I watch his face relax a bit.
“I’m getting you out of here,” he growls.
I know he is. I can’t believe he’s here, whoever he is.
“Untie her,” he grinds out.
“Knife’s right there, shitface Do it your-fucking-self,” Eric sneers from his position on the floor with handcuffs wrapped round his wrists.
The kind stranger looks down at my leg, and his face twists in rage. The need to calm him rushes through me, and I just take deep breaths, trying not to cry or scream, trying to keep calm for all of us.
“I’m Detective Tate, and backup will be here any second,” he whispers as he begins to untie me.
He slowly takes the knife from my leg. Agonizing pain shoots throughout my body. He cuts the plastic ties binding me to the chair, and then he lifts my body and runs like hell. Minutes later, a SWAT team rushes inside. I wonder how much of an idiot Eric truly is.
Did he not think that Jarrod would contact the police?
There are police officers everywhere as well as fire trucks and ambulances. Detective Tate sets me down in the nearest one before he turns to walk away. I grasp at his arm and keep him next to me, my body shaking in fear.
“He can’t see me like this,” I whisper right before I close my eyes and darkness once again invades me. My body needs the rest. I’ve lost blood, and I’ve been hit and kicked and almost but not quite raped.
I awake what seems like minutes later, and I hear distant beeps in the background. I feel something heavy on my arm and chance cracking my eyes open. The room is dark, and I see Jarrod’s dark blond head of hair. I try to shift, but I feel pain shooting through my body. I still myself. The pain is too much. I just know that I have lost the baby. There is no way it could have survived with my body being in this much pain. I can’t help the tears that start streaming down my cheeks, and I feel Jarrod stir but I don’t care. All I can think about is the fact that I know I have lost my little baby.
“Shh…baby, please calm down,” Jarrod coos, wiping the tears from my cheeks.
I can’t calm down. I want to go back to a few days ago when I was just scared about telling Jarrod I was pregnant. I don’t want to be here. I want this to all be a bad nightmare.
“Ba-ba-baby,” I finally sputter.
I feel Jarrod’s lips on my forehead, and his nose slides along my jaw.
His lips move to my ear. “The baby is perfectly fine. Everything is fine. You’re a bit banged up, baby, but you’re fine,” he whispers.
A fresh wave of tears and body-racking sobs commence.
“Calm down, my love,” Jarrod whispers, his voice even and calm.
His hands run up and down my arms, the only part of my body that doesn’t ache. He must know where I have been injured.
“It is?” I ask once I have calmed down a bit.
“Yeah, our new bundle will be arriving sometime in March, my sweet girl,” he says, leaning back in his chair to look me in the eyes.
“Eric?”
“In jail with no bail, and if I have anything to do with it, he’ll be there a fuck of a long time for daring to touch what’s mine,” Jarrod grinds out.
If I weren’t in so much pain, I would laugh at his jealousy.
“Thank God,” I whisper. I close my eyes, falling asleep again, but this time, it is peaceful.
I have my baby, I have the love of a good man, and nothing will get me down.
Three Weeks Later
Jarrod’s parents haven’t left our sides for three weeks, and as much as I love them, it’s time for them to go.
Once the doctor determined I was fine, just banged up a bit, he sent me home. Maya and Ashton Senior were a mess about the whole situation. Maya wanted to take care of me, and as much as I wanted it to just be Jarrod and me, I had to admit that it was nice to have her mother me for a while.
But now, it is time for everyone to go home because I’m feeling better, and I want Jarrod inside me. I’m not sure that can happen with his parents staying in our apartment.
We are lying in bed on one Sunday morning, three full weeks after the kidnapping. I am wearing a pair of sleep shorts and a tank top. I slowly roll over from my side of the bed and plaster myself to Jarrod’s muscled hard side. I start kissing his rock-hard massive chest, leaving small kisses all the way up to his ear.
“Baby, you can’t do that shit,” he whispers gruffly, tired with sleep.
“I want you inside me,” I whisper unabashedly.
“Baby,” he groans, carefully pulling me on top of him.
My legs automatically straddle his waist, and I slowly grind on his hard length.
I lean down and whisper in his ear the phrase I know for sure will get me what I want, “Your pussy wants you.”
“Fuck,” he groans.
He slides his boxer briefs down just enough to free himself. I don’t bother taking my shorts off. I just move them to the side and grab his length, guiding him inside me, sinking down on his massive length.
I begin to move slowly, favoring my still bruised and achy ribs. Jarrod’s hands are on my hips, ever so lightly helping me move, supporting me, like he always has from day one. I slide my hands up my stomach to cup my breasts, and I slowly rise and grind down on him. I pinch my nipples and notice the intensity in which he’s watching me. There is a sheen of sweat on his face, and his jaw is clenched. I know he wants to take me hard and fast, just how we both love it, but he can’t, not yet at least.
“Fuck me, Amalie. Just fuck,” he growls.
I pull on my taut nipples, throwing my head back, moaning at the feel of the slight pain mixed with the massive amounts of pleasure from his cock.
“Missed my pussy, baby,” he whispers as one hand begins to roughly rub my clit.
He’s bringing me close to the edge of orgasm. I begin to pump up and down on top of him a little harder as he surges inside me, and together, we release our voices in silent awe, stilling in pleasure. I slowly lower my chest onto his and try to catch my breath, trying not to breathe too deeply.
“Missed my cock,” I say, giggling.
In the kitchen, I can hear his mother moving pots and pans around, making noise, which means she probably heard us.
“I’m sending them home ASAP,” he says, thrusting his hips up, rubbing against my sensitive clit.
I groan into his chest.
“Can’t wait until you can take me hard again, sweet,” I say.
My body relaxes into his, but he can take it. He always takes whatever I give him—the good, the bad, and the ugly.
“Not until after the baby is born,” he says, pulling out of me.
I sit up too quickly and wince at the pain but continue to just look at him. “Why?” I ask, pouting like a kid. I don’t even care.
I love the way he fucks me, hard and unapologetically, throwing me around like I weigh twenty pounds and am five feet tall instead of six feet tall.
“The baby. I don’t want to hurt him.”
I growl, grabbing his cheeks. “What have I told you? You will not hurt the baby by fucking me. You will hurt my feelings if you don’t fuck me the way I need to be fucked, Jarrod. I love you, and I love the way you take me. I love the way you punish my body with your cock. Don’t you dare take that away from me.” I crash my lips to his in a hard kiss.
“Fine. You want me to fuck you? That’s fine. Get on your knees. I’m going to fuck my sweet mouth,” he growls.
I swear, I feel my whole body erupt in lust as I sink down to my knees.
I take Jarrod in my mouth, licking and sucking his cock like it’s the best dessert I have ever tasted and truth be told it is. Jarrod’s hands are fisted in my hair, pulling the strands, guiding me into him at the speed and angle he wants. He stills my head. I feel his length grow even harder, and I know he’s getting close. He begins to roughly pump in and out of my mouth, fucking my mouth just like he promised. I feel his cum slide down the back of my throat when his body stills, and his hands grip my hair e
ven tighter.
“Baby,” he groans.
I lick his cock and stand before placing a small soft kiss on his chest.
“Now, when my ribs are better, I expect to be fucked good and hard. Of course, you’ll have to send your parents home first because I plan on screaming your name.” I grin and walk into the bathroom to shower and dress for the day.
I can hear Jarrod laughing behind me the entire time.
God, but I love that man.
Jarrod’s parents leave two days later, only because we promised to visit them in the next three weeks. This is usually Jarrod’s time at home anyway, so he was planning on making his way to Kentucky.
We are lying on the couch, enjoying the peace and quiet of the apartment, when the phone rings.
“Yeah? Fuck. Serious? All right. C’mon up.” He sighs.
I look over at him. He doesn’t look mad or upset really.
“The girls are here to see you, baby,” he whispers, placing his hand on my slightly round belly.
“Really?” I haven’t had any visitors, except for his parents, and I am dying for some girl talk.
“Go put some pants on and cover up your tits. The guys are here, too.”
I look down. Although my tank top is a little low-cut, it isn’t that bad, and my shorts cover everything that needs to be covered. I look up and begin to argue when I see the look in his eyes. He isn’t fucking around. He’s serious. He doesn’t want the guys ogling my body, married or not. I decide against arguing and just softly kiss his lips. I walk into the bedroom to change when I hear the bell ring.
When I emerge from the bedroom, Libby, Victoria, and Maggie rush toward me and throw their arms around me in hugs.
“Girls, step the fuck back!” Jarrod yells.
They all still and turn to look at him. I’m sure if I saw their faces, I would see a mixture of shock and horror.
“Jarrod…” I admonish.
“Your ribs are fucked up. Calm your hyena asses down!” he hollers before slipping out onto the balcony with the guys.
I watch as each girl slowly turns to look at me, and I am shocked to see that all three of them are smiling like smiling fools.
“What?” I ask, looking between them.
“He cares about you. Fuck me, Jarrod cares about his baby mama,” Libby says, giggling to herself.
“He loves me,” I admit.
They all look at me with big eyes.
“I knew he did the moment I saw him look at you,” Maggie admits softly.
I still don’t know much about Maggie because she is so quiet, but I like her. She is observant, and I think she complements Sammy well in that way. He couldn’t have another loud person with him. She grounds him. At least, I hope that’s the way their relationship is. I’m still not convinced that everything is happy and harmonious once their doors are closed.
“I’ve never been so happy,” I say.
They all hug me but much more gingerly this time. I am happy—not only because Jarrod loves me and cares for me, but also because of our baby and the way he cares about him before he’s even arrived. We’ve both decided he’s a boy. Until we know for sure, we don’t like calling him an it. It just seems demeaning.
“Fuck, I need cocktails. Sorry, girl,” Libby says as we all walk toward the kitchen.
They all ask me when we’re getting married, but after the World Series, the baby announcement, and the Eric situation, Jarrod and I haven’t really discussed marriage. I want to marry Jarrod. I would love nothing more than to be Mrs. Harrison, but I don’t want him to marry me because he thinks he has to. He doesn’t. I’ll always be here with him—being by his side, raising our baby the best I can, being a real family, which is something I never thought we would have.
The girls get plastered, and I laugh more than I have in months. It feels good. It feels right. Jarrod and the guys also have a good time. They are all drinking beers and smoking cigars out on the balcony as we watch their tight asses leaning over the banister.
“Jesus, but we are some lucky bitches,” Libby states before taking another drink of her wine.
“That we are,” I agree, rubbing my little baby belly. There isn’t much there, but it makes me feel connected just by touching it.
“Maybe if I get drunk enough, I’ll be able to ride Carlos’s face tonight,” Victoria says almost wistfully.
“He doesn’t let you do that?” Libby asks, looking shocked and almost pissed off.
“He loves it, but I don’t like it. If I get drunk enough, then I think I can.”
We all just look at her in shock.
“Honey, down that, go home, and ride your man’s face until you suffocate him,” I say.
All three girls turn to look at me and burst out into a fit of giggles.
“I think Amalie is a kinky dirty girl.” Maggie giggles, her sweet little voice making us all smile widely at her.
Then, I join in on the laughter because they really have no clue.
The evening ends fairly soon after our talk of riding our men’s faces, and by the time everyone goes, I am beyond horny. Jarrod wraps his arms around me, and I turn out of his grasp. I take his hand, pulling him toward the bedroom with ferocity.
“There a fire, baby?” Jarrod asks, chuckling behind me.
I can’t seem to think past sitting on the man’s face. I should have never participated or listened to those girls converse about sex. Maybe it’s the new hormones rushing through my body but probably not. Pregnant, hurt, or healthy, all of a sudden, riding Jarrod’s face is my number one priority.
“On the bed,” I order.
I watch in fascination as Jarrod’s eyes sparkle in delight. I slowly begin to unbutton the shirtdress I threw on earlier, and I am standing in just my bra, panties, and peep-toe high heels.
“Smuk,” Jarrod growls deeply.
I can almost feel his voice vibrating through the room, and it makes the heat pool between my legs. Jarrod quickly rips the clothes off his body and gets on the bed at my order. He is indulging me in the moment, and I’ll take whatever I can get because the man is so fucking sexy.
I finish stripping off my panties, bra, and shoes, and I climb on the bed. I crawl up his hard body. His hands slide up my thighs, but I don’t stop, not until I am grasping on to the headboard and my core is in line with his beautiful mouth. He chuckles softly underneath me, and I can feel his warm breath on my pussy.
“My pussy want something, baby?” he asks.
“My pussy needs your mouth,” I say, slowly lowering down on his face.
His hands cup my ass before he starts eating me like a starving man with a whole chocolate cake presented just for him. It doesn’t take long of him eating, pulling, biting, and licking me before I’m coming all over his face. I scream with pleasure, chanting his name over and over again. Jarrod gently flips me on my back, surges inside my pussy, slamming into me, hard and delicious as his holds his upper body away from me.
My ribs are still sore and achy, but I don’t care. This is what my body has been craving, needing it more than I even realized was possible. He comes deep inside me, letting his cock twitch inside me, filling me with his cum. His face is buried in my neck, his breath panting hard, his body shuddering on top of me. As if he’s remembered something, he immediately rolls, pulling me down on his chest. It’s as if he knew that my ribs were still aching from his weight pressing against me.
“Marry me, baby. Be my wife,” he whispers, stroking my hair.
I raise my foggy head and look into his eyes.
“What?” I ask, not sure I heard him right.
“When we go to Kentucky in three weeks, be my wife. Marry me, baby. Let me make an honest woman out of you. I love you so much.”
I can’t help it. The tears begin to flow down my cheeks, and I nod ferociously. It isn’t the most romantic proposal on earth, but it is pure Jarrod, impulsive and perfect.
I can’t believe going out to a club just a few short months ago led me to t
his man, this wonderful, beautiful man. I have never truly been happy, not really, because I now know what true happiness is. True happiness is being here with this man, having his baby grow inside of me, and him asking me to spend forever with him by his side.
“Nothing could ever make me happier, sweet. I love you so much.” I lean down and take his mouth with mine, kissing him with every ounce of love I feel for him.
We fall asleep hours later with Jarrod buried deep inside me, and I know that my life will only get better from here on out with this man at my side—his beautiful mind, body, and soul mine forever. I dream of all the beauty we will share—me sitting in the audience, watching him pitch game after game, his baby in my arms as he winks at us from the pitcher’s mound, pitching for us, protecting us, and loving us.
Three Weeks Later
Jarrod
I am standing at the altar, waiting for the most beautiful girl in the world to walk toward me in white. I know she will be absolutely gorgeous. I might even catch a glance at her slightly round belly. Just knowing my baby is growing inside of her makes me want to cry and fall to my knees with pure joy. I still want to keep her by my side twenty-four hours a day since that fucking bastard took her and hurt her. I will never forget the panic and the pure devastation I felt at almost losing my beautiful Amalie.
“Hey, brother. Watch your girl.” Ashton nudges me.
I look up and have to catch my breath. Amalie is walking down the aisle, her arm interlaced with my father’s. We invited her parents and brother to the ceremony, and though her parents declined, Niklas is sitting right in front, watching his twin walk toward me.
He apologized to me this morning. Apparently, he didn’t really know how insane or how abusive Eric was, and Niklas felt extremely guilty for not listening to his sister and not protecting her. He will never be my favorite person, but he is Amalie’s brother, and I will not deny her family. I will not deny her anything, and as long as he is respectful of her, he is welcome in my home and in her life.
Amalie makes her way toward me. Her snowy-blonde hair is curled with soft waves and down, just how I like it. Her makeup is sparse, and her lips have just a light sheen to them. She looks gorgeous. Her pale skin is glowing with her pregnancy. She has never looked more beautiful. Her dress is lace and dips down too low in the front, showing way too much of her bountiful breasts off to the world. It is tight and covered in lace all the way down to the ground where it flares out a bit. She decided not to wear a veil, and I’m thankful because I will be able to sink my fingers into her beautiful hair when we dance without one.
Pitching for Amalie Page 21
