Blade (Archer's Creek Book 3)

by Gemma Weir

  I don’t move, and she whines out a frustrated sound, pushing herself closer to me until every inch of her is touching some part of me. “Cam,” she cries breathily.

  Every molecule within me is screaming for me to take her into my arms and claim her, but I can’t. I need her to come to me. I need her to beg for me. I need to see that she needs me and wants me and that she’s willing to let me in.

  “Please,” she rasps.

  “What do you want, Duchess?” I growl.

  “You, I want you, please,” she gasps, lifting her hands to my hair and pulling me to her.

  Dragging myself out of her grip, I wait until her lust-filled eyes are focused on me. “I’ll only do this if you’re mine. Nikki, I want this settled. I love you and I want this baby. I need you all in.”

  “Okay,” she rasps, her voice filled with desire and her hands pulling at my shirt.

  “There’s no going back, Nik. No more games.”

  “Please,” she begs, lust hazed and desperate.

  A smile spreads across my face and I drop to my knees in front of her. She’s only wearing a sleepshirt and panties and as I kneel in front of her, I run my hands up the back of her legs and around her ass. Groaning, I cup her round ass cheeks and squeeze. “Perfect,” I murmur, releasing her and pushing her shirt up past her hips until her stomach is exposed.

  She spreads her legs for me and I can’t wait to taste her perfect pussy, but this moment is more than just sex. My baby is growing in her stomach and my eyes are drawn to the perfect, creamy skin that’s protecting my child. A cascade of flowers and butterflies curve beneath her tits and across her stomach and leaning forward I drop a reverent kiss against her belly button. I offer up a silent prayer to whoever is listening, to protect my child. I beg that they not be punished for my sins.

  Then I open my eyes, slide my hands down to the edges of her panties and tear the seams, letting the tiny piece of destroyed fabric fall to the floor. Gripping the inside of each leg with one of my hands, I push her legs open further and then I dip my tongue into her wetness. She cries out at the first touch to her wet pussy and the sound pushes me over the edge. I bury my face in her cunt, licking and sucking at her sex until her legs buckle, and she clamps her hand into my hair to stay upright.

  My tongue circles her clit, then dips lower to slide inside her. Tight muscles ripple around my probing tongue and a gush of arousal fills my mouth. She tastes amazing: sweet and creamy with a hint of salt. Pumping my tongue in and out of her, I feel her muscles tightening around me and reluctantly I pull myself away from her. Rising to my feet, I unbutton my jeans, scoop her into my arms and throw her onto the bed. Falling on top of her, I catch my weight on my arms to protect her, then I wrap an arm beneath her and pull her onto my waiting cock. Sinking into her hot, wet heat is like coming home and I groan in bliss as I lower my head and take her lips.

  My hips rock back and forth in long, slow thrusts and she wraps her legs around my back, pushing me deeper into her. “Faster,” she cries, but I ignore her, keeping my pace slow and deep. Each slide of my cock is claiming her as mine and I want to prolong this feeling for as long as I can. She clamps her internal muscles around my cock and I throw back my head at the pleasure of her pussy squeezing me.

  “I love you,” I whisper into her neck. Her eyes are tightly shut. She’s lost to the sensation, chasing her own pleasure. I pull back, pause, and then slam into her until our hips crash together. Her eyes open and the look of lust is so potent, my cock twitches threatening to explode just from the way she’s looking at me.

  I slam into her again and she claws at me, her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. Not wanting the most intense sexual experience in my life to end, I fuck her with slow, long thrusts again and she moans, the sound almost feral.

  “Cam, I need to come. Make me come, please, please,” she begs.

  Pushing my hand between us, I rub at her clit. She lurches off the bed and screams as an orgasm explodes within her. I watch in awe as her eyelids flutter shut, her tits push up and her back arches as she writhes on my cock. The breathy gasp of bliss she makes is my undoing and claiming her lips I fuck her with fast, deep strokes, that make her pussy flutter and pulse. Seconds later she tenses and another orgasm consumes her. My cock swells inside of her and I explode, filling her pussy with my cum.

  “Mine, Duchess, all mine,” I say as I fall forward on top of her, my breath shallow and shaky.

  She reaches up, her hands shaking, and wraps herself around me again. I lift us both, kicking off my jeans as I crawl up the bed. Untangling myself from her arms, I pull my t-shirt over my head and drop it to the floor, then I pull her into my arms and hold her close to me.

  Neither of us say anything as our breath slows, and our heartbeats return to normal. We just lie in each other’s arms until we both fall asleep.

  When I open my eyes, daylight fills the room and I’m still wrapped in the arms of a peacefully sleeping Cam. This is the first morning in weeks that he’s still been here when I woke up and even though I want to sink into his embrace, I feel like I should be running from him.

  Last night was the most amazing sexual experience of my life and this morning I feel overwhelmed and shell-shocked. He told me that both me and the baby were his. Do I want to be his? Yesterday I’d have said yes, but the life growing inside of me changes everything.

  One of his heavy arms is draped across my hips while the other is curled beneath his cheek. As I roll my head to look at him properly, a wave of nausea blasts through me and I bolt upright, my hand across my mouth as I burst into the bathroom and fall to my knees in front of the toilet.

  When the sickness finally abates I flush the toilet, and stand, turning to find a concerned looking Cam in the doorway. “You okay?” he asks.

  Groaning, I shake my head, turning on the tap to wash my face and hands. My limbs feel heavy and languidly I reach for my toothbrush, but Cams finds it first and he pulls it from the tumbler and squeezes toothpaste onto it. He hands it back, watching me as I brush the taste of vomit from my mouth, then once I’m done he takes it from me and places it back in the tumbler.

  “You need anything else from in here?” He asks.

  I shake my head.

  Bending at the waist he dips down and places careful hands around my back and beneath my legs. He lifts me into the air, cradling me to his chest and walks us into the bedroom. “I don’t know what to do, Nik. Tell me how to make you feel better,” he says, as he sinks down onto the mattress with me still held in his arms.

  “I don’t know,” I say pathetically with my head resting on his chest.

  “Fuck,” he curses. “Should I get you a drink, or maybe something to eat?”

  “God no,” I groan. “Just let me lie still, it should pass in a minute.”

  Settling back against the headboard, he positions me so my head is nestled against his shoulder. He reaches down and spreads his huge hand over my naked stomach and the warmth of his skin instantly makes me feel better. “Don’t make your mama sick, little one,” he whispers, stroking his thumb back and forth over my skin.

  Tears prickle in my eyes. How can I push him away when he does things like this? I wish I could let him in, but accepting him into my life, being his, is almost too terrifying to consider. Most of my life has been spent protecting myself from the abusive whims of a man, and even though I know Cam isn’t a monster like my father was, am I willing to take the risk? I’ve never been in a relationship apart from the couple of months I spent with Warren. He thought I was his property, and I’d just thought we were having great sex. The idea of allowing myself to get close to someone, to consider sharing more of myself than just the confident image I portray to the outside world, is overwhelming.

  Cam might be the father of my baby, but that’s all. He’s spent every night in my bed for weeks, but did I ever say that was okay? He lets himself in and out of my house like he lives here, but I’ve never invited him. I’ve never told him I wa
nt anything more than an orgasm.

  Suddenly I feel overwhelmed, suffocated, and like I need to push back. “Why are you here?” I ask, lifting myself out of his arms.

  His eyebrows furrow. “What do you mean?”

  “You normally leave before I wake up, so why are you here now?” I ask, my voice loud and slightly frantic.

  “You know why I’m here,” he replies, his voice dropping low.

  I can sense the slight warning in his tone, but I ignore it. “No Cam, I really don’t. So why are you here at all? I never asked you to come here. In fact I’m fairly sure I’ve never once asked you to my home, but you just keep letting yourself in and climbing into my bed. What the fuck’s up with that?”

  He turns toward me, his eyes narrowed. I can see how tense his shoulders are and at the back of my mind I know I should just get up and leave the room, but I can’t. I started this and I’m spoiling for a fight. I want him to explode at me, to hurt me. For him to give me a reason to kick him out, to reject him from my life.

  “Duchess,” he warns, barely restrained anger in his voice. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re playing at, but you need to dial it back and calm down. You know why I’m here. I love you and we are having a fucking baby. I warned you before I fucked you yesterday that I was done playing games with you. My baby is growing inside of you, you’re mine, you both are, so simmer the fuck down and stop throwing attitude at me.”

  “Fuck you,” I cry, scrambling from the bed. My bathrobe is slung over the back of a chair and grabbing for it I pull it on, my agitated hands fumbling with the tie. “Just because I’m having your baby doesn’t mean that you own me and can start telling me what to do. I want you to leave. I don’t want you in my house and I don’t want you climbing into my bed every night. I just want to be on my own,” I cry on a broken sob.

  The anger leaches from his face and his expression softens. “No-one wants to be alone, Duchess.”

  He takes a step toward me and I hold up a hand warding him away. “No.” Another sob bubbles up and tears spill from my eyes. This is all too much, too fast. I don’t have a plan for him. I was just working through my new plan to be a part of my sister’s life. I still need to do that before I add anything else to the list.

  Another sob escapes me and I lift my other hand to my mouth to stifle the sound. I like routine, I like rules and order, and Cam is none of those things. I have a baby, mine and Cam’s baby, growing inside of me and that wasn’t part of my plan. Babies were at the bottom of a list I haven’t even really written yet. They were after starting fresh with my sister and making a home somewhere new. I’d figured that maybe in five to ten years’ time, I would find a nice, attractive, successful man who would fit into my life and complement me. Then maybe, just maybe, we could plan to start a family after a few years together.

  But my plan has gone to shit. Moving back to Archer’s Creek was never on my list, nor was learning to like my sister’s biker family. God, getting pregnant by a man who’s almost twice my age and has openly confessed to killing people would never have made it onto my radar.

  Cam stands a few feet from me, watching as I freak out. I want him to leave. I need him to leave. “Get out,” I scream pointing to the door.

  He doesn’t move.

  “Cam, get the fuck out of my house. I don’t want you here, get out,” I cry, shoving at his chest. I try to push him from the room, but he doesn’t move an inch. Frustrated, I shove him again and again, thumping at his hard chest with my fists. “Get out, get out, get out,” I chant, sobs twisting my words into barely recognizable grunts.

  “Stop,” Cam demands.

  The tone of his voice makes me freeze, my fists mid-air.

  “That’s enough,” he orders. “This is scary as fuck, I get that. Between us we have enough issues to keep a shrink in business for the rest of their life, and yeah, we’re probably a fucking train wreck waiting to happen. But tough fucking shit, Duchess. This is happening, and you need to get on board with it. We. Are. Having. A. Baby,” he barks out, his body angrily leaning into me. “You might think you want to be on your own, but I can guarantee you don’t. You’ve just spent the last two years deciding that everyone apart from you is not worth taking a risk on. Obviously, I’ve read the fucking signals really wrong here. I want you, Duchess. Not just to fuck. I want you, and I want our kid. You drive me fucking mental, you piss me off and rile me up, but since I met you I’ve felt more alive than I have in years. Fighting with you has driven away the shadows in my life and I thought I was doing the same for you.”

  Turning away from me, he quickly slides on his jeans and boots, then grabs his shirt and cut. “I’ll book a doctor’s appointment for you, so I can make sure my kid’s okay. I’ll text you with the date.”

  I watch as he walks away from me, his shoulders rigid and angry. Shouldn’t I be the angry one? I’m the one that’s pregnant with a baby I never wanted. I flinch at my thought; do I not want this baby? My hand falls protectively to my stomach. My baby. My child is growing inside of me right now. The idea of being a mom frightens me—no, it terrifies me—but now I know he or she is there, do I still not want them?

  No. The thought shouts at me. My baby. My flesh and blood, my family, mine. A fierce protectiveness plows through me and I almost growl at myself. I might not have planned to become a mom, but it’s happening, and this baby is mine. No, it’s mine and Cam’s. Half him and half me and innocent, completely and totally innocent.

  A fresh wave of tears pours from my eyes, and guilt, guilt so strong that I have to gasp for breath hits me. Our baby wasn’t planned, but I want it. I want to protect and care for this tiny little human that my body is miraculously building inside of me.

  Shaking my head, I wipe the tears from my face with the back of my hand while the other stays wrapped protectively over our baby. On shaky legs, I sink back down onto the bed and crawl up until I’m leaning against the headboard.

  What have I done?

  I crawl across the bed and reach for my cell, frantically swiping at my screen until I find the number that I want. I hold the phone upto my ear and listen as it rings and rings. When my sister finally answers, I can’t speak. My voice is so full of tears only a mangled sob escapes me.

  “Nikki,” my sister says.

  I sob again and then for the first time in years I ask for help. “Sissy, I need you.”

  If I didn’t love her so much I swear I could fucking kill her. I’m so sick of her pushing me away. I thought last night had changed things, but like normal this morning she’s trying to drive me away again. I can see how scared she is, and fuck I get that fear, I really do. But fighting with me and making us both miserable isn’t helping either of us.

  Pulling my shirt over my head, I shrug my cut over my shoulders and stomp down the stairs and out the front door, slamming it behind me. Jumping onto my bike I try to start the engine, but my hands fumble with the keys. So much anger is pulsing through me that I’m physically shaking. She wants to be alone. That’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard. I’ve never met anyone more desperate to be loved than Nikki, but she’s so fucking scared to let anyone in that she can’t even admit it to herself.

  I’m not exactly father-of-the-year material and I might be a fucking shitty excuse for a human being, but I already love that kid, and I’ve only known he or she existed for less than twenty-four hours. Both Nikki and I are fucked-up, but together we work. We make sense and together we will love our baby enough to make up for our shortfalls.

  Finally finding the ignition, I twist the key and the engine roars to life. My pulse instantly starts to slow. The vibrations of the engine course through my body and I exhale a breath of relief. Kicking off the stand, I push my bike forward and within seconds I’m flying out of town and toward the creek road. It’s still early and the normally quiet roads are empty, so I let the wind soothe my anger until I arrive at the bridge that crosses from Archer’s Creek into the next town over.

&n
bsp; Slowing, I roll to a stop in the center of the bridge and kill the engine. Pushing my bike onto the stand I climb off and walk to the railing. The creek silently meanders beneath the bridge and like many times before, I watch the water, letting the predictability of the flow calm me.

  I’ve stood on this bridge hundreds of times before. I’m always pulled toward the tranquility of the water when my temper threatens to spill over, but today it isn’t working. My anger isn’t dissipating like normal, because even though I’m pissed at her for pushing me away, it’s more than that. I’m not just angry, I’m disappointed.

  Since she burst into our lives, I’ve felt different. My world wasn’t bleak and depressing without her, in fact I’d have said I was happy. I had my club, as many women as I could handle, and whiskey to drive my demons away. Life was good. But something in her, sparked something in me. She’s not a challenge, although chasing her was a lot of fun. Teasing her and fighting with her have made me feel redeemable. She’s one of the strongest women I’ve ever met, but I was the only one who ever tried to slay a dragon for her. The night we sat and watched her nightmare burn to the ground, I saw the shadows fall away from her. She’ll never forget, but I helped to free her from the shackles of her past.

  I sound like such a fucking pussy. “Oh I met a woman who saved me from my own sins.” Blah, blah blah. Fuck, I want to punch myself in the face. Maybe she just isn’t capable of loving me the way I love her. She’s been through so much and because she’s so fucking strong I thought that she could fight her fear of letting someone get close, but maybe I’m asking too much of her.

  Turning, so my back is facing the railing, I sink to the floor and let my head fall into my hands. I have no idea what to do. If I keep pushing her, I run the risk of losing her completely, but I’m not sure if only getting some of her is enough. I don’t know if now I’ve got a glimpse at the real Nikki that’s hidden behind all the fear that I can accept just the scraps of trust she’s willing to throw at me.