Love Undercover_A Romance Compilation

by Amy Brent

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Soak my dick with your sweet juices.”

  He pulled out and pushed in slowly, working my pussy over and over. I felt him pull out, leaving the tip of his cock at my entrance. I shimmied my hips, wanting him back inside me.

  “Take me,” he whispered.

  I pushed away from the door, arching my back, his hand still holding my shoulder in place. I slowly slid over his dick, relishing in the feel. He thrust deep inside, finding the spot that always made my body respond in the best way. His free arm snaked around my waist, anchoring me in place as he slammed into me.

  With no warning, my body burst into a million pieces. He didn’t move as the orgasm controlled every nerve and muscle in my body.

  “It has to come off,” he demanded.

  I didn’t have to wonder what he was talking about. His hands were on the borrowed shirt, violently yanking it up my back with his dick still buried inside me. Within seconds the shirt was off and in one swift move my bra fell to the floor. His hands massaged my breasts before squeezing both nipples at the same time.

  “Ohhhh,” I cried out, the sensation shooting straight to my pussy still clenching his dick inside me.

  He dropped my breasts and I could feel him jerking his own shirt off. The movement jerked his cock inside me.

  “There!” I screamed as my body jerked at the onset of another orgasm. His hands were on my hips anchoring me in place on his shaft as my body convulsed again. My head pressed against the door as I rose up on my tip toes, riding the wave of the powerful climax. It was too good. I wanted to collapse into a pile, with his cock still stuck inside me of course.

  He pulled out, “Get them off!” he ordered.

  I turned around in a bit of a daze, confused and immediately feeling empty without his body pressed against mine.

  When I saw him kicking off his boots and pants, I knew exactly what he meant. With record speed, I removed the rest of my clothing. His naked body slammed against mine, my nipples brushing over his hairy chest as his dick pressed into my belly.

  One of his hands grabbed my thigh, as he lifted my leg and hitched it high on his hip. The movement left me completely open for his invasion. He bent his knees, grabbed his dick with his free hand and slid inside me. My passage was slick with my own need and made his entry easy. My head leaned back against the door as he thrust higher.

  “You’re so hot. I want to fuck you all the time. I can’t think of anything else but burying my dick deep inside you. What have you fucking done to me!” he demanded, forcefully pulling out and shoving back inside.

  My back slammed against the door with each stroke. I held on to his shoulders for support. The man was a machine, crushing my body with his. It was animalistic, primal and absolutely the hottest thing I had ever experienced. I never wanted it to end.

  And I did this to him. It was a heady reality that made me feel sexy as hell. He craved my body as much as I craved his.

  “More,” I demanded when his furious pace began to slow. “Fuck me harder. Now!” I ordered, feeling emboldened. He stripped away all my inhibitions and replaced them with power that only he could give me. It was that empowered feeling that made the orgasms so much more powerful than any I had ever experienced with other men. I could let go and get completely lost in the moment.

  “You want more? I’ll give you more!” he roared, slamming into me so hard the force lifted the one foot I had on the ground.

  “Oh God! Harder!” I screamed, feeling a strong orgasm coming.

  He shouted, his head thrown back with his long hair falling around his shoulders and a look of pure determination and desire across his face. Watching him focus so intently on driving into me was the hottest thing I had ever seen. His eyes stared into mine, and I was lost, tumbling into a sweet abyss as his thrusts pushed me up the door.

  I screamed out, matching his yell as the orgasm rocked my body bringing his along with it. We both yelled and screamed as our releases took over full control of our movements. We were powerless against the electricity humming between us and through our joined bodies.

  Once finished, he pulled out and dropped my leg. Even with both legs on the ground, I was too weak too stand and slowly slid down the door, landing on my ass. Icy, cold wetness greeted my feverish skin. Melting snow was pooled beneath on the floor, causing me to jerk back up.

  “Yikes! That was cold,” I said, grabbing my leggings and quickly pulling them on, leaving my panties on the ground where they had been tossed. I pulled on the t-shirt, leaving my bra off.

  It seemed to save time if I left them off. Whenever I was with him time was critical. I had plans to do him again. If it hadn’t been so cold I would have just stayed naked.

  Jake picked up his clothing, quickly dressed and then sat on the couch, his face buried in his hands. I walked over and snuggled beside him.

  “What’s wrong? I asked, wondering how anyone could look that grim after what we had just done.

  He pulled his hands away and looked at me. “I didn’t use a condom.”

  I could hear the strain in his voice. My heart leapt at the idea of him feeling badly about something that had been so beautiful and amazing. I wanted him to bask in the afterglow with me—not have regrets.

  I shrugged, “No, you didn’t. You didn’t the last couple of times either,” I reminded him.

  His eyes widened, “How could I be so stupid and reckless! I never do that!”

  I looked away, not able to look him in the eyes. I knew I had to tell him. He needed to know. “It’s okay, Jake, really.”

  “No, it isn’t. That was stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he groaned.

  How could I tell him protection was the last thing on my mind because I knew I didn’t need it? I mean, duh, I would use a condom if I was sleeping with some random stranger, but I trusted him. I couldn’t explain why, but I just had a sense he was okay. If only I would have thought about a condom all those years ago when I had met him in that bar.

  “Jake, I’m clean. I assume you’re clean?”

  He looked at me with disgust. “Yes, I’m clean. I always use protection. Always. I never touch a woman without a condom. Until you. You fuck me up and I can’t think straight.”

  “It’s okay. Really.”

  I could see the misery on his face and knew I had to tell him the truth. I wasn’t worried in the slightest, which made our sex all the better. He deserved that same comfort.

  “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I should have been more careful.”

  I took a deep breath and steeled my nerves. “Jake, I never thought about a condom because I know I don’t need to worry about getting pregnant.”

  He shook his head. “No birth control is a hundred percent effective. There’s always that slim chance.”

  Looking down at my hands folded in my lap, I replied, “I can’t have kids. I don’t have to worry about birth control or condoms unless I’m with someone new. You’re safe, Jake, I promise you. I’m not pregnant and you aren’t going to pick up any STDs from me.”

  I couldn’t look at him. I didn’t want to see the pity on his face. If I didn’t see pity, I would see that familiar look of a guy pulling away. Most of the men I had been with wanted children of their own. I was damaged goods, and even if the relationship had been great, it would never progress. Like Blake for example.

  Moments ticked by as I waited for him to say something, but the words never came. He sat there, unmoving. Not exactly how I imagined his response, but I guess it wasn’t all that surprising. I had released him from any obligation. He could fuck me all day, every day and never have to worry about knocking me up. It had to be somewhat freeing, I suppose. It was for me, even if it brought me a little sadness.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jake

  Never had I felt so fucking stupid in my life. Well, once before, but I had been young and dumb then, and chalked up my recklessness to youth. I couldn’t do that now. Damn, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even thought about sl
iding on a condom before I fucked her, and not just once, but every time. I blamed her. My addiction to her body made it impossible for me to think straight.

  “Wait, what did you say?” I asked, my head clearing, and her words sinking in.

  I turned to look at her, waiting for her to look at me. She finally looked up, I could see what looked like fear in her eyes.

  “I can’t have kids,” she whispered.

  “Oh,” I muttered, not sure what else to say.

  I could tell there was a story, but I didn’t know if it was right for me to press her about a topic she was obviously upset about. Along with fear, I could tell the revelation made her a little sad as well. The moment we had shared five minutes ago was long gone. The hot sex almost forgotten. The shadow of whatever was haunting her had filled the room.

  Leaning back, I waited. She would tell me if she wanted to. If not, I wouldn’t press her. It was none of my business anyway. She jumped off the couch and began to pace back and forth, chewing her lip as she did. I had to keep myself from thinking about sex. This was serious, I could feel it.

  “Jake, I need to tell you something,” she said, stopping her pacing.

  “Okay. Tell me.”

  She sat down on the couch again, but not too close to me. She had deliberately put distance between us. I wanted her next to me, but I’d let her have her space for now.

  “I was pregnant.”

  I nodded my head, getting an idea of where the story was going.

  “I got pregnant that night,” she said, looking at me as if she was trying to tell me something I wasn’t understanding.

  I nodded, “Okay.”

  Her eyes got big and she waved her hands between us.

  “What? That night?” I said, horrified.

  “Yes. I got pregnant. I debated about what to do, but then the decision was made for me. I had a miscarriage—at fourteen weeks. Things went badly. The doctor I saw in the emergency room was an idiot. He assumed it was all routine and that I hadn’t been as far along as I had told him. He sent me home. Things got worse and I called my mom. She took me back to the hospital and demanded I see another doctor. Long story short, I ended up having to have a hysterectomy to save my life. That’s why I can never have children,” she said softly.

  I stared at her, unable to form words. My head was spinning in the opposite direction of my churning stomach, and I felt as if I was trapped in some capsule, spiraling out of control and I couldn’t stop it.

  “What?” I repeated, feeling like a fool, but unable to form a coherent sentence. “Pregnant?”

  She gave me a wan smile. “Yes.”

  I shook my head, rejecting the information. “Me? I got you pregnant?”

  Another nod of her head. “Yes.”

  “But,” I opened my mouth and slammed it shut. I hadn’t used a condom. I assumed she had been on the pill and never thought twice about it. Though I thought about her all the time, I never imagined I would have knocked her up.

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted out.

  “It’s okay. Really. Please don’t be sorry.”

  Out of the wild blue, a sudden rage washed over me. I practically flew off the couch and began to pace where she had recently been doing the same.

  “What the fuck?” I roared. “You were pregnant?” I repeated, unable to wrap my head around the idea.

  I felt horrible and hated myself for what I had done to her. I had ruined her life. Another thought popped into my head. What if she hadn’t miscarried? Would she have told me I had a child?

  “Jake, it was an accident. We were both young and a little reckless. Neither of us expected it could happen on our first time.”

  I was shaking with rage. Her words echoed through my mind. It had been my first time. “Our first time? Do you mean our first time together?”

  She shrugged. “Yes, and it was my first time. I was a virgin. I went out that night looking to lose it and you were the guy I chose.”

  Of course, that little tidbit of information made me want to crow like a proud rooster. The hottest chic in the bar had chosen me to take her virginity. No wonder she had no idea it was my first time as well. For two newbies we sure seemed to click well together.

  “I didn’t know that,” I said, apologizing in a way for taking what had willingly been given.

  “I didn’t expect you to know,” she said, as if it wasn’t a big deal. “I don’t think either of us expected anything to happen. I know I didn’t. I guess I assumed I couldn’t possibly get pregnant my first time. My friends had been having unprotected sex for years and none of them had gotten pregnant. I guess I wasn’t so lucky.”

  “That was really your first time?” I asked, not sure I believed her. I knew I had been faking, but she had acted like an experienced lover.

  She shot me a glare. “Yes, it was my first time. Don’t you dare question that,” she warned.

  I ran a hand through my hair, cursing the fates as I did. We had both been virgins that night and fate thought it would be funny to fuck with us. She had paid a high price.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, suddenly furious with her. “If you would have had my kid, would you have even told me? Was I ever going to know I had a kid!” I said, a little too loudly.

  She jumped off the couch, her fury matching my own. “How would you have liked me to reach out, Jake? Should I have called you? Oh, that’s right, I couldn’t! I didn’t know your number. I barely knew your name.”

  I shook my head. “Bullshit! You could have found me.”

  “And then what? You wanted to know I was pregnant even though you were headed off to war? Seriously, Jake, what could you have possibly done back then? It doesn’t matter anyway. You can’t be mad at me for something that happened so long ago. I never had to tell you anything. Be glad I told you at all!” she shouted before stomping into the kitchen.

  I stood there watching as she grabbed the coffee pot, filled it with water and then furiously scooped coffee into the top. I cringed at the amount of coffee she put in. That explained the strong coffee the day before, I thought, my mind briefly drifting away from the argument.

  “You could have told me,” I said, in a much more reasonable tone.

  I flinched when she grabbed the can of coffee off the counter, and had a fleeting image of her throwing it at my head.

  Instead she put it down and put the coffee on the stove. “We need more wood.”

  I looked at her as if she was nuts. We were in the middle of what I thought was far more important than putting wood on the fire. When I didn’t immediately move, she stomped to the door herself and grabbed some wood off the porch in her bare feet.

  “What are you doing?” I growled.

  “Getting wood for the fire, Jake. It’s cold.”

  I pointedly looked at her feet.

  She shrugged. “There’s snow all over this floor, it’s not like it’s any colder on the porch.”

  “I’m not finished,” I argued.

  “I am.”

  I stepped in front of her. “Calla, you were pregnant with my baby.”

  “Yes, Jake, I was. I was eighteen, fresh out of high school, and on my way to college. I found out I was pregnant after a one-night-stand with a man I would never see again. What exactly did you expect me to do? I didn’t even know if you were Army, Navy or what. If you remember right, we both drank a lot that night and there wasn’t a lot of talking. We didn’t exactly share a lot of details about ourselves. I’m not upset about that. It was what I wanted. Just admit that’s the way you wanted it too.”

  I shook my head. “You don’t know shit about me. You have no idea what I wanted.”

  She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms across her chest. “Really? You wanted to date me? You would have married me when you found out I was pregnant?”

  I opened my mouth and then clamped it shut again. “That’s not the point.”

  “Actually, it is exactly the point.”

  “Calla, I just t
hink I had a right to know.”

  “You didn’t. The child was never born, and you had no business knowing anything about me. We were strangers who had a wild night of sex. I owed you nothing. You didn’t owe me anything and quite frankly, I didn’t want anything from you.”

  I wanted to stomp my feet, though I knew I was being ridiculous. She was being completely rational, and it infuriated me even more. I didn’t know whether to scream at the injustice or cry at the loss of a child I never knew existed—even for a brief few weeks.

  “Well, it’s all stupid. It pisses me off,” I grumbled.

  “You’re pissed at me?” she asked, the look on her face should have been a clue I was heading down a dangerous path. I was too stupid to pick up on that clue.

  “Yes, I am. A little,” I clarified.

  Her eyes narrowed, and her chin jutted out. “Good. Be mad. You’re fucking ridiculous. Where’s the mop?”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “I asked where the fucking mop was!” she shouted.

  I pointed to the small closet in the hallway where I kept my cleaning supplies, along with my coats. She spun on her heel, yanked open the door so hard I feared she would pull it off the hinges and rummaged around inside before bringing out the mop.

  “Calla,” I started, wanting to fix what had suddenly broken between us.

  “No! I don’t want to hear your shit.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, the anger that had been lessening fired up again.

  “You heard me. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t believe you. The audacity!”

  That was it. It was all I could take. The woman could make me feel such extreme emotions. I hated it, but loved it. I wanted to fuck her as much as I wanted to scream at her. I was a head case and needed to get away from her. I hated what she had gone through. I hated seeing that sadness in her eyes. I especially hated seeing how rational she could be about the whole damn thing.

  With one last look at the woman holding the mop like it could easily become a weapon, I made the wise decision to get out of the small space. My small cabin wasn’t big enough for both of our tempers. I shoved my feet into my boots and threw on my coat, skipping my snow pants. I had to get away from her and wasn’t worried about the biting cold outside.