Alton's Secret Baby

by Iris Parker

  “It’s part of that big project I told you about. The publicity stunt and all that,” I said carefully. I shared almost everything with my mother, but she didn’t know anything about Alton. Not who he was, his relationship with Ezra, or anything else.

  I intended to keep it that way.

  “It’s just for the weekend,” I added quickly, before she could ask anything further.

  “So I’ll see you on Monday?”

  “Probably, if not sooner. Thank you again for taking care of Ezra while I wrap this up,” I said, guilt stabbing through my heart. “Please give him the biggest hug, and tell him I’ll be back soon. I can’t wait to see him.” I knew he’d probably be asleep by the time I got back, but I’d rush to the hospital all the same.

  If only for a chance to see him resting in relative peace.

  “Of course,” my mother said softly. “And in the meanwhile, you try to enjoy your trip. It’s important to take care of yourself, too, you know. This last year has been horrendous, and if this is your only chance to get a little rest in, please do it. The opportunity might not come again for a long, long time.”

  “I can’t rest, I’m working.”

  “In Atlantic City! Do they have the same saying there as in Vegas?” she asked, and I couldn’t help but smirk. I didn’t know, but I sure hoped they did. It would certainly come in handy.

  Reassured that nothing terrible had happened while I was gone, we said goodbye and hung up. A wave of relief washed over me, and I let out a long breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding. Leaving Ezra in my mom's care almost every day since the cancer diagnosis had been hard enough, even on those rare few good days. There’d been more than one occasion where I’d canceled on work, leaving me trapped in an impossible paradox.

  Did I stay by Ezra’s side, but become unable to provide for him financially?

  Or did I continue working, raising money to pay for medical bills and not be there for my son when he needed me most?

  I’d often chosen the second option with a heavy heart, not that I had much choice. The bills just kept piling up, and it was all I could do to ensure he got the best treatment. The way things were going, Ezra might not have a home to return to, but as long as he got through this, none of that mattered.

  At least he was with my mom. The worry never left, but I knew he was well-tended to. Today felt extra special, though, since he was actually doing well. His prognosis wasn’t great, but at least he wasn’t suffering.

  And today, I could pretend to live with that.

  “Our rooms are ready,” Alton said behind me. As I turned to face him, I noticed how tired he looked.

  “You look exhausted,” I said, reflexively brushing his cheek with the flat of my palm. He grabbed my hand, running his soft lips along the length of my fingers and pausing at the tender skin of my inner wrist. He might’ve been tired, but his eyes were still smoldering hot, and I felt like I was about to be eaten alive by a wolf. He pressed my hand and let it go, leaving me with a burning desire for more contact.

  “Come,” he grumbled as he headed towards the elevator, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh.

  “Wait. Did you say something about a spa?”

  “I did, there's a nice luxury spa in the hotel. Are you interested?”

  “I could use that, sure. And so could you,” I said, sliding my hand up his back and resting my palm on his shoulders. They felt rock hard, and I knew it was as much from tension as from being a muscular demigod.

  “Let's go, then,” he said as we headed to the spa.

  “Don't we need stuff?”

  “Stuff?”

  “Towels? A swimsuit?”

  “They'll take care of everything,” he said with a smile that grew more and more mischievous by the second. “Besides, I'm fine with seeing you naked.”

  Alton

  “What floor did you say?” Jessie's voice was drawling, and the soft laziness that had suddenly overtaken her words sounded deliciously suggestive in my ear.

  “Top floor,” I said, and laughed as her lips formed a perfect O of exaggerated surprise and approval. “Naturally,” I joked with a wink, my voice full of mock arrogance.

  Jessie’s laughter was crystalline and harmonious, filling me with the strong urge to sweep her into my arms and finally—finally!—get a taste of those lips.

  The lips that I’d been wondering about since I first laid eyes on her.

  The ones that I’d only just barely been able to stop myself from kissing, again and again, at least half a dozen times since we first arrived in Atlantic City.

  “Thank you for the spa,” she said as she leaned in closer, filling my nose with her sweet scent. “I hope you enjoyed it, too.”

  I nodded in agreement. I’d been a little unsure about it at first, like it would be some bastardized cross between an honest physiotherapy session from the Bruins and an illicit peak at a women’s retreat. I’d half expected the entire place to be nothing but frills and pink seashells but, the truth was, I probably wouldn’t have complained even then.

  Jessie’s soft little moans from the massage room would’ve made any number of seashells worthwhile.

  Not to mention her interesting chatter as she sipped on various green teas in the luxurious waiting room, the two of us working hard to keep each other awake and in good company. The entire experience had won me over, and it had proven to be a delightful break from reality.

  I had particularly enjoyed watching the slow, subtle change in Jessie. Her demeanor had shifted slightly, the tired look on her face melting into mere sleepiness. From time to time I even lost sight of that haunted look in her eyes, or the enigmatic way she always looked happy and sad at the same time.

  After the spa treatment had finished, we’d trekked over to the adjoining bathhouse for a little fun. Not the kind of fun I normally had with a woman, but it was physical all the same. We’d explored the massive indoor pool that extended out onto a balcony, enjoying a brilliant view of the ocean as the chilly air contrasted with the warmer water.

  Jessie’s skin felt cool to the touch whenever she bumped into me. She looked embarrassed the first few times she brushed against me, but eventually she abandoned all pretense and just rested her body against mine, seeking my arms for warmth and comfort.

  Holding her left me breathless. It was exquisite, but terribly taxing on my nerves. And other parts of my body. I never thought I would be grateful for the torturous last hour of our drive, but as it turns out, it had actually been good practice for what was to come.

  Of course, unlike on the bike, we actually could’ve done something about it. Finding a private spot would’ve been easy, and Jessie certainly wasn’t signaling any reluctance to turn things physical. If she’d brushed against my cock then, maybe the afternoon would’ve gone very differently indeed.

  But in a twisted way, I was glad that it hadn’t. I wanted to savor this experience, to make it last as long as possible. Once we slept together I was sure that things would change, that I’d immediately lose all interest in her.

  I didn’t want that to happen just yet.

  Besides, it didn’t seem right. All that buildup and flirting and pressure and intense, mind-boggling desire—and for what? To bend her over in a hotel bathroom while both of us smelled like chlorine? No, that just didn’t seem right. Not with her.

  If I was only going to have sex with Jessie once, I might as well make damn sure it was the best sex of my life.

  And so I was relieved when we made it out of the bathhouse unscathed. I was grateful—maybe for the first time in my life—to have a hard-on that hadn’t been satisfied by the gorgeous woman who’d inspired it.

  We ended up browsing the hotel boutique sometime after that. I suggested that Jessie pick out a dress for herself, and somehow ended up with her picking a tuxedo for me as well.

  I still wasn’t quite sure how that had happened.

  Lack of blood flow to the brain, probably.

  Especially after
she’d come out in her new dress, a glittery silver thing that looked as if it had been tailored just for her—more specifically, tailored as an homage to her cleavage. I already knew she didn’t need much to look like a total knock-out, but damn if a good quality dress didn’t make her look even better.

  And I realized then that, somewhere along the way, I’d started wanting the best for her. What had begun with the best breakfast experience I knew became picking out the best clothes in the hotel, followed by an amazing lunch together. And while I’d assumed we would end up in a casino or two while we were here, I’d originally intended that we’d just hit up a few slot machines for the novelty of it. But suddenly I found myself wanting to give her even more, and so we found ourselves in exclusive back rooms and playing whatever was on offer.

  She’d complained about the money she was wasting, but hell, I didn’t care about that. It was my money to waste, and I had more than enough. An unforgettable day together was worth any price, as far as I was concerned.

  And she apparently agreed, since when I jokingly threatened to go back to the hotel so we could nap, the disappointed look on her face matched exactly how I felt on the subject.

  But damn she had looked good in that dress. She was sexier than any woman I’d ever met, and I’d met more than a few women. At the same time, Jessie’s freshness and aura of naïveté made her seem delightfully vulnerable—but yet at the same time, this was the same woman who’d put me through the wringer just yesterday. She’d gotten me to crack like an egg, making me spill more about myself than anyone had ever accomplished before.

  I was enthralled, I was intrigued, and I didn’t want the weekend to ever end. Jessie was a lethal combination of looks and attitude and wit, and I sure as hell wasn’t the only one who noticed.

  How the hell had she not dated much? The looks of hunger that random guys threw at her were overwhelming, filling me with the urge to punch them in the face and announce that she was all mine.

  I probably would have, too, except even I wasn’t dumb enough to think Jessie would be impressed with chest-thumping shenanigans like that.

  And that was another thing—when the hell did I become so damn aware of things? The more time I spent around Jessie, the more I was paying attention to myself and everything else. And it had started right from the beginning.

  Like that damn complexity that I’d picked up when we first met at the auction. Now that I’d gotten to know her better, I had a much better idea of what it was—sadness and worry, just barely contained. Sometimes, when she thought I wasn’t paying attention, she didn’t contain them at all.

  But I had been paying attention.

  All day.

  And it wasn’t just in her eyes, or even her face. There were little telltale signs in everything she did, from the way she spoke to her body language. It was in the way she’d wrap her arms around herself, almost like she needed a hug or to protect herself from something.

  It was in the way that even the most genuine of smiles never lasted long, vanishing as quickly as it had come.

  It was in the way that I’d seen how she really looked in the spa, and now I knew the difference. The way she seemed tired in ways that had nothing to do with missing sleep, the little hints of worry that made her crinkle her eyes any time I bought her something.

  Seeing her like that made my heart clench every time, but I could tell that this trip was doing her good. Those little telltale signs got fewer and weaker as time went on. By the time dinner was served and a bit of white wine was coursing through her veins, she’d been more relaxed.

  Downright flirty, even.

  The elevator pinged open as we finally reached the top floor, and seconds later we were standing outside my suite.

  “So what do you want to do tomorrow morning? They serve breakfast here, it’s delicious too. Or we could—”

  “Ed’s!” she chimed in almost immediately, her smile triumphant.

  I grinned.

  “Ed’s it is, then,” I replied, happy with her choice.

  Happy with her.

  “I’m already salivating at the idea of trying their French toast,” she said.

  “It’s amazing, believe me,” I agreed. “What else do you want to do?”

  Jessie’s face scrunched up a little in thought, almost imperceptible but yet still adorable. “Well,” she said after a moment. “Do we really have to decide now?”

  “No, we don’t,” I agreed. “But I thought it’d be good to have an idea before the morning rush.”

  “Well, we still have hours to go before morning. Or do you mean we’re parting now?” Jessie asked, drawing her lips together with a delicious pout. I wanted to kiss her hard, to lick those lips and feel her breasts come crashing down against my chest as I pulled off her top. I still wanted the weekend to last forever, but right at that moment, I wanted her to notice the raging erection she’d given me—the hundredth one today probably.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said, wrapping my arm around her and placing my hand on the small of her back. Jessie’s own hand went low, stopping short just inches away from my cock. I wanted to cry out in frustration, at least until I realized what she was doing.

  Jessie had slipped two of her fingers into my pocket, pulling them out slowly with the keycard to my room trapped between them. She lifted it up between us, gliding the bottom edge along the top of her breasts before slowly sliding it between them.

  “I told you what I want tomorrow morning,” she said breathlessly. “How about you tell me what you want tonight?”

  If this had been an ordinary date—if Jessie had been any other woman—that would’ve been the end of it. I would’ve snatched the key then and there, rushing into the room and maybe making it as far as the front couch before we went at it like rabbits.

  But that’s not how it went tonight.

  “I want to savor this,” I said, running one hand along her back as I bent down and kissed the top of her hand. With a sharp inhale, I reminded myself not to rush this. Then, in the slowest ten seconds of my life, I extracted the key from Jessie’s breasts and slid it into the lock with a flourish.

  Jessie swallowed hard—as hard as my heart was pounding—and we stepped inside together. Her eyes went wide as she looked around the suite for the first time, the surprise clear.

  “This is bigger than my apartment,” she said in disbelief. “And you got one of these for each of us?”

  I nodded. “It would’ve been awfully pushy if I’d only booked a single room for us, don’t you think?”

  “You actually thought about that?”

  “Of course,” I answered with a smile. “Feel free to order anything you want from room service, by the way,” I said, walking over to the phone myself to order a chilled bottle of Grand Cru white wine.

  “About that,” Jessie said, walking up to me. “Thank you for everything. The chance to stay here and the extravagant weekend. I don’t know how I could ever repay you for it.”

  “You already have, actually. I love coming here, but I haven’t enjoyed coming here this much since—well, ever, come to think of it,” I said in a hurry as I tried to prevent myself from blurting out that I knew how she could repay me.

  Jessie smiled, but the mention of money had clearly stressed her. All her earlier tension seemed to come flooding back, and her face was now much paler than it had been all day.

  I paused, wondering if her worry had been financial all along. Was it possible I could fix all her problems with the snap of my fingers, and I just hadn’t realized? Part of me wanted to ask and offer her money, but even I had more sense than that. Nothing would’ve ended this wonderful weekend faster, or on worse terms, than offering Jessie money immediately before having sex.

  Maybe tomorrow. Or next week, to make it clear the two things were unrelated. Or maybe—

  “Well, I think I know how to make tonight even better,” Jessie said, taking another seductive step forward. The myriad of questions in my head disappeare
d on the spot. Before I could utter a word, she’d hoisted herself on her toes. Trembling, her lips finally crashed onto mine, fulfilling every wish I had in the blink of an eye.

  Jessie

  My heart pounded in my chest so hard I thought I was going to be sick, and a flurry of emotions coursed through my veins, painful and destabilizing.

  What the hell was I doing? The small, hurt voice of my conscience kept screaming at me. I tried to convince myself it was just sex, that this was exactly the sort of thing Alton did every night. But deep down I knew it wasn't. I’d plotted and schemed, lying my way to Atlantic City just to seduce this man. Everything I’d done so far was nefarious and crooked, unreasonable to the very core.

  But I’d already wasted too much time trying to be reasonable.

  So I ran my hands up and down his strong, muscular shoulders, my fingers trembling uncontrollably as I slid my tongue past Alton's lips. It wasn't what I had planned. I'd wanted to play the part of the femme fatale, not giving a damn about the playboy I was about to sleep with.

  Except it wasn’t working, and I couldn’t help but care. Maybe that was just how I was, or maybe it was something about Alton that had drawn me in and made it impossible to use him so callously.

  Alton groaned, and his hot breath sent shivers across my electrified skin. I tried to regain control of myself, and persuade my brain that I had to do this, but all I could conjure up were images of sickness, betrayal, and death.

  But none of that was sexy, and for this plan to work I needed to stay in absolute control. The whole thing would fall apart in my hands if I started to crumble now.

  “Hey,” Alton’s voice seemed to come from the other room. But in reality, his lips were so close they almost brushed against mine as he spoke. His voice was coarse but reassuring, and I opened my eyes slowly and forced myself to look him over.

  His smile was soft and charming, even as glimmers of pure lust ignited his pupils. He was warmth and comfort, and I fervently wished that I could reach out and touch him purely for its own sake.