Forbidden Dad: The Irresistible Daddies Book 2

by Kaylee, Katy

  “Oh my god, that’s so cool, your mom is like, so generous!”

  “She totally is!”

  I tried not to smile as I drove the two college-aged girls to a trendy club, Riche, in downtown Milwaukee. I hadn’t been doing so well with tips tonight, but their talk filled me with confidence. Hopefully, they’ll be generous, I thought as I slowed for a stop sign.

  “Hey,” one of the girls said. She reached up from the back seat and tapped me on the shoulder. “Are you pregnant?”

  I flushed and nodded.

  “Is it your first?”

  I flushed harder. “Yes,” I said awkwardly. Now that I was starting to show, I’d had the occasional passenger ask me about the baby. Some people even saw me carrying their groceries up to their front door and would rush out to help, while others looked at my belly with pity ... and my empty left ring-finger with disdain.

  “That’s cool,” she said, tossing her hair. It struck me how young the two of them looked, younger than Hollie and I had looked in years.

  This summer had aged me tremendously.

  “I can’t imagine having a baby right now,” the other girl chimed in. “I’m like, way too young for that.”

  I swallowed. “I’m not that old,” I admitted. “I’m only twenty.”

  To my surprise – and unhappiness – the two girls burst into laughter, then immediately clapped their hands over their mouths.

  “Oh my god, I’m like, so sorry I said that,” one of them said. “That was like, super rude. I didn’t mean to criticize, it’s just like, wow, I feel so young.”

  I met her eyes in the rearview mirror. I used to feel so young, too, I thought. And then this summer happened to me.

  “It’s okay,” I said, as charitably as I could muster.

  When I pulled up to Riche and idled at the curb, the girls hopped out of my backseat without tipping me. I groaned and put my head down on the steering wheel. I was exhausted. I’d worked nine hours that day and then immediately come home to drive for the ride-sharing service. Now, it was time to go home for a quick meal and a nap before going out again after all the bars and clubs closed. I’d only made about twenty dollars in tips, and I wasn’t looking forward to it.

  But I had a lot of hard work in front of me. Eighteen years, minimum. I knew that some women looked at having a baby as a prison sentence, but I was looking forward to it. I hadn’t been a great student, and as much as I wanted to help people, I didn’t think that I’d have made a great counselor.

  But maybe, just maybe, I’d be a good mother. As long as my child knew that he or she was always loved, I had a feeling that it couldn’t be that difficult.

  “And you are loved, baby,” I said softly, looking down and putting my hand on my little bump. “So, don’t ever forget that.”

  Someone honked at me and I yelled ‘sorry!’ before pulling away from the curb and heading in the direction of my apartment. Despite being two hours away from Chicago, the streets of Milwaukee had the same names, and painful nostalgia always flashed through me when I drove them. There was a lot of traffic – it being a Friday, a lot of people were headed out to party. I eyed them with a mixture of envy and sadness. These people didn’t have eat instant food for every meal because they were so worried about money. They hadn’t been dumb enough to lose a scholarship and ruin their future.

  I swallowed hard as tears came to my eyes. I couldn’t keep doing this, thinking this way. It was totally counterproductive, and while it sounded silly, I had a feeling that my baby could sense my emotions.

  I put my hand on my little bump. “I love you, you know,” I said, rubbing my stomach. I was only at the end of my first trimester, but it felt like I’d been pregnant forever. I couldn’t wait until my baby had grown more, until I could feel them kicking inside of me and moving.

  When I got home, I parked on the street and got out of my car to stretch. The late-summer air was still warm, but there was a definite chill that hadn’t been there a month ago, and I wondered if the winters would be anything like the winters in Chicago: cold and punishing and unrelenting.

  As I approached my apartment, I saw someone standing on the front stoop and my heart sank. Great, another vagrant, I thought, making a mental note to call my landlord in the morning. This apartment was cheap, and my neighborhood was full of homeless people.

  In many ways, it reminded me of Rogers Park, the shitty Chicago neighborhood where I’d lived before Harrison had rescued me.

  I held my keys tightly in my fist as I approached, fully prepared to defend myself against a mentally unstable homeless person, but the man turned and the lurid yellow porch light caught his face.

  It wasn’t a homeless man.

  It was Harrison, and he looked drawn and tired.

  I froze in my tracks. How had he managed to track me down? Had Hollie given him my address? I wondered exactly what he knew. Although I was wearing a loose sweater over leggings, those college girls had seen my baby bump.

  Would Harrison see it, too? Or had Hollie already told him the truth? I was going to have to be careful if I wanted to keep it concealed.

  Harrison cleared his throat. “We need to talk,” he said, stepping closer. I didn’t want him in my apartment – besides the fact that I was ashamed of how seedy it was, there were baby books and things scattered all over.

  “Okay,” I said uncertainly. “There’s a café a couple of blocks over.”

  Harrison gave me a strange look, but he followed me down the street and over two blocks to a place that functioned as a coffee shop during the day and a hipster hangout at night. I ordered decaf tea and Harrison ordered black coffee – he paid for both of our orders before I could stop him. He led me to a back booth and I sat down opposite from him.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked softly, blowing on the surface of my tea.

  Harrison stared at me with a serious expression on his face. I thought that I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes, but I couldn’t be sure. My heart began to thud faster and I swallowed, frustrated that even after all this time, Harrison still had the same intoxicating effect on me.

  It wasn’t fair. Would I ever be free of him and the spell he had put me under ten years ago? Would I ever be able to move on and have a normal life?

  I knew that I wouldn’t. Not now, and not ever. I was carrying his child, and that would link the two of us together for the rest of my life.

  “I came to see the mother of my child,” Harrison said. “It seems that we have a lot to talk about.”

  I froze with my cup of tea halfway to my mouth. For a horrible moment, I felt like the world around me was melting.

  “How did you find out?” I asked softly.

  “Hollie told me,” Harrison said gruffly. He cleared his throat. “She doesn’t know who the father is, but I sure as hell do. You were a virgin when I took you, and I doubt you’ve been with anyone since. The baby is mine.”

  I swallowed hard, then gave a single nod of my head.

  “And I’m not going to let you raise it alone,” Harrison said.

  I closed my eyes and leaned back against the booth, suddenly feeling exhausted. I’d worked all day, and had had plans to work even more that night, but I didn’t think I had it in me any longer. All I wanted to do was lie down and go to sleep forever, safe and snug on the rummage-sale futon I’d bought when I’d first arrived in Milwaukee.

  Harrison hadn’t come for me – he’d come for the baby in my belly. He knew that I loved him. He knew just how much I loved him, and he didn’t return those feelings.

  I got to my feet, setting my unfinished cup of tea down on the table.

  “I’m not into being bossed around anymore,” I said. “I made my choice, and it’s final.”

  Harrison didn’t reply, and I turned on my heel and left the café, striding into the dark summer air all alone.

  But I didn’t get far. After only a couple of footsteps, I felt a hand at my elbow. I turned around and saw Harrison standing behind me.
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  “And what about my choice?” Harrison asked. “Don’t I get one?”

  I looked around us. There were throngs of drunk people moving from one bar to the other, throwing their heads back and laughing and taking group selfies and acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  I hadn’t wanted him to see my apartment, but if we were going to have a serious conversation, it wasn’t going to be here. With Harrison walking behind me, I led him the three blocks to my apartment so that we could finish our conversation in peace.

  27

  Harrison – Friday

  When I saw the shithole studio where Paris had been living, it broke my heart. The entire thing would have fit in my garage, and the place was a mess. The bed was a small futon with a ripped mattress and she had been using a wooden crate as a coffee table. There was no TV, and her laptop lay on top of the bedclothes, occupying the space where another person would have slept.

  There was a used crib in one corner, partially assembled, and a dog-eared copy of What to Expect When You’re Expecting. Seeing those things felt like a punch to the gut. I hated that she’d run away, hated that she seemed to want nothing to do with me.

  But most of all, I hated that I’d already missed so much of her pregnancy. If I’d known, I would have wanted to be there for all of it: doctors’ appointments or swollen feet or craving for insane food combinations. I resolved to myself that I wouldn’t miss any more of those moments. I had to convince Paris of the truth, that we belonged together, and I wasn’t going to leave until she’d heard me out.

  Paris blushed sheepishly as she moved her laptop off the bed, folded the covers, and moved the bed into a futon. She perched on one end of it, curling her long legs under her frame. She was still slender, but there was a fullness to her face that hadn’t been there before and I saw the faintest hint of a bulge under the loose sweater that she wore.

  “Why did you do it?” I asked. “Leave without a word, refuse to speak to me or Hollie?”

  Paris didn’t answer. She pressed her pouty lips into a firm line and looked down at her hands. I saw that the skin around her nails was red and chapped, and I wanted to take her hands in mine and massage them until she relaxed. Everything about the apartment screamed misery: the patched ceiling, the loud barks of dogs that could be heard from outside, the obviously second-hand furniture that Paris had filled it with. She had a small kitchenette with an open trash can and I saw several empty packages of ramen noodles and instant soup and macaroni in cheese.

  I frowned.

  “Don’t tell me that you’ve just been eating that shit,” I said. “You’re pregnant. You need to take care of yourself.”

  Paris glared at me. “I have to save money,” she said hotly, with more determination than I’d ever heard in her voice. “It’s not like I have a choice. I can’t really afford anything else.”

  Hearing her say that – and knowing that it killed her to admit it – broke my heart. I wanted to pull her into my arms and stroke her hair and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but I needed answers first.

  “You need to tell me why you ran off like that,” I said. “I need to know.”

  Paris gnawed on her lower lip. “I ... I didn’t think you’d be interested in raising a family with me,” she said. “I practically threw myself at you, only to be rejected every single time. And you said yourself that you’d never marry again.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

  Paris flushed. “I heard you talking to Krista,” she said. “When she came over to ask for help with Hollie. You told her that you were never going to marry again.”

  I reached over and took her narrow shoulders in my hands, staring deeply into her face.

  “I misspoke that day,” I told her. “What I meant is that I’d never marry another woman like Krista again. I’d never marry someone cruel and hungry for money.”

  Paris trembled slightly.

  “The woman I love is kind, compassionate, and innocent despite all that she’s been through,” I said, lifting one hand from Paris’s shoulder and putting a finger under her chin. She wasn’t looking at me, and I tilted her head up so that I could meet her eyes.

  “I am ready to marry again,” I said. “I’m ready to marry you.”

  Paris blinked several times, and I watched as tears filled her emerald eyes. She bit her lip and gave a brief shake of her head as a single tear ran down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “But no.”

  In a single moment, I felt my heart shatter.

  “I don’t just want you to marry me because I’m pregnant with your child,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want to trap you into another loveless marriage.”

  I could have melted with relief.

  “Whatever’s between us, it isn’t loveless,” I told her firmly. “I’m not marrying you just because of the baby. I would be marrying you because I love you.”

  Paris’s eyes got even wider, and her lovely pink lips parted slightly. I could see that she was breathing fast and hard and even though I knew that we still had a lot to discuss, I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.

  Leaning forward, I pressed my mouth to hers in a passionate kiss.

  It had only been a month since I’d been with Paris, but already I felt as if no time had passed between us. She moaned softly and moved closer, flowing into my arms like she always did. Somehow, impossibly, she even still smelled the same, like sweet florals and candy as she opened her mouth to my probing tongue and pressed her tits to my chest.

  “I missed you so fucking much,” I growled into her mouth as the kiss grew more intense. Paris shivered and wrapped her arms around my neck, straddling me and kissing me softly as she ran her hands through my hair. The rest of the world fell away as we kissed and kissed, and I was aware only her and myself tangled up together. I traced light patterns on her back with my fingertips over her sweater, making her shudder and whimper into my mouth as my hands moved lower and lower, until I was cupping her ass. My cock was already hard, but I wanted to take it slow this time – I wanted to show Paris how much I loved her.

  “Harrison,” Paris moaned softly, breaking the kiss and arching her back to display her lovely neck. She rolled her hips on mine as I leaned closer and began licking and biting her neck. She tasted so good, so sweet and musky, and I nuzzled her collarbone before gently nipping at her shoulder through her sweater. Paris was breathing hard as I slipped my hands under her sweater and cupped her breasts. They were full and heavy – bigger than before, and my cock throbbed as I fingered her stiff nipples through her flimsy bra.

  “Wait,” Paris gasped. She climbed off me and I saw that her face was flushed. She gestured for me to get up and confused, I did so. Paris bit her lip and gave me a shy, coy smile as she folded the couch back down into a bed and covered it with a blanket. Giving me another inviting smile, she laid down on the futon and held her arms out expectantly for me.

  Watching her, waiting for me, filled me with a kind of intense happiness that I’d never felt before. I barely noticed the grimy room as I lay down beside her and kissed her.

  “I love you,” I told her. “And I’m going to show you as best I can.”

  28

  Paris – Friday

  Harrison joined me on the futon and suddenly, my grubby little bed was transformed into something magical. When he took my face in his hands and kissed me, I shuddered and moaned and wrapped my legs around his waist. I wanted him – all of him, more of him than I’d ever had in my life. We kissed and kissed, rolling on top of each other as feelings of love and arousal grew in my fertile body.

  I had missed him so much and somehow, I’d forgotten how wonderful being physical with him felt. As he slipped his hands under my sweater and pushed it up and over my head, I shivered with want. Harrison dipped his head to my chest and nuzzled my breasts, licking and sucking at my nipples through the scratchy lace of m
y bra. Intense pleasure exploded in my body and I arched my back and shuddered, moaning softly as Harrison pulled each breast free of its cup and rubbed my nipples between his fingers. The extra hormones swimming through my body made it feel better than ever before and I whimpered and thrust my body against his, eagerly grinding my hips against his pelvis. I could feel how hard he was, and it was driving me crazy.

  “I want to please you,” I begged, whimpering and screwing my eyes shut as Harrison flicked his hot tongue over my nipples. Little flashes and explosions of ecstasy rumbled through my body with each passing second and Harrison groaned as I put my hand to his crotch and rubbed his erect cock through his pants. He felt even bigger than I remembered and I blushed hotly as I rolled to the side and got on all fours, my tits swinging like heavy pendulums from my chest. Harrison reached behind me and fumbled with the clasp of my bra, practically ripping it away from my body. He played with my engorged breasts, teasing and stroking and pinching them as I crawled between his legs and nuzzled his cock through his pants. The light touch was enough to make Harrison groan and growl with lust and I locked eyes with him as I undid his belt and pulled it through the loops of his pants. I unfastened them and unzipped the fly, sliding them down his lean hips. He was wearing black boxers and his cock was pitching a tent. Licking my lips, I dipped my head to his lower belly and nuzzled his salt-and-pepper tangle of pubic hair before hooking my fingers in the waistband of his boxers and yanking them down his legs. His cock bobbed free and there was already a creamy, glistening drop of pre-cum at the tip.

  “God, I missed the way you taste,” I moaned softly as I dipped my head to his cock and took it in my mouth. Harrison squeezed and pinched my nipples, sending intense shockwaves of pleasure through my body as I took the head of his magnificent dick into my mouth. Harrison bucked his hips and thrust deep into my throat, and I wrapped one hand around the base of his manhood and began to move my hand up and down in a rhythm that came back to me like I had always been a natural. As I sucked and licked at him, giving him all the pleasure I could, I felt myself grow wetter and wetter. I arched my back and stuck my ass high in the air, swaying it back and forth. I knew that Harrison was watching, that he wanted me, but I loved teasing him like this. Sucking his cock made me feel powerful and sexy, like I was holding him in the palm of my hand, and Harrison’s guttural groans of lust and pleasure were all the affirmation I needed. He tasted so salty and clean and familiar and good that I couldn’t stand it, and I moaned softly as I sucked and licked, swirling my tongue faster and faster.