Heart: BWWM Secret Baby Romance

by Kara Jones

  "The way I see it is that it’s three on two. The odds are in my favor, not yours," Gunner growled. "Thing is, we’ve just come out of three years in prison, so we’ve had a lot of time to be pissed off." Behind them, Kit and Bolt followed their president's lead, switching their bikes off and rising.

  The rival duo considered their chances; neither one wanting to be the first one to back down. The oldest of the pair had more smarts. He had heard of Bolt and the damage he could do with his fists.

  "I suppose we can overlook a simple trespass this time, but next time, it won't go unpunished," he said, eyeing up his younger companion.

  “You do that,” Gunner said evenly, taking out his sunglasses and putting them on. The pair hesitated before turning back the way they had come and walking slowly away. They didn’t look back, but Gunner knew they were watching them to make sure they left. Gunner looked back over at Hannah.

  "Now, can I give you a ride home?"

  Hannah shook her head and snorted. "Nice try, Gunner, but I'm walking home." Picking up her shopping bags, Hannah once again began the short trek back to the apartment. Thoughts of Charlie, Gunner, and the club plagued her, and she wished she knew what to think. Has Gunner really changed, or was all that just for show?

  Chapter 7

  Charlie squealed in delight as the giant biker threw her once more up into the air, catching her as she plummeted back down toward earth. Hannah watched the pair as she stirred the pot on the stove, the gentle aroma of tomatoes and garlic filling the tiny apartment. She didn't know what had made her agree to this, to having Gunner over for dinner so he could spend some time with Charlie. Gunner had caught her at a weak moment, the desperation evident in his voice.

  He had pleaded with her this afternoon at the diner. "I need something good to hold onto, Hannah. Charlie can be that something good – something that can keep me straight."

  She was too tired and too confused to argue. Gunner had been back in town less than a week, and already, he was running away with Hannah's heart all over again. Every fiber in her being told her she needed to run, to get out of Atlas as fast as she could, but all the things that had kept her here for so long still remained, and Hannah knew deep down that the reason she had stayed was for this moment, as much as she denied it. The kitchen timer buzzing brought Hannah out of her thoughts and back into the present. Draining the pasta, she set out three plates of spaghetti, spooning a steaming pile of bolognaise on top.

  "Go wash up for dinner, Charlie," Hannah called from the kitchen.

  "Smells good," Gunner said, turning his attention from the toddler and coming up behind Hannah. The kitchen was tiny, barely enough space for Hannah, let alone Gunner, and they stood pressed tight against one another.

  She could feel the heat of his breath on her neck as he leaned over her shoulder. It would be so easy to reach up and kiss him, she thought. She pushed the thought firmly out of her mind, though her body already ached for his touch. Rich is a good man, Hannah, she told herself, but her heart lacked conviction.

  "It's nothing much, really," Hannah said, laughing.

  "Well baby, I've spent three years in prison. There's no describing that."

  "Gunner, I'm not sure that's a compliment. Besides, have you ever eaten dinner with a toddler before?" Gunner raised an eyebrow.

  "I'm sure it's going to be a priceless experience."

  "Let me put it this way. Have you ever eaten spaghetti with a toddler?"

  Gunner laughed, the deep, throaty chuckle that Hannah loved and missed. His hands moved onto her waist, holding her tight against him. "Hannah, I–"

  "Finished!" The spell was broken, and Gunner quickly dropped his hold on Hannah. She slipped past Gunner through a small gap, grateful for the distraction, as she lifted Charlie onto her special chair and pushed her toward the table. Gunner made his way over to the table balancing two plates of spaghetti in his hands. Charlie happily banged away on the table with her fork and spoon filling the air with toddler-like music. They looked every bit like a family getting ready for a normal family dinner.

  It did not escape Hannah how quickly they had settled back in with one another or how quickly Charlie accepted her father’s presence. She saw the way Gunner looked at Charlie; his eyes held nothing but love for her.

  Did I misjudge him? Hannah thought to herself, but she knew she hadn’t. He has changed, she admitted, but has he changed enough for me to take another chance on him?

  Cleaning the spaghetti off the walls and Charlie's face, Hannah looked around at the devastation that now surrounded the small dining room. The walls were splattered orange and red, and Charlie sat in the middle of it all, covered head to toe in spaghetti and sauce.

  "She was showing off, you know," Hannah said as she stood, ushering the toddler off toward her bedroom to get changed. "And, so were you," she accused over her shoulder, as she followed Charlie down the hall.

  Gunner grinned, but said nothing. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't be angry at her. God knows he tried, but he knew that her instincts were to protect Charlie from people like him. Hell, Gunner himself would protect Charlie and Hannah from people like him.

  "Say goodnight to Gunner," Hannah called from Charlie’s bedroom, as the toddler sleepily ran down the hall, wrapping her arms around Gunner's legs and holding them tight.

  Emotion coursed through his veins. I have missed so much, he thought, shaking his head.

  "Night!" Charlie exclaimed as she broke away from Gunner, smiling up at him once more. Gunner leaned down and ruffled her hair.

  "Goodnight, Charlie," he said, as he watched Charlie turn and run back down to her room and into her mom's waiting arms. Gunner stood thoughtfully for a moment before wandering over to the sofa and taking a seat. Gunner's giant frame filled the tiny apartment, and all around him, he could see family photos of Hannah, Charlie, and her grandparents on every surface.

  "She's finally asleep," Hannah said tiredly, as she came into the living room and turned toward the sofa.

  "Do you think she'll ever call me dad?" Gunner said. Looking up toward Hannah, he saw her hesitate.

  "Maybe in time, Gunner, but right now, it's too new. I have to think about Charlie and what this means for her. God, she already thinks the world of you. Imagine what it would do to her if something happened to you," Hannah said. It wouldn’t just kill Charlie, she thought, it would kill me.

  Sitting on the couch next to Gunner, she felt inexplicably tired; she was tired from looking after an energetic toddler and working full time, but mostly, she was tired from feeling conflicted about Gunner.

  "I should go," Gunner said, turning his body toward Hannah. His eyes searched hers, looking for a reason to stay, but she gave none. Nodding her head, she agreed.

  "Now that Charlie's asleep, you should head home." If he kisses me, I’m doomed, she thought, but she wanted him to kiss her; she wanted to feel him against her, his hands exploring her body. Gunner considered this for a moment before quietly rising from the sofa.

  "I had a really good time, Hannah," he said, leaning down and kissing her gently on the forehead. He still smelt the same: a mixture of earth and wood. Hannah closed her eyes, letting the memories of stolen kisses rush over her when no one else was looking.

  "Me, too," Hannah said, pulling away from Gunner, her eyes meeting his. "Goodnight," she whispered. Gunner wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the words. Instead, he nodded silently and headed toward the front door without looking back. Every fiber in his body told him to turn back and kiss Hannah, to kiss the woman he loved.

  Chapter Eight

  The minutes since Gunner had left seemed to tick by slowly. Hannah's thoughts wandering to Gunner and Charlie and the family she so desperately wanted. Gunner seemed to have changed after getting out, but was that just a knee-jerk reaction, or would it last? He had done this before, before he went to prison. He promised Hannah it was time for the club to go straight. Every time she had things clear in her head, Gunner w
ould come along and do something that made her fall right back in love with him. A knock at the door startled Hannah out of her thoughts, and she padded down the stairs, cautiously opening the front door.

  "Hannah," Gunner whispered. What was he doing here? Hannah thought, hadn’t he left ten minutes ago?

  "Gunner, what–" before she could finish her sentence, Gunner came up the stairs toward her and cupped her face in his hands as he kissed her gently.

  "I love you, Hannah. I will be a better man… for you, for Charlie," he vowed, his conviction was evident in his voice.

  Hannah's heart raced in her chest, emotions tumbling over one another, desperate to be the first to emerge. They stood facing one another; their gaze locked. Hannah reached up and gently brought Gunner's lips back down to hers. He still tasted the same and kissed the same, but there was something different about this Gunner.

  No matter what had gone on between them, Gunner was still the first and only man she had ever loved or had ever slept with. Gently pulling Gunner inside, Hannah shut the door carefully behind them, so as not to wake Charlie up. Reaching for his hand, Hannah led Gunner up the short flight of stairs to her living room, his eyes never leaving her.

  "I think–" Hannah started, but Gunner cut her off.

  "Don’t think, Hannah," he said, dipping his lips to once again meet hers. Gunner held her tight against him, their bodies moved as one, as he held her firm against the wall.

  Wrapping her hands around his neck, Hannah held him close to her, breathing in his scent and feeling the warmth of his skin against hers. Sliding her tongue against Gunner's bottom lip, Hannah sought permission to come inside. Gunner wanted Hannah more at this moment than he had ever wanted anything. They had such magic, such spark. Hannah's hands slid into his hair, holding him tighter against her as their bodies became a tangle of tongues and limbs.

  Shifting his thigh in between her legs, Gunner could feel the heat of her pussy. The thought of Hannah lying naked underneath him made his cock twitch, and he knew she had felt the same way as she gently slid herself against him, teasing him through the confines of his clothes.

  Sliding her hands from his neck, Hannah began to tug furiously at his t-shirt, freeing it from his jeans and lifting it over his head. Her hands explored every inch of his warm skin, following the outlines of his muscles with light touches.

  Gunner shivered at her touch; his eyes burning into her, as he watched her fingers. He silently begged her to move her attention lower. Hannah reached for his belt as she felt his mouth on her neck, slowly licking and sucking his way to her ear. Gasping, she slid his belt open and reached for the button of his pants, slowly opening it and sliding down the zipper.

  To Gunner, her movements seemed deliberately slow, as if she was teasing him, making him wait. Hannah's intensity surprised Gunner. Over the last few days, he had hoped for this, but she gave him no sign that it was even possible.

  "That’s not fair," Gunner growled, as Hannah smiled up at him. Lifting her arms obediently, she let him slide her singlet top over her head, and cast it onto the floor. Gunner's gaze never wavered as he undid the button of her denim shorts and pushed them down over her hips.

  His fingers gently toyed with her over the flimsy material of her panties before he pushed them down, too, leaving her standing naked in front of him. God, she's gorgeous, he thought, as his eyes committed to memorize every inch of her. She had grown more curvaceous since becoming a mother –– the mother of my child, he thought fiercely.

  "Is that better?" Hannah whispered, as she slid her hand inside his underwear. Her hand found his cock, her fingers wrapping lightly around him, stroking him gently.

  Gunner's eyes lidded with pleasure. He moaned her name and bent his head down toward her breasts. He took turns with each breast, gently sucking on each nipple, as Hannah gently stroked his cock, one hand intertwined in his hair, urging him on. In one swift movement, Gunner lifted Hannah into the air and pinned her against the wall. Bracing her hands on his shoulders, Hannah wrapped her legs around his hips, her head resting against his cheek.

  Hannah panted with anticipation, bracing her hands on his shoulders with her forehead against his. Their eyes met, as Gunner slid his cock into her, feeling the warmth of her pussy envelop him as she tilted her hips downward. Gasping, she wrapped her legs around him tighter and thrust her hips down, taking his cock as far into her as she could.

  Low moans filled the air as Gunner held her tight against the wall, his hands guiding her hips with each thrust. Hannah tipped her head back as Gunner's mouth kissed her neck and ear. He gently thrust his hips in a slow, unhurried rhythm. With a soft mewl of protest from Hannah, he slid out of her and carried her gently in his arms toward the sofa. Lying her gently down on her back, Hannah watched Gunner as he held himself up on one elbow and stroked her cheek. These tender moments with Gunner were what Hannah lived for. There was intensity behind Gunner's eyes that scared Hannah. She could see how deeply he felt about her, and she hesitated.

  "Don’t think, Hannah," Gunner said, as if he could read her mind. "There's one thing I never want you to doubt and that is how much I love you."

  "I love you, too, Gunner," Hannah whispered, as their lips met once again. Gunner's lips left hers as he trailed slow, lazy kisses down her neck and chest to the soft flesh of her belly. Hannah's hips bucked in anticipation of what was to come, as Gunner's fingers moved between her legs, stroking the wetness of her pussy. Hannah's hips closed around his hand as he made soft, lazy strokes. Gently opening her knees with his hand, Gunner's lips trailed further south until his tongue reached her clit.

  Her desire for him was evident as his hand and tongue slid gently through her. Whimpering, Gunner's tongue worked furiously against her, teasing her. Hannah could feel the start of her orgasm rise in the pit of her belly, her soft whimpers urging him on.

  Feeling her start to come, Gunner lifted Hannah's legs over his shoulders, allowing him to gain further access. Loud moans filled the air as Hannah came, whimpering Gunner's name. Watching the woman he loved call his name made his cock tighten, and he groaned. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Gunner gently slid back inside of Hannah as she tightened around him, riding out her orgasm. She felt like silk to him – warm and soft and real.

  He had had too much fakeness in his life, too much pretending; Hannah was flesh and blood and she was real. Gunner's lips met hers as he felt himself start to come, Hannah's nails dug deep into his back. Lifting her head, she kissed Gunner’s lips and cheeks before gently sucking on his earlobe. With a groan, Gunner came, his forehead resting on hers.

  She held him as he collapsed onto her, careful not to crush her with his weight. They lay like that for a few minutes, neither speaking, before Gunner pushed himself gently off the sofa. Standing naked in the lounge with only the moonlight that came through the window to guide him, he reached for her hand, helping her to rise. Holding his hand firm in his, he led Hannah down the hall toward her bedroom where this time, he would savor his prize.

  Hannah woke the next morning to the sun streaming through the curtains as a body slammed into her. Groaning, she opened her eyes to see Charlie staring down at her.

  “Wake, Mommy!” She felt Gunner's arm tighten around her waist, as the bouncy toddler slammed into him.

  "Wake!" she screamed happily, before nestling in between the pair.

  "Are you sure you’re ready for the early-morning wake up calls?" Hannah said, rolling toward Charlie and Gunner.

  "You belong on the back of my bike, baby. Mine, not his," Gunner said, leaning over Charlie and kissing Hannah softly on the lips. As she looked deep into his eyes and saw the love that he held for her and Charlie, Hannah knew there was nowhere else she would rather be.

  The End

  Chapter One

  “I just don’t understand why you won’t ever go out!” Stanley’s angry voice rattled against the ivory colored walls surrounding them. Her nose shot up from the book she was reading to look at him f
ully. She scrunched her face and focused on his sweaty, unsteady form; her expression revealing exactly what she was feeling: annoyance… pure annoyance.

  He had just gotten home from another long night out with God-knows-who, doing God-knows-what, and he was in full-on asshole mode; just like he generally is when coming home from the bar. When her eyes had last fallen on him, just after he’d stumbled through the front door of their shared home, he was combing his fingers through his hair in the hallway mirror. He always did that after a long night of booze hounding, as well. Just another childish tradition, she thought, bitterly. His cockiness oozed out of every pore and orifice of his entire body… and then some.

  It was as if he was checking over his outfit and hair — and face and probably everything else for that matter — for imperfections, hoping that he didn’t see any. However, by the night’s end, there were always a lot of imperfections. A sober Michelle could definitely see them… from a mile away.

  The top of his hair was always askew and covered with sweat, sticking straight up rather than back and to the side like he normally wore it. His clothes were also wrinkled, and he smelled of cigarette smoke. He was a mess, as far as she was concerned, but a drunken man, fueled with an ego bigger than the size of the sun never could see those sorts of imperfections. To him, he still looked like the hottest of hot studs.

  “Calm down, Stanley…” she groaned, noticing that he was still staring in the mirror at himself. If she was being honest with herself, she was getting sick of the constant bickering, and she knew that it was about to turn into just that. Every time he came home, there was some sort of stupid tantrum, and it was starting to get on her last nerve. It was always the same thing… every single Friday night, and every Thursday and Saturday night too for that matter.

  “I’m not going to calm down!” he shot, tossing his arms up in the air. “It’s like you always have a stick up your ass, Michelle!”