OUR UNLIKELY BABY_Blacksteel Bandits MC

by Paula Cox

  Her fingers jerked the boxers down, a little lower. Tyler shuddered as his full erection became exposed to the sun and the open air. Miranda sat back a breath, admiring the hot, thick organ. Then she swept down, taking his dick into her mouth.

  Tyler moaned and arched his back, his hands going to her hair. Miranda closed her eyes and enjoyed her bout of sexual power as her tongue swirled around the head of his dick. Tyler twitched and shuddered under her mouth, under her power. His fingers tightened in her hair as she bobbed up and down. Her pace was steady and quick, hitting a rhythm that would soon push him over the edge.

  Then she moaned around his cock. The vibrations riveted along his sex, to his core and his bones. Pleasure blossomed along his nerves. He gasped and groaned, arching farther against the ground.

  Churning heat and delight consumed Miranda's body. Her hormones were elated over his reactions, his groans, the way his body behaved in relation to her movements. Tyler's cock twitched in her mouth and, under her massaging palm, she felt his balls tighten. Excitement coursed through her body as his body tightened. He was on the razor's edge of pleasure.

  She couldn't hold back any longer.

  When Miranda pulled away, Tyler's eyes snapped open. The word 'tease' formed on his tongue. Instead of her smug grin, he was graced with Miranda's impromptu strip show. She made quick work of her jeans and her panties, kicking them off as she wiggled out of her boots. Even from the distance, he could tell her sex throbbed and dampened with desire. His heart twisted in ecstasy as Miranda, her bottom half now bare, crawled atop him. His hands immediately hovered over her hips.

  She caught his lips in hers as her pussy slid along the length of his cock. Tyler moaned and bucked his hips, drunk and impatient on hormones. Against his lips, Miranda breathed a laugh. With experience and confidence, she rolled her hips and caught the head of his cock against her slit. Tyler's hands clamped to her hips. She slammed herself down. A satisfying slap filled their little glade, laced with the couple's moans of gratification.

  Stars sparked at the corner of Tyler's sight as soon as Miranda worked her pussy up and down his cock. His fingers dug into her hips as he brought her down harder. At the same time, his hips came up, meeting her halfway. Miranda gasped, pleasure exploding inside of her with every deep thrust. Her toes curled against the blanket.

  Heat and pressure mounted inside both of them. Their movements became frenzied as the temperature between them continued to rise. Their lower tummies tightened, tangling up their insides. Miranda gasped and whimpered against Tyler's ear as his hot breath panted against the crook of her neck.

  Fuzzy pleasure danced along the corners of her thoughts. Her thighs trembled. With her every sigh and mewl, Tyler found it harder and harder to concentrate. His thoughts became a soggy muck of hormones, slick with delight and excitement.

  When her pussy pulsed around his cock, he loudly groaned in complete gratification. The sound sank into Miranda's body and licked across her nerves. Her inner walls worked around his dick as he filled her with his liquid heat.

  Miranda gasped and loudly moaned, pressing her lips into his neck to stifle her sounds. Her whole body tensed as her core tightened and clenched at his cock while the heat of satisfaction cascaded inside her. She rollicked against him, despite the tremors racing along her body. Her sex squeezed every last drop from his still twitching cock.

  Miranda collapsed atop him, her body relaxed. Her fingers threaded through his hair, working along his scalp. Tyler smiled, joy filtering into his head as he stroked her back. A lazy, lovely afterglow consumed them as a brief breeze kicked up about their bodies.

  They would have to move soon, lest they be caught with their pants literally down. Yet, for now, neither found a good enough reason to move away from the other.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After Tyler left her apartment, time seemed to slow. Then again, Legacy always seemed slower on Mondays. Miranda sighed and glanced to the clock as she straightened the deposit forms on the island in the lobby. It was almost opening time and, still, her thoughts bobbed along disappointment and fondness. Recent memories of her weekend wafted through her thoughts. Closure and severance had long faded from her mind.

  “Ooh, I'm sensing you had a good weekend.” Naomi's voice cut through her thoughts.

  Miranda's face reddened as she abruptly turned to her co-worker. She had been so absorbed in what to do about Tyler, she hadn't even heard Naomi's entry. Miranda feigned ignorance. “What would make you say that?”

  “You look about ready to float off the ground,” Naomi laughed as she readjusted the purse on her shoulder. “Was it that redhead cutie?”

  Heat flared across Miranda's body. She could still feel his lips on her, his fingers, his body. She pursed her lips and replied, “His name's Tyler.”

  Naomi cooed, a knowing grin on her lips, “Oooh, Tyler.”

  “He's my ex,” muttered Miranda. Her face burned hotter. Unable to take Naomi’s sparkling stare, she turned away. She pretended to busy herself with tidying the already immaculate island.

  “What?!” Naomi’s screech was Miranda's cue to wander toward the back of the bank, as if she were continuing with her morning routine. She had already gone over everything three times, though. Naomi followed at her heels. “Why didn't you say something!?”

  “I didn't think much of it,” she lied while she forced her heart to calm its erratic rhythm. Though, it was slightly true. Friday evening, at the bar, the mere prospect of spending the entire weekend with Tyler was unthinkable.

  “And you didn't even bother to text me?” Naomi's hand landed on Miranda's shoulder and she forced her to turn around. With a tight hold on her shoulders and an eager glint, Naomi could barely contain her curiosity. “Dish. Now.”

  “What's there to dish?” Miranda averted her gaze while her face burned. She shrugged off Naomi's hands and backed away. She wanted space. She was sure Naomi could hear her heart slam about in her chest. What did she have to be ashamed of, though? They were all adults. “We hung out over the weekend.”

  Naomi's eyebrows tilted upward. “Did he spend the night?”

  “Yes,” grunted Miranda. The urge to confide in Naomi swelled in her thoughts. The blonde would know how to handle the feelings battling inside her head. There was no one else she could turn to. Well, no one who wouldn't go running to her family about the news. Annoyance wrinkled Miranda's thoughts. How did her family have everyone curled around their little fingers?

  Curiosity knew no bounds in Naomi's head. She leaned forward, the grin broadening across her lips. “How many nights?”

  The blush flared hotly across Miranda's face. It clawed up her neck and down to her center. She shifted her weight from foot to foot. Averting her gaze, she answered, “The whole weekend.”

  “That's my girl!” Naomi squealed and clapped Miranda on the shoulder. She was all grins and sparkling eyes. “Are you going to see him again?”

  “It's complicated,” Miranda pulled away, again. She fussed with the hem of her blouse, before she scuttled down the counters. She filled pencil cups and replenished sticky notes, busying her nervous fingers. She could feel Naomi’s critical gaze on her.

  “No, it's not,” Naomi said as she pursued Miranda. “If you want to see him again, send him a text.”

  “We broke up.” The words spewed from her lips before she could censor them. Their breakup made its rounds in her head, followed quickly by her loved ones going behind her back and ruining her relationship. Bile climbed up Miranda's throat, but she ignored her feelings.

  “Over the weekend?” Naomi snorted and mock stage-whispered to herself, “That was fast.”

  “No, ten years ago. I guess my family didn't really like him,” Miranda paused, her eyebrows furrowed unhappily, “Or my friends.” That sense of betrayal inflated in her thoughts. Miranda's thoughts became barbed and her words embittered, “They talked to him, apparently, and that's why he broke up with me.”

  Naomi went silent. T
he ambient temperature seemed to drop a couple degrees. Miranda turned back to the counters and she aimlessly fiddled with loose supplies. She knew what her friend was going to say.

  Naomi hated when people tried to run lives that weren't theirs. Miranda never had an issue with her family's pushiness. Well, not until Tyler revealed their private discussions with him. When Naomi spoke, her voice held a cold tone of displeasure, “Sounds like he broke up with you because of them. Not you.”

  “It was ten years ago,” Miranda reiterated, as if the point hadn't sunk into Naomi's head. She shot her friend a pointed look. Naomi wasn't this dense. Plus, where was the 'love them, leave them' attitude she usually possessed? Miranda resisted pressing her lips into a frustrated line. “They thought they were helping.”

  “Who cares what they thought?” Naomi leaned back against the counter, her eyes warm and bright with idealized romance. “Fresh start, new chances. You seem happier, even if it was only a weekend.”

  Miranda shook her head. The blush flared hotter than ever. Even though she despised her family for their meddling, Miranda couldn't just fall back into Tyler's arms. They were from two very separate worlds – even if he did make her unbelievably happy with his mere presence. “We're not good for each other.”

  “What makes you say that?” Naomi listed her head to the side, her brows dipped in curiosity.

  “He's just… I get…” Miranda stumbled over her words. She got hasty and reckless around Tyler, but she never hurt anyone, despite what her parents thought. As she pressed her lips together, her eyebrows furrowed. Freedom and confidence always flooded her senses around Tyler. Was that really a bad thing? Feeling as if she could do anything with him by her side? “I'm someone different around him.”

  “And you don't like that side of you?”

  “No, that's not it.” Miranda's shoulders hunched to her ears. Frustration and embarrassment licked across her face. She didn't have the words to explain herself.

  “Then what's the problem?”

  Miranda fell silent. There wasn't a problem. That was the problem, though. She became reckless and careless around Tyler. When she was a kid, she missed school. As an adult, what would she sacrifice just to be around Tyler? What responsibilities would she shirk? A job was different than school. People counted on her at the bank. An impatient knock rapped on the glass door. Miranda jolted and shook the thoughts away. This was not the time to dwell on her personal problems.

  “Let's talk about this later, Naomi. The bank needs to open” Miranda jammed the excess pens and sticky notes into a supply drawer. She glanced up at the clock. They were ten minutes late opening the doors. Guilt pinched at her thoughts as she imagined her family blaming Tyler for this incident. Somewhat thankful for the distraction, she switched into full-bank manager mode as she power-walked to the front door.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A sense of sadness swelled up in Tyler's chest as he stepped into the motel room. The whole ride from Miranda's apartment, his mind contrived new ways to go see her again. Stepping into his room only solidified their separation. Of course, he could find her at the bank. Maybe a dinner, a movie, bowling? Tyler groaned and ran a hand through his hair. He was acting ridiculous. Like a teenager again, who plotted 'coincidental' meetings with his crush.

  “Where have you been? I've been trying to get hold of you!” Jack stormed out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans with a towel coiled across the back of his shoulders. His eyebrows lowered in anger and his eyes brightened by worry as he advanced on Tyler.

  Tyler cocked an eyebrow, confused by Jack's sudden irritation. There had been plenty weekends where either one of them disappeared with a pretty thing. A small bead of guilt rolled about his thoughts. He had blatantly ignored uncharacteristic texts. Tyler forced a shrug to his shoulders and an airy lilt to his words, “I was enjoying my vacation.”

  “Yeah, well vacation is cut short, Ty.” Jack's expression pinched and soured.

  “Why?”

  “Lloyd found me Saturday.” Tyler's blood ran cold and his stomach clenched. Jack's expression darkened with discomfort. “Pete knows we blew the whistle and wants us back ASAP. Lloyd owes me, so he gave us some time to pack up and get out.”

  The world felt like it had spun out beneath Tyler's feet. His stomach clenched and nausea rose in his thoughts. Thoughts of Miranda danced about his head. He clamped down on them. No, he had to sever the tie before it got any worse.

  The whole reason for their trip was for distance and safety. Jack, being the only number-savvy member of the Blacksteel Bandits, had confided in Tyler about some number discrepancy in the books. Upon further investigation, the numbers all traced back to their president. After handing the necessary proof to one of the senior members, Jack and Tyler rode of into the sunset for a vacation approved a week prior.

  Tyler clenched his fists, unable to look at Jack as he asked, “How long?”

  “Tonight, by ten,” Jack muttered, his hollow tone laced with irritation. Obviously, Tyler should have addressed his calls and texts sooner.

  “Shit.” Tyler hissed and ran his hand through his hair. Weighted disappointment slammed into his stomach. Of all the foolish, stupid things he had done, this took the cake. Yet, he couldn't find it in him to regret any second spent with Miranda.

  Tyler clamped down on all thoughts of her. He tied them up and shoved them into a mental box, into a far corner of his mind. They had plans to make. They needed to pack, check out, empty his bank account. The thought of the bank made Tyler's brain freeze. Miranda would be there. His stomach lurched unhappily before his inner biker took over.

  Tough shit for Miranda. Tyler had to do anything to stay alive, even if that meant breaking her heart. Again. It also meant keeping her safe. The thought brought the taste of bile to Tyler's tongue. He didn't want to leave. He didn't want to turn his back on Miranda – again. But he had no choice. If he stayed, he wouldn't stay away from her. Tyler's stomach dropped to his knees, imagining what Pete would do if he found out about her.

  * * *

  As soon as Tyler stepped into the bank, the silence descended immediately. Eyes were on him and whispers followed. Faintly, he wondered if anyone had recognized him by now. That thought made Tyler's skin itch with uncertainty. This time, however, he was alone, which made it worse. Jack was busy packing up and preparing for the long road ahead, so it couldn't be helped.

  He made his way to the tellers' counter. The line had suddenly dispersed as soon as he joined it. A bald man stood behind the counter when Tyler stepped forward. “How may I help you, sir?”

  Tyler leaned on the counter and hunched his shoulders. His eyes darted around the back area, faintly wondering where Miranda was. He didn't want to see her with the request he had. “I'd like to close my account.”

  “Certainly, sir,” the man answered with crisp professionalism. His smile retained that glassy expression as he asked Tyler a few questions. After gaining the information he needed, and accessing Tyler's account, the bald man asked, “Is there another bank account you'd like to transfer your money to?”

  Tyler forced himself to remain breezy and cool. He hated the runaround banks gave him, especially when it entailed a good deal of money. It was his money, wasn't it? “No, I'd like to cash it all out.”

  The teller's eyebrows twitched upward, almost imperceptibly. The air in Tyler's lungs locked. This was going to be a problem. He could smell it on the air. The teller retrieved his smile, though, and replied, “I'll need to go get my manager to make sure it's okay.”

  Before Tyler could answer, the man scurried away. He puffed out a sigh of exasperation. The less he saw Miranda, the less likely he'd want to spend another night with her. His stomach coiled unhappily as he heard her familiar footfalls on the carpet.

  “Mr. Ferguson,” Miranda smiled glassily at him. She was all professionalism. “I hear you want to take all your money out.”

  Tyler couldn't meet her eye. He kept his face trained on her, though his gaz
e flickered elsewhere behind his sunglasses. He simply nodded and grunted, “Yep.”

  “That's a lot of money to carry on your person.” Her warning tone had a lick of worry to it. When older patrons wanted to cash out their seventy-odd thousand dollars, there was quite a lot of hoopla. Thankfully, though Tyler had a decent amount of cash in his bank account, he didn't have enough to call for an escort out. Besides, he was a big, strong biker. No one would posit a complaint about her breach of protocol.

  He hunched his shoulders and pursed his lips. “I know.”

  “All right, I'll handle this, Lenny.” Miranda smiled as her employee scurried away. She turned back to the computer, resisting the urge to frown. She typed in the override commands, adding a note that the patron was out-of-town. Faintly, she wondered if her mother – who took to overseeing most transactions – would recognize Tyler's name.