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Savage Devil: A Secret Baby, High School Bully Romance (Devils of Sun Valley High Book 2)

Page 11

by Daniela Romero


  We watch him play for half an hour when all of a sudden he gets angry with one of his cars, yelling at the thing like it somehow offended him before crawling to Bibiana and shoving his little hand down the front of her shirt.

  “Sorry.” Her cheeks turn pink. “I think he’s hungry.” She gets up from the floor, about to leave the room and I realize I don’t want her to. It would be one more thing I don’t get to be involved in.

  “Feed him here.” It comes out like an order. She scowls and is about to argue when I add, “Please.”

  She nods once, and her cheeks turn an even brighter shade of pink.

  I try not to stare as she lifts him up and positions herself on the sofa, my boy in her arms. She grabs a blanket from the back of the sofa and attempts to cover herself up as she pulls her shirt up just enough for Luis to reach her breast, but he isn’t having it. If anything, her attempts at modesty make it worse because instead of burying his face in her boobs—something that, I won’t lie, sounds appealing because she’s got great tits—he’s fighting with her, yelling and flailing his tiny hands in the air to get the covering off.

  I’m sure she’d like a few minutes of privacy, but I can’t bring myself to give them to her.

  Bibiana huffs, finally giving up, and lets the blanket drop to the side, her full breast exposed save for the back of Luis’s head blocking my view of her nipple.

  She visibly swallows and won’t meet my gaze. It’s fucking adorable. Not that the thought should be running through my head. I’ve cooled off some since last night but I still can’t shake the feeling that she did this on purpose. That she didn’t think I was good enough for our son. I hate that.

  “You good?” I ask. Not that I should care, but seeing her feed our son, take care of him, it awakens something primal inside of me. Fire burns in my throat as she turns her head and meets my stare head on, and want flickers in the recesses of my mind. What the hell is wrong with me?

  “Yeah. Just … didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” She shrugs.

  A smile curls my lips. “You can pop those out anytime you’d like. Trust me, I’m far from uncomfortable.”

  Her cheeks go from pink to scarlet. I like it. Like making her uncomfortable. Uncertain.

  What she’s doing isn’t sexual. Far from it, in fact. But … I exhale a harsh breath. Without letting myself think about what I’m doing, I get up from the floor and move to sit beside her. She gazes up at me, a furrow between her brows, but I’ve already turned my attention to Luis. His little fists are balled up against her breast, his eyes closed and a relaxed expression on his face.

  Emotion threatens to overwhelm me and I almost don’t recognize the sound of my voice as I utter my next words. “Marry me,” I say, surprising myself, but I don’t try and take back the words. Actually, now that they’re out in the open, it makes sense. Getting married, I mean. It would resolve all our problems. We wouldn’t need to work out custody or visitation. There wouldn’t be any worries or unknowns. We’d be a family, for Luis.

  Her head snaps up. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Deadly.”

  “No.”

  I grit my teeth and try not to be offended by her response, even as my chest squeezes all the air from my lungs. “Why not?” It comes out angrier than I intended and her eyes narrow. I was right, a voice in the back of my mind tells me. I’m not good enough.

  “Because I don’t know you. And you don’t know me. We can’t go off and get married just because we have a child together.”

  “Yes, we can,” I bite out. It would make things easier, too. We’d be a family. That’s what Luis deserves. Why wouldn’t she want that? “Luis deserves both parents—”

  “And he’ll have them. But I’m not going to marry someone I don’t even know—who doesn’t even like me—just because we have a child together.”

  My jaw tightens. I like parts of her just fine. Her ass. Her tits. Her tight pussy. There are plenty of things I like about Bibiana, but I don’t bother voicing them aloud, already aware that isn’t what she means.

  I glower at her as though my stare alone can change her mind, but she doesn’t cower. If anything, her chin lifts higher in the air.

  Okay, so no marriage. For now. We’ll shelf that conversation for another day because I sure as shit am not giving up on it. My son deserves everything I never had and more. “Fine.”

  She releases a breath.

  “We’ll date first.” I can be reasonable. Compromising is important in a relationship. See, very reasonable.

  Her blue eyes widen and she shakes her head in a definitive no.

  I try not to let my annoyance show. But, why is she being so difficult? I know she’s attracted to me. We have chemistry off the charts. This is a win-win situation.

  “Let me guess, you have reasons for not wanting to date me too? We’ve already fucked. Is dating really such a big leap here?”

  Her lips press together and she turns her attention back to Luis who’s fallen asleep in her arms, his mouth open and her glistening nipple on full display. She covers herself up, careful not to disturb Luis before she rises to her feet. My dick twitches in my jeans and I glower down at my crotch. Now is not the fucking time.

  “I’m going to lay him down in his crib. I’ll be right back.”

  I suck on my teeth as I watch her all but run from the room without answering my questions.

  She returns a few minutes later and I decide I’m not going to give her the easy out she clearly wants. “Date me,” I say again, ignoring my semi. I swear my dick gets excited just by her walking into a room.

  She claims a seat on the sofa across from me instead of sitting beside me like before. “No.”

  A muscle ticks in my jaw.

  “Emilio—“ Her voice is soft and I can feel the careful let down she’s about to deliver and I don’t fucking want it. “I don’t know you.”

  “Then get to know me.” That’s what dating is for, right? I’ve never done the whole exclusive thing before but I know how it works. You date before you decide to marry. I’m not missing a step here. At least I don’t think I am.

  “Aren’t you seeing someone? Sarah or Kaitlyn or,” she rolls her eyes on a forced laugh, “I don’t know, half the senior class? All the girls at least.”

  Is that what this is about? My reputation? I sleep around, sure. But that doesn’t mean I have to. I haven’t been with anyone since she came back. I sure as shit don’t belong to anyone else. I’ve never been exclusive with a girl. Bibiana would be the first. The only.

  “No,” I deadpan. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’d like to see you. The mother of my goddamn child.” Why is this such a difficult concept for her to wrap her mind around? I know our cultures are different but we’re both Hispanic or Latino or whatever the fuck you want to call it. I’m Honduran. She’s Brazilian. Our upbringings couldn’t have been so different that she wouldn’t at least see the appeal in raising our son together. I’m trying to do the right thing here. Why is she making that so difficult?

  “I don’t know you,” she repeats. Again.

  “You know me well enough to let me finger-fuck you in a classroom.”

  Her eyes narrow to slits.

  I run my hands through my hair and try to tamp down my frustration. “Will you get to know me, then? I think our son deserves at least that much from us.”

  “For Luis?”

  Fuck, yes. Fine. “For Luis,” I agree.

  She nods. “Okay. I’ll get to know you.”

  That’s still not an agreement to date.

  God dammit.

  We spend the next three days getting to know one another. All day Saturday and Sunday, and then I show up right after football practice Monday evening. We agreed my next visit would be on Wednesday but Bibiana wasn’t at school today and she didn’t answer any of my texts. There’s an irrational fear inside me that says she’s bolted with my boy, but when I show up unannounced on her front porch, she lets me in without questi
on and for the first time, Luis reaches for me.

  There are dark circles under her eyes and her hair is haphazardly thrown up into a bun thing on top of her head. “You look,” I pause choosing my words carefully, “tired. Everything alright?”

  She sighs. “Yeah. Luis is teething so we didn’t get much sleep last night.”

  Oh. “Is that why you weren’t at school today?” It makes sense. I pluck Luis from her arms and follow her inside.

  Despite her oversized shirt, I can tell her spine is stiff as she hastily picks up Luis’s toys from the ground. “Umm… no. My mom usually watches Luis while I’m in school but she’s dealing with Miguel stuff today so…” she trails off and then hastily adds, “I have it sorted with my teachers. It’s not a big deal.”

  My brows furrow. Something in her voice contradicts her words, but I decide to leave it alone, knowing it isn’t my place. “Cool. Is it alright if I hang for a bit with Luis?”

  She nods. “Yeah that would be great actually. Do you care if I take a shower and catch up on some homework? You can have some one-on-one time with him?”

  My smile widens and I turn to Luis. “What do you think, little man. Wanna kick it with Dad?”

  He gurgles and waves a fist in the air which I take to mean hell yeah, so I turn back to Bibiana with a grin. “Sounds good. Shower away.” I try not to think about her naked and wet in said shower but my mind wants to go places it shouldn’t. It’s been nice these past few days, which is better than I could have expected.

  At first it was terrifying. There is so much I don’t know and when Luis is tired or hungry, it’s not like he can tell me. I don’t know his cues, but I learned real fast that my boy has a temper. If I take too long trying to figure out what he wants, my man loses it. Who knew something so tiny could be so explosive? And the diaper changes, my god. Nothing this cute should smell that bad.

  The uncertainty has mostly faded now. I still don’t know everything there is to know, but I’m learning, and Bibiana’s been good about filling me in if she thinks he’s trying to tell me something. She doesn’t have to make this easy on me. She isn’t required to help me figure out how to be a dad. But she has been. Helpful, I mean. And while it’s the least she can do after keeping him from me, I guess, I don’t know, I appreciate it. Hell, I’m grateful, really. Not that I’ll tell her that.

  We haven’t talked about the whole dating thing again but I think I’m winning her over. It’s slow moving, but I can be patient.

  She heads upstairs and I move with Luis to the living room, finding the basket of blocks and cars she keeps close by for him. We play on the floor for a bit before grabbing a snack from the kitchen, one of those food pouch things he seems to like.

  When he finishes with that he yawns and I know he’s ready for a nap, but I haven’t quite figured out his routine for that yet. From what I’ve seen so far, he usually just falls asleep after nursing and well, I don’t have tits for my little man to get what he needs. But, I don’t want to call Bibiana for that either.

  “How’s everything going?” she asks, poking her head into the room, as if me thinking of her somehow conjured her here. Her wet hair hangs in loose curls around her make-up-less face. I’m stunned for a moment at the sight of her. She’s fucking beautiful.

  Wearing an army green tank top that hugs her chest and waist like a second skin, she shows off every inch of her delectable curves. Fuck me. I haven’t seen her in anything form fitting since the night we met. She looks good enough to eat. My mouth waters and I wonder what she tastes like.

  “We’re good,” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t betray me.

  “Do you need me to—”

  I shake my head. “Nah. I got it.” I give her a wink. “Go. You have homework, right?”

  Her eyes are conflicted but she nods and leaves the room with a muttered, “Call me if you need me.” But, I’ll figure it out. He ate. He played. I check his diaper and we’re good on that front too.

  I rock Luis in my arms, adjusting his position a few times until we find one that’s comfortable for him. He fusses a little but I manage to keep him quiet for the most part. I don’t want Bibiana thinking I can’t handle this. I want to take him to meet my sister which means she needs to trust me enough to let me take Luis on my own. We agreed we’d do this her way, and I don’t want to push, but my baby sister was bouncing off the walls as soon as I told her she’s an aunt. I know Antonio wants to meet him too. Hell, Allie was even me asking today at school when I’d be bringing him over despite all the shit she’s dealing with right now.

  And none of that can happen if the mother of my child barely trusts me alone with him when she’s right there in the next room.

  “We’ve got this, don’t we, little man?” I whisper and rub circles on his back until his head rests against my shoulder. Holding him in my arms reminds me of how fragile he is. How easy it would be for him to get hurt, and I have to fight back the urge to squeeze him tighter to me. Miguel is Bibiana’s mom’s boyfriend and he hurt Allie. He beat her and then the fucker raped her. I haven’t brought it up with her yet because I don’t want to start an argument but I’m nervous about what will happen if the bastard is released. I don’t want him anywhere near my kid.

  Roman’s dad can’t make a case for the rape. There isn’t sufficient evidence and Allie didn’t report it when it happened, but he’s doing his damnedest to keep the asshole locked up for something else. They’re digging into all of his financials and looking for any skeletons he might be hiding in his closet. Allie was attacked because of something her father did. Some business deal gone wrong that Miguel was involved in.

  If the people you work with are shady enough to rape your daughter because you pissed them off, chances are that shit isn’t above board, and with any luck, Chief Valdez will find something to pin the fucker with. Then I won’t have to bring the subject up with Bibiana at all.

  Luis falls asleep and I take a chance, slowly dropping onto the sofa and centering him on my chest. When he doesn’t stir, I sigh in relief and look down at the mop of dark brown hair on his head, pressing my lips to his temple.

  I prop my feet on the coffee table and settle back in my seat, letting my eyes close as I listen to the steady inhale and exhale of his breaths.

  I’m completely content to sit here until he wakes up. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be.

  Fourteen

  The shower is heaven. I haven’t been able to take one that wasn’t rushed in longer than I can remember. I almost feel guilty for taking my time and going through the motions of shaving my legs and deep conditioning my hair, something it desperately needed.

  When Emilio showed up on my porch, I realized I like having him here. In a way, it helps. Sure, I’ve always had my mom but she never really stepped in for the parenting parts. If Luis was hungry, I fed him. If he needed a nap, I was the one to put him down. If he was having a rough day and insisted he be held twenty-four-seven, I was the one who held him. Mom helps me out if I can’t be there because of school, but if I’m home, the responsibility of caring for Luis falls directly on my shoulders. As it should. I’m not complaining.

  But with Emilio around, there’s someone to help carry that load, even if all he does is play with him on the floor while I shower or make a something to eat. I never noticed how much easier it is to accomplish simple tasks without carrying a baby around with me while I did them.

  I towel my hair dry and after checking in to make sure Emilio is doing okay with Luis, I turn on my laptop and check to see if any of my teachers emailed me back. I let them all know last night after I got off the phone with Mom that I wouldn’t be there. I came up with an excuse that Luis was sick and thankfully it doesn’t seem like any of them are disgruntled about it. They’re probably all married with kids of their own and while Luis isn’t actually sick, I couldn’t very well say, “My mom’s boyfriend is in custody and she’s refusing to leave his side so I don’t have childcare.” Well, I guess I could. B
ut I don’t really want to air out all of our dirty laundry if I don’t have to.

  Miguel’s in the hospital after the beating he took. He’s still under arrest. Handcuffed to his hospital bed according to Mom. But since he’s not actually in prison where she can’t see him, she’s adamant that he needs her and that she has to stay with him while he recovers. I’m not sure what she’s hoping for. He raped a teenage girl. Someone who happens to be the same age as her daughter. That she’s even speaking to the man is beyond me, but I can’t very well tell her all that over the phone.

  This might be one of those things she needs to work out for herself, and with any luck, once Miguel is carted off to jail, she will. I don’t think the reality of the situation has hit her yet. She’s still trying to process everything and still clinging to the hope that this is all some horrible misunderstanding.

  It isn’t. I’ve spoken to Allie on the phone a few times since Friday night and she’s confident he’s the one who attacked her. And after seeing his reaction to her with my own eyes, I believe her.

  I download the assignments my teachers sent and get to work on playing catch up. Mom said she’d come home at least long enough for me to go to school tomorrow so with any luck I won’t fall too far behind only, I don’t know what will come next and I hate being unable to plan.

  I spend the next hour catching up on my reading and assignments. There’s an exam in my economics class on Friday and I want to make sure I do well. With that finished, I head back downstairs and freeze at the sight of Luis fast asleep on Emilio’s chest.

  Wow. I’d like to blame what I’m feeling right now on my hormones, but I have a feeling the sight of this arrogant playboy asleep with our son in his arms is something I’ll never get used to.

  He must not have been too deeply asleep because the next second Emilio is cracking one eyelid open and smiling my way.

  “Hey, momma.” His voice is rough with sleep. Why do those words make my toes curl? Visions of Rio from Good Girls comes to mind and I have to force myself to walk further into the room instead of standing there dumbstruck. Does Emilio have to be so hot? This would be so much easier if, I don’t know, he was average and said all the wrong things instead of unraveling me with his words and voice alone.

 

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