by Megan Ziese
Nigel pulled Sera close as the next song started, a slow song. The lights dimmed.
Sera breathed in the intoxicating male scent of him. She couldn’t help the pleasurable sigh that escaped her lips. He was so damn hot. He didn’t even try. But, then again, her raging hormones wouldn’t let her ignore the intense pheromones he was putting off. She tried to tell herself that if she wasn’t inhibited by her now crazed sexual state, she wouldn’t have been nearly as attracted to him as she was, but she knew she was lying to herself.
She wanted this man as she had never wanted any before, and she knew she’d never want another man the way she wanted him. If only he felt the same way. If only he wasn’t so damned full of his honor that made him blind to her as a woman and made her just the mother of his children. She knew that was the only reason he was involving himself with her. And, after she had the babies, he would only want them. He wouldn’t want anything to do with her. It was terrible of her to be irritated about that. She should be deliriously happy he wanted to be there for the babies. If he wasn’t that interested in her, it shouldn’t matter. They could have a civilized relationship where they both supported the children, an arrangement that suited both of them in a completely non-intimate couple sort of way. But, she realized, that wasn’t what she wanted anymore. She wanted more, much more.
The song ended. She was immediately disappointed. She’d been enjoying having him hold her so close. It felt almost like he wanted her, like he needed her in his arms. It felt so right to be there, pressed tight against his chest, right next to his heart. She thought she could dance with him all night. But he’d broken the spell by moving away. She looked at his face. He wasn’t nearly the raging beast he’d been minutes before. That was a relief at least.
“We’re leaving.”
Sera was more than a little irritated that he hadn’t asked, he merely said it like she didn’t have a choice in the matter. She planted her feet and crossed her arms, giving him her fiercest look.
Nigel took one look at her and smiled.
“Do you think I can’t take you by force?”
Sera didn’t say anything, she simply dared him to try it with her eyes.
“So be it,” Nigel said right before he bent down and scooped her into his arms.
Sera started beating him on the chest.
“Put me down. I’m not ready to leave.”
“I’m taking you home.”
Realizing that beating on him was not affecting him at all and that it was a lost cause, she looked back at the table where her friends were still seated and waved goodbye. She could see that they were all wildly excited that Nigel was carrying her away. She’d told them about her situation with Nigel, about how she’d met his mother and decided to be the surrogate for his child and then he’d shown up and thrown all her plans for a loop. They’d thought it was so romantic the way he wanted to be a father to the babies, the way he wanted her. She tried to tell them that he was only interested in her because she was pregnant with his children, but they’d given each other looks as if they knew better. It had irritated her. She knew the truth. He’d never claimed to love her. He’d only proposed because he’d felt duty bound to do it.
Nigel carried her out into the parking lot and then set her on her feet.
“Now, are you going to walk or am I going to have to take you to the car myself.”
Sera gave him another scowl but relented.
“I can manage on my own two feet, thank you.”
Just then, they both heard the clink of beer bottles behind them, as if they’d been kicked together and had rolled over the gravel in the parking lot. It drew their attention.
From out of the shadows of the building behind them came Tom.
“Big man, are you? Think you can just take what you want? Well, we’ll just see about that.”
Tom came up to Sera so fast she didn’t have time to react. He grabbed her and twisted her around so that her back was pressed against his chest. He had one arm tight around her, effectively pinning her arms to her sides.
Nigel moved to grab Tom but stopped when he saw him pull a switchblade out of his pocket. Cowardly bastard! He’d been waiting for them in the parking lot. And instead of taking his quarrel out with him, he’d been a snake and grabbed Sera. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. He had to get that bastard off of her before she got hurt. He was going to have to distract him. But how?
Sera struggled to get free until she felt cold metal pressed against her throat. She went perfectly still, scared that if she moved Tom might pierce the skin of her neck by accident, afraid that if she put up any resistance he might slit her throat in a rage. The man was obviously drunk and more than dangerous.
Sera looked at Nigel. She knew that fear was written all over her face. She could hardly breathe she was so scared. She didn’t know what to do. She was pregnant. If something happened to her, then she didn’t want to think about what would happen to the babies. But, if Nigel tried to save her, he could get hurt, and she didn’t want that either.
“Let her go,” Nigel said in a menacing voice.
“Now why would I want to do that?” Tom said, sliding the flat part of the blade up and down Sera’s throat. “I have the upper hand here. I have the woman. I have the knife. No, I don’t think I’ll let her go. I think I’m going to fuck her right here and now in front of you while you watch. And, if you try to stop me, I’m going to cut her.”
Sera was horrified. She was going to get raped. And she couldn’t do anything about it. She couldn’t believe she was in this situation. Her mind raced as she tried to think of what to do, how she might possibly get away from this maniac. But with the knife at her throat, she knew that she had no choice at all, she couldn’t do anything without endangering her life.
“You don’t want to do that?” Nigel growled.
“Sure I do. And I’m going to love every minute of it.” He pulled Sera over to a car and pushed her front down hard against the hood of it, effectively bending her over to that his hips were positioned at her ass. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’m not going to be too fast. I’m going to take my time. And you’re going to love every minute of it.”
Sera couldn’t help the whimper of fear that escaped as she felt the knife tight against her throat, as she felt his other hand pulling up the hem of her dress.
But then, she heard a grunt and she didn’t feel Tom or the knife anymore.
She turned her head to the side and saw that Nigel had tackled Tom and was wrestling with him for the knife on the ground. Tom slashed at the exposed skin of Nigel’s arm.
Sera screamed when she saw that Nigel had been cut and blood was racing down his arm. She started crying. “Oh my god. Nigel! Please. I don’t want you to die!”
Nigel finally wrenched the knife out of Tom’s sweaty grasp and threw it in the parking lot. He started punching Tom in the face, over and over again until Tom finally went quiet. He got up and dusted off his pants. He was covered with sweat, blood, and dirt, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was that Sera was okay.
He turned to find her and she ran into his arms, holding him tight around the waist, sobbing uncontrollably now.
“Shh. Shh. Everything’s okay,” he said reassuringly, stroking her hair. “You’re safe now. You’re alright. I wasn’t going to let him hurt you.”
Sera cried even harder. She’d been so afraid, afraid for herself, afraid for the babies, afraid that Nigel might get killed and never see his children. She pulled away and examined the cut on his arm that was still bleeding profusely.
“You’re cut! We need to stop the bleeding!”
Nigel looked down at his arm. “I’m just fine. It’s just a scratch. But, there is something I need to do. First,” he bent down and kissed her hard on the lips, effectively halting her tears. He pulled away and smiled down at her, wiping away the streams of tears from her pale cheeks. “Now,” he said and moved away from her to where Tom was still lying on the dirt and gravel of
the parking lot. He took off his tank top and then rolled Tom onto his belly. He pulled his arms behind his back and tied them together with his shirt. “That ought to hold him until the cops get here.”
He got up and turned to Sera, “Give me your cell so I can call the cops.”
Sera reached for her belt purse, which was only big enough to hold her phone a little bit of cash. She unsnapped it and took out her phone, handing it to Nigel.
Nigel immediately dialed 911.
“Yes, my name is Nigel Savage, and I’m a former marine. Me and my woman were just attacked by a man in the parking lot of Fantasia. He pulled a knife on her, but I took it away, and we fought for a little while before I managed to subdue him. I’ve tied him up with a shirt. He’s still unconscious, but it probably won’t be for long. There’s security cameras monitoring the lot if you need any evidence against him.” With that said, he hung up the phone and handed it back to Sera. “The cops will be here in a minute to pick him up. Let’s go.” He grabbed her and pulled her tight against him for another second in a reassuring hug before walking her to her side of the car and opening the door for her.
Sera was glad that her friends had come by and picked her up instead of her driving herself to the club. She didn’t think after the night’s ordeal that she could have driven herself anywhere. She looked over at Nigel as he got into the driver’s seat. He was so calm and cool and collect. Of course, he’d probably seen a lot of action in the military. Fighting was nothing new to him. He’d probably reacted just out of instinct rather than out of the urge to protect her.
He drove her to her house. Getting out, he went over to the passenger’s side of the car and took her out, throwing her up into his arms.
She didn’t say anything, just put her arms around his neck and held tightly to his chest. She needed this. She needed the comfort he could provide tonight. She’d been through something traumatic, and she needed reassurance that everything was going to be alright. Nigel could give her that.
She took out the key and handed it to him when he reached her front door.
In seconds, they were inside. He shut and locked the door and carried her swiftly to her bedroom where he placed her on the bed and immediately undressed them.
Her awareness of his hungry gaze sent a little thrill of excitement through her. It jolted her pulse up a notch higher even before her reached out and placed a hand on the upper slope of one breast and traced a slow path downward, over her breast, along her rib cage and belly, down one thigh and then up again to cup her sex. She was already damp when he insinuated his hand between her thighs and traced her cleft with one fingertip.
His hands were big, hard, rough from being in the military so long. The faint abrasion of his touch along her body brought every nerve ending in her skin tingling to life.
Placing her hands on his shoulders to keep her balance, she closed her eyes, focusing on his touch.
He shifted, moving a little closer to the foot of the bed where she stood on her knees, still too far away for their flesh to brush together, but close enough the heat radiating from his body covered her like a foggy haze, raising her own temperature.
The scent of soap assailed her nostrils as he moved closer. Heated by his body, his own personal scent emerged from his pores to mingle with the smell of soap. The combination of smells that created a scent that was distinctly him and no other sent a fresh rush of pleasure along her olfactory senses to mingle with the sensations gathering from his touch.
Her heart sped, began to drum in her ears. She heard the rasp of her breath, little gasps each time he touched a particularly sensitive point, little pants of anticipation as his exploration continued in search of others.
With an effort, she lifted her eyelids a fraction, succumbing to the need to explore his body, to feel him beneath her own palms. His skin was warm, smooth. Her palms skated from his shoulders to the swell of his pecs. Taut muscle lay just beneath the surface, adding yet another pleasing dimension. His nipples grew taut beneath her palms as she rubbed her palms over them. Curling her fingers, she flicked the tight little buds with her nails, and then lightly raked her nails over the ridges of muscle between his pecs and his abdomen.
The spackling of hair on the curves of his pectoral muscles flowed together above his breast bone, forming a trail that collected and formed a pool below his navel. His cock jutted from that little tide pool of wavy, dark hair, long, so thick that when she curled her fingers around it they failed to meet. It bucked in her hand as she closed her fingers around it, like a wild stallion daring her to ride it, and she smiled a pleased smile at the erotic picture that formed in her mind’s eye. Lifting her gaze to meet his, she stroked his length, enjoying the silkiness of the skin that sheathed the engorged flesh beneath.
His eyes were closed, his face contorted in an agony of pleasure, but as if he sensed her gaze, he opened his eyes slowly, shifted closer, slipping his hands around her waist, to cup a buttock in each palm, kneading them in a way that sent shivers of delight through her.
Her fingers tightened around him, kneading his cock. She swayed slightly. The movement brushed her distended nipples against his chest and the abrasion sent tiny shock waves of pleasurable sensation through her breasts, making her belly clench.
Releasing his cock, she slipped her arms around him to cup his taut, round buttocks.
Abruptly, he caught her shoulders and gave her a shove that overbalanced her. She fell back onto the bed with a slight bounce, looking up at him in surprise.
Smiling faintly, he grasped her ankles and dragged her toward him until the bottom curve of her buttocks bumped his thighs. He leaned over her then, grasping a wrist in each hand, manacling them to the bed on either side of her head as he leaned closer still. Nuzzling her neck, he lifted his head to nip the tip of her nose, and then nibble her lips, sucking first the upper lip, then the lower before he covered her mouth with his and thrust his tongue into her mouth.
The heat that had been seeping slowly, insidiously through her with his leisurely caresses, became a conflagration the moment his tongue breached her, washing over her in a tidal wave of sensation as his heat, taste, scent enveloped her. Her clit and her nipples began to throb almost painfully now for with need, sending little quakes through her. She struggled to free her wrists and, when he released her, ran her fingers along his back, cupped his buttocks.
His cock nestled in her cleft, bumping the bud of her clitoris, slipping away, nudging her again. She lifted her legs, hooking her heels on the foot of the bed, lifting up to rub that aching part of herself along his hard length. She was panting for breath when he released her lips at last.
Gasping hoarsely, he nudged her throat again, moved down, caught one nipple in his mouth and sucked it so hard her back came off the bed. She whimpered with need, thrust her other breast at him as he released the first. He ran his tongue around the swollen bud teasingly and finally covered it with his mouth.
No longer satisfied with rubbing her clitoris against his shaft, she reached for it blindly, caught hold of his cock, massaging it, guiding it. He nudged her opening, pulled back, gliding through her cleft once more and spread her creamy need along her cleft, coating his shaft with it before he forced the head of his cock into her opening once more.
Groaning, she lifted up, tried to push her body downward over his cock. His position prevented more than teasing contact, minimal penetration.
Frustrated, she grasped his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh sharply enough to penetrate his haze of lust. Grasping her hips, he lifted her high enough to implant the head of his cock firmly in her opening then shoved her up the bed, following her. Catching a calf in either hand, he bent her almost double and pumped his hips, working his cock a little deeper with each thrust, gaining ground inch by agonizing inch until his cock was fully sheathed in her hot, moist passage.
Sweat dampened their skin from the struggle. He leaned over her, gasping, gathering himself. She waited in heart thund
ering anticipation, feeling the muscles of her passage adjust to him, clinging wetly.
He pulled away slowly, his cock rubbing the length of her sensitive passage. Sensation vibrated through her as he pushed inside her again, withdrew, pressed into her, slowly building momentum, friction, heat, sensation.
The movement of his cock along her channel built a delightful tension inside of her that tightened with each stroke until finally it reached snapping point. Pleasure ballooned inside of her, expanding outward even to her fingertips. Her groan of release reached crescendo in a high pitched cry of delight as her body spasmed with ecstasy, tightening convulsively around his cock as it jerked, bucked and spewed his seed inside of her in a hot tide with his own release.
Afterwards, when their bodies had cooled down, Sera realized it was time to ask Nigel to leave. She wasn’t entirely certain how she should put it, but she decided being delicate and skirting the issue wouldn’t work.
“Well, I really enjoyed that, Nigel. Now I’ve got to be getting some sleep. Lock the door on the way out, please.”
Nigel, who’d been thoroughly enjoying his post-coital bliss, suddenly became pissed off. They’d only just finished having sex and she was already asking him to leave. Had it meant nothing to her? Obviously she felt it meant nothing to him, judging by her attitude. Thoroughly frustrated, he didn’t know what he was going to have to do to convince her that they should be together. If nothing else, she should want to be together because the sex was so mind blowing. But then worry began to set in. Perhaps it wasn’t as good for her as it was for him? That couldn’t be right. He knew she’d enjoyed it just as much as he had. If she hadn’t, she wouldn’t make all of those noises that drove him crazy.
Instead of arguing with her, he got up and threw on his clothes and left.
Sera breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Nigel lock and then shut her front door. This was how it had to be. She couldn’t let herself get attached. It would all work out better this way. She’d already made the mistake of having sex with him, over and over again. She couldn’t let herself become more vulnerable, she couldn’t let him tear down all the defenses she’d worked so hard erect. She was going to have to stay strong, independent, and stick to her original plan.
