His Brother's Baby (Bad Boy Ballers)

by Imani King

  He shrugs.

  I clench my hands, forgetting he is holding one until I hear his sharply drawn breath. “Sorry,”I say, looking at where my nails have curved half-moon marks in his hand.

  “It’s okay.” He rubs his other hand across the top of the hand he is holding. “Just tell me. You’ll feel much better.”

  A tear slides down my cheek, despite my resolve not to cry. This is a thousand times more difficult than I had imagined. His concern just makes it harder for me to tell him. “I’m Tamara’s mother,” I finally force out through clenched teeth. I stiffen, bracing myself for his reaction.

  “I know.”

  I forget how to breathe when he replies so calmly. I stare up at him with eyes widening nearly to the point of rupture. A ragged breath finally tears free of my chest, and I sag. “You know?”

  “Yeah.” He looks as calm as he sounds, and he continues to stroke his fingers across my hand.

  “But, how? When?”

  Jackson sighs. “I’d like to say I was so observant I noticed immediately, but that’s not true.”

  “Your mother knew the same day,” I whisper.

  He nods. “After I figured it out, I knew she must have realized at some point too.”

  “When did you figure it out?”

  Jackson puts his arm around me, pulling me closer. “I had a few clues, of course. She looks just like you.”

  “Yes.” Cautiously, I lay my head on his chest. I still half-expect for him to push me away and throw me off the ranch.

  He shakes his head. “Strangers noticed it before I did. That made me feel really observant.”

  “But, when did you figure it out?” I ask in an exasperated tone.

  Jackson chuckles. “When we took Tamara to the doctor. You were so concerned. You said she was your whole world. Then the doctor remarked on the resemblance. You were so adamant about her not getting the shots, and it suddenly clicked.”

  I frown, remembering that day, and how he had gone quiet. I had dismissed it as concern for the baby at the time. “Why didn’t you say something?”

  He stood up, releasing me. “I wanted to understand what had happened. The person you were didn’t seem at all like the girl Brad described.” He walks to the bedside table and uses a small key to unlock the drawer. Jackson lifts out a manila file and tosses it on the bed beside me. “I didn’t want to confront you until I knew everything. When I did, I couldn’t say anything.”

  With trembling hands, I open the file. The words “Davis, Shawna” jump out at me from the first page. “Why not?” I ask in a husky voice.

  “Because I owed you an apology. My whole damn family owes you, Shawna.”

  I blink at the anguish in his tone. “I don’t understand.”

  “He stole your child, and I helped him.” Jackson paces around the room, his anger emanating from him in waves. “I swallowed Brad’s story without a thought. I didn’t check anything. If I had, you would have had your baby back weeks ago.”

  My head begins to pound. “I’m confused.”

  Jackson stops pacing and turns toward me. “When I read your file, I knew you weren’t the girl he made you out to be. You didn’t deserve to be separated from Tamara. God help me, I knew last week and didn’t say anything.”

  I stand up and walk to him, leaving the folder on the bed. “Why not?”

  He seems to be battling with himself. He holds himself stiffly, with his hands balled into fists at his sides. Then, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me. The kiss is passionate and searing, as if he is branding me. When he lifts his head, we are both out of breath. “I love both of you too much to let you go. I don’t care if you’re only marrying me to get her back. I’ll take you any way I can get you. I need both of you.”

  My mouth falls open. “That’s not why—” I wrap my arms around his neck. “I came to the ranch with some half-baked thought of kidnapping Tamara. Thank God your mother stopped me.” I sigh. “I prodded you into proposing again because I was afraid Brad would return when he saw the article. I didn’t want to lose Tamara, but I didn’t want to lose you either. I love your family and the ranch.” I cup his cheeks in my hands. “I love you, Jackson.”

  The painful ball I have carried in my stomach for more than a year unfurled when I said the words. My last traces of fear melt away, to be replaced by confidence in the future. “I love you,” I say again, enjoying the feeling of the words on my tongue, and the look of joy on my face. “If you still want me, I can’t wait to be your wife.”

  He nods and crushes my body against his. “Of course I want you,” he says into my hair. “I love you.”

  My hands slide from his face to the collar of his shirt. I undo the button and untie the knot of the tie to pull it off. I flick open two more buttons before Jackson’s hand stops me. I look up at him.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Making love to you,” I whisper. I felt shy, but eager. I didn’t want to wait four more days for their ceremony.

  He hesitates, appearing to be on the verge of sending me away.

  I stand on my tiptoes and press my mouth to his. I smile when I feel his posture relax and his hand fall away. I continue to unbutton the shirt until I reach the waistband of his slacks. I pull the shirt out, undo the last two buttons, and push it off his arms.

  When he stands naked from the waist up, I bury my face in his neck. Once I take off my high heels, I won’t be able to nip the bend of his neck, so I take advantage of the moment. I hear his groan when I suck on his neck. I giggle and slide my tongue down his neck, across his chest, to one of his nipples. I can feel his erection jerk when I flick my tongue across the peak.

  “Shawna.” His voice is a cross between a growl and purr.

  I lift my head, striving to sound innocent. “Yes?”

  “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

  I don’t protest when he spins me around and unzips the dress. I don’t bother to ask him to hang it up when he strips it off me. I can sense his impatience, which reflects mine. I turn back in his arms and fumble with his belt. When I unbuckle the leather strap, I pull it from his pants an inch at a time, enjoying teasing him.

  Then I unzip the trousers and kneel to push them to the floor. I stop when my eyes become level with his underwear. I burst out laughing and fall on my butt. I continue to giggle as he steps out of the pants and lifts me into his arms.

  “Mom thought they were funny,” he says as he lays me on the bed.

  I continue to laugh, struggling to catch my breath. I look up as he straddles me. His cheeks are a fiery red.

  “The boxers were a gag gift, but I liked them.”

  I stroke the silk boxers, giggling at the foil snowflakes and snowmen decorating them. One particular flake—bulging outward—caught my attention, and I stroked it firmly.

  “They seemed appropriate,” he forces out through gritted teeth as I continue to touch him.

  I manage to draw in a deep breath. “Very.” I bite back another giggle as he slides the straps of the slip down my shoulders. “Sorry I didn’t wear my reindeer bra.” I can’t stifle another round of laughter.

  Jackson shakes his head, but doesn’t respond. Instead, he buries his face in the hollow between my breasts and inhales. His deep groan vibrates through my chest. “I love the spicy scent of you. You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to do this.” I tremble when he peels down the lacy cups of the slip, moving his mouth to kiss one of my breasts. Still, I can’t stop laughing. He is too adorable in the boxers.

  My giggles immediately cut off when Jackson flicks his tongue across my nipple. When he bites me lightly, I moan. It feels so good to have his mouth on me. I am eager to touch him, and I put my hands on his shoulders. His other hand moves down to pull up the slip, and I bend my knees to allow him to push it higher up my legs. He slides his hand underneath the slip, and I draw in a ragged breath.

  I wriggle against his hands and mouth, while running my hands through his hair, across his f
ace, and over his back. I cup his buttocks when he lifts me off the bed enough to raise the slip past my hips. I wrap my legs around him and tilt my hips. He doesn’t ignore the invitation. I groan when his thumb slides along the edge of the white panties, caressing my swollen folds.

  I lower my legs and sit up as much as I can to remove the slip. Then I wrap my arms around his waist and press my breasts to his chest. The soft hairs rub against my nipples, making me shift restlessly.

  “I wanted the first time to last all night,” he says against my ear before he kisses my neck.

  “I can’t wait all night,” I say, panting. “I want you now, Jackson.”

  He pulls away long enough to shed the Christmas boxers and take protection from the bedside table before rejoining me on the bed. I don’t protest when Jackson pushes my knees apart and settles between my thighs. He pushes damp hair off of my face. “Are you all right?” His expression is full of tender concern.

  I bite my lip and nod. It has been more than a year since I was intimate with a man, and I wait for memories of my last night with Brad to sweep through me. I feel a vague stirring of fear, but desire for Jackson easily overwhelms it. When he slips his hand inside my panties to explore my slick folds, I moan. The memory is exorcised.

  Jackson lifts my hips and pushes the lacy briefs down my legs. He tosses them behind his back and repositions himself between my spread thighs. I part my thighs as he tests my readiness. I know he finds me slick and waiting. I watch with coiled excitement as he rips open the foil packet and deals with the condom. He gathers me in his arms and looks down at me. I can’t wait another minute to feel him inside of me. When he pauses before taking me, waiting for my confirmation, I nod without qualms. I arch my hips and take him inside with one smooth thrust, smiling when I heard him gasp. My eyes widen with surprise at the length of him.

  He doesn’t move. “Are you in pain?”

  I shake my head, incapable of speech. For an answer, I thrust against him again, and then once more, until he picks up on my rhythm and takes over. I tilt my head back and dig my heels into the mattress as he continues to thrust into me. Brad’s face pops into my mind just once, but it has lost the mingled anger and pleasure that haunted me for months. I force his blurry image from my mind and focus on Jackson. A climax washes over me in shattering waves. He follows in seconds, and we cling to each other.

  Slowly, I become aware of my surroundings again. My breathing returns to normal, but my heart continues to pound in time with his for several minutes. I press my ear against his chest, listening as his heart rate slows gradually. We don’t speak for several long minutes.

  He finally withdraws from me and rolls over onto his side, cuddling me against his chest. “How was it?”

  I smile and snuggle closer. There are no words to tell him how incredible it had been, but I know he needs to hear something. “When can we do it again?”

  Jackson laughs and kisses the top of my head. “Give me a few minutes.”

  37

  Shawna

  We awaken in each other’s arms. I’m confused about my surroundings until he stretches beside me. I smile at him and snuggle closer. “It wasn’t just a dream.”

  “No.” Jackson runs a hand through my hair. “It was real.”

  I stretch and wince. “My overused muscles tell me it was,” I agreed. I sit up, moving slowly so I can adjust to the various aches and kinks in my body.

  “A hot bath will loosen that tension,” Jackson says as he slides from bed. He lifts me into his arms and carries me into the bathroom, where he set me on the bathroom rug.

  I shake my head. “You’re certainly pleased with yourself.”

  He rubs his chest. “Of course. You pleased me.”

  A mischievous grin teases her lips. “Would you like me to again?”

  Jackson shakes his head and sighs. “I would love for you to, but everyone will be downstairs for breakfast soon. Lindsay’s dad will be here at nine. When she leaves, we lose our babysitter. There’s no time right now.”

  I sigh too. “Tonight, I guess.”

  He suddenly frowns. “What happened to your face?”

  I try ducking my head so he can’t see my jaw. “Nothing.”

  “Shawna.”

  I lick my lips. “Brad came by my room to reminisce last night.” I step closer to hug him. “You have impeccable timing, my love.”

  Anger pours from him in waves. “Brad’s out of here this morning.”

  I don’t argue with Jackson. I hate to see the brothers part because of me, but I don’t want him in my life. I don’t trust Jackson’s brother and never will. The farther he is from our family, the better for us all.

  Breakfast is a tense affair. Brad’s hot glare alternates between me and Jackson, as if he knows exactly what we had done all night. It is probably Lindsay’s presence that keeps him restrained at all. When her father honks his horn promptly at nine, she collects two bills from Jackson and hurries from the house, taking any semblance of peace with her.

  Lillian immediately stands up and lifts Tamara from the high chair. “I’ll take her upstairs,” she whispers to me. “She doesn’t need to be here for this.” She has worn a frown since coming down and seeing Brad. Now, she allows a hint of anger to show. Her gaze settles on Shawna’s bruise. “Bastard,” she mutters as she and the baby leave the room.

  The ticking of the clock seems like an explosion in the sudden silence. Brad’s smile is cold when he meets my eyes. “Tamara sure is growing, isn’t she?”

  I nod.

  He turns to Jackson with an unpleasant smirk. “Don’t you think Shawna and I made a beautiful baby together, bro?” He seems to be seconds away from laughing as he awaits Jackson’s response.

  Jackson shrugs. “I hope Tamara didn’t get anything from you except a few genes.”

  Brad frowns. “Don’t you understand? Shawna is the brat’s mother. She used to live with me.”

  “I know.” He pushes his plate away and takes my hand. “Thank goodness she came to her senses and moved out.”

  His mouth drops open, and he turns an accusing look on me. “You let me believe he didn’t know.”

  I shake my head. “I told you he knew. Jackson’s known for a while. He doesn’t care.” I put my other hand on his thigh. “He loves me as much as I love him. You can’t do anything about that.”

  Brad’s face turns red, and his eyes darken. “Want to bet? I can take your kid so fast your head spins.”

  “You signed a paper,” Jackson says.

  “A temporary custody agreement.” Brad shakes his head, and his voice drips mock concern. “I couldn’t leave her with you when I found out you had let this woman back in her life.” His mouth twists. “A judge already decided she isn’t a fit mother.”

  Jackson shrugs. “You could go through all that and drag us to court. You could make me get a team of attorneys to refute your claims and dismiss that judge’s rulings, but that’s fine. I plan to anyway, so Shawna won’t have any restrictions on custody of Tamara. It’s up to you, and how much you’re willing to endure. I’m perfectly content to fight just the ruling, or fight you and the idiot judge who swallowed your lies.”

  Brad falters. “What?”

  “Once I knew you lied about Shawna, I got curious.” Jackson leans back in his chair, appearing as comfortable as if they were discussing the weather. “I had someone look into your background. I know about the arrests in Panama, Beijing, and Singapore. I know about the dismissed charges in Bangkok. Assault and battery in all the cases. Also sexual coercion in the Bangkok case, right? I don’t know if those girls will testify, but I’m sure I can get the arrests brought to light. Maybe even the dismissal if I hire a crafty attorney. The incidences are relevant to your character and ability to raise a child.”

  His face turns white as he listens. “You wait—” “No, you wait, bro,” Jackson says sarcastically. “The investigation firm I hired has only been looking a few days. I’m sure they’ll dig up all kin
ds of information about you. Jordan tells me there are several interesting incidents he’s waiting to confirm after the holidays.”

  Brad pushes away from the table so hard his chair clatters to the floor. “Are you going to fall for this, Shawna? Do you really think Jackson can save you from losing Tamara with this smokescreen? It’s obvious what kind of woman you are. You’re just like your mother. Are you going to make me prove that again?”

  I flinch at the mention of my mother. “How did you know?”

  He laughs. “I wanted to know everything about you when we first met. When I found out about your background, I figured the best way to approach you was to woo you as if you were a timid virgin. I thought the novelty would intrigue a slut.” He laughs again, a harsh, grating sound. “Imagine my shock when you turned out to really be a virgin.”

  Jackson’s spine straightens. “That’s enough. Leave now, and I’ll call off Jordan.”

  “You don’t scare me.” Brad doesn’t take his baleful gaze from me. “You have a choice here. Let Jackson keep the kid for now and come with me. We’ll send for her later.” He blinks, betraying his lie. “If you don’t, you’ll lose her. You might have him in the end, but is he worth your precious brat?”

  I bite my lip, swinging my gaze back and forth between the two of them. I see calm assurance in Jackson’s eyes and unease in Brad’s. I take a deep breath and put my arm around Jackson’s waist. “I belong with Jackson. You won’t get our baby.”

  Jackson’s voice comes out cool and collected. “Just let it go, Brad. You don’t want Tamara, and you don’t really want Shawna. You just don’t want anyone else to have her. Think of someone other than yourself for a change. Tami belongs with us. You’ll hurt everyone if you keep at this. You remember what happened with the pony, don’t you?”

  Brad seems to deflate right before our eyes. He goes an even paler shade of white. “Fine. You win.” His complexion makes his eyes burn more darkly in his face. He sounds calm when he speaks, but his trembling hands betray him. He draws himself up straight. “I can see you’ve both made your choice.” He walks past us, pausing for a second before me. His usual arrogance is already beginning to return. “I hope you can live with it.” Then he leaves the kitchen to return to his room.