by Lauren Hunt
I cocked my head to the side. “What do you mean?”
The baby kicked and Ryker felt it, keeping his hand on me. “I was the only one that knew where the O'Malleys kept their money. We inherited it all, baby. We have enough to live on and never work again.”
“Holy shit! Why didn't you tell me before?”
Ryker looked down at the floor. He thought I was mad. “I didn't want you to quit your dream of finishing school.”
I lifted his face by his chin. “I love you more than anything, Mr. Ash.”
“And I love you, Mrs. Ash.” Ryker kissed me, his hand sneaking down my shirt and feeling my up my breast. “God damn, your tits are absolutely gigantic now.” Ryker pinched my nipple and I felt that familiar desire between my thighs—that same desire that led me down this pregnant path in the first place.
“We've christened every room but this one,” I said, twirling my hair with my finger.
Ryker bit down on his bottom lip. “Mrs. Ash, you're a dirty girl.”
I giggled as he kissed my neck.
Life couldn't get any better.
I couldn't be with a better man.
Read on for a complete version of Rebel's Baby
Copyright 2016 Lauren Hunt
All Rights Reserved.
Disclaimer: This ebook is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters in this story may have to real people is coincidental.
No section of this book may be copied or reproduced without the author's permission.
Description
Kayla and I never got our happily ever after. Two weeks before our marriage, I was put in prison for a crime I didn't commit.
Four years later I walk out a free man, but Kayla has moved on and wants nothing to do with me. She still believes I'm guilty. Those beautiful eyes will never forgive me and it's the hardest thing to swallow.
She can hate me all she wants but I won't let her take my heir away.
Chapter One
Kayla
Time no longer mattered when I painted. Everything in my mind drifted away out to sea. My vision narrowed to a tunnel as the brush stroked against the blank canvas. Nothing came close to the calming effect of art. It put you on another planet—away from all the stress and distractions of the real world.
But there was no paint on the brush.
My hand made the movements of a conductor, guiding an orchestra, swiping the dry brush along the canvas, hoping for inspiration to strike. The white rectangle was telling me nothing. A faded image came into focus. I quickly dabbed my brush into some yellow and flung it onto the canvas before the image in my head dissolved. After some blue paint, I thought I finally had something.
A beach and an ocean, Kayla? That's so amateur. What were you thinking?
I sighed and dropped the brush to the ground. A painting of an ocean wouldn't be good enough for my first art show. I needed a piece that would wow the audience. Something that could evoke an emotion. Get people talking about me.
All that schooling and I couldn't come up with anything. A Bachelor's in Art couldn't help with being creative.
My phone rang. A welcome distraction. “Barbara Ann” by the Beach Boys boomed out of my vibrating phone. I checked the screen and smiled.
“Hey Lily!”
“Kayla, why the hell haven't you called me?”
Lily was my roommate freshman year of college. Even though she was also an art major, we couldn't have been more different. Lily was too preoccupied with boys to really focus on art. Her idea of painting was throwing some streaks of paint on a canvas and calling it a day. I couldn't knock her for it though because she produced some really beautiful pieces. She had natural talent. I on the other hand did not. It took me weeks to produce a somewhat passable painting, sometimes not seeing the sun for days.
“I'm sorry, Lily, I've been a little busy the past week.”
“Oh the art show is next week! How is the painting coming?”
I looked at the blank canvas and laughed. “Will anybody appreciate a framed white canvas?”
“Paint the words “The Beatles” and it will be just like the White Album.”
That was actually a pretty good idea. There were definitely people out there that loved that lazy approach to art. But it wasn't me.
“That's really good but I won't steal your idea, Lily. I need to come up with my own.” I walked away from my work station and into the kitchen, glad to be able to breathe in a different room.
“How did you get in this art show again? I heard it's for some pretty big players.”
“My dad got me into it. Said he had to sell an arm and a leg.”
“Of course it was your father, Kayla.”
Lily was making me feel guilty for being from a rich family again. Better to just change the subject. “Enough about me. Tell me how it's going with that guy...what was his name?”
“Greg? Oh, we've been done for a week now. I actually have a date with this super hot guy I met at a bar last night.”
Lily was always neck deep in men. In college, she was known for sleeping around and nothing had changed since.
I rolled my eyes. “What's the new guy's name?”
Lily couldn't wait to scream out his name. “Walter. He's an engineer or architect. One of those. Doesn't matter. The main thing is he has a brother that he's just as hot. And he's available...”
I already knew where she was heading and I wanted nothing to do with it. “No way, Lily. I'm not going on a double date with you.”
“Come on, Kayla. You've been cooped up in that apartment for too long. You need to get out and see the world.”
She wasn't wrong. I couldn't remember the last time I actually left the apartment other than to get food. “Yeah but remember how the last double date went?”
Lily huffed. “You're never going to let me live that one down are you?”
I giggled. “Nope.”
Lily had tricked me into going on a double date with her. Tricked me as in taking me to a bar to “have a couple drinks” and then ambushing me with a guy.
“Just because the guy turned out to be woman didn't mean the date was bad.”
I bent over the kitchen counter and rested on my elbows. “Taylor really was an attractive guy.”
“Well I can promise you this next guy will be one-hundred percent male.”
“No thanks, Lily. You go out and have fun.”
“You're going to have to get over him eventually, Kayla.”
Don't say his name. Don't say his name.
Lily continued. “It's been years since he's been gone. It's time to move on. Find someone who makes you happy. I just want the best for you, Kayla.”
“I know. I know. I'm really just not in the mood to date anybody right now. This art show is the only thing on my mind right now. And I barely have any time to finish this painting.”
“I'm kind of glad we're not roommates anymore. I could never get any sleep when you worked for twenty-four hours straight.”
“Oh really? You could never get any sleep? How about the guys you would sneak into your bed every night? Try sleeping through all that moaning.” We sounded like an old married couple arguing.
Lily laughed. “Sorry, I guess I went a little crazy in college.”
“God bless noise-canceling headphones.”
A knock at the door interrupted our conversation. “Hold on a sec, Lily. There's somebody at the door. Probably my father coming over to teach me how to network or something for the art show.”
I unlocked the front door and opened it to a memory from my past. My jaw dropped and the phone dropped to the floor. I could still hear Lily on the other line trying to talk.
Muscles, tattoos, and that cocky smile.
Rebel was back.
Rebel
There she was standing in the doorway, her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail. She wore a dark blue apron covered in dry paint protecting her clothes. Exactly how I remembered her.
My Kayla.
We stared at each other for an eternity. I wanted to take her in my arms, force my lips against hers. But that wouldn't be appropriate. So much time had passed. How could I ever explain to her how much I missed her?
“Rebel?” Kayla choked out. “What are you doing here?” She shook her head. “I mean how did you get out?”
“Can you invite me in and we can talk?”
Kayla nodded and bent down to pick up the fallen phone. I followed her inside and was amazed at how nice her place looked. Dark hardwood floors, long white drapes covered the windows, and an amazing view of the town from the twelfth floor. Daddy Warbucks had treated her very well since I'd been gone.
Kayla led me to the kitchen that looked straight out of a home magazine. I felt so out of place. My jail cell was literal Hell compared to this.
“When did you get out?” she asked, setting her palms down on the white quartz island.
Kayla was nervous. But why? I expected her to jump into my arms with tears in her eyes when she opened that door. What happened since I was gone?
“Just yesterday. Nobody was there to pick me up so I had to bum a ride to town.”
“...It's been a long time, Rebel.”
I walked around the kitchen island until I was only inches away from Kayla. All those ancient feelings came back. They were always there. But they were dormant. “Four years. Four long years.”
Kayla put her hand on my chest to stop my advances. It'd been so long since I held a woman. I dreamed of doing it every day in that prison. My heart pounded against her hand. Something harder pounded in my pants.
“How did you get out? You were sentenced to thirty years.”
Why did she have to ask so many questions? One kiss from me and she'd forget about everything. I jerked off every day in prison to the image of Kayla. Now it was time to make that fantasy come true.
I backed away to give her space. Kayla was obviously shocked at my return. Not exactly the warm reception I was expecting.
“They let me out because of overcrowding.” The reason sounded idiotic in my head but that's what they told me.
“Wait a second.” Kayla sat down at the bar stool next to the island and I joined her on the opposite side. There was an canyon of white quartz between us. “You were put in prison for attempted murder. They couldn't let you out because of overcrowding.”
Why was she making this so hard? I was back. That's all that should matter. “I was put in prison for a crime I didn't commit. The county knew they fucked up and instead of publicly acknowledging it, they gave a bullshit reason.”
Kayla put her head in her hands. “Sorry this is all so much to take in. I didn't think I'd ever see you again.”
“Why didn't you visit me?” The question slipped out of my mouth. I wrote to her almost everyday in jail but never got a response.
Kayla looked away. “I couldn't, Rebel. It would've been too hard.”
“Then why didn't you at least respond to my letters?”
“Letters?” Kayla raised her head with wide eyes. “What letters? I didn't receive anything.” She looked around the kitchen like the letters would just be sitting around.
“I didn't know you moved into this expensive apartment. I sent the letters to your father's house.”
“I never knew...”
“It was your damn father,” I said so loud that the windows could have shattered.
Kayla put her hands up in defense. “Please, don't bring him into this. Whatever he did, he was thinking of the best for me.”
“And that brings us back to that classic argument we could never get over when we were together. Can't you see your father for who he really is?”
Kayla stood up and walked to the window overlooking the town, Saint Marks. “I don't want to argue about him anymore.”
I came up behind her and slipped my arms around her waist. She felt so warm against me. Prison would have been so much easier if I could've seen her face just once. “I want things to go back to the way they were,” I whispered in her ear.
“I don't think they can,” she replied.
Her words were like a shiv in my back but they wouldn't stop me. Nothing would. The whiff of her perfume brought me back to old times. Sitting by the fire, naked, bodies slick with sweat from making love. Talking about the meaning of life until dawn. Those were the memories that stuck with me through all those dark days.
I turned Kayla toward me so she could see my eyes—see how much she affected me. “The only thing that got me through prison was you. I don't know how else to say it, Kayla. You're mine and you always will be.”
“Please Rebel. We can't do this.” Kayla tried to escape out of my arms but I wouldn't let her.
There was only one way to make her remember.
I forced my lips on hers. Adrenaline surged through my veins. My grip on Kayla tightened. The sweet taste of her lip gloss was something that I'd forgotten. It had been too long since I'd been with a woman. My cock throbbed in my pants. If I didn't take her right now, I'd explode. Kayla struggled for just a moment before surrendering in my arms.
She was mine again.
Chapter Two
Kayla
My head was a tornado of emotions. I never thought I'd see Rebel again. Even after four years I still wasn't over him. He was the reason why I skipped out on so many nights out with Lily. I could never find a man that could match him.
Rebel sat across from me in the kitchen and I couldn't find a way to tell him. But he had to know—had to know that we were over. Every time my mouth opened, I couldn't make out the words. He was so happy to see me and I didn't want to break his heart.
I looked out the window at Saint Marks. The sun was setting and the lampposts along main street were lighting up. There had to be an answer to my problem. Couldn't somebody tell me what to do? If my father was here he'd know.
But when Rebel put his hands around me, all those old feelings came rushing back. Then I knew what to do. Rebel was my first love. He was the only man I'd ever been with. Only man I ever wanted to be with.
Rebel kissed me hard on the lips. My initial reaction was to push him away. But his grasp on me was strong—always was. I melted in his grip and accepted his kiss. Nothing could stop it now.
Rebel whisked me off my feet and swung me around. “Where's the bedroom?” His voice was low and guttural. He carried me down the hallway and to the last door on the right. Rebel gently laid me down on the king-sized bed with a white comforter.
Somewhere in the back of my head, my subconscious was screaming at me to run away. We were supposed to be broken up. But the love of my life was back...
Rebel lifted his tight white shirt over his head and exposed that ripped body. He was more chiseled since the last time I saw him, more definition in his chest and abs. More tattoos too. A lot more tattoos. His skin was completely covered in ink.
I couldn't help but attack his blue jeans. I fumbled around with his belt and snaked it out of the loops. Rebel unzipped and dropped his pants to the ground. His length was pinned beneath his gray boxer briefs, just waiting to be unleashed. The desire ran deep down in my core. Rebel pushed me back down on the bed before I could rip off those boxers.
“I've thought about this moment for four years,” Rebel said softly, running his finger down my neck. I suddenly felt self-conscious about my outfit. I was wearing a paint-stained apron that couldn't be any less attractive. But for some reason, to Rebel, it was.
“It's not a dream anymore. This is real.” I undid the tie around my back and threw my apron across the room.
Rebel wouldn't let me touch the rest of my clothes. His rough hands did the rest, tearing my little blue t-shirt over my head, pulling my jeans, both legs off at the same time. I lay on the bed wearing white panties and a nude-colored bra. Again, not the sexiest but you wouldn't be able to tell by the hunger in Rebel's eyes. My flesh was his to devour.
Rebel nibbled at the crook of my neck and worked his way down. It tickled at fi
rst, goosebumps forming on my arms. Rebel pulled at the front of the bra until it snapped and my breasts spilled out. I had forgotten how passionate he could be. Rebel kneaded my supple breasts, pinching my nipples until they hardened.
“Did you miss me?” Rebel asked, pressing my nipple into his mouth.
