “Come with me, Nick,” I nearly shouted.

  His voice built from a low grumble, almost as if he were in pain, into a wild roar. I could imagine his muscles tense, his veins popping out of his chest as he held himself above me, the powerful stream of his orgasm shooting deep into me. I matched his voice as I pressed my fingertips into my upper wall, pressing hard into my clit. The climax overruled all my other senses, and for a while I could only convulse, moan, and clench my eyes shut as the memory of his body smothering mine in a tight embrace filled me.

  Slowly, my nerves calmed, and I cooed into the phone.

  “Thank you,” he said, the smile on his lips evident even if I couldn’t see it. It was that mischievous grin, and I could sense it in how he formed his words.

  “Thank you,” I said, giggling.

  “I hope you know that this only makes me want you more,” he said, the grin forming the words, and my mind creating the image of his smile for me to grin back at.

  “Me too,” I said, panting and rolling to my side so I could pull the sheet over my shoulders. “Nothing quite like the real thing.”

  I let myself lounge around in bed, reveling in the satisfaction coursing through my body for a little while longer. I drifted in and out of sleep and finally woke up just in time to get ready to go meet up with Trish for lunch. I took a long shower, enjoying the way the hot water felt sliding over my skin.

  I didn’t rush. Usually I wasn’t the type of person to linger over long, lazy showers. If I was particularly tired or stressed or had done some sort of physical activity that left my muscles sore, I might stand under the water for a bit longer. But for the most part, I was the type to get in and out.

  But that morning, I took the time to really enjoy being in there. It was like my body was coming alive. I could feel it in a different way. I was looking at it from a new perspective. The water slipped over my curves and brushed along sensitive skin, waking me up.

  When I finally got out, I
got dressed, put on makeup, and styled my hair. Looking in the mirror, I wondered if I looked different to anybody else. It wasn’t far enough along in my pregnancy to show at all. In a few more weeks, I might have a softer belly that would make me look like I’d gained weight. But it would be a while before there was anything that could be readily recognized as a baby bump.

  Yet when I looked in the mirror, I felt different. I felt more feminine and beautiful. This was something I could definitely get used to.

  I had been scheduling my work to start later in the day recently since it seemed I had more energy in the evenings now. That meant I had plenty of time to relax and enjoy my lunch with Trish. Considering the news I was bringing her, I had a feeling it wasn’t going to be a quick one.

  The restaurant I chose was an old tearoom that had been in the same place for almost a hundred years. My mother used to bring me there when I was a little girl. It was our special place, somewhere we shared that was for just the two of us. We would get dressed up and go shopping, then finish up our afternoon with the leisurely, elegant tradition of afternoon tea.

  Trish was already sitting at a table when I walked in. She smiled at me as I walked toward her, and I noticed her eyes sliding over me like she was trying to figure something out.

  “You look pretty today,” she said. “I mean, you always look pretty. But today you really look fantastic.”

  “Thank you,” I said.

  “Did you do something different?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  I could barely contain myself, but it was amusing watching Trish try to figure it out. The waitress came up and told us what was being offered on the menu that day. She asked for our tea selection, and I saw an opportunity.

  “Are any of your teas decaffeinated?” I asked.

  “Yes. Our peppermint tea has no caffeine,” the waitress said.

  “Then I’ll have that,” I said.

  The waitress walked away, and I looked across the table at Trish. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth open slightly.