OUR UNLIKELY BABY_Blacksteel Bandits MC

by Paula Cox

  The musing of her mother didn't quite overwrite the other thoughts circulating in Miranda's head. Tyler was taking all of his money from his account. That meant he was leaving. Her heart ached and the back of her eyes burned. She took deep, inconspicuous breaths through her nose. She couldn't turn into a puddle of tears while at work – especially, not in the middle of a transaction.

  As her fingers clacked across the keyboard, she took a straightened her thoughts. Whatever Tyler did, it was his business. They weren't dating and he had no obligation to her. Her heart hiccupped at the very thought. Regardless, Miranda turned to Tyler, her own glassy smile affixed to her lips. “Mr. Ferguson, typically, we have a waiting period to withdraw money from the bank. It's highly unusual to withdraw everything.”

  For a second, anger flickered across his features, followed closely by a pinched worry. Who was a bank to decide when and how he could have his money? And if he didn't take it all, they'd have a credit trail, easily traceable by Lloyd or Pete. The thought made Tyler's stomach fall to his knees.

  He ran his hand through his hair, his brows furrowing. Before he could manage to mutter dissent, Miranda sighed. She turned back to the computer and typed something in. Then, without a word to Tyler, she turned away and waltzed into the back room.

  Overall, Legacy's bank did extremely well. The amount Tyler wanted to withdraw wasn't so extreme and wouldn't require the bank to report it. However, worry did tinge at Miranda's thoughts. Tyler breezed into town and out, again. He withdrew all of his money. And the face he made when she mentioned the odd situation. Was he in trouble? The thought made Miranda's stomach churn.

  When she made her way back to the counter with the stacks of money, she switched to a numb autopilot. She counted the money, almost in an automaton-like trance. Tyler listened with dull eyes, nodding his head once she was finished. After she neatly placed the money in the bag and held it out to him, a need sliced through her thoughts. This may be the last time she ever saw him. Ever.

  Something snapped in her thoughts. The weekend had been long and lovely and gratifyingly exhausting. She almost thought it would never end. Yet, it had. And here he was, withdrawing money and about to disappear off the face of the earth again.

  Tyler's fingers brushed against hers. She sharply inhaled, her eyes widening as she felt sparks along her arm. Over the short distance, she and Tyler locked gazes. Heat and pressure slammed between them. Miranda knew what she wanted.

  “Mr. Ferguson, I must discuss a few things with you in my office,” Miranda lied through her teeth. The back of her neck warmed under the curious glances of her many co-workers. She pushed all of her embarrassment and uncertainty away. This might be her last chance. Plus, she was the bank manager. She could make unorthodox requests. She just needed a good lie for later when her family and co-workers asked.

  After they stepped into her office, Tyler shut the door silently behind him. Miranda drew the blinds to the windows that looked into the lobby before she sauntered to her desk. She leaned against the surface while Tyler's eyes trailed around the room.

  There wasn't much to it. It was done up in the same cream and cool grey motif as the rest of the bank. There were small splashes of color thanks to the mahogany desk and shelves, but – otherwise – everything was muted and dull.

  Miranda tried not to think how the room represented part of her. It felt so sterile and foreign. She hated her office and she did everything she could to avoid working in the room. When she did have to sit at her desk, she would keep the door propped open or the windows flung wide. The chatter of the lobby or the heat of the sun livened up the place.

  Painfully, Tyler noted there was little to no familial or friendly pictures hanging up in the room. Overall, the office was painfully sparse. When his gaze fell back to Miranda, he realized the room didn't represent her. It was a façade made up of appropriate features her family would most likely approve.

  She watched him, carefully.

  Tyler pulled his gaze away and ducked his head down. As he slid the paper bag of money into his inner vest pocket, he asked, “So, what's this about, Mir?”

  She swallowed, her thoughts turning over a whim that had drifted in and out of her mind all morning. Well, it was no or never. Otherwise, Miranda felt she'd never have another chance. “Do you want to come over to my place tonight?”

  Tyler hid his surprise and his delight. He was certain Miranda would move on after their constant time together the last few days. A part of him still rallied against the offer. “We spent the entire weekend together.”

  “So, no,” murmured Miranda as she dropped her eyes to the floor. Dejection and rejection sifted through her thoughts. Faintly, she wondered if Tyler only wanted a sex-filled weekend. Was she that easy of a target for him?

  “Mir, I'd love to, but–” I'm leaving and I don't want to hurt you again. That's what he wanted to add, but he couldn't find the words. He didn't want to leave and he didn't want to push her away. The very thought sent an ache through his heart.

  “I get it,” Miranda sighed and held up a hand. Tyler snapped his lips shut as she continued, “I just thought, since we ordered in every night this last weekend, I could make you dinner.”

  “What's on the menu?” Tyler's stomach coiled. The few times Miranda cooked for him in the past had been delicious. Even his taste buds hadn't forgotten.

  “This is going to be a low blow,” Miranda laughed and smiled. It was a backup that a sneakier, sly part of her mind came up with. She felt a little bad for pulling this card, but she had long ago learned his secret weakness. With a coy grin, she said, “I was thinking of your favorite hot wings.”

  “With the buffalo sauce?” Dual emotions clashed in Tyler's head. It had been so long since he had her 'Groves Family Secret' hot wings. His stomach lurched and the memory of the phenomenal taste danced across his taste buds. At the same time, his head snapped and snarled. He and Jack had to leave. The sooner, the better.

  Miranda's lips curled into a smug smirk. “Yep.”

  He mentally groaned. Of course she wasn't going to make this easy on him. She didn't want him to leave as much as he didn't want to leave. Even if she didn't know how close the end was. Spurred by exasperation, Tyler crossed the room. He pinned Miranda against the desk as his hands curled around her shoulders. He stooped down, his lips close to her ear as he growled, “Why are you making this so hard, Mir?”

  “Isn't that my usual effect on you, Ty?” She returned, her voice becoming a husky, throat rasp. The words raked along his spine and settled in his groin. Eagerness swelled in her thoughts. She really shouldn't encourage that heated look in his eyes, but she couldn't help it. She got onto her tiptoes, the smirk still present on her lips as she whispered into his ear, “What're you going to do about it?”

  Yes, that was the usual effect she had on him. His fingers tightened against her shoulders. Now, she goaded his actions. She wanted him. Tyler could smell the thick pheromones in the air and his resolution trembled.

  “Be careful what you ask for, Mir.”

  “Oh?” That single syllable, laced with amusement and goading, drove his desires home. He turned her around and bent her over the desk. Miranda staggered, her heels a safety hazard on the carpet. Tyler wasted no time in hiking up her skirt and running his fingers across the crotch of her panties.

  Her fingers curled around the edge of her desk. Excitement throbbed through her and her breathing had already hitched slightly. She shouldn't be this excited. She should be horrified at the prospect of sex at work while on the clock. The vixen in her, the one that had reawakened with Tyler's return, didn't care, though. Delight sifted through her thoughts and her nerves fizzled with pleasure.

  With a flick of his wrist, a tearing sound echoed through the air. Miranda inhaled, sharply, as her fingernails dug into her desk. He had torn her panties off. Cool, air-conditioned air kissed her ass just before Tyler's warm palms groped her ass. Miranda swallowed her whimper. She arched her back, feeling h
is body heat behind her.

  His fingers slid into her folds, coating the digits in her moisture. Her swollen nub throbbed as his fingers swirled slowly around it. Miranda muffled her mewl of delight, her hips rocking against his ministrations. Tyler capped his own moan as his cock strained against his jeans.

  Testing Miranda's sensitivity, he managed to gently pinch her nub. A harsh tremor rollicked through her body, a rough gasp escaped through clenched teeth. The brief pleasure echoed through her body, stinging and enjoyable. Under her breath, Miranda hissed, “Fuck.”

  His lips twisted into a grin. His fingers clasped around her nub, giving it a gentle squeeze and a minute twist. Again, her body quivered and her breathing came out harsh. She eased when his fingers slide away from her clit. Searing shudders still licked down her body as his fingers caressed her slit.

  Suddenly, Tyler thrust his fingers into her pulsing pussy. A loud moan escaped Miranda's lips before his hand slapped across her mouth. Her eyes widened, face hot and red as he pounded into her with his fingers.

  Miranda whimpered against his palm. The scent of motor oil and dirt and sweat coated his hand, but she enjoyed it. It was masculine and sexy. She imagined his fingerprints leaving telltale signs on her face and people knowing what happened in her office. Her stomach flipped in delight and the tingles increased tenfold as she moaned into Tyler's hand.

  Just as Miranda felt the razor's edge of release coming on, his fingers pulled out. She swallowed down her disappointed whimper. Her hips rocked back and forth, as if trying to locate his missing digits. Tyler chuckled and stepped back. The bubble of heat and hormones between them popped. Miranda pushed herself into an upright position, tugging her skirt down to recover her modesty.

  When she spun on her heel, Tyler's grin split across his face. In his hand, her panties dangled. As he pocketed her undergarments, he said, “For being troublesome, I hope you enjoy going commando.”

  Miranda's face flared with a blush. Her fingers curled into fists, but she was at a total loss for words. Mortification and pleasure entwined in her lower stomach, along with a pinch of frustration. Her toes curled in her shoes and her pussy throbbed in need.

  “I'll see you tonight around six,” Tyler laughed, beating a hasty retreat. The blush that colored Miranda's face looked about ready to explode. He didn't want to risk being found out. She wasn't a woman who took pleasure quietly. Excitement jolted through his body at the very prospect of her moans, whimpers, and mewls. As he imagined them, his internal temperature rose.

  It was a short-lived heat wave. As soon as he crossed the threshold from Miranda's office into the lobby, a chill settled in the air. Either the Groves were paying too much for AC or his presence was still unwelcome. Cheekily, Tyler waved to the quiet tellers, who watched him with wary eyes. Only the blonde that Jack took a liking to smiled and waved back.

  Tyler stored that fact at the back of his head as he made his way for the exit. Jack was going to be pissed at the delay. Tyler couldn't find the energy to be ashamed, though. Tonight, he was getting hot wings and Miranda. Two tasty treats for a long, strenuous road ahead.

  A brief flit of guilt flew through Tyler. He should at least tell her before he left. She deserved that much, even if his looming departure was obvious. Tyler sighed and ran a hand through his hair, shoving the thoughts away. He could worry about that later when he was on her doorstep.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “What do you mean, you've gone to seen her again?” The words nearly shrieked from Tyler's prepaid cellphone. He held it a good three inches away from his ear as Jack reamed into him. He anticipated this reaction. Jack had good reason to be annoyed and angry. Tyler had avoided telling Jack his dinner plans. Part of him felt bad, but another part of him keened in excitement. Miranda and hot wings. It was a fantasy that both his dick and his stomach could get behind.

  “I can't talk. I'm here,” replied Tyler. He rapped quickly on Miranda's door as he bid farewell to Jack. His friend was snarling and shouting cusses as he clicked the hang up button. Within seconds of his knock, the door swung open.

  The heavenly spicy scent of buffalo hot wings tinged the air in Miranda's apartment and spilled into the hallway. Tyler's stomach clenched eagerly as soon as he stepped into her abode.

  Miranda shut the door loudly behind him and the sound of the lock cleaved the quiet air. He turned, eyebrows raised. The woman radiated a serious air, but his eyes wandered. In a tank top and daisy dukes, she made his mouth water.

  “Before we eat, you have some business to take care of,” muttered Miranda as he kicked off his boots. Her pussy throbbed as she spoke. Ever since he left her in her office, her whole body ached with unsatisfied desire. Miranda had struggled through the workday, mind foggy with need. The only thing she could concentrate on was Tyler's damned hot wings.

  He listed his head to the side, a good-humored smile twitched at his lips. “What?”

  “On your knees,” Miranda demanded as she pointed to the floor. Those three words sent a blast of hormones shuddering through Tyler's veins. The corners of his lips tilted upward in a gleeful grin. Miranda's cheeks pinked, but her body ached for a release.

  “Oh, I see, you're still jonesing to come, eh?” Tyler smirked, leaning closer to Miranda. Her serious gaze never dallied from his. The glint in her eyes crackled through his blood and sunk into his bones. There had been plenty times that same expression had been used. Each time was seared into his memory. “Well, you chose the setting last time. Now, it's my turn.”

  Without waiting for Miranda to open her mouth, Tyler's hand shot out. He grasped her wrist and tugged her through the living room. She already knew where they were heading long before Tyler slid the glass door open. He stepped out onto the balcony, a pleased grin on his face. She hesitated, her eyes locked to the threshold line.

  Something solidified in her thoughts, though, and her gaze flickered to Tyler as she stepped onto the balcony. Goosebumps skittered over her skin, the cold night stretched around her. Sudden uncertainties touched her thoughts. What if a cop idled through the parking lot? What if someone saw them? Various sounds pounded across her suddenly alert ears. Overhead, bats keened. Down below, people talked and muttered. Somewhere, in another building, music blared loudly.

  Despite the taste of uncertainty in her head, Miranda couldn't ignore the thrill. Nor could she ignore the shit-eating grin on Tyler's face. Her blush deepened as she glared at him. There was no way she was backing down. She sauntered across the balcony and leaned back against the railing. On the clear night air, she caught every slam of a car door and every giggle of her neighbors. Her heart thrummed harder as he sunk to his knees.

  Tyler knelt before Miranda, watching her expression carefully. She refused to look at him, which was all the better. Anyone peeping her would be suspicious if her gaze lingered on anything in front of her. His fingers went to her shorts, undoing the button and zipper. The daisy dukes slid down her hips and her ample thighs, revealing her commando pussy.

  Still swollen from excitement, Tyler almost felt bad for leaving her hanging. Almost. He nudged her legs further apart and leaned to her thigh. Kissing up her leg, Tyler could feel Miranda tense under his lips. Her toes curled while she felt her sex pulse in heady need. Her nails dug into the railing of the balcony, waiting for his lips to trail a little bit more northward.

  Her wait wasn't in vain. Tyler's tongue licked across her pussy before he caught her clit. With the gentlest of touches, he suckled and toyed her sensitive nub with his tongue. Miranda bit her lip as she swallowed down her groans of delight. Her muscles twitched and her core melted. Prickles and tingles rode up and down her body, exploding from the same focal point. Her breathing hitched and she felt like melting into the boards. Somewhere, a dog barked in the parking lot and someone masculine whooped. Her thighs clenched, both in terror and pleasure, and she resisted the urge to press her hand to Tyler's head.

  His lips curled into a smile against her pussy. Heat coiled around his
head and moved to his groin. His pants tightened with every muted moan and twitch Miranda gave him. In some ways, this was eons better than his desired hot wings. Miranda's musk enveloped him, driving his thoughts crazy. Stirred up hormones buzzed through his head. Her sex clenched, tighter and tighter, around his tongue as he delved into her.

  Very slightly, Miranda's breathing hitched hard. She panted quietly while staring at nothing off into the distance. Her thighs began to tremble. Her fingernails dug into the railing. Heat and pressure slammed against her barriers, demanding release. Her fuzzy pink thoughts turned hot and red. Satisfaction crested over her edge.

  She gasped, a moan tearing from her lips. She slapped a hand over her mouth and doubled over Tyler, her hand clenching at the back of his head. Her fingers dug into his scalp, pressing him flush to her quivering pussy. Tyler groaned against her quavering pussy, the taste of her coating his tongue. As she uncoiled from around him, he realized he still felt her heat. Intoxicated on everything about her, he leaned back and took a deep breath of cold evening air.

  Glancing up at her told Tyler everything he needed to know: She was completely satisfied. But, as her eyes flickered to his face, he knew it was only a temporary contentment. Heat and desire flamed behind her eyes. As he replaced the shorts on her hips, Tyler couldn't help his teasing inquiry, “Now, where are my hot wings, woman?”