Prince's Secret Baby

by Riley Rollins

  Fucking perfect. That'll work.

  The thug standing over Tess turns to face me, and I scan her face and body. I don't see any blood or bruises, thank God. Now I'm going to finish this job.

  I draw the splintered bat back like a sword, then plunge the splintered end into the man's stomach. It pierces him fully. He drops his bat, clutching his stomach, blood running out of his mouth. He gasps for air, and I just twist the bat and jam it in until his feet give out from under him and he slides down in a slaughtered heap.

  "Tess," I exclaim, and I rush to her side. I wipe my hands on my jeans, and then put my hands on her just as fast as I can. "Are you hurt? Is the baby hurt?"

  She replies, her voice shaky. "I'm fine. Thank God you came. They said they were going to kill me. They said it was a parting gift from the mayor."

  I bristle with anger. "I fucking knew it. That motherfucker is dead," I say.

  "Call the cops," says Tess. "Oh my god, you're bleeding."

  That's the last thing I hear before I fall unconscious.

  6 Months Later

  I roll up my cuffs and adjust the collar on my tux. Tess slips her hand into the crook of my elbow and we step into the ballroom.

  It's the first annual Maple Ridge town social, held here at the town's brand new hotel. Over the last few months the Rainbow Café has brought so many visitors and so much new business to the town that an investor stepped in and funded a new hotel and a new public park project. More business are opening every day, and Maple Ridge is starting to show up on lists of "best small towns to live in."

  And Mayor Wilkinson is behind bars, being charged for three counts of attempted murder.

  "You're the most handsome mayor I've ever seen," whispers Tess into my ear.

  "Does that make you royalty?"

  "You wish you were a prince."

  "You mean I don't get a crown?"

  Tess smacks me on the arm. "You need to take this job seriously."

  I rub my arm. She hits soft but she hits often, and always in the exact same damn spot. The bruise is starting to build up. "I am," I say. "The town's already doing better than it ever did before. Thanks to me."

  Tess rolls her eyes. Whatever.

  We dance the night away. I'm not usually one for fucking ballroom dancing, but once I've got a solid bottle of champagne in me, it becomes a lot more tolerable. We're the center of attention the entire night, not to mention the best dressed. Everyone wants to get to know the new mayor and his bride. A dozen people congratulate us belatedly on our marriage and pregnancy, and we grin to each other each time they do. Nobody knows that it was a fake marriage turned real.

  Then I see something that makes me proud. Jason finally has Crystal on his arm. "Damn," I say to Tess, "look at that girl 'miring."

  "Good job, you pussy," I call out to Jason. Tess pinches me on the ass, hard this time, out of view from Jason. I flinch and a wave of cold sweat flickers over my body. "Just joking," I call out. "Fuck, that hurt."

  After we've had enough of the dance, Tess and I sneak out on a back patio. The sky is clear tonight and the stars shine bright. I polish off my champagne. Tess sips her non-alcoholic ginger ale and pats her belly.

  I fish around in my pocket, and I feel it. I close my fist around it.

  "Tess," I say. "I love you." Three words that I've never said to a woman before.

  Her eyes well up with tears, and that's when I drop onto one knee. I pull it out of my pocket. The diamond engagement ring that her father gave to her mother. "Will you marry me?"

  Tess's eyes shine bright in the moonlight. "Fake marry you?"

  "Real marry me," I say.

  "Yes," she says, "of course I will." A single tear of joy falls down her cheek as I slip the ring on her finger.

  I stand up and wrap her in my arms, feeling our growing baby between us. And I know I'm exactly where I should be.

  25

  Tess

  "Oh my god," I gasp.

  Hunter's stubble brushes against my thigh and his tongue flicks over my clit. My legs twitch as he tastes the most intimate part of me.

  "I fucking need you now," I say.

  He kisses my stomach, my breasts, my chin, and finally my lips. I bite his lip hungrily and I taste myself on him. I never thought I'd want to try that, but with him, I feel completely free. I know that he'll never judge me, and if I think it's hot, he'll think it's even hotter.

  His hard cock slides against my slit. I'm so wet for him, and I feel so empty without him inside me. "Please," I whisper. "Put it in."

  He fills me up, stretches me for him, and I gasp as he slips all the way in. "Oh my fucking god," I say. "You feel so fucking good."

  My breasts ache for his touch, and he indulges me. Fully. He brushes his cheeks over my nipples, then takes each one in his mouth in turn, one after another, gently biting and licking them until they harden.

  "You're my fuck toy," he breathes in my ear as he thrusts in and out. "Your pussy was built for my pleasure. It's all fucking mine. For now and forever."

  I buck my hips to meet his thrusts. They go deeper than I've ever felt, and I can't help myself. My fingers find my clit, and I rub myself with the rhythm of his fucking.

  "You—fuck—me—so—good," I breathe, and I use my fingers to hold myself open wider for him. I love the way his cock feels slipping between my fingers. I love knowing the pleasure I give him. I don't want it to ever stop.

  "Oh, fuck," he says, and he pulls out for an instant. "God," I say, "put it back, I need you in me."

  His body is so fucking perfect. I could get lost in those strong arms, those broad shoulders, that tight stomach.

  He squeezes his eyes shut tight, and a couple drops of pre-cum drip out of his cock onto my belly. "Fuck," he says, "I almost lost control."

  "I wish you would," I say. I run a finger over the droplets and bring it to my mouth, savoring his taste.

  "You are so fucking sexy," he says. I feel him enter me again and start to thrust. Fuck. Now I'm getting close.

  "Fuck me from behind," I say. I grip his wonderful, thick cock and slide it out of me. I flip over onto all fours, to get my pregnant belly out of the way. Then he enters me again, and the pleasure starts building again.

  "Oh, yes," I gasp. His thumb presses against my ass, and it makes me feel so fucking dirty for him. It makes me want to push back even harder against him, to let him fill me up as much as he fucking can. I want everything he has to give me.

  "Fuck me harder," I say, and I start rubbing my clit again. I hope he can feel me doing it. I want to be his little fucking slut and make all of his dirtiest dreams come true.

  "I'm gonna cum," he says.

  "Oh god, me too," I say.

  He pounds into me, and when he groans his pleasure, it's the hottest sound I've ever heard. The flood of warmth inside me sends me over the edge, and a chain reaction explodes throughout my body, from my core, all the way to my fingers and toes.

  When we come down from our orgasms, he doesn't pull out of me. I reach back and find his thick head of hair with my fingers, and pull him in closer to me, collapsing onto my side. His cock slips out and I feel his warmth run out of me, but I don't care. I want his everything. In me, and on me. I don't fucking care.

  "God damn," he says, "you are one fucking sexy little animal."

  I turn my head and catch a kiss from the edges of his lips. "I need more," I say. "Please."

  His cock hardens again against my ass, almost instantly. I love his energy.

  He lays me on my back again and slips his cock inside me. It feels so much wetter and more slippery now that he already finished inside me once. I fucking love it.

  He pounds in and out of me, hitting exactly the right spot, and I feel another orgasm building inside me. He seems to tap into my sexual energy, because he says, "I don't think I'm gonna be able to hold back."

  I explode into pleasure again, and when he comes, he pulls out and starts to come. He shoots his seed all over my belly,
my breasts, and my neck. He groans and half-closes his eyes as he comes, and it's a beautiful sight to behold. One drop even lands on my lips and I lap it up hungrily. I love the combination of sweetness and bitterness. I never really liked the taste before Hunter, but with him, I can't get enough.

  Breathing hard, he collapses down next to me, both of us completely spent. "I love you," I say.

  "I love you too."

  Over the next couple months, business just explodes at the shop. In fact, the whole town starts to change. On one hand, I'm not sure how I feel about it. I don't want the town to lose its roots, but I'm excited for the future. And I'm excited that maybe it can hold its own against Springville once again. I try not to worry about it too much. Overall, it's a very good development for the people who live here, and after all, nothing stays the same forever.

  I work as long as I can, way into the third trimester. Only during the last couple weeks do I take time off, and somehow Hunter manages to keep the shop running with Jason's help, just the two of them. All while he fulfills his new duties as mayor of the town. There's an election coming up in just a couple months, but the people love him so much that we don't think it even makes sense to run a campaign. There are no worthy competitors.

  Jason and Crystal start dating for real, and I just love the chemistry between them. And it's great to see Jason grow into a confident young man. With proper shoes and a haircut.

  The lease on my crappy apartment finally ends, and Hunter and I look for a new house together. Between all his savings and the profits at the shop, we can afford almost anything we want without even worrying about it. It's a strange feeling, because all my life I've lived paycheck-to-paycheck and had to teach myself to do without. But now I provide for myself, and with Hunter's help, we'll provide for our baby when it comes.

  Right before my baby is born, the town holds a parade in our honor. There are rainbow bagels everywhere, and we make enough fried chicken and waffles to feed an army. The parade is full of music and lights and the most hopeful people you could imagine.

  "This is great," says Hunter, sitting next to me on the chariot we're riding on. His beard is smeared with honey-mustard dressing. I laugh and take a huge bite of a rainbow bagel smeared with mounds of rainbow cream cheese.

  "We're practically on top of the world," I say.

  Our business isn't the only one exploding. Oscar is getting a brand new location for his pawn shop, and Eddie's opening another branch of his Chinese restaurant on the other side of town. With all the young people moving here, everyone can afford to expand, and the rising tide is lifting all ships.

  When the baby finally comes, Hunter is there with me at the Springville hospital, holding my hand. It's a boy. And when I first hold him in my arms, I know that everything has changed forever.

  Hunter and I plan a real wedding. Yeah, we're technically married, but he did such a sweet thing by proposing to me with my mother's ring. So now that we're committed to each other and we can afford a real ceremony and reception, we're going to do it. I do my best not to become a Bridezilla, even though I think I drive Hunter crazy half the time anyway.

  That's life for us now. A beautiful blend of business, pleasure, commitment, and anticipation.

  And it's absolutely perfect.

  Epilogue

  1 Year Later

  Nowadays, when we're not raising our son or working in the shop, Hunter and I spend our days together doing all the stuff we missed out on after graduation. Going on adventures, shooting guns, riding ATVs, and swimming in the hot springs like we used to. All the things that make this small gown great. Today, Meg is babysitting our son so we can have some alone time together. His name is Jackson, after Hunter's dad.

  It's mostly me tagging along with Hunter, to be honest. He's the kind of guy who makes his own fun, the kind of guy everybody wants to have a beer with, with a magnetic, devilish sense of humor that people just can't resist. He's been like that ever since we were young.

  We plod up the footpath on Maple Ridge. It's a cool fall afternoon. I crunch through brown and golden leaves to the swing set up on the hill and plant my butt on the hard wooden plank. The iron chains creak and groan, but hold up as they always have. I've lived in Maple Ridge my whole life, and this playground is still exactly the way I've always remembered it.

  "Catch," says Hunter, peeling an aluminum can off a six-pack pack of beer and tossing it my way. I'm usually clumsy and never all that coordinated, but for some reason I always manage to catch when Hunter tosses to me.

  I slide a fingernail under the pop-tab and my beer snaps and hisses open. I take a swig, but when I swallow, I cringe and make a face. "Who actually likes this stuff?" I say, shaking my head. When Hunter used to get us beers in high school, I'd play it cool and pretend I liked it. But now that I'm his wife and he's my husband, I don't have to act anymore.

  Hunter laughs, setting the remaining beers down on a tree stump. He removes his jacket and throws it down, revealing his cut arms, bulging against the tight white t-shirt he's wearing. I push my legs against the ground, slowly swinging back and forth as I take small sips of my beer and eyeball my husband's delicious body. I can't believe it's all mine now.

  He peels off another beer for himself, cracks it open, and tosses his head back with the can to his lips. He does it deftly, much more experienced than me. As he bends his elbow to drink, his biceps and forearm flex, showing his raw strength and power beneath the surface.

  Hunter crosses his arms and grabs the tail of his t-shirt, then pulls it over and off his head, revealing his sculpted chest and abs. He rarely misses an opportunity to take off his shirt. That stomach is less of a six-pack, more like an eight-pack, and those shoulders... Damn, they're thick. I love being pinned underneath them, biting into them as he sinks deep inside me.

  "Com'ere," he says, wading into the hot springs. I strip down to my underwear and follow him in, leaving my can of beer behind. The steam rises around us, and it feels amazing compared to the chilly afternoon air.

  "Hard to believe that I'm back for good," he says, putting his arms around me. "And that we're married."

  "I still can't believe it either," I say, and I feel my leg brushing up against his. I run my hands over his arms and he pulls me in tight.

  My eyes flick over the long, straight road that leads out of Maple Ridge to the west. It's the highway to Springville. Ever since the bagel shop opened, the economy here has surged. More businesses are opening every month. The traffic used to be mostly one-way into Springville, but now it's starting to even out.

  Hunter leans into me and I smell his scent. It's all man, the scent of motor oil from his motorcycle that we rode on to the base of the hill, mixed with his comforting, strong natural musk. He's never smelled like cologne or body spray like most men. He's the kind of guy that all the other guys want to be.

  A cold breeze blows past us and I get chilly. I dip deeper into the warm water, huddling closer to Hunter, pressing the side of my body against his. I love the delightful contrast of his hard muscles against my soft skin.

  I look up at him, studying the line of his jaw as he looks out over the town.

  Hardly able to believe he's all mine, I reach up, put my palm against that rough, stubbled jaw, turn his cheek, and kiss him deep on the lips. I want to show him what he really means to me.

  When I pull away, he looks into my eyes, his deep emerald irises catching the faint silver glow in the air. His eyes drop down to my lips, and then a little lower, to where the bust of my tits pops out through my bra.

  I swallow hard, and my lips feel dry and chapped. My eyes feel heavy, and they sink down, fixating on his lips, which look as kissable as ever. My heart kicks like a bass drum in my chest.

  And then before my brain can catch up to what's happening, he sweeps my hair off my face, cups my cheek, and pulls me in for the best kiss of my life. My breath escapes my lungs in a heart-pounding rush, its mist dancing off his lips and into the night.

  Holy
crap. Before Hunter, I had no idea what it was like to kiss a real man.

  The kiss floods my senses, a torrent of emotion as my handsome husband crushes his lips to mine. He tastes like the wheat and hops of the beer, only when it's on him, it's delicious, and suddenly I understand why people like beer. His tongue glides against my lips, and then I part them instinctually, letting him in, and I feel the roughness of his tongue massaging mine. My skin prickles all over my body.

  When he finally pulls away for a breath, I'm half ecstatic, half destroyed, just like I always am when he kisses me.

  He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead, and stares into my eyes.

  My stomach churns with desire. I can't lie. That kiss left me wanting more. There's a deep heat building inside me. The world around me seems to evaporate for a few seconds. The feeling of his lips against mine is like nothing else that I've ever experienced before.

  I grab his hand and I gently, but firmly put it on my chest. I feel his hand brush against me, the weight of my breast in his palm, his fingertips curling under the edge of the fabric. I look into his eyes. "Take me, Hunter." His hands glide over my body, and I can barely wait for the pleasure I know they'll bring.

  My stomach flutters with nervousness and excitement as he unclasps my bra. Every time with Hunter feels like the first.

  "I love you," he whispers into my ear, "Always."

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