“Sorry, Jenna, but I have to ticket you. We clocked you at fifty-five in a thirty-five mile an hour zone.” He scratched his forehead. “Just ’cause I like you doesn’t mean I can bend the rules. You know that.”
She did. She’d done enough rule-bending in her life to know that it would someday catch up to her.
“And you might want to stay off that phone.” He nodded to it in her lap. She’d been getting Bryan’s voicemail the entire drive. “If I’d caught you on it, that’d be another ticket since it’s against the law to be talking on a phone while driving unless it’s hands-free.”
It wasn’t and he knew it. She had a feeling he also knew that she’d been on it the whole way, too. He wouldn’t know why and she didn’t really think telling him that she’d let Bryan, her child’s father, the one who’d accused her of prostitution and now had their son at a strip club, babysit Trevor and practically kidnap him without telling her where he was going. Sarge loved Trevor too much for her to worry or anger him like she was.
She thanked him—which made no sense given that this traffic stop was going to cost her a hundred and fifty bucks—and stuck to the speed limit the rest of the way to BeefCake, Inc.
Dear God, Bryan had their son at a strip club. Trevor was going to be scarred for life.
She parked the car next to Bryan’s. They were here, thank God.
She ran to the front door.
It was locked.
Locked?
She dialed Bryan’s number again.
He didn’t answer again.
What the hell was wrong with him?
She ran around back, trying to peer in through the frosted windows that prevented people from getting a free show, but she couldn’t even see a light on inside.
Where was he?
She ran around to the back entrance. If that didn’t work, she’d take the fire escape stairwell up to the apartment and try to get in that way.
Luckily, the back door was unlocked.
A light from one of the rooms off the back corridor lit it enough for her to see and she headed that way.
Bryan’s Domain was on a plaque by the door. She peeked inside. A desk covered in paperwork, a sofa covered in costumes, more costumes hanging from pegs on the wall—including her Marilyn Monroe dress—a computer monitor with a rotating screen saver, but no Bryan.
She walked toward the dressing room she’d shared with the other dancers. Dark.
The kitchen was dark, too, so Jenna headed to the stage door entrance into the club.
Low lights lit her way as she climbed the stairs backstage like when she’d danced the other night, and a soft glow beyond the curtain gave her hope that someone was here. Part of her wanted it to be Bryan and Trevor and the other part wanted to believe he’d never bring their son there.
And then the music started, soft, low, seductive… Was Bryan actually letting their son listen to this? It sounded like liquid sex.
She took a deep breath, not wanting to rant at Bryan in front of Trevor, and walked across the stage to feel for the opening in the center of the curtain.
“Who’s there?” Bryan’s voice cut through the sensual melody.
Jenna found the opening. “It’s me,” she said just as the stage lights came on, blinding her.
“Jenna?” Bryan leapt onto the stage. “What are you doing here?”
She put a hand up to keep the lights out of her eyes. She’d forgotten how bright they were. “Where’s Trevor? I got home and no one was there. Your mom said you were here.” She looked around, but couldn’t see anything beyond the lights. “Where is he?”
“Upstairs. You didn’t get my voice mail?”
“My phone died and I’ve been checking the entire drive here. There’s no voice mail.”
“It must not have transferred with your battery dying. I called you over five hours ago to let you know he’d be here.”
“Why is he here? What could possibly make you bring him to a strip club?”
“Something came up and I had to close tonight for Gage, so I figured I’d put Trev to bed here rather than have to wake him up from my mom’s in the middle of the night to take him home. I was planning to stay with him upstairs and bring him home in the morning. That’s okay, isn’t it?”
The whole time they were talking, Bryan’s hands were roaming over her. First her shoulders, then brushing some hair off her face; he even shielded her eyes from the lights, moving closer with each motion, his eyes studying her, his fingers tracing her features, and drawing her closer, his body—and now hers—swaying to the beat of the soft music.
She was having trouble concentrating. “He’s here? Asleep?”
Bryan moved a step closer. “Uh huh. Upstairs. Sound asleep. With Mr. Monkey and the blue bear as bedmates.”
“Bryan.”
“What?” He trailed his fingertips up her arm.
“I meant, the bear’s name is Bryan.”
“Lucky bear.” His fingertips curved over her shoulder then headed south, trailing all sorts of fire in their wake.
“Arrogant.” With good reason. The man could turn her on like no one else.
“I meant that that Bryan has a bedmate.” He took another step closer until there were no more steps to take. “I’m hoping this Bryan will be as lucky.”
And then he was kissing her.
Right there, in the lights, on the stage, dancing as a couple, their bodies in perfect rhythm, knowing each other’s movements instinctively.
Just like they had last night.
“Mmm, you smell nice,” he whispered as he nuzzled her neck. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” She couldn’t not say it when he was doing such delicious things to her nerve endings since it was true.
“Have fun?”
Not as much fun as this… “It was nice.”
His lips were sending shivers all over her body just by nuzzling her earlobe.
“You’re nice.” He caught her earlobe between his teeth.
Jenna shivered, sparks zinging through her body. This was so much more than nice. It was sexy and sensual and driving her nuts. Last night hadn’t been enough. She’d never have enough of Bryan.
She wrapped her arms around him and held on tight, sliding against him in time to the music, remembering what it’d been like here on this stage, in the hot lights, the music infusing her body with a sensuality she hadn’t known she’d possessed and she felt it again.
He grabbed her hips and tucked her up against him, the music affecting him—physically—as much as it did her.
He kissed her lips, sucking them like he had her breast last night, and Jenna moaned. She wanted him.
“I want you,” he growled against her lips, yanking her hips even closer as if there were any doubt of how much he wanted her.
He slid his hands beneath her shirt, his fingers trailing heat wherever they touched. He cupped her, his thumbs caressing her nipples and Jenna reveled in the sensation. “Yes, Bryan, touch me.”
Thank God they were alone here, on the stage, in these lights, in this club because Jenna didn’t know if she could stop. It was the sweetest feeling imaginable, so hot and heady, being wanted by Bryan. Desired by him. He ran his hands back down her sides, following the curve of her waist, and curving over her hips to cup her backside, and she gasped into his mouth as he kissed her, hot, and open-mouthed, his pelvis thrusting against her.
“Here, Jenna.” He growled. “I want you here.”
“Here?” She gasped when his lips left hers to slide down her neck and over her collarbone, all the while undoing the buttons on her shirt.
And then he separated her lapels and kissed down between her breasts, undoing the clasp of her bra with his teeth.
His teeth.
That was when her knees gave out. Thankfully, he held her, but only long enough to lower her to the stage floor.
“Here.” He laid on top of her, bracing his weight on his elbows, his thighs around hers, and Jenna didn
’t care where they were so long as he didn’t leave her.
“Yes, Bryan.”
It was all he’d been waiting to hear.
Bryan wouldn’t have believed he could want her this much. He would have thought nothing could surpass last night, but now tonight, this, did. He wanted her with a fierceness that almost scared him. She was his. That little boy upstairs was his. They were his. This family was his.
He bared her breasts. She was so pretty. So perky and pouty and waiting just for him.
So he took. He took one sweet perfect breast in his mouth and tasted the essence of Jenna. Some other scent, floral or fruity, mingled there, but nothing would ever mask who she was from him.
She arched against him, her pelvis hitting him right where he wanted it to, but it was too soon. They had all night; no one would be at the club and he didn’t want to waste the time going anywhere else.
Thank God, he’d had the foresight to put some condoms in his pocket.
“I want you, Bryan,” Jenna whispered when he moved to her other breast.
He looked up, resting his chin on that sweet flesh. “You can’t want me anywhere nearly as much as I want you, Jenna. I feel like I’ve been waiting for you my entire life.” Yes, he laid himself bare with that comment, but his feelings were already there and if he didn’t tell her, didn’t take the chance, he’d never know.
“But I do, Bryan.” She ran a hand over his hair then traced his lips with them.
He kissed them.
“I want you so very much. Make love to me,” she whispered, her voice as shaky as he felt.
“It will be my pleasure.” And it would.
So he did.
He worshipped every inch of her body there, on that stage, the lights hiding nothing from each other, bodies bared to each other, eyes open, souls…
Souls shared as each movement, each touch was fraught with meaning. Each stroke so very personal and so very necessary.
He ran his palm over her belly where she’d carried their son. Not a stretch mark on her, though it wouldn’t have mattered if she’d had thousands. He’d kiss each and every one and be thankful for all they represented.
The concave hollow of her hips, too, showed no sign of her pregnancy, but then, her mother was trim. Good genes. And good jeans, too. He smiled as he kissed her navel. Jenna looked good in anything and nothing.
He kissed lower, loving the feel and scent and taste of her in his mouth. Loved watching her climb the heights, her legs clamping around him, loved watching her rock against him as the sensations overwhelmed her, and he loved that soft smile when he kissed her at the end, that soft sweet smile that said he’d given her pleasure.
He grabbed a condom from his discarded pants, sheathed himself, then laid beside her on the stage, feeling her body recover from the ride he’d just taken her on, and he wanted more. He’d never get enough of Jenna. “We should go upstairs. I can’t do to you what I want without hurting your back on this floor.”
“And what do you want to do to me?” She rolled over and nipped his jaw.
“Ah, Jen… So much, sweetheart. I want to be inside you so deep and so long that you’ll never remember what it was like without me there. That you’ll never want to know what it’s like. I want you, baby. Forever.”
A tear slipped from the coroner of her eye.
Shit. Too much too soon.
He wiped it away. “Hey, no pressure. Please don’t cry. I’ll wait. I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”
“It’s not that…” She shook her head and bit her lip.
Then she grabbed his face and kissed him. Hard. Demanding. Forceful.
And then she rolled herself on top of him and lifted her hips and took him inside her body.
It was heaven. He’d died and gone right to heaven with no idea what he’d done to deserve such a reward but when she moved on him, he didn’t care. He gripped those supple hips and held her above him and plunged into her.
“That’s it, Bryan, take me.” She had her hands on the floor by his head, her fingers catching some of his hair and he couldn’t move his head.
Not that he needed to. He worked her up and down on top of him, the slick wet heat of her body driving him on, in and out, over and over, as if he were searching desperately for something that only she could provide.
She arched against him, her breasts right in front of him and Bryan tore his hair from her fingers as he surged forward, taking one sweet breast into his mouth, sucking it awhile he worked her down onto him.
Then somehow they were sitting and she was on her knees, taking him into her to the hilt, her thighs stroking his sides as she moved on him, driving him crazy with need and want and desire, the feelings coiling in his balls and threatening to shoot up through her like a rocket.
“Come for me, Bryan,” she panted in his ear as she swirled her tongue around it.
Bryan slid a hand between then, finding that tight bundle of nerves that would take her over the edge. If he were going to go, he wanted her with him.
Jenna leaned back when he touched her, her breasts still within kissing distance, but her eyes… she was watching him with those gorgeous blue eyes and Bryan ever so slowly, bent forward to take her nipple in his mouth.
He flicked the tip gently—in time with the motion he was doing between her legs.
“Oh my God,” she breathed, her moist lips parting, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.
“Like that?”
She couldn’t answer. She bit her lip and nodded, and her inner muscles clenched him.
Bryan drew in a ragged breath. God, yes, that felt so damn good.
He did it again.
So did she.
And again. And again.
Until soon, there was no conscious thought, there was no waiting for her reaction, but rather, it was both of them reacting. Both of them wanting.
Jenna cradled his head as he sucked on her breast and she tightened her muscles around him as she slid down, then tightened them again as she slid up, releasing all but the tip before sliding back down, and the rhythm kept increasing, their cries of pleasure getting louder , the sound of their flesh meeting quicker, and Bryan felt the end begin. Felt it coil inside him until he couldn’t hold it off, and he spread his hand low on her back, working her onto him grinding her against him, his other hand working between them to bring her to the same point, and then suddenly, they were there.
Jenna cried out his name and gripped him as the waves of passion spasmed through her, milking that very same passion from him, and in a blinding rush, Bryan felt all that desire, all that want and need and all that was in him for her, spill out into her—metaphorically thanks to the condom—and he shouted out her name. Claimed her.
She was his. Finally and completely, as sure as he knew they were there on that stage together, he knew that she was his.
And then the condom broke.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jenna never scrambled so fast in her life. The high of orgasm one minute and the crashing reality of her thighs dripping with Bryan’s semen.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” She grabbed her pants—underwear—whatever—and tried to wipe it away.
On your legs isn’t the problem, Jenna.
Yes, she realized that, thankyouverymuch, but short of a turkey baster, there wasn’t anything she could do…
Jenna sank to the stage, her legs giving out with that realization. One. It only took one. One tiny little strong swimmer and her life would be changed forever.
“Jenna.”
Though it already had been.
She looked at Bryan. He was sitting there, rolled onto his hip, his one hand supporting him, the other resting across the knee he had propped up in all his naked glory. And it was glorious. Except for the remnants of the condom on his…
“What are we going to do?”
“It’ll be okay, Jenna.” He reached for her hand.
“Okay? Bryan, in case it’s e
scaped your notice…” She pointed to his groin. “You are batting oh-for-two in the condom department. How can that be okay?”
He looked down and released her hand to remove the three percent statistic she’d never wanted to see evidence of.
But then, she already had the evidence, didn’t she? She was raising that evidence. Tucking him into bed at night.
Bryan sat up then, cross-legged, and grabbed his t-shirt to toss over his groin. “I know it’s not optimal, but if it happens, I’m okay with it, Jenna. I’m sticking around and I’ll love a new baby just as much as I already love Trevor.” He took her hand in his. “You won’t have to go through it alone this time.”
Oh God, a baby with Bryan. It was everything Jenna could ever want and her biggest nightmare all tied up in one. She couldn’t keep the pretense going through an actual pregnancy. She couldn’t pretend she’d gone through it already when he’d want to come to every doctor’s appointment, every sonogram, every Lamaze class, and the delivery.
He’d know.
Too late now, sweetheart, her conscience mocked.
No it wasn’t. She could run out to the closest all-night pharmacy and get the morning after pill…
But she wouldn’t.
Her hand went to her abdomen. If they had created a child, she wouldn’t get rid of it. And not because it would be Bryan’s, but because it would be hers. This one would be the one she’d decide to keep. No one else. Not her mother, not Bryan, and not some dumb drunk driver who should never have been behind the wheel, ruining and ending other people’s lives. This child would be hers.
“Jenna? You okay?”
Bryan got to his feet and his voice pulled her out from that dark, intense moment, and she uncurled her fingers that had curled into her stomach protectively. “Um, yes. Sure. I’m fine.”
And she was. Jenna let her hand drop to her side, standing there, naked, exposed, and she was fine. If they’d made a child, she would deal with it. Just like Mindy had.
And by the same man.
The irony was… well, ironic. What were the chances of her making a child with Trevor’s father? It couldn’t really happen, could it? God, the Universe, Karma, they couldn’t all have that same twisted sense of humor. One surprise child in Bryan’s world was enough.
Beefcake & Mistakes Page 22
