BIKER’S SURPRISE BABY

by Kathryn Thomas

  “I tried,” she said, shrugging. “My art pairs nicely with the red walls, I think.” She gazed out at the waiting room. One wall featured the requisite flip boards of pre-made tattoo art, but the large majority of her own framed pieces, gothic, warped, strange, emotional pieces that, in her vision, promised an artistic adventure for anyone willing to go there.

  “And it’s gonna pair nicely with this studio tonight,” Bo said, his voice lowering. “You ready? My hog is.”

  She laughed. “Your hog is always ready.”

  “Which hog are we talking about?” Bo grinned devilish. “The one outside or the one in my pants?”

  “Both!” Dakota cackled with laughter while she scooped up her purse and headed for Red’s room. She poked her head in. “Red, I’m heading out to that event now. Bo is taking me. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Red winked at her. “Good luck tonight!”

  Dakota hummed happily, joining Bo in the waiting room. He offered his arm, like the secretly gallant gentleman he was. “Shall we?”

  A couple hours later, after stop-and-go traffic in the city and then an exhilarating seaside highway ride, Bo and Dakota pulled up to the trendy art studio in Santa Monica. Spotlights illuminated squat palms and vibrantly red bushes lining the main walkway. She and Bo strolled up to the front door hand-in-hand.

  At the front door, they paid a little fee to see the show and then entered the moodily lit reverence of the gallery. Wooden floors gleamed, and stark, industrial chic walls bore sparse yet haunted images, a collection of trauma artwork from various artists.

  Bo looked around, clearing his throat. She slung an arm around his waist, grinning like a fool.

  “Pretty cool, huh?” They walked forward slowly.

  “Yeah.” His voice sounded unsure. She’d known he’d be uncomfortable here. But he’d get broken in. All in time.

  “This is your first art showing, isn’t it?” She picked up a sparkling drink being offered by a waiter? She almost took a sip—a reflex from so many years of being able to drink without thinking twice of it—but then offered it to Bo. “Look, you even get free drinks.”

  He eyed the sparkling beverage with an arched brow. “This looks like fairy piss.”

  She laughed. “And maybe it is. Come here, let’s look.” She tugged him toward the first piece, a black and white piece done mostly with paint splatters titled “The Horror”. She gazed at it a long time before turning to Bo. “What do you think?”

  He squinted at it. He was trying, at least. “I like it, but I don’t know why.”

  “Good. Very good.” She nodded, pulling him to the next piece. “And this one?”

  They stood in quiet reverence, absorbing the jagged lines that suggested either a couple turning away from each other, or the tortured lines of the artists’ mind, depending on how she looked at it.

  “Hmm.” Bo took another sip of the fairy piss. “I like them both. But this one looks like it would fit in with your studio.”

  She nodded, excitement burbling inside her. So you could teach a hardened biker dog new tricks. “I think you’re right. You’ve got an eye.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Bo cocked a grin.

  They spent some time drifting between paintings, where Dakota commented and questioned as much as she good. Bo was up for the challenge, too—after enough fairy piss and paintings, he was babbling like an old pro about the pieces. More proof to her that this life they shared could be even more amazing and dreamlike than she’d ever imagined possible. It’s time for the news.

  The next round of paintings had a sexier edge, something darkly erotic—writhing bodies, contorted faces, blatantly engorged genitalia. Visceral and primal, while somehow elegant. They looked at these pieces with raised eyebrows and secret glances.

  After they’d checked out most of the paintings, Dakota drew him down a dark hallway, which led to a patio out back. Conversation grew louder as they approached the brick-lined patio, twinkle lights reaching them. She paused in the doorway, surveying the scene. Lots of finely-dressed people with angular haircuts and perfectly-applied faces. And they were just another two more of them, though on the darker end of that scale.

  “What’s down here?” Bo jerked his head toward another hallway, leading along the edge of the building. She followed him down it, peeking around the corner expectantly, like two kids trying to discover a secret passage.

  “Oooh.” It seemed mostly dark and untended, like an unused part of the studio. Bo’s warm hands crested her hips, his breath at her ear.

  “This seems like a good time for a break,” Bo whispered, his strong hands appearing under her ass cheeks. A moment later she was hoisted against the wall, his groin pressed against hers. She giggled, hooking her arms around his neck, while he ground himself against her. “You want to, here?”

  “Mmm.” He nibbled at her earlobe. “Between the ride over here and all that weird sexy shit inside, I’m dying for it.” The ridge of his cock pressed through the thin fabric of her pants, right against her clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through her. This was his favorite position, and she could hardly complain that the man was crazy enough about her to want it in a dark hallway in the Santa Monica gallery.

  “We should be quick,” she whispered as he fiddled with the button on his jeans. He lowered her for a moment, tugging her leggings down, then hoisted her again with ease. His hot cockhead immediately sought entrance, slipping along the folds of her pussy. She inhaled sharply, arching herself toward him.

  “All that sexy stuff turned me on,” Bo said, grunting as he lined himself up. “But you’re the sexiest part about this place.” He eased himself in slowly, a shuddery sigh escaping him. “You turn me on always, darlin’. No matter what.”

  She bit back a moan as he rocked against her, the heat of him sinking into her, mingling with the scent of him, a heady mixture of leather and outdoors.

  “I love you Bo,” she whispered, clenching around him, loving how he could always take her in just the right way, reaching just the right spot. That sensitive, furtive spot inside, a place she’d thought she’d have to bury permanently. But then Bo came along, filling her up, showing her it was okay to share the spot with someone else.

  And he would take good care of it…care of her. Something about this trip to the art gallery solidified that for her. Not only was he her hero, but he was in for the long haul at her side. To try new things that weren’t his forte. To go places with her that he wouldn’t go on his own. Tears pressed against her eyes as he thrust into her, the passion and emotion spiraling upward into a cacophony of pleasure. Her ears rang as he breathed into her ear.

  “I love you, Dakota.” His voice came out achingly tender at her ear, like the words came from the deepest part of him. “I’ll love you forever.”

  She clutched at the front of his shirt, biting back moans as he pumped her harder, faster, the quiet of their dark corner broken only by their breathy gasps and the wet slaps of skin. After a few more moments, the pace picked up, which meant he was close. And just in time—she knotted her fist in his shirt, nearly ripping it off his chest, as she came, hot rolling waves of orgasm that spread through her cells as she received every last drop of his passion.

  He slowed, breathing jagged against her neck. “Fuck.”

  “I know, babe.” She dragged her fingernails up and down the back of his neck, eyes drifting lazily shut. He knew how to make her feel good. Even in the most unlikely places.

  He breathed against her neck for a few moments, his breath coming out moist against her skin. “I want to marry you, Dakota.”

  The words hit her like a stun gun. She tensed her thighs around him, hesitant to believe she’d actually heard them. And before sharing her own news, no less. “What?”

  “I know it might be soon, but I already know.” He skipped kisses over her jawline. “I want you as my old lady.”

  Tears pressed against her throat and she buried her face in his shoulder, a muffled cry escapi
ng her. “Yes, Bo. Fucking of course.”

  His chest heaved with a laugh and after a bit he slid her to the ground, her feet meeting the floor shakily. They pulled up their pants, smoothing everything down and back into place, grinning like idiots at each other.

  “I was worried about asking you,” Bo said in a timid voice, which was unlike him. “Thought it might be too soon.”

  “It’s not too soon, babe.” She stroked his cheek with her thumb, eyes filling with tears as she prepared herself to up the ante. “In fact, it’s just right. I had something to tell you.”

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “What is it?”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  His lips stilled at her forehead. For a moment, all she could hear was his quiet breathing. Finally, he pulled back, searching out her gaze.

  “Are you serious?”

  She nodded, swallowing a knot of emotion. “My period is late. And I’m never late…”

  “Dakota.” His voice had transformed into something soft, reverent. “Holy shit. This is amazing.”

  A grin spread across her face. “Yeah? You think so?”

  “Of course.” He smashed his lips against hers. “We’re gonna be parents.” He laughed. “This is fucking. We’ve got so much to celebrate.”

  She giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist, cinching him tight against her. “Well let’s go out there and start celebrating. You’ll be getting drunk for the both of us for awhile.”

  As they strolled down the hall hand in hand, they grinned at each other. They pushed through the silky strips dangling in the doorway to the patio, and soft white light enveloped them in the bush-lined patio. Easy chatter filled the air and another waiter drifted by with sparkling drinks on his platter. Dakota snagged another one and handed it to Bo, lifting her eyebrows as he took a sip.

  “Well, darlin’.” Bo nudged her hip with his, hands buried in his pockets. “You shouldn’t put this off any longer. Time to find the owner.”

  She nodded, anxiety streaking through her. She’d been communicating with the owner since about two weeks ago, when they’d found out about Dakota’s private artwork through a friend of a friend. Coming here would seal the deal to get her art included in the gallery—and be the first major step to starting her art career, outside of the tattoo studio.

  “I’m just nervous,” she said, tucking hair behind her ear. “I like living in this bubble of waiting to meet her…because right now, she hasn’t told me no and crushed my dreams.” She laughed a little. “No matter how silly that sounds.”

  “There’s no way she’s gonna crush your dreams, darlin’,” Bo said, stepping closer, snagging her at the waist. “Your dreams can’t be crushed.”

  Dakota grinned up at him, bringing her fingers over his cheek. “You know exactly how to woo a lady, did you know that?”

  “Oh yeah? You’re talking about what we did in the hallway, aren’t you?” His eyes twinkled dark.

  “Sure. Though we shouldn’t tell the owner how we defiled her back hallway.” She laughed, swatting at his chest. “No, I mean you’re amazing. You are so supportive. You believe in me. And that means more than I can ever explain.”

  Tenderness seared through her and she wanted to crumble into pieces from loving him, for discovering the most unexpected truth: that this man, who seemed so unthinkably different, could end up being so unspeakably right for her. And their unborn baby.

  “How could I not, Dakota?” He brushed his thumb over her cheek, his expression growing serious. “You’re the most important person in my world. You’re the light in my underworld. And my only mission in life is to make sure that light never burns out.” He grabbed her hand, bringing his lips to the back of it. “And I’ll spend my entire life honoring that promise.”

  Tears clogged her throat and she smiled up at him. “So you want to make me cry before I meet the owner?”

  “Maybe a little,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her temple. “But mostly just want to remind you how awesome you are.” He squeezed her ass cheek, eyes set on something over her shoulder. “There she is. Now go get ‘em, darlin’.”

  He pressed a kiss to her lips and then sent her on her way. Dakota floated forward toward the owner, buoyed by Bo’s confidence, floating on the power of his kiss, and more settled than she’d imagined possible by the natural way in which they’d built their own path toward forever.

  With Bo at her side, anything was possible.

  THE END

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  OTHER BOOKS BY KATHRYN THOMAS

  MY BLIND DATE IS A HITMAN. AND HE JUST PUT A BABY IN MY BELLY.

  It all started with a lie.

  I’m terrified of how it’s going to end.

  Because I let myself fall for the hitman…

  And now I’m pregnant with his baby.

  LILY

  He said he was my blind date.

  I guess I just wanted to believe him.

  He was tall, dark, handsome – and dangerous.

  So I let him take me to bed.

  But the best night of my life turned into the worst morning.

  Because Roman is gone…

  But he left his baby in my belly.

  ROMAN

  A gorgeous girl alone at a bar?

  I’ll be whoever she wants me to be.

  It’s not the first time I’ve lied.

  And it sure as hell won’t be the last.

  Because lies are my profession.

  I hurt.

  I torture.

  I kill.

  Compared to all that, lying is the nicest thing I do.

  Lily doesn’t have to know all that, of course.

  After all, she’ll only know me for a night.

  I plan to disappear as soon as the sun’s up, never to be seen again.

  But when I end up on her operating table a month later with a bullet in my shoulder,

  I realize what I left behind with her.

  From now on, I won’t let her out of my sight.

  She belongs to me now.

  ***

  HE’LL PUT A BABY IN ME SO HE OWNS ME FOREVER.

  The artist in me wants to admire him.

  The bad girl in me wants to strip for him.

  But Bo Braxton doesn’t care about what I want.

  Because he’s about to put a baby in my belly.

  A man like Bo is used to getting his way.

  He doesn’t say please.

  He doesn’t say thank you.

  He just sees what he desires and claims it as his.

  And his sights just landed on me.

  From the moment he walks into my tattoo parlor, he owns me.

  I can’t say no.

  And I wouldn’t, even if I had the chance.

  He’s just too much in every way.

  Too much man.

  Too much power.

  And far, far too much danger.

  It’s not enough for Bo to own my body, my heart, my mind.

  He’s got to brand his mark on me – permanently.

  By putting his baby in my womb.

  But what I didn’t know is that he has enemies.

  And they’ll do whatever it takes to hurt him.

  Even if that means hurting me.

  Now, I’ve got a child growing inside of me and a war raging around me.

  I’m gonna give Braxton a piece of my mind…

  As long as we both get out alive.

  ***

  THE DEVIL HIMSELF PUT A BABY IN MY BELLY.

  I let things go too far.

  But I couldn’t stop him – the mystery man who owned me for the night.

  Submitting to him was a welcome escape from my horrible life…

  But there’s no escaping the baby he put in my belly.

  It was a wild Halloween party where I met him.

  The masked man wi
th a kiss like fire and a body like a god.

  I wanted to feel alive again.

  And when he held me down, I felt freer than I had in years.

  I wanted his touch, his kiss, his power.

  But I didn’t ask for what he gave me:

  A child in my womb.

  He left as suddenly as he came.

  Now, I’m worse off than I ever was.

  Pregnant and alone.

  No hope in sight.

  Even though he was masked, I swear I’d recognize him if only we crossed paths again.

  There’s no mistaking that aura.

  Danger.

  Freedom.

  Strength.

  If I could only find the devil who did this to me…

  I’d make him pay.

  But as I soon discover…