The Beast's Baby

by N. Alleman

She moves close to me and wraps her arms around my neck. Tucking her head just beneath my chin, she whispers, “Thank you.”

  I nod, my voice caught in my throat.

  I love her …

  There is no way for me to admit this.

  “What do you say we get outta here?” Her voice is different, like she’s trying to be me. I catch her chin in my hand and stare at her. I can’t believe her, and I smile to myself. She will never be like me, which is precisely what I love about her.

  Lifting her up I twirl her around before setting her back on her feet. Then I start walking, calling back to her, “That sounds like an excellent idea.”

  She’ll follow me. She always has. Always will, I hope.

  Then an even better idea comes to mind, and I think back to pre-K when we’d get in trouble chasing after kids from other classes together, when we were supposed to be napping. “Race you.”

  And we do.

  I outpace her easily, but I slow down so she can keep up with me. This may be the only time I slow my pace for her.

  I remember how beautiful she looked earlier, legs apart—pussy wet, and my cock twitches in my jeans.

  But I ignore it as best I can. Olive can’t be a one-night stand.

  She’s a virgin. It has to be special.

  Olive releases a burst of speed, and I let her take advantage of it. I could beat her, but I don’t. She gets to my motorcycle first.

  “I win!” She jumps up and down happily. Like she used to do. I haven’t seen her do that in a while. She attempts to open up the compartment on the back of my bike so she can get our helmets, but she can’t do it so she pouts.

  She’s so frail … We’ll work on that. As hard as she hit in the gym earlier, it’s not like she’s done that before. Carrying all her books must not do a lot of strength building.

  Maybe Jason carried them around for her.

  Fuck Jason.

  Olive belongs to me.

  Opening the compartment, I take out her helmet and toss it to her, resisting the urge to buckle it under her chin. Her hair falls around her face and it takes her longer to get her helmet on.

  Mine is on. Been on for a while now. I have more experience than she does though. More experience with lots of things.

  She grunts, finally getting it on past her mane of hair. She giggles nervously then raises a hand to her mouth in shame like she’s trying to hide the sounds that just came out of her pretty mouth.

  “Let’s go somewhere,” I say, climbing on the bike.

  Her response is to fold her arms around me, which I fucking love.

  I wasn’t sure where to go until I was already half way there.

  When we get there, I hop off the bike and hold my hand out to her. She doesn’t take it, and I can see she’s decided to do it herself.

  Fine. But I’ll help her off with her helmet and put it away.

  Olive looks confused as she takes everything in.

  “Axel.” Her voice is exasperated, which makes her even more adorable. “This is a tattoo parlor.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  She mutters something. Pretty sure I heard a curse in there. “I can’t get a tattoo, Axel.”

  She’s a year too young. Of course. Fuck.

  “Well, yeah.” I wrap an arm around her, getting used to how her body feels against mine. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t.”

  Her forehead crinkles.

  She wants to hold my hand the entire time I get the tat done. But it’s far from my first tattoo, and I want it to be a surprise.

  Her name. Right above my heart.

  It makes sense. Putting her name there permanently shows she’s claimed it.

  And she had, a long time ago.

  I am so fucking screwed.

  But I regret nothing. Never would.

  “Let me see,” Olive begs, her voice laced with concern. I like that she cares so much.

  “Later,” I tell her. It’s early morning now. Around two, if my guess is right. She should be getting home. “It’s time to get you home.”

  “I’m not a child, Axel, I can go to bed when I want.” She practically runs out of the door of the tattoo shop in a huff.

  “Never said you couldn’t,” I say, following her. Maybe she’ll sass back some more. Give me an excuse to spank her. “So are you going to your place or mine?”

  I don’t want to take her home with me. Not because I don’t want her there with me. I do, more than anything. But my family … Fuck. And her father lives right next door.

  For a minute, she’s silent. We walk without speaking a word, and I keep my head down, wondering just how badly I fucked-up. I glance at her from the corner of my eyes.

  Her. Face. Is. So. Goddamn. Red.

  “I don’t know how to respond to that.” She bites her lip.

  Shit.

  “You don’t have to.” I keep myself from reaching out and running a finger down her mouth. Damage control. I can’t think well enough to make her feel better if I’m touching her.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to. And I do. It’s just. I,” she stumbles. Finally, finally, she looks up at me. “I want to.”

  Fuck it. I drag my finger down her mouth as slowly as I dare, feeling goose bumps erupt on my skin as I touch her. I shouldn’t feel this way over a girl. But I do. Maybe it’s not my old man going soft. Maybe … it’s me.

  “I know somewhere,” I say quietly.

  It’s not a beach house or anything special. Just my secret spot.

  Our secret spot, I remind myself. We haven’t been here together in years, not since the summer before we started middle school. Back then I wondered if we wouldn’t be seeing as much of each other much anymore once school started. Sports teams broke off into different genders then, and my father decided I needed to man up and pick one. I picked soccer.

  No surprise I was scrawny until a year ago.

  But soccer was a major time suck for a while, and although I’d tried to spend as much time with Olive as I could, we hadn’t been here in ages.

  I watch her, gauging her reaction.

  This had to be the right choice.

  It just had to be.

  Fuck! I was always confident. Except for with Olive. Especially not with her, and especially when she scales the little ladder outside, and I worry she might fall. I’d have to catch her, and it would drive me crazy having her in my arms.

  We are in my old treehouse; out in the woods you could only reach from a hidden path in my backyard.

  And now we’re silent.

  I could take the beatings in the ring when I first started, tough love from my family, fights with other people. But I can’t take this.

  She stands a foot away from me, but it feels like a mile. Her hair slopes down over her shoulder so beautifully, and she looks nervous.

  I move toward her, wanting to touch her, but she surprises me when her hands touch my shoulders first.

  “I want this.” She kisses my neck.

  I don’t say anything. Instead, my hand buries itself in the thick of her hair, and I hold her so she arches her back, offering herself to me. My lips trail down that inviting neck as my hands work to free her shirt from her skirt.

  I lean back for a second to rip my shirt over my head and reveal my washboard abs, then I pull hers off. Finally, I feel her skin against mine. This was something I’d been dreaming of doing.

  I want to fuck her, like an animal, a beast. The man practicing for the ring going to town with her on a bed, but there was no way she could take that. She’s just had her first kiss.

  Growling in frustration as her hands slid up my sides, I take hold of myself and get my head right. If we are going to do this, I’m going to have to be a gentleman about it.

  We’ve always kept a small mat up here for sleepovers. It had been ages, but as I take it out and lay it on the floor I’m glad we never got rid of the thing.

  Picking her up, I set her down on it. I unfastened her jeans and tug them, needing
to see her naked. My cock throbs, and I want to bury it deep as possible inside her body, then pull it out and shove it back in again as she moans my name.

  She tries to help me take off her pants, but I stop her.

  I will dominate this situation.

  Here, we’re not equals. We both chose this, but she is mine to take.

  I grab her hands and pin them over her head, growling a reminder for her to keep them there. She does, shaking.

  I, too, am shaking with anticipation. I rip her bra from her body and admire her nakedness. Then I shower her beautiful breasts with passionate kisses. Sucking a nipple between my lips, I move from her right breast to her left stopping to marvel at them as the tips harden. For me. All for me.

  When my hand begins to roam down her stomach toward her pussy, she gasps and closes her eyes.

  Her underwear tears as I steal them from her. My hand grips her sex hard. I squeeze her, rubbing my fingers along her slit, listening to her breathing to determine what she likes. I don’t want to hurt her, but I’m eager to dive in …

  “I want you,” I growl, kissing her throat again, exploring her body. I abandon my jeans and boxers, shoving them to the side. I take her small hand and place it on the head of my cock which springs forth furious with need.

  Her eyes flutter open, shocked.

  My beautiful bookish girl has never felt a cock before.

  Knowingly, I place her hand along the shaft, the way I’ve pictured her touching me a million times before.

  “Fuck …” I swore, not expecting her to know how to touch me, but her hand gripped my dick perfectly moving up and down. Hesitantly at first, then with more confidence, but still so gentle. “I have to have you.”

  All I hear is her breathy response, “Then take me.”

  Her words make me lose my mind. I don’t take time to think it over, I tell her to hold still.

  Then I spread open her thighs, revealing her glistening pink pussy. The tip of my cock rubs against her sex. I take it in my hand, guiding it.

  I want to dive right inside her, but I don’t dare without preparing her properly.

  The tip drags over her clit over and over again until she gasps, “Please!”

  Then I do it. I force the head into her.

  She gulps, eyes wide.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  She nods. “All the way,” she says, and I cannot deny her.

  With a deep thrust of my hips, I’m inside her.

  Her body stiffens, then as I rock back and push inside her again she begins to relax. She clasps her arms around me, and I decide to let it slide even though I told her not to move them. Her hips rise to meet mine, and we develop a rhythm.

  I taste her mouth and drink her in as her body welcomes me, gives me her most precious gift.

  She feels better than I ever imagined. Our bodies fit together perfectly, and she takes me to new heights.

  I hope she feels the same way, and I guess by the way her body trembles and she clings to me that she does.

  I’m not able to last as long as I want, but maybe that’s okay for her first time. My hips pump into her one last time and I come hard, deep inside her before collapsing next to her and drawing her into my arms.

  My beautiful Olive. No longer a virgin.

  7

  Olive

  Physically, I don’t feel any different after losing my virginity. Okay, maybe a little sore.

  But after reading all those romances where the hero and heroine wound up together forever after a night of love, I didn’t expect that would happen.

  My night with Axel had been amazing, but I didn’t expect to marry him. Although …

  I sigh, staring at my body in the mirror. Life will go on. But surely it will be better now. Debate club will take place every Friday, and girls will still make fun of me for being nerdy, but now I’ve got Axel.

  My handsome Axel.

  I’m not sure he’s mine, though. Maybe I should ask him to be. My cheeks flush at the thought, and my skin starts to itch. Maybe his hands can scratch that itch.

  Stop it.

  I have to stop it.

  But I don’t want to. Axel lives right next door. He’s an adult now, but barely eighteen. He will still live with his parents for a while, at least until he goes to college in the fall. Maybe he will take me with him.

  Okay, maybe not, since I’m still seventeen. If my dad knew about last night, he might kill Axel as much as he likes him. Plus my father needs me with everything he’s going through.

  Banishing those thoughts from my mind, I focus on Axel and the happy feelings in my chest and in other places that tingled when I thought of him.

  He’s not far away. I could go over there right now, and ask him about us.

  That seems so lame, though.

  “Ugh,” I groan. I shouldn’t be thinking about this. I am so used to being a good girl. But Axel has exposed me to a more dangerous world, and I want to experience more of it with him. He makes me feel safe.

  Last night had been the best night of my life. It had been Axel’s birthday, and I hope he had the best birthday ever. I also hope he really appreciates my present. The one thing I could never give anyone again, since I already gave it to him.

  Exhaling, I adjust my skirt in front of the mirror. I have to go. This skirt is also short, outgrown. With a giggle I think Axel will like this one the way he liked the one I wore last night. It does show off a lot of my legs.

  But it’s not too short. My skin feels clammy, and I need to go to see him before I lose my courage.

  Taking deep breaths to calm my nerves I go next door. My palm is sweaty as I lift the heavy brass knocker and tap it against the door.

  While I wait I glance around and notice a few areas in need of repair, and I wonder if Axel’s family might be having some financial troubles themselves. He always acts like everything is fine, but I wonder if that might be a brave façade. No one is more proud than the Reigns.

  I adjusted and readjusted my skirt while I waited for an answer. After a few minutes, I slammed the knob against the frame again. Proud of my assertiveness.

  Axel likes it when I’m strong.

  Not that I was weak. I could defend myself. Not that the door needed defending against …

  “Someone please answer,” I groaned, throwing the knob against the latch a final time.

  Looking through the window, I see his mother shout for someone to get the door, but no one comes. She sets a baby down on the couch—one of the twins. I can’t tell if it’s Jake or Josh, but I think she’s coming to answer it.

  No, no, no. Axel needs to answer.

  His mother opens the door, her smile grows taut when she realizes it’s me.

  She has never been hostile toward me, but I can tell she still sees me as a kid. Not the right girl to date her son. I believe his father is more of my champion.

  All of a sudden, I’m afraid she’s going to tell me that Axel doesn’t want to see me anymore, that he—

  “Axel isn’t home, sweetheart.” Her smile is more genuine now, but she looks tired as she picks up the toddler crawling toward her. She bounces the boy on her hip.

  God, I feel so awkward. “How are you, Mrs. Reign? Are you okay?” From the way her eyes crinkled like she was ten years older, I could tell she wasn’t doing great.

  “I’m all right,” she says, smiling again. “Just tired. Motherhood does that, you know.” She leaned into me, like she was telling me a secret. “Children aren’t for everyone, Olive.”

  I nodded. I wasn’t thinking of having any for a long time. Definitely not now. But I have to find out more about Axel, and I can’t help but ask. “Oh, okay. Do you know when he’ll be back? Or where he’s gone?”

  Over Mrs. Reign’s shoulder, I see her husband. He waves at me sadly, like he knows something I don’t. Something is wrong.

  “Axel left, sweetheart,” Mrs. Reign says, and right away I know she means for good. Not like he’s gone and he’ll be back in a bit
the way he used to, but that he was gone … forever.

  “Uh huh.” Her husband nods. He’d snuck into the conversation when I wasn’t paying attention. “Signed a contract. We’re real proud of him. Gone on a circuit, fighting.”

  “Oh, I see,” I say, choking back tears. To them, I’m just a childhood friend he’s grown apart from. They can’t know how much this hurts me. I catch my breath before asking. “When will he be back?”

  “I don’t know, sweetie,” Mr. Reign says, ruffling my hair like I’m one of his boys. Not the girl his son loves.

  No one knows if he loves me, or not. I don’t.

  But I thought …

  “Where’d he go?”

  “Missouri, for now,” Mr. Reign’s says with pride. “Knew he could do it. He’ll be traveling all over the states—Axel Reign, professional boxer! One of the youngest, too. Just turned eighteen, you know.”

  I know. I celebrated his birthday with him yesterday, bonding with him more closely than I ever had … And it was probably the last time I’ll ever get to see him.

  I nod a final time. “Well, thank you.” This time I can’t hide that my voice is breaking, and I bolt before they have a chance to respond.

  Sprinting across the Reigns’ perfectly manicured lawn, I don’t hear the door close behind me. Throwing open my front door, I’m grateful my father’s not home, because the hot tears fall down my cheeks before I make it back up to my bedroom.

  I sit on the cold, white subway tile of my bathroom floor.

  When I first felt sick I thought it was from missing Axel.

  He called me. I told him I’d call him back later.

  I said I would. I just needed to feel better.

  But I didn’t.

  He called me a few more times, and I ignored them all.

  Soon the days since we talked turned to weeks. My heart didn’t get better. If anything, it got worse.

  And I felt sicker. One day my dad said he came to our door, but I refused to see him.

  The toilet is cold against my back as I slouch in front of it. I stare down at the test in my hand, and a single tear slips down my cheek onto my nightgown.

  It had only taken one time.