Bad Boy's Bridesmaid

by Sosie Frost

  “Feel good?” I murmured, nipping her neck.

  Mandy nodded. “More.”

  “Always.”

  She hummed as I snaked my touch lower, guiding the warm water to caress an already slickened part of her.

  Her body pulsed hotter than the water. I bit her neck and shuddered with her. Nothing would satisfy me but that heat again.

  And it was mine.

  I had the freedom to touch her. Take her. Love the feel of her.

  We weren’t sneaking around or playing games. I didn’t bathe her to begin some rushed, desperate fuck so we could get off and become almost-strangers again.

  This was real. I could have her and hold her.

  And it was the greatest revelation of my life.

  Mandy giggled as I reached for the shampoo, but her smile faded into a soft moan as I massaged the gel into her hair. She fell against me, using my strength to stay upright.

  Christ, if I knew I could turn her on without even touching her slit…

  That was some dangerous knowledge.

  And I’d planned to exploit it at every opportunity.

  Mandy’s moans became breathy whimpers as the conditioner rinsed away. She grinded against me, and I held her to keep her still as the water teased as much as I did. I never knew a woman could be so desperate and aching for more than my undivided attention.

  Mandy slammed a hand against the shower controls and flipped the water off.

  Fine by me.

  We tumbled from the stall. I didn’t release her from my kiss. A towel waited, bundled on the sink, but I hated the thought of something so rough scouring her skin. Then again…Mandy groaned my name the instant the material stroked her quivering body.

  I should have known. She wasn’t a princess who needed pampering unless that’s what I wanted to give. We had fucked against the poison ivy spanned tree, and I learned she could take a pounding.

  And that she loved it.

  I didn’t bother drying off. The heat surging through me should have turned the droplets to steam. I picked her up, and I tossed her onto the blankets.

  She giggled.

  I didn’t.

  I wasn’t in the mood for fun or flirty or anything that wasn’t taking this woman hard, until she understood how much I needed her.

  And she was ready. She opened her legs for me, holding me as I steadied over her waiting slit.

  I didn’t warn her. She clutched at me and whispered her desire in hushed, desperate whispers.

  I sunk into her—all the way, to the hilt, and I nearly lost it.

  Her softness, that tight and wonderful milking, cascaded pleasure along my spine.

  Mandy cried my name with such a breath of perfection and completeness I vowed I’d never stop fucking her. We’d stay together, locked in place, writhing in the absolute pleasure of the other.

  Except she wanted more.

  And so did I.

  I withdrew to the head, watching as her beautiful expression crumbled in panic and loss. She begged me in unspoken words and choked gasps to stay inside her. I couldn’t leave a lady in misery. I thrust within her, driving into her core. She came, clutching at me and the bed and anything that could keep her hold on the world.

  She could hold onto me from now on.

  I wouldn’t let that ecstasy fade from her.

  I gripped her hips, plunging inside her again and again to feed that clenching, unrelenting tightness from her constant orgasm. Mandy thrashed with a quaking wave of pleasure. She clawed me, her quiet mews transforming into a melody of grateful and beautiful moans. She surrendered, fell limp in my arms, and offered her body for any delight I could incite.

  And I gave her everything.

  Every thrust was meant to slam her breasts between us. Every fierce movement designed to earn her squeal. Every frantic breath I grunted fueled our shared passion. I stretched her. I took her. I fucked her.

  I made love to her.

  And her constant, unrelenting orgasm built my own. Harder. More intense. More meaningful than any other moment with any other woman in my life.

  I gripped her close, fell over her to shield her with my body, and plunged as deeply as I could into that welcoming, sensual heat.

  And I came. Again and again. I jetted inside her, filled her, and gave her everything that was me.

  My whisper rasped, too harsh and desperate for how peacefully she rested in my arms. I didn’t know what to say. Hadn’t I proved everything I felt? “Christ…I love—”

  “Wait.” Mandy’s fingers pressed against my lips. “Just…wait. Before you say it again. Before you even think it. I have to tell you something.”

  She could silence me all she wanted, but nothing changed how my heart beat for her. I gave her a smile, pressing deeper inside of her. She shuddered, but her eyes welled with tears.

  “Nate…I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted to tell you, but the timing…I couldn’t.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Mandy pushed against my chest. I hated leaving her, but she shifted away, curling her legs under her and avoiding my touch.

  “I have to tell you the truth.”

  That didn’t sound good. “The truth?”

  “I wished I hadn’t kept it from you.”

  I tensed. Mandy brushed tears away neither of us wanted her to shed. She couldn’t look at me.

  It didn’t matter. No matter what she said, what she thought, or what she feared, this woman was too good and innocent for secrets. Whatever it was, I could handle it.

  I braced for anything.

  “Nate, I’m pregnant.”

  But I wasn’t ready for that.

  Chapter Nineteen – Nate

  Why was I still sitting in silence?

  I should have said something.

  Anything.

  Mandy dressed in the quiet. I didn’t remember putting my jeans on. I hadn’t zipped them. I just sat on her couch.

  I could have talked, but I didn’t know what I’d hear over my pounding heart.

  Pregnant.

  I didn’t expect it. I never thought of myself as a father. The possibility never crossed my mind.

  I swallowed.

  Pregnant.

  A baby.

  My baby.

  With Mandy.

  I rubbed my chin. “…How long?”

  The question sounded too harsh. I probably should have asked it while holding her. These were the moments men held their women. When we kissed them. When we got excited and celebrated.

  When we planned for something like this.

  The shock numbed everything. Facts helped. Piecing together the puzzle calmed me down. I had to think as rationally as I could. No matter what, I had to make this right.

  Mandy looked down. “I’ve known for a while.”

  Okay. That wasn’t the question, but it explained a lot.

  I nodded. “So, when did I…?”

  Knock you up.

  Wow, was I glad I didn’t say it out loud. What was a man supposed to ask? When did I impregnate you? That was too formal, too clinical. When did I put a baby in you?

  Christ, it wasn’t like I hijacked a stork and stole the bundle to stuff clandestinely into her belly when she wasn’t looking.

  “It happened the first night we were together,” Mandy said.

  Whoa.

  I stood, but the weight of that implication nearly slammed me to the couch again.

  “The…first time? You’ve been pregnant for…like three months!”

  She nodded. “I’m twelve weeks.”

  I had no idea what that meant. What the hell happened to nine months? Did all men have to do division in their heads? Fathers-to-be probably got really fucking good at mental math.

  I took a deep breath. It didn’t matter when or how. Mandy was pregnant. And she was scared.

  And so far, she had been alone.

  She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I planned to tell you after the wedding because the preparation
s were getting overwhelming. The stress and my parents fighting and Lindsey being Lindsey just made it too difficult. And…” She bit her lip. “The first trimester is tricky. A lot of things can go wrong.”

  Her voice cracked. I knew why. She didn’t want to think such horrible thoughts.

  Neither did I.

  She shifted from the bed to root in her closet and handed me a small picture.

  A sonogram.

  “I didn’t want to say anything until it was certain.” She pointed to the little blur. “That’s it.”

  I had no idea what I was looking at, so I stared at the words printed above it instead. Her name. Her birthdate.

  Today’s date.

  “This was from today?” I whispered.

  “Everything is…fine. Perfectly healthy.”

  “You went today. Alone?”

  She nodded.

  Oh shit. This wasn’t something she should have done alone. “Does anyone know?”

  She wiggled her hand. The Band-Aid still covered her stitches. “Rick knows. He found out when I went to the ER.”

  Rick?

  That son of a bitch. He knew the whole fucking time.

  I’d spent two hours with the bastard yesterday, moving tables and stringing lights in the bushes outside the church for the damn wedding. He pissed around with me, nearly getting my finger slammed on a rickety picnic table. Didn’t say a damn word. Just scowled.

  The asshole blamed me for getting Mandy in trouble.

  Damn it. I blamed myself too.

  She was a virgin when I took her, and she probably wasn’t on the pill. But I had used a condom.

  How the hell did I knock a virgin up? Jesus, I knew I was bad for her, but this bad?

  Mandy’s tone shifted. She tensed, and I wished she’d sit down.

  “No one else knows,” she said. It didn’t matter. “I didn’t want to upset Lindsey or Mom…and I don’t know how to tell my dad.”

  I clenched my jaw. “You didn’t tell me either.”

  She crossed her arms, almost shielding her stomach. She didn’t have to hide.

  It made sense now. Her body was softer than I remembered. Feminine. I didn’t see any…bump, but that didn’t mean anything, especially when I held the sonogram in my hand.

  “I wasn’t sure how to tell you,” she said. “I tried. A couple times.”

  Not hard enough. I dropped the photo before I accidently wrinkled it in my fist.

  “How could you keep this a secret? I deserved to know.”

  Mandy flinched. Her lip trembled, but she held it together.

  She shouldn’t have pretended to be brave. Why didn’t I just hold her? Shock still froze me in place.

  She swallowed. “You’re right. I wanted to tell you. I almost did a few weeks ago when we were doing the cake tasting. I had you in the back office alone. But then you told me about—”

  “California.”

  The thought shattered in my chest. Did I tell her I decided not to bid on the property in Santa Barbara? It hadn’t come up, and I hadn’t regretted missing the opportunity.

  Christ, all this time she kept the baby a secret because…

  “You thought I’d leave you?” The implication crushed me. “You were afraid to tell me about my baby because you were worried I’d move to the West Coast and leave you alone?”

  “No. No, that’s not it at all.” She reached for me. I stood instead. “Nate, I didn’t want to stand in your way. You had all these plans. You’ve always had these plans. You’re not like me or Lindsey or Bryce or Rick. You’ve been on your own, and you’ve made your success unconventionally. No college, no support from your parents. You had an amazing opportunity, and I refused to let this ruin it.”

  Ruin it?

  It was a baby, not a crisis. How long had she worried about this?

  “You should have talked to me the instant you found out.”

  “I know. I regret it. Nate, please, what we have is special. I was afraid this would jeopardize it.”

  “Didn’t you think I’d find out?”

  “I planned to tell you after the wedding.”

  “Why? So you could put everyone else first again? So you could worry about what they’d think or what they’d say? Mandy, you aren’t protecting them. You’re hiding from yourself and everything that this means.”

  Her eyes welled with tears. “I was scared.”

  “Yeah? I bet you were. I’m scared too, but Christ, I would’ve helped you. I would’ve protected you from anyone who gave you shit because you carried our baby.”

  And I meant it.

  Was I that untrustworthy? Did she think I wouldn’t be able to take care of her? That I couldn’t fix this?

  No one would give her grief for this. I wouldn’t let anyone shame her.

  Except Mandy worried about her family’s reaction. I hadn’t thought about mine.

  It was the first time in years I gave a damn what they’d say, and I knew exactly what my father would have asked of me.

  No, what he would have demanded I do.

  I never agreed with him before. Now it only made sense.

  “We should get married,” I said.

  Mandy stared at me, her eyes dark with exhaustion, stress, and utter disbelief. “Married?”

  My mind spelled the words with thorns. “Yeah. Married.”

  “But why?”

  “Because you’re pregnant.”

  “We can’t get married because we’re having a baby.”

  “Why the hell not?”

  More tears. More stress. More loneliness.

  Couldn’t I do anything right by her?

  “We can’t get married just because there’s a child involved.” Mandy covered her tummy with a hand. “You’ve seen everyone else’s marriage lately. Mom and Dad can’t stand each other. Lindsey might murder Bryce before they get to the altar. Mom’s off sleeping with the groom’s father…” She sucked in a breath. “And your parents are married, but they’re—”

  “This isn’t about them. This is about doing what’s right for us.”

  “It is about them! Look around you. No one has a happy marriage. Everyone stays together for the wrong reasons. We should learn from that, not replicate it!”

  That stung.

  No. It fucking hurt.

  “You wouldn’t want to be married to me?”

  “Nate, three months ago, your throat would have swollen shut over that word.”

  “Yeah? Well maybe that’s because I didn’t see what good there was in it. Not until I spent that night with you.” I swallowed. How could a woman as delicate as her rip me apart? “Maybe we didn’t have the connection I thought we did.”

  “What?” Mandy’s eyes glistened with tears. “We do. I know we do.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me the truth about the baby?”

  “I’m sorry—”

  I tugged on my shirt and turned to the door. Mandy rushed after me.

  She grabbed my arm. I resisted the urge to shake from her touch.

  Christ, how pathetic was I that I needed to feel her hands on my skin?

  “I have feelings for you,” she said. “Nate, I’ve never felt like this before, and that’s why we can’t rush into anything. I know you’re hurting, and this news is so shocking…but getting married for the wrong reasons isn’t noble or practical. It’ll only end in heartbreak. I don’t want that. It’d hurt too much.”

  Now I did pull from her. I left my voice low. Raw.

  “Yeah. Heartbreak sucks, doesn’t it?”

  Mandy called my name. I ignored her.

  The door slammed shut behind me.

  What was I doing?

  What was I supposed to do?

  I had to be calm, rational, and, above all else, comforting to the woman who seemed terrified to be having a baby.

  My baby.

  So far, I was doing a piss poor job of it. It wasn’t fair to her to leave, but if I didn’t sort my own shit out first, I’d say the w
rong thing and ruin everything. If I wanted to take care of her, I had to work through my own emotions.

  Even if I felt…betrayed.

  Not because she hid the truth, but because she feared that I wouldn’t have been there, helped her, or wanted her.

  She didn’t trust me, and the thought tore me apart.

  I drove to my bar, but I didn’t want to fight the crowd. Even isolated in my office, I’d have to fight through memories of her. Christ, she had tried to tell me about the baby that one day. Of course, I’d interrupted her and pressured her and chased her for all the wrong reasons.

  Goddamn it. I was an idiot. Blind to the most obvious thing any other man would have instantly realized from his woman. I knew Mandy was in trouble. She acted distant, was sick with stress. She guarded herself as best she could against my charm, but I’d never met a woman I couldn’t seduce.

  We hadn’t moved too fast, I just never stopped to see what she needed along the way.

  And it was me.

  Or I thought it was.

  I drove until I had no other place to go. Then I pulled into my parents’ driveway.

  It was late, but the light in the study was on. Dad said he prayed better at night, but he still enforced a strict silence during the day when Mom and I were home.

  The curtains stirred. I had a key for emergencies, but I never used it. As far as I was concerned, I escaped the house. That severed all ties.

  Except now.

  Figured.

  I knocked. Dad answered after a moment. He stood in the doorway, somehow colder than the door itself. I matched his scowl.

  It was a mistake to come here.

  “Nathan.” Dad’s voice rang with condescension. “Would you like to come in?”

  Any other father would have extended the invitation as a means to console an obviously troubled son. Not my father. His sneer was vindicating, as though he expected this moment. He’d always warned me of my errant ways and womanizing.

  Except Pastor Kensington wasn’t afraid for my mortal soul. He wanted to make sure our good name wasn’t marred by my indiscretions.

  So he’d probably love this.

  I accepted the invitation inside, but I lurked in the entryway like a stranger. I followed him to his study. Nothing had changed there. No dust. Not a spec of anything out of place. The only clutter he permitted was his Bible, and even that was for show.