Shielding His Baby (Deuces Wild Book 3)

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Shielding His Baby (Deuces Wild Book 3) Page 16

by Taryn Quinn


  “She’s on the road plenty. She’ll be going out there again soon enough.” Cass sighed and tipped her head against Summer’s, ushering in another moment of silence. This one weighed heavily, fraught with poignant things unsaid.

  “It must be nice to have a close friend for so long.” Ang couldn’t keep the wistfulness out of her tone. “I met most of mine in college.”

  That was mostly by choice, since she’d grown apart from many of the people in her hometown. She tended to meet the social climbers and the boyfriend stealers. Sometimes both at once.

  “You only need a couple of good ones to make up for all the rest.” Summer finished slurping down her tea and slammed the delicate cup on the tray.

  Cass grimaced. “I agree with the sentiment, if not the delivery.”

  “Stop worrying. I didn’t crack the freaking china.” Summer rose and held out a hand to Ang. “Seriously, let’s go shopping. We’ll help you forget all about that guy.”

  “Which guy?” There were two men taking her attention at the moment, for very different reasons.

  “The one at the door.” Summer shuddered. “He gave me the creeps.”

  Ang glanced toward the front hall and the papers waiting for her there. She’d have to hide them well before she left the house. God forbid Sterling found them.

  Good luck at her hiding their existence from her thoughts. She had a feeling she’d be thinking of little else until the two weeks had passed. She still had no idea what direction to take. Her inclination was to sign the papers and run. But if her child begrudged her hasty action later, she’d pay the price. What was best for the baby mattered most.

  When Ang didn’t reply, Summer angled her head. “Did you think I meant Sterling?”

  It was Ang’s turn to sigh as she set aside her empty cup. Maybe she did like tea, surprisingly enough. “No. Not Sterling.”

  There weren’t enough stores in all of New York to make her forget. Maybe not even the world.

  Where on earth could she be?

  Sterling stopped pacing by the window only to pick up the glass of whiskey he’d poured sometime during hour three of waiting. Since he rarely drank, the alcohol was giving him a nice little buzz.

  A nice little buzz that wasn’t doing a damn thing to dull his worry.

  It wasn’t all that late. A quarter after nine wasn’t cause for alarm. But she hadn’t left him a note that she was going out, and they hadn’t exactly left things on the best of terms that morning. They’d barely spoken at all after yesterday’s sex fiasco.

  The sex itself hadn’t been a fiasco. Far from it. His realization of Ang’s identity as GothGeek and his subsequent reaction definitely qualified, however.

  She wasn’t working tonight. And she hadn’t replied to any of his e-mails after she’d sent over that incredibly alluring picture of her bare breasts, nipples hard and ready. She must’ve neglected to notice the faint bruise under one pink tip.

  The bruise from his teeth.

  Sterling groaned under his breath and, like the creeper he was, scrolled to the photo on his phone once more. He’d looked at it a hundred times already. She was so beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside her and make her cry out those dirty words that had made him so crazy the day before.

  He just wanted her, more than he’d ever wanted anyone.

  But she’d lied to him and, dammit, hurt him too. He didn’t understand why she’d developed an online persona and engaged him in a fake relationship. Did she find teasing him amusing? Was this all one big joke, with him as the punch line?

  Everyone knew he had issues with relationships. He’d royally bungled their first sexual encounter. So maybe this was her manner of payback. Turning him on before she turned him off for good.

  She slept with you. Gave you her body and her heart in her eyes every time you looked into them. What kind of game was that?

  He just didn’t know. None of this made sense. When she’d told him that morning that she didn’t want to be online friends anymore, he’d almost lost his mind. She brightened his days and made him laugh. He couldn’t give that part of her up, despite knowing who GothGeek truly was.

  Now that he knew, he craved GothGeek even more.

  And then he’d started sending her those pictures, anything to keep her from signing off for good. His cock bound up in his tie, for God’s sake. Rather than shutting down his libido, the photos had ramped it up to the point that he’d been tempted to take care of business in the bathroom at Deuces Wild.

  That wasn’t him. He didn’t take nude self-portraits. Didn’t use his tie for anything but its intended purpose. The idea of wrapping it around Ang’s delicate wrists before knotting it to his headboard was arousing. Stimulating.

  More than he could fucking take.

  He blew out a breath and looked at his watch again. Nine thirty. He’d called her cell three times and left voicemails twice. No response.

  Worrying about her was bad enough. Missing her squeezed his ribcage until he ran out of air.

  On a hunch, he’d asked Cass to spend some time at Mrs. Wilder’s instead of at Deuces Wild that morning. Cass’s ice cream shop, Triple Scoop, had been damaged by fire during an unfortunate incident with a mentally unstable woman earlier that summer, but the newly renovated shop would be opening up again next week. That meant Cass’s tenure as Deuces Wild’s receptionist would be coming to an end. While she still had free time, he’d asked her to stop by Jax’s mom’s place as often as she could to help keep an eye on Ang. After the fight with Pete, Sterling had temporarily called back Bob Collins, choosing once again to handle the physical legwork himself while Collins delved into more of Pete’s background.

  Sterling couldn’t be certain he wouldn’t kick Pete’s ass more thoroughly next time and it was better altogether if there weren’t too many witnesses. Besides, Pete had already made that crack about Sterling’s “goons.” If Pete had made Bob, he wasn’t any more helpful as a tail than Sterling.

  And if Pete noticed Sterling hanging around, even better. Discretion mattered little now. Maybe the little fucker would finally get the message to stop hassling Ang.

  Still, Sterling hated the idea of Ang being unprotected while he was at work. Enter Cass. She had taken the morning off from the bodyguard agency as requested, which had offered the unexpected side benefit of giving Sterling the freedom to take his explicit pictures. But if Cass had seen anything strange involving Pete or Ang, she hadn’t seen fit to inform Sterling. Or to answer his calls that afternoon.

  Apparently, everyone had decided en masse to ignore him.

  Sterling tossed back the last of his whiskey. Maybe he should tie Ang to his bed, nice and tight. At least he’d be able to keep his eye on her.

  And his mouth, and his hands, and his cock…

  The front door banged open and Sterling swiveled toward the hall, anticipation already lacing his gut. Ang strolled inside, carrying a shopping bag. She’d made it halfway to the stairs before she caught sight of him rotating his glass between his palms.

  She stilled. “Sterling.”

  “Angelina.”

  Her shoulders drooped and she tipped back her head to expose the long, pale line of her throat. Her lip piercing glinted dully in the hall light. “Have you been waiting up for me?”

  “What do you think?” His voice came out sharper than he’d intended.

  “I think I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

  “Where have you been?”

  “Out,” she snapped.

  Her temper kindled his, already banked and waiting. “I called you three times. Left two messages. Were you too busy to reply?”

  “I must’ve been or I would have. Now if you don’t mind—”

  “I damn well do mind.” He slammed his glass down on the side table, barely registering the way she braced as he stalked toward her. All he could focus on was his concern for her and that baby she carried, and how much he’d missed her. How he’d been missing her every day she
sat across from him at his own breakfast counter, getting further and further away with every awkward, stilted conversation they shared.

  He’d caused the first rift between them when he’d bent her over his guest bed and attempted to get her off with his fingers. She’d been the one to throw down the impetuous sex gauntlet, but he’d gotten onboard quick. Not that she knew that. Undoubtedly, his behavior had been inconsistent. Perhaps she didn’t believe he wanted her. He’d probably underscored her concerns by leaving her after they’d made love the previous afternoon.

  Hell, he was probably the reason she’d resorted to online flirtation in place of real-life interaction. She wasn’t a liar by nature, despite her recent pregnancy-related prevarications. But that was a special case. Normally she shot straight from the hip. Had he pushed her far enough that she’d decided to hide behind a screen?

  Bottom line, right now he didn’t care why she’d become GothGeek. No matter what crazy explanations he dreamed up, he didn’t believe deep down that she’d created her Sole Mate persona to be malicious. That wasn’t his Ang.

  This lapse on her part most likely had sprung from the series of lapses he’d made since he’d invited her into his home. Good intentions weren’t enough. Actions told the real story.

  Tonight he’d make up for those lapses with his body, in lieu of the words that wouldn’t come. She’d lied to him, over and over, but he would give her the truth of his need and force her to deal with it.

  With him.

  He stopped in front of her and fisted his hands at his sides. His injured knuckles screamed, but he didn’t loosen his fist. Losing control scared the hell out of him, especially when he suspected she craved its decimation. “I never wanted to take your choices away. That’s not who I am as a man or a lover.”

  “So you ask me what I want.” Chin raised, she held her ground. All fierce beauty, wrapped in a soft, alluring package. “Then be the man you say you are and stick around long enough to offer it.”

  Moving closer, he touched her cheek and fought every impulse that demanded he tear the bag from her hands and rip off her clothes. He wanted nothing more than to crush that smart mouth beneath his until she begged him to sate her, again and again.

  Like she had yesterday, before he’d run like a coward.

  He wasn’t running now.

  “I care about you. Not only are you pregnant, you’re my friend. You’re under my care.” His voice came out as a harsh whisper.

  “Oh, fuck that. Yes, I’m your friend. But you don’t need to handle me like I’ll shatter if you press too hard. Being pregnant doesn’t make me weak. I feel stronger than I ever have. More determined to get what the hell I want out of life. I’m not screwing around anymore.” She dropped her bag and bared her teeth. “If you think I’m some breakable piece of glass—”

  He slanted his mouth over hers, silencing both the words and her surprised gasp. His arm locked around her waist and he hauled her against him, dragging her straight off her feet. She made a noise against his lips, startled, aroused, and plunged her tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his. He bit down and she stilled in his hold, letting him know with her moan that she wasn’t turned off. Far from it. She rubbed her pelvis against his, over and over, building his desire until he grabbed hold of one of her wrists and backed her into the nearest wall. He held her wrist over her head, helpless to keep from pulling back to examine the picture she made bound in that superficial way.

  Full breasts straining, nipples beaded tight. Glazed, hungry eyes. Wet, pouty lips. And that slight swell of her belly under her top, as fascinating to him as all the rest.

  “Like what you see?” Challenge edged her tone, but beneath the question he heard the doubt that he’d fostered unintentionally.

  Bastard.

  “I fucking love it.” He dragged his fingertip down the center of her body, between her breasts, over the slope of her stomach. Lower to the juncture of her thighs. She shivered, straining the buttons of her white blouse. “You’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen.”

  She started to scoff and he went with instinct, twisting one of her erect nipples between finger and thumb. She yelped, going lax at once. So he soothed with a gentle stroke, unable to stifle his smile when she leaned closer, pushing more of her breast into his palm while that same needy expression returned to her eyes.

  “Tell me what you need, Ang. Don’t make me guess.”

  “I like it rough.” She sucked in a ragged breath. “I need it. Especially tonight. I want to feel everything.”

  Naturally when she said she needed it rough, he couldn’t help caressing every patch of her skin he could see. The inside of a rose wasn’t half as soft as the vee of skin near her throat, revealed by the open collar of her shirt. “Why especially tonight?”

  Her lashes swept down. “Don’t.”

  “You don’t want me to ask.”

  “No.” Her wrist flexed in his grip. “I want you to fuck me the way I see in your eyes that you want to. I want you to give me what we’re both craving.”

  “I’m afraid of hurting you. The baby…”

  “You care about this baby more than its father does. And if you think that’s going to shut me down, you’re sadly mistaken. I trust you, in every way.”

  He let out a shaky laugh. “You wouldn’t if you knew what I was imagining doing to you.” She’d unlocked a secret vault inside him, so secret he hadn’t known it existed. Every lurid scene inside his head featured Ang. She costarred in every experience he ached to share.

  “Show me. Don’t make me guess,” she whispered.

  The part of him that rationalized and compartmentalized all aspects of his life wanted to set out guidelines to make sure she wouldn’t be frightened. To map out every moment to give her exactly what she expected. But she didn’t want his planner side tonight.

  He didn’t want it either.

  Turning his palm over, he held out his hand. When she balked, he shook his head. “If you think I’m going to take you up against this wall, you’re sadly mistaken.”

  “But I want—”

  He brushed his lips over her cheek to her ear, pausing to give the lobe a sharp bite. “And I want you in my bed.”

  Her shudder moved through him like lava, hot and all-encompassing. She shifted her head and met his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Yes what?” He was testing them both. They’d stumbled into a new world together, and just because she’d explored before didn’t mean she wouldn’t need help learning to traverse it with him. Softly, he sucked on her neck. “Angelina.”

  His usage of her full name seemed to snap her up straight even as her lids sagged. “Yes. Please.”

  Chapter Nine

  Ang lay naked in his bed, spread open and warm, so warm, under the heavy stare that traced over her body. Sterling took his time undressing while she fought not to twitch. God knows he hadn’t undressed her that slowly. She’d had reasons to be pretty speedy herself, considering she’d tried to hide her back tattoo. But there was seduction in his languorous movements, and a sort of predatory gleam in his blue eyes that speared heat and affection through her in equal measure.

  She’d asked for him to fuck her, though she knew it could never be just that between them. That fond, approving look told the tale more succinctly than words ever could.

  Stern, controlled Sterling Vance had feelings for her. Not just friendship. Not just lust. More. There had to be more. No one could fake that kind of expression. She knew her own face held a similar one.

  And she wasn’t scared of what that might mean. Not even a little bit.

  Liar.

  He laid his shirt on a side chair and moved on to his pants, drawing his belt free of its loop with special care. Or was she imagining that? Her breath caught as he tossed it on the foot of the bed, innocuous as could be. His sensual lips curved, barely a hint of a smile. Then that same heady desire returned to his gaze, binding her up more securely than any cord or leather.

  His
zipper sounded loud in the stillness of the room, broken only by her uneven breaths. She shifted impatiently, realizing that she’d draped her arms over her head without conscious intention. Her movement snagged his attention and he shook his head almost imperceptibly.

  The relentless throb between her legs made her stifle a moan. God, he was good at the whole silent command thing. Her breasts felt impossibly full, her nipples so tight that even the breeze as he removed his pants nudged her closer to the brink. This would be a full body slam into nirvana.

  Tingles raced along the surface of her skin, and she had to bite her lower lip to remain motionless while he pushed down his boxers. She wasn’t a natural submissive, though taking that role always made her hot. In this state, she could practically come from a look. A touch. Just that cool blue gaze assessing her as his swollen cock popped free. That thick hardness beckoned her closer to the edge of the bed, but he stopped her again with a quick shake of his head.

  “Dammit,” she said under her breath.

  He chuckled. “This is your game.”

  “Ours.” She wet her lips. “And it doesn’t feel very funny right now.”

  “Ours.” Quiet certitude rang in his voice, steadying her more than anything else he could have said.

  He set aside his boxers and joined her on the bed, straddling her hips before she had time to prepare. Something about seeing him looming over her, so huge and male, set that frantic pulse between her legs fluttering even faster. Especially when he stroked his cock, palming the head with a firm squeeze. Then he leaned forward and brushed his mouth over hers, slowly, lingering over her lips as if he had lifetimes to learn their taste. His tongue slipped inside and away, inciting her to ease up on her elbows to chase it. Him.

  The weight of his legs bracketing her hips and his length pressing against her belly were driving her crazy, but when she flexed, trying to get him to move into position, he pinched her nipple and nudged his cock higher. Sliding it between her breasts, in and out. Trailing blissfully cool wetness over her inflamed skin.

 

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