My Mom's Fiance: A Dark Bad Boy Romance

by Cassandra Dee

  But I shook my head.

  “No, I don’t think this is what my son had in mind,” I said slowly. “Robbie wants me to date, yes, but not so close to home.”

  “Home, schmome,” scoffed Angie. “Your man is traveling all the time, your son is at college sixty miles away, nothing is close to home, honey. Trust me Marie, you’re being too hard on yourself. The smallest challenge pops up and immediately you’re a damsel in distress thinking, “This’ll never work.” What never was going to work was your marriage to your ex, honey, marriage to that loser was going to work, I could have told you that before you married Rob. But this? This is different, there are no rings yet, there are no promises. So just give it a try, darlin’, give Trent a call and see what happens.”

  I laughed then, a small half-laugh, half-sob into the phone. Because Angie and I have been friends forever, she’d seen me through my marriage and divorce, through the highs and lows, the rollercoaster of life, and knew me better than almost anybody. And her solid support, her reassurance, the bulwark of strength, gave me so much confidence, pulling me through a tough time, a ray of hope in the darkness.

  “Maybe,” I murmured into the phone. “Maybe.” I wasn’t making any promises, this was too much to take. But Angie was all over it.

  “Good,” she encouraged. “I’m hanging up now so you can call him.”

  I squealed.

  “Ang, no, not yet! Right this moment? No, I’m not ready.”

  My friend chuckled, rolling her eyes, I could hear it even through the phone.

  “Okay, not this very second then,” she agreed lightly. “But tomorrow okay? Call him tomorrow. Imagine that voice, his voice speaking into your ear, saying “Marie.””

  And although it sounds lame, I swooned a little. I imagined Trent’s voice in my mind, the deep, soft velvet, how he’d whispered my name to me while we were in bed, how he’d muttered my name into my folds while licking my pussy, how he roared my name as he came, his dick hard in my butt. Oh god, everything about him made my heart beat fast, my pussy moisten.

  So I had to do it. Even if all it did was cause me more heartache, I had to talk to Trent again. I had to see where this would go, where it could lead, and maybe, just maybe, we might have a future. After all, what was there to lose? I’d stepped out of my cocoon once, and it had brought me true love. If I stepped out again, what might happen? I wasn’t sure, but as I bit my lip, my heart pounded even faster thinking to the conversation ahead. Because I had to talk to Trent again … my love, my life, my everything.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Trent

  Shit, I was exhausted. Traveling is one of the best and worst parts of the job. On the one hand, you see new cities, places you’d never go on your own dime. On the other, it’s fucking exhausting when you’ve got a full schedule, training during the day and then a game at night, it wears you out, grinding until you fall into bed, weary and spent.

  And lately, I’d been the club hermit. Sure, the other guys sometimes drank at the bar or visited the local strip club, but these were young dudes with the energy to party, to find chicks, to hook up with the inevitable groupies at every stop. But for me, it’d lost its allure. There was only one woman on my mind, one woman who ruled my thoughts, her face dancing before me whenever I closed my eyes and I couldn’t do anything but think of her. Shit, I’d spent the last week holed up in my room after practices, ordering room service, acting like a fucking dirty old man as I stroked one after another out, lusting after Marie.

  And it was more than lust. I loved that woman, I absolutely adored the ground she walked on, the brunette ruled my heart, mind and soul. And yet here I was, alone every night. What the fuck. WTF, seriously, my life was a fucking mess.

  So I snorted angrily, striding through the hotel lobby. This sucked balls, my life sucked balls despite the fact that we’d had an awesome game, my stats were sure to improve given the bases stolen, the runs I’d batted in. I should have been on top of the world but instead, I was fucking miserable, ready to bark at anyone, ready to snap a couple necks if need be.

  And that’s when I saw her. The brunette stood by a console in the lobby, looking uncertain, chewing her lip but oh so beautiful. Marie was a breath of fresh air, her face open, innocent, that curly brown hair hanging over her back. Oh god, how I wanted to wrap it around my dick again, pull it tight as she came hard, wrenching her backwards as her pussy convulsed for me. But what the fuck was she doing here? We were in Detroit and plane fare’s not exactly cheap.

  She caught sight of me then, and my body went from alert to fucking red alert, triple self-destruct. Because shit, I’d forgotten how compelling she was in person, those big brown eyes wide, making my soul melt, how her breasts heaved, huge and bouncy beneath her sweater. And in two steps, I was before her.

  “What are you doing here?” I ground out. Shit, that sounded rough, like an angry bear so I cleared my throat. “What brings you here?” I managed more normally. God, I hope I hadn’t scared her away already.

  And her eyes flickered to me, hopeful and tentative.

  “Hi Trent,” she murmured softly, biting her lip once more, highlighting that perfect peachy pout. What I wouldn’t give to push her to her knees, right here, right now, and have her suck me off, I needed the woman that bad, absolutely craved her loving. But I made myself stay sane.

  “Marie, fuck it, let’s go up to my room,” I said roughly. I couldn’t help it, my nerves were shot the moment she appeared, a jangling mess of shit. But I didn’t want to scare her with the cave man act, so I tried again. Taking a deep breath, I smiled although that too, was a little forced.

  “Marie, let’s go up and you can tell me everything,” I tried in a more neutral tone. “Alright? This isn’t the greatest place,” I rumbled, gesturing to the random passerby, the usual tourists going in and out.

  And the brunette bit her lip and nodded, flushing softly.

  “Sure Trent, no prob,” she said, reaching down to grab a small bag at her feet.

  I stood stock still. Holy shit, that was an overnight bag. Where was she staying? Here? At the hotel? With me? Or was she getting another room? Shit, I had no idea, the blood coursing through my veins but I couldn’t stop to think, couldn’t stop to hope. With a grunt, I reached forward and took the bag from her, like it weighed nothing.

  “After you,” I said, nodding to the elevator, and the woman moved forward, her round form lush, swaying with every step. I groaned internally again, shit I needed her and that ass beckoned to me, the heavy heart-shape, the white orbs mountainous and fleshy. I needed to be in her again, feeling that hot, dry channel gripping me, hearing her moan as she rode my dick with her anus.

  But shit, we were so far from that it was laughable. Because I still had nothing to offer Marie, nothing that a woman of her stripe would be happy with. Despite my amazing performance on the field lately, I was still a penniless ballplayer, chasing a dream, something that had one in a billion chance of happening. Because there are so many dudes in the minors, a shit ton of us playing junior league at the local community field, killing ourselves, hoping to catch the eye of the scout, waiting for some big team to call. But you know what? It happens about never. Sure, we all knew one or two guys who’d moved up, but that was one or two guys from the thousands in the crowd. And they’d been signed to week-long contracts, it wasn’t like they’d hit the majors for good.

  So I was still me, an itinerant journeyman, peddling my wares, trying to find a buyer. And Marie deserved better than that. She deserved a billionaire, a man who could take care of her so that she’d never have to work again, she could eat bon-bons all day and lay on her back, taking long baths and reading novels in bed. That’s what I wanted to give her but I didn’t have it. I didn’t have it, and it killed me, coming up short when I wanted the best for my girl.

  So my mood darkened, deepening into self-loathing as I opened the door to my room. No frills here, just your usual commuter hotel, a big double bed, a TV and a desk
. There was no seating area, no free Wi-Fi, and the mini-bar was shit as always. But I offered her a drink.

  “Whiskey? Beer? Wine? Or there’s some sparkling water,” I grunted, striding across the room.

  And the brunette nodded, murmuring “Water please,” before seating herself gingerly on the bed. Gone were the days where we would have been all over each other in an instant, tearing off our clothes, my dick buried deep in those soft folds at the drop of a hat. Instead, we were practically like strangers, her movements tentative, mine rough to disguise the hatred I felt for myself. Fuck, I was such a loser, I wanted nothing but to sweep her off her feet and yet here we were in this dingy hotel, awkward and uncomfortable.

  So I cleared my throat again.

  “What brings you here?” I asked roughly, expressionless. “What bring you to Detroit? You have business?” I couldn’t imagine it, unless nurses traveled across state lines now.

  And Marie shook her head.

  “No, not exactly,” she said hesitantly. “Well, a little,” she admitted. Oh fuck, I had been wrong. The brunette did have business, she wasn’t here to see me, and my heart plummeted.

  “A conference?” I asked. They did those medical conferences all the time right? Where pharmaceutical reps chatted up doctors, that sort of thing. But Marie shook her head.

  “No, not exactly,” she murmured again before taking a deep breath. “Trent, I came here to see you,” she said with a whoosh, lifting those big brown eyes to me.

  And I could hardly breathe, her words unbelievable, the confession so astonishing, arousing. Here in Detroit, this rust-belt city, to see me? I was only here for two nights myself, this was hardly some love getaway where we’d explore one another. But the brunette shook her head again.

  “Trent,” she said softly, “I wanted to see you because …” Her voice trailed off.

  “Because?” I prompted.

  And the brunette blushed then.

  “Because you left me a gift, and I wanted to talk about it,” she confessed softly. It was my turn to get hard then, unable to move a muscle. Oh shit, right, I’d left her a cup of my jism that morning before I took off, a warm, bubbly sample of my stuff. There was no note, no explanation, but I wanted her to have it … if she wanted it.

  “I was just wondering why you left it?” she asked tremulously. “After you know, everything we did, why did you give that to me?”

  And I paused for a moment, almost unable to breathe. I’d left it for her on the off chance she wanted my baby, that she wanted to get pregnant with my child. I hadn’t come in her pussy during our time together, taking her ass again and again, but if she wanted, and this was a big if, I was giving her my semen to put in the inseminator, to seed those ovaries so that we could have a baby. Because fuck yeah, I wanted Marie, I wanted that gorgeous form to swell with my child, not some other man, some fucking faceless donor. I wanted that sweet body to harbor my baby, to have my son or daughter inside, to watch as she grew ripe and round, growing with my seed. But it’d been too hard to explain then, too difficult to put words. So I tried now.

  “Marie,” I ground out. “You’ve been using the inseminator, we’d been using it together so that you could get pregnant.”

  And she nodded silently, biting her lip.

  “Yes, but I was going to use donor semen,” she said softly. “Some guy that I picked from a database.”

  I could feel the rage welling in me, at the mere thought of the faceless competition.

  “Well, I was thinking,” I ground out roughly, “that I’d save you thousands by making a donation myself,” I said. “Didn’t you say it was going to take a couple rounds of insemination, that usually the first time doesn’t work? At a couple hundred per pop, it ends up costing a lot.”

  The brunette nodded thoughtfully, eyes soft.

  “Yes, but I didn’t think that you wanted to be my donor,” she said quietly. “You could have, anytime we were together, but you didn’t. So why now?” she asked, lifting her eyes to mine.

  And this was the hard part. But I went with it, I had to tell her the words ringing in my head, the rumblings of my soul.

  “Marie, I’m not exactly the most eligible donor,” I said roughly. “There aren’t many women who want a baby with me. Not for the right reasons, anyway,” I said with a half-snort. “You know my life, right? I’m a ballplayer hoping to hit the majors. But that’s the thing. I haven’t made it yet, and I make shit, I travel all the time, the games are in different cities almost every night. I don’t have anything to offer, not anything you’d want anyways,” I ground out, the words themselves tearing me apart. Oh shit, oh shit, a tense burning sensation was rising in my chest, a lump forming in my throat. Fuck, was I going to cry?

  But the woman took my hand then, pulling me to sit next to her on the bed, my big frame looming over hers.

  “But Trent, it’s so easy,” she breathed, one soft hand caressing my face. “Do you want me? Do you want me, Marie Sands?”

  And I had to take her then, I had to touch that mouth, taste the sweetness, the goodness that kept me up every night, dreaming about her.

  “Fuck yes, I want you,” I ground out, dragging her to me, smashing my mouth down on hers, drawing a deep kiss from her soul, branding this woman as mine once more. Because I couldn’t resist. She was so beautiful, everything I’d ever desired, and with her so near yet so far, I was coming apart at the seams, my world destroyed.

  But despite my ravaging hands, the fingers at her sweater, unbuttoning her jeans, she stopped me, pulling away gently, looking me in the eye.

  “Then we’ll figure it out, okay?” she murmured softly. “If you want me, then we’ll figure it out.”

  And I sat back then, breathing heavily, so angry, so frustrated with myself.

  “There’s nothing to figure out,” I ground out. “I’m climbing a fucking mountain here, and it’s bigger than Mount Everest. I have nothing to offer you,” I said, the words bitter on my lips. “You know how many dudes die trying to climb this mountain? How many dudes never make it to the big leagues? Yeah, it’s probably going to be me,” I spat sarcastically.

  But Marie was different, brown eyes soft, her hand still stroking my jaw, down the tense muscles of my neck.

  “Trent,” she began again softly. “Even if you’re climbing Mount Everest, pursuing a dream in a sky, I want you to dream,” she said. “That’s what I love about you, that ability to dream, that ability to go for what you want. And I can be your safety net,” she added with a gentle smile. “All climbers go up there with hooks and tackles and all sorts of safety gear, right? I’ll be your safety gear.”

  And I drew back, astonished. Because I’d never thought of this woman as anything other than a cherished possession, someone to ravish, to love, to adore, I wanted to give her the world. But she was turning my world on its head. The brunette was offering to be my safety net, to be the warm arms that held me after a tough night, to let me suckle at her breast, to let go and relax when the outside was bitterly cold.

  And I was flummoxed, with no idea what to do or think. This turned everything around, I’d always thought of myself as the alpha male, the provider, the source of everything. But Marie laughed softly, reading my mind.

  “Trent, you are the alpha male, that’s why I love you so much,” she said. My breath literally stopped on the word “love.” Shit, she loved me? This amazing woman loved me? I thought I might pass out from lack of air, from the intense wave of emotion flooding my heart, revitalizing me, making me a new man. Oh please, shit, yes.

  And the brunette smiled again.

  “Trent, I adore you,” she said softly. “It’s the alpha in you that makes me come, makes me tremble. But there are benefits to dating an older woman,” she added, “and one of them is that you get the whole me. I’ve seen a little of the world, you don’t have to be the all-knowing protector, the all-knowing god who controls everything. Because no one is that,” she said thoughtfully. “And I don’t expect that o
f you. What I want is serious loving. You and I, together, working it out, seeing what works and what doesn’t, how to make it past any obstacles. Because,” she said, taking a deep breath. “The things you mentioned aren’t obstacles. I don’t care about the money, and I love that you’re pursuing your dream. If you have to travel, then so be it, I’d never hold it against you, never take that away from you.”

  And I crushed her to me then, pulling that soft body against mine, the voluptuous curves beckoning to me, making me so hard, making me literally shake with want for this woman.

  “But honey, it’s gonna be hard,” I ground out. “Like I said, there’s no money right now, there’s nothing but work, and I can’t be there for you every day. I can’t be by your side, we can’t talk every day in person.”

  The brunette pulled back, laughing a little.

  “But we can still talk,” she chided gently, a smile playing at her lips. “We can still talk, there is such a thing as a cell phone you know.”

  And I crushed her to me again, grazing her soft cheek, taking her lips for another kiss.

  “There is, but would you be happy with that?” I ground out. “Because even if you’re pregnant with my child, I still wouldn’t be able to come home. See how fucking fucked up it is?” I said, chest tightening again, expecting her rejection once more, expecting to be kicked to the curb. “I fully intend on getting you pregnant, I want your beautiful body ripe and full with my child, but honey, that doesn’t mean I can stay.”

  And the brunette took a deep breath then, flushing at the thought of a baby, letting my seed take root in her sweet body. And she inhaled deeply then, those huge orbs pressing tightly against my chest, squirming a bit so that she sat in my lap, that big butt so full, teasing my dick. But this was serious shit and Marie wasn’t done yet.

  “I know, Trent. And I love that about you. It will be hard,” she acknowledged, “It’ll be hard with me pregnant and you on the road. But we’ll survive, we’ll make it work,” she whispered, her sweet breath mingling with mine. “There are more difficult things in life, and if we both want it, we can make it work.”