Delivering Her Secret: A Secret Baby Romance

by Kira Blakely

  My heart sank at the thought.

  I witnessed Chet drag Andrew out of the truck by his shirt, swiftly elbow him in the face two times, and then slam him down on the hood of his truck, clapping handcuffs over him with sadistic relish. The entire time, Andrew seemed nothing more than perplexed and aggravated, the way absolutely anyone would be. He didn’t fight back at any point, though he had a few opportunities and Chet was significantly smaller than he was.

  My mouth hung open, and I felt cold all over after watching that tape.

  I’d made a huge mistake. What had I done?

  Chapter Five

  Andrew

  I tried to stay away from her. I wanted to hate her guts. I wanted to shove that invoice for the damn steering belt in her face and collect her cold, hard cash like there had never been anything between us. I wanted to hurt her the way she’d hurt me. I was about to drive so deep into her, to take us both to the edge, and then she ruined it. With my dick wedged between her pussy lips and the crotch of her panties, she’d all but called me a thief.

  I couldn’t get her off my mind, though. That quickie with Michelle six months ago had far and away been the most gratifying sex I’d ever had. She fit my cock perfectly, as if by design, and she came so hard around me. All I had to do was thrust, and I could see her eyeballs roll, feel her pussy quiver and clutch. Maybe this seemed like I wasn’t a proud man, but here was the thing: I was. Did I want to forgive her? Yes, eventually, but first I’d like to see some squirming.

  At the same time, you have no idea what it’s like to have your dick inside a girl’s soaking wet panties, rubbing her up and down, ready to slide inside, and then your ego is bruised and you leave. Why had I left? Why hadn’t I fucked her and then left? Now the scent of her pussy was going to haunt me forever.

  My hard-on wouldn’t go away no matter how many times I stroked it down. It sprang up again. It couldn’t be quenched. I needed Michelle. I needed her thick, creamy thighs wrapped around my hips. I needed her to melt all over my sheets like vanilla ice cream.

  But I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.

  I stared at the invoice on my computer screen. Even though she’d asked to be billed regularly, I was only charging her twenty-five dollars for the part, not the labor. It was only an hour of my life. She could keep it.

  My cell phone rang, and I saw that it was her. I let it go to voicemail and then immediately listened to the message.

  “Hey, um, Andrew. I’m really sorry about the other night, again. In—in regards to your case—” She sounded like she was struggling to be professional and not cry. “The sheriff’s department sent me Chet’s dash-cam and I heard and saw everything. And you were right. And I’m really... really sorry that I didn’t trust you. Please come by my office any time—so we can discuss this development to your case.”

  A grin tickled at one corner of my mouth. I could hear how badly she wanted me in the rawness of her voice. And I wanted her, too. I didn’t want to fight. I wanted to be deep inside her.

  Planning to do exactly that, I took a long, thorough hot shower and put on my best jeans—no holes, no stains, nothing—and a gray button-down. I wanted to look good for her. I didn’t even consider touching my hair. I slid on my boots and went to her office as twilight fell. We were supposed to get rain to break this heat spell soon.

  When I entered the austere little Victorian home, I heard her voice floating down to me from upstairs, just like it had the first day we’d really met. “I’ll be right down,” she called. “Do we have an appointment?” I heard her heels clicking on the stairs and then her body, draped in a sunny yellow dress, came flouncing down the stairs, hips swaying heavily from side to side. “Normally, the courthouse will—”

  She froze on the stairwell when she saw that it was me. “Andrew,” she breathed. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  I closed the door behind me and locked it.

  Michelle swallowed.

  “I came to see you,” I told her. “We have to talk.”

  “Okay.” Michelle sounded uncertain as she traveled to the foot of the stairs and peered up at me. Her dark hair was loose on her shoulders. The last time I’d seen it like that, it was because I’d pulled her ponytail out myself. A muscle in my jaw ticked and I clenched my teeth. She made me feel like an animal. It wasn’t just the tits and the ass, which were arguably peaches. It was her soft, pink mouth, her doe eyes behind those glasses, and the way she held herself so tight, so rigid, just silently begging for someone to unlace her invisible corset. She needed to be able to dissolve shivering into a puddle of cum at the end of the day. I could see it in her tight shoulders, in the way she chopped her words just so. She needed to come hard, let the steam stream off of her, and reset all those pressure gauges.

  And that kind of thing was my job.

  It was my job to twist and pinch and squeeze with my bare hands. It was my job to fix her overworked system.

  “Are you mad at me?” she wondered, peering up at me.

  A slow grin spread over my lips. “No,” I told her, and I meant it. “I want to give you the chance to show me how you feel.”

  Her big eyes shimmered up at me and a thrum of blood traveled down to my cock.

  “What can I do?” she whispered.

  “Whatever you want to do. If you could do anything to show me how you felt, what would you do?”

  Her eyes flicked down to my thickening manhood, and then back up to me, meticulously unbuttoning each of my buttons as we maintained eye contact. She descended to her knees as my fingers found the button and the zipper, peeling it down for her. The engorged cock trapped inside sprang out at her, and I shivered at the cool kiss of her fingertips on the shaft.

  “This is how I feel about you,” she told me, her soft lips enveloping my head. She worked me over slowly, tickling me with her tongue, testing the depth of her throat inch by inch. I breathed in and out and let her go at her own pace. She randomly skated my full length and my abdomen jolted with surprise. It had been so long since a woman truly treasured my staff. In fact, I’m loathe to recall a prior incident off the top of my head.

  My eyes closed and my head rolled back on my neck. I forgot myself, the room, the situation. She may as well have enveloped my whole consciousness in her mouth. All I felt were her lips all over my body. One hand came up to cup my balls, rolling them high in her hand, and I swallowed thickly. My member tingled on the edge of orgasm and her lips popped over the ridge of my head, then descended again, becoming hungry for more. I could tell. She flashed me a look—a wild look—and I knew she wanted to make me come. She wanted redemption, and she wanted me, and she wanted my cock.

  “Michelle,” I called down to her.

  She came off of my slick rod and peered up at me with lust-fogged eyes and swollen pink lips. Her hair was crazy. She looked like a succubus.

  “Yeah?” Her voice was hoarse.

  “I want you to trust me. That’s all I really want from you.”

  She nodded up at me, still so pouty, still holding my pulsing cock in her hands.

  “Can you do that?”

  She bit her lower lip and nodded. “Yes.”

  My fingers tangled in her hair and drove her gently downward, penetrating her lips again, and she devoured me. I was going to explode and I wanted to touch her all over. I wanted to come in her mouth and in her pussy and in her ass all at once.

  With my hand still deep in her hair, I pulled Michelle up from her knees and split her lips apart with my tongue. I explored her mouth with relish and gratitude, and my hands went from her hair and shoulder to her hip and the split of her thighs. I groped her through her dress and I couldn’t feel any panties on the other side. I only felt smooth bare skin between her legs, and I rubbed at her slit with the bright yellow cotton of her dress as a barrier between our skin, rubbed at it until her skirt was soaked and my dick painfully throbbed for her. I’d never seen a woman so wet.

  Yanking her skirt up, I shoved my fingers against he
r gash and slathered it up and down, sliding over every nook in her rosy folds. Michelle’s eyes pinched shut and she whimpered and I kept pumping my hand, dizzy with the release that touching her slick, bare pussy brought. I couldn’t believe that the dream woman from six months ago was back in my life, at my fingertips yet again.

  “I want you to trust me,” I whispered into her hair, “because I need to be inside you again. I need to make this right. Feel safe with me.” I sank two fingers into her pussy and flicked hard. Michelle’s eyes were glassy, and I knew she was as close as I was. Pre-cum dripped off of me, and she wasn’t even touching me right now. I rolled my tongue over her neck and collected the salty sheen there.

  Her body trembled and she shakily swore it to me. “I trust you.” Her hands moved to unfasten the buttons down the front of her dress. I didn’t want to rip her clothes again—like every time we were going to have sex, I would just destroy something, anything—but I couldn’t wait any longer. I was about to split apart, I was so hard.

  I toyed my iron length over her hole, my lips on hers in fleeting passes as she begged for it.

  “Please,” she whimpered into my mouth. “I need it, too. I need you inside me.”

  That was all I needed to hear.

  I plunged into her and it felt like stepping out into very bright sunlight from a darkened hallway. I came to life inside her. I lost myself in her hair, thumbs grinding down on her fleshy hips, leaving the mark of my teeth on her neck. I couldn’t stand it. She barely had a chance to move because she was so overwhelmed by the way I rained down on her. I couldn’t help it. I had barely been mad anymore by the time she apologized. All I wanted was her. I fingered her clitoris with an archer’s concentration and her entire body went into hard spasms.

  “Oh, god, how—oh—” She lost her words in the tsunami of orgasm and shuddered uncontrollably, covering me in a sheer, delicious syrup.

  We slammed against a bookshelf somewhere in the room, raining pretentious copies of boring books all over the floor. Only now did I finally shirk off my sweaty, stretched shirt to the floor. Michelle’s thighs locked around me and I uttered vague words that might have been “yes” or “oh, god” but were too muddled with ecstasy to really tell. Her eyes rolled around in her head like she hadn’t really recovered from that last orgasm, and her thighs were rubber.

  I twisted her sideways and ground her face into The Fundamentals of Law while she moaned my name. It felt like it was one hundred degrees in this office. Her breath made fog on the glossy cover of that stupid book, and I bit the back of her neck and thrust deep inside her perfect pussy. Her knees quivered and we sank together to the floor.

  My hands roved her ass and gave one cheek a hard, appreciative smack, relishing the way it rolled back and forth for me. Now that was a woman. I sank into her hips from behind and roared and lost my mind all over again, charging into her until she squirted on me. Her dress, which was soaked in sweat and cum in the skirt and stripped away on top, had been ruined. I raked my nails over her bare back and drove in and out of her, in and out of her, trying to pace my breathing. I could feel the cum pounding at the tip of my dick, ready to spray into her, but I had to hold on. Just a few more minutes.

  Michelle’s trembling legs folded out from under her and we spilled down into our own puddle of juices. I rolled her slack, trembling body onto her back and gazed down at her. Sweat puddled in the hollow of her throat and glued strands of her hair to her face. “Oh, Michelle,” I breathed into her mouth. “Oh, Michelle, yes...” Her thighs came up around my hips, and I drove into her as deeply as I could. I buried myself against her sweaty neck.

  Michelle called out in high-pitched nonsense to me, and her pussy clamped around me and spasmed, pumping my prick as it covered me in her sauce. I lost my mind bucking into her, and the attempt to hold orgasm at bay crashed around my ears. I came so hard, it seemed like each thrust of my cock was destroying this room, but I couldn’t stop.

  When it was all over, and we were a panting tangle of limbs and ruined hair and half-on clothes, this office seemed otherworldly in its stillness. The symphony of our sex had probably been heard down the whole block.

  “Damn,” I summarized. I felt like that was sufficient.

  “Yeah,” Michelle agreed breathlessly. “Very good.”

  We laid like a pile of hot noodles for several minutes.

  “My fingers are numb,” she volunteered.

  “I can’t stand up,” I said. “Hey, would you like to come to a friend’s wedding with me? His name is Grant. Her name is Lisa. They’re good people. We all went to high school together.”

  “Like a date?” Michelle squeaked.

  I raised my eyebrows and my gaze meandered over to Michelle, now cuddled up against my side, still looking like the victim of a catastrophe. Why did she have to sound so alarmed at that prospect?

  “Exactly like a date,” I answered. “Is that moving too fast for you?”

  “Uh, I don’t know.” Michelle’s teeth nipped at her lower lip, but this time, the gesture wasn’t sexy. She looked nervous. “You’re my client, Andrew.”

  “I know that,” I scoffed. “We’re in your office right now.”

  “What if someone saw us?”

  “I’m hoping that dozens of people will see us,” I replied. “I wouldn’t have spent a few hundred dollars on the suit if that wasn’t the case. Are you about to say no?” I was half-kidding, because my softened member was only now just sliding out of her. I didn’t understand how she could let me inside her but not be willing to date me.

  “I probably won’t fit in,” she worried. “I don’t do well with other people. I’m quiet. I come from a totally different lifestyle.”

  “What?” I hissed. A totally different lifestyle?

  “I’m sure they’re very fun people, but—I thought we were supposed to be pretending like we’d never slept together,” she blurted. “How are we supposed to be pretending like we never slept together and simultaneously taking each other on dates to weddings?”

  I forced my wobbling legs to a stand and put my rumpled clothes back together. I tucked my seemingly lifeless dick back into my pants and zipped and buttoned.

  Michelle sat up and covered her breasts, like she was surprised that I was leaving. “Wh-where are you going?”

  “If we never slept together, I definitely wouldn’t be here having this conversation with you,” I explained tightly as I quickly and poorly buttoned the bottom half of my shirt. “Goddamnit!” I aborted the mission and grabbed my keys and my phone. “If you’re that goddamn different than me, then stop fucking with me,” I snarled, marching for the door.

  “Wait, Andrew,” Michelle called after me. “It’s not about that!”

  I wrenched the door open and glared out at the narrow street of downtown Pelham, dotted with lamps. I didn’t glance back at Michelle. I knew what I’d find: that distraught, beautiful face, the dress clutched around her like rags. I remembered this situation from every relationship I’d ever been in. This was the end of the movie.

  But I wasn’t going to do this both ways. She couldn’t pretend that I was just her client when we were in public, and fuck my brains out behind closed doors.

  If she wanted to take it back, then fine. I had never been inside her before. I’d never be inside her again.

  Chapter Six

  Michelle

  I stared into the dregs of my coffee cup for several minutes before I fully registered the sound of a male voice calling to me, muffled by my kitchen windows.

  “Michelle! Good morning!”

  I furrowed my brow at the shadow on the other side of my curtains, yanking them to one side. Chet Browntooth stood in a stream of hot Texas sunshine, shading his eyes and knocking incessantly on the glass.

  I almost rolled my eyes right in front of him. It was 8:30 in the morning on a goddamn Sunday. I wasn’t even wearing a bra yet. What was he doing here?

  “Um, one second,” I called, striding back to my bedr
oom and hunting through the half-organized closet for a real shirt. I selected a cinnamon-colored cardigan and threw it over my shoulders. That would make me look frumpy and average, and it would hide my nipples from view: two birds with one stone.

  I left my hair in its snarled half-ponytail monstrosity, left my face pale and tired, and went to answer the door. There was just something deep down inside me that wanted Chet Browntooth to believe in my ugliness.

  “Morning, Chet,” I greeted, opening the front door for him.

  Chet stood eagerly on the porch, cradling a glass dish covered in tin foil. “Morning. How is it possible that you look so beautiful right now?”

  “Who knows?” I brushed off the compliment. “What’s going on?”

  “Well, I made some monkey bread for breakfast, but it was way too much.”

  “Ooh, monkey bread,” I echoed, even though I wasn’t really hungry. “That was one of my favorites when I was a kid.”

  Chet brightened. “Really? Then I’m glad I brought it by.” He extended the dish. “Consider it my housewarming gift to you.”

  “Thank you, Chet.” Cradling the warm glass against my stomach, the cardigan gapped open and exposed the shape of my nipples beneath the thin nightshirt I’d worn to bed. Damn it. I took a step back and made a hurried motion to close the door. Chet was being perfectly nice, but after watching that tape of how he treated Andrew, I couldn’t look at him as if he was a regular good person. The only reason I was being polite to him was my mother’s drill sergeant training that her daughters be polite to all guests. “Well, have a good morning. I’ll see you later.”