Tell Me No Secrets: Secret Baby Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

Kristen had said so.

  Instead of an answer, I got only more confusion as Kora put her hand on the bulge that was in my pants, at something of an alarming rate. I really couldn't help it. Even thinking of Kora made me hard, and here she was naked and dripping onto my hand; of course I was super hard, super fast.

  There was something about her that made me want her and there was nothing the logical part of my brain could do about it. It wasn't even really a fight between my lust and my logic so much as a one-punch knockout. It was a desire beyond logical reason. In conflict with it, in fact.

  Kora sank to her knees in front of me, slowly undoing my zipper as she went. I wanted to stop her but couldn't really convince myself to move.

  She reached in and took a hold of my cock, carefully pulling it out, trying to avoid the zipper as she did so. I appreciated her thoughtfulness, despite the context.

  Taking a deep breath, Kora opened her mouth and started slowly moving forward, taking in my cock inch by inch. When it was halfway in, she closed her lips around the throbbing shaft and started to suck, slowly at first and then with more gusto, putting her hands on my hips for added leverage. I could feel myself dangerously close to cumming.

  I suddenly realized that if I came for her here, like this, that I would never, ever be able to get over her and get on with my life without her. Since she wasn’t into me, I couldn’t let that happen.

  "Stop," I said firmly.

  Kora didn't seem to hear me. She was too focused on what she was doing and likely trying not to brush her teeth up against me.

  I took her by the hair and pulled her away. She reached up with a yelp of pain. I let go and she fell to the floor.

  I felt bad about hurting her but not bad enough to relent. I was convinced that she was just playing with me. Getting me all worked up just to say no again. Teasing me.

  My ego just couldn't take that again. Not to mention that I had already made things bad enough between her and Kristen and I wasn’t about to go asking Kristen more questions about Kora. It was time to leave the past in the past and move on with my future. I think part of me was hoping that saying no to her would help me be able to do that.

  I picked up her bikini and put it on her, not wanting her to run out the room naked. I wasn't sure that she would, but there was no telling what might have happened, as this was a very strange circumstance indeed. She didn't resist as I stood her up and pulled up her bikini bottoms.

  "What-" she tried to say, as she put the bra on over her breasts.

  "Be quiet," I said, not wanting to hear it, so sure that I was right.

  "W-was it bad?" she asked, nearing tears.

  "I said be quiet!" I ordered, then walked away from her so that I could no longer be tempted.

  She looked like she was about to cry. None of this made any sense. I was sick of her fucking with my head like this.

  When she was dressed, I took her by the arm, opening the door with my other hand and making sure she made her way out of the room before I closed it, so that I could be done with her for good. Slamming the door so hard the frame shook, I went back over to the desk, sat down and did what my grandpa had told me never to do. What he had once beat me with his belt for doing, saying it was for my own good, saying that he was going to make a man out of me once and for all. I fucking cried.

  Now, I zipped up and went over to the mini bar, my libido well and truly destroyed. I couldn't believe what an asshole I had been when I was younger and didn't blame Kora for being a bit prickly. It was the least that I deserved.

  In retrospect, I was honestly a bit surprised that Kristen was still speaking to me. She had every reason to want to tell me to fuck off for hurting her friend’s feelings, but she never did. It was just another testament to her loving and forgiving nature.

  I poured a double scotch and downed it in one go. Another talent I had picked up from grandpa, though his drink of choice was rum. By the bottle.

  Old habits die hard, I guess. So hard that they passed themselves down through the family tree.

  I wondered how much like him I really was. How many broken hearts and popped cherries he had left in his wake.

  It was clearer now than it had ever been before how little my dad was like him. Which partly explained why he was so dead set in me following in his exact footsteps. I poured another double and raised it toward the ceiling.

  "Fuck you, grandpa," I swore, and downed it quickly, barely feeling it as the scotch hit the back of my throat.

  I refused to be the man he wanted me to be. The man I had tried to be for so long, only leading to hurt and ruined relationships.

  I vowed then and there to be better. To be a better brother to Kristen and to try and not be an asshole to Kora now that she was back in my life. To try to get a fresh start, at least ignoring if not forgetting the mistakes of the past and see where it went from there.

  What possibly go wrong?

  Chapter Eight - Kora

  My apartment was dark when I got home. I had to fumble for the light switch, finally finding it without much too much trouble or damage.

  My mind was still humming, going over and over the texts we had sent. It really was crazy, how life could work out. You think you are going one way and then everything goes another way all together.

  I would have been fine never seeing Logan again. At least, that’s what I always told myself when I was trying to get over him.

  I may have wished that I could, but I had thought it was only possible in fantasy. At least in fantasy he was always nice to me. Warm and loving, giving me the sex I secretly wanted but never dared ask for from him.

  What happened on the mountain was the closest I had ever really gotten to sex.

  The closest I had ever gotten to a cock.

  The only time a guy had licked me.

  And Logan really seemed to honestly enjoy it. It wasn’t a chore or a prelude for something he wanted. He was just trying to give me pleasure. Likely to get me relaxed so that he could fuck me more easily, but the effect was still the same.

  He seemed so kind then. He even stopped when I said to stop. I knew he didn’t want to. Part of me didn’t want to either but the guilt had just gotten to be too much. I really didn’t want to hurt Kristen and I knew she was against my relationship with Logan to start with.

  I still didn’t really understand why he did what he had done during his college break. I hadn’t really wanted to go to the party. I never did really well with crowds. Kristen and Logan were the only people I really knew there, and that bikini honestly made me feel self-conscious. I knew I looked great in it and Logan would probably get hard instantly when he saw me, but I had never been really comfortable showing off a lot of my body.

  Modestly and thrift were the two main virtues taught in my household growing up. I didn’t even wear a skirt that went above my knees until I was 18 and my parents couldn’t stop me. It was all jeans and long sleeves for all of my teen years. Not a whole lot of fun in the summer.

  Yet there I was, showing everyone around almost everything I had. Feeling them judging me. Though really, in the end there was only one person whose opinion mattered to me. I wanted Logan to want me. I wanted Logan to fuck me.

  I had realized I had made a mistake before and was trying to correct it. To apologize, in a twisted sort of way. So, I had one too many wine coolers for liquid courage and then tried to show him what I thought he wanted to see. Tried to give him what I thought he had wanted to take.

  And he rejected me. Like I was nothing. Just another of his little sluts.

  I knew about him and the other girls he had been with before me. And probably after me, even though I liked to tell myself otherwise. They were virgins, mostly. I had heard that other guys want to fight him for what he did to their little sisters. Logan’s friends made sure they didn’t do that again.

  He really surprised me at the dinner party. I was expecting he and Kristen to be the same. They weren’t. Of co
urse they weren’t. They were adults now and they both seemed to have matured.

  Kristen had basically the same personality but seemed a bit more guarded than she had been before. I had no idea what was going on with Logan. He had still walked in like the cocky jerk I had known him to be in high school— the one I both loved and hated him for being.

  But his easy banter and borderline self-depreciation throughout some of the rest of the night, and during our text conversation, were not at all what I remembered. Maybe the money his family had started accumulating in high school thanks to his grandfather’s business success had gone to his head and he was finally coming back down to reality with the rest of us.

  I had often wished I had stayed in touch with Kristen. There was really no question when it came to her. Our drifting apart had really been down to me and I could only imagine how much it had hurt her.

  It was a bit surprising, seeing all those friends of hers at the dinner party. She had always had a few friends, but I was always the popular one as we were growing up. At first, I thought she only wanted to hang out with me to be seen as cool. Like some of my popularity might rub off on her.

  Once I got to know her though, I realized that this really wasn’t a problem. She was plenty cool in her own right, but she just chose carefully the friendships she wanted to make. One of them just happened to be with me. And it had turned out to be the best one, lasting the longest, through the years until we went our separate ways. Still, I couldn’t really expect her to just stay still and never make friends again after that happened.

  I had tried to make other friends after Kristen, but it never really seemed to work out. There was always some issue that would come up, sometimes pretty quickly, that would make it clear that the friendship was doomed.

  They would become a vegan intent on making me become one, too, or they were in a touring band and would be gone for months at a time or her boyfriend would decide, out of the clear blue sky, that he didn’t like the time she was spending with me and wanted more of her attention to be on him.

  Then there were the real outsiders. The blood collectors. The neo-Pagans. The closet lesbians trying really, really hard to be “just friends” with a girl that they really, really wanted to fuck. Like a lot.

  I didn’t say anything, not wanting to poison the well, or put us on bad terms again, but a lot of the women at the dinner party seemed pretty weird too. Not in an obvious way, like talking about their pet crows, or having clown faces tattooed on the back of their head – that took a lot of explaining when a girl like that had tried to be my friend! – but there was a sense of oddness I couldn’t put my finger on or quite shake.

  Still, it all ended up for the best though. The night had gone fine and it really seemed, against all odds, that Kristen and I might actually be friends again.

  The only question was what to do about Logan. He may have tried to be casual and funny but his hard-on spoke volumes. And that was before he had sent me those texts.

  I had just taken down my skirt, a short, pleated, black number the salesgirl had said made my ass look awesome, when the phone rang. I had to fumble a bit with my jacket to find the phone, it being one of those new, super-thin stealth models you could hide in a manila envelope. It had seemed like a good idea at the time.

  “Hi,” Logan said, sounding almost meek.

  “Hi?” I said, it coming out as a question.

  Or more like a single word representing all the many questions that had started raging in my head.

  “You home?” he asked.

  “Yeah. You aren’t going to ask what I am wearing, are you?”

  “No, I mean, I wasn’t planning to.”

  “Why not?” I asked, feigning insult.

  “Oh, um, sorry, what are you wearing?”

  “A pair of black silk panties, thank you for asking.”

  “That’s all?” he asked.

  “That’s all,” I whispered huskily.

  “Oh,” he said softly, clearly picturing it in his head.

  “How about you?” I asked.

  “A once dapper but now disheveled Ralph Lauren suit,” he said.

  “There’s something to be said for honesty,” I offered, this not being the answer I expected.

  “A lot, I would say,” he said.

  “Are you dunk?” I asked.

  “Not nearly enough.”

  “Your family is Irish, right?” I asked.

  “Scottish.”

  “Same thing,” I said.

  “Not really, but continue,” he said, audibly sipping from something.

  “I was just wondering if it was true about alcohol tolerance being inherited,” I said, laying down on my bed, feet still on the floor.

  “Oh, probably. I think so. At least partly,” he said.

  “How many sheets?” I asked.

  “Huh?”

  “To the wind,” I clarified.

  “Oh, at least five,” he said, “maybe four and a half. It is a bit hard to tell at this point, to be honest.”

  “Scotch?”

  “Aye.”

  “Predictable.”

  “Always,” he said.

  “Where are your hands right now?” I asked, slipping my own down my belly towards the waistband of my panties.

  “Why?” Logan asked.

  “Just curious,” I said, gently touching myself through my panties.

  “One on the glass, one on the phone. Why, where are yours?”

  “That would be telling,” I teased.

  “I think I can guess,” he said.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Is it somewhere warm, soft and lovely?” he asked.

  “Warmer,” I said, slipping my hand inside my panties.

  “I’m not surprised,” he said, unintentionally making me giggle.

  “Thickish?” he asked, making me laugh again.

  “Apparently,” I said when I had calmed down.

  I got back to gently stroking my warm pussy, finding it hard to focus while in the middle of laughing.

  “Feel good?” he asked, actually seeming to care.

  “Fuck yeah,” I blurted out, saying what I felt.

  “Fingers in or out?” he asked.

  “Guess,” I gasped.

  “Out?” he asked.

  “Good guess,” I said, moaning.

  “Working your clit?” he asked.

  “Why are you, psychic?” I asked, confused, but not enough to stop what I was doing to my aching lower regions.

  "I'm not, just experienced and observant," he said, not sounding arrogant at all.

  "Well spotted," I gasped, rotating my finger quickly on my clit in a clockwise motion.

  "I am a man of few talents, but those that there are, I have in spades," he said.

  I would have said something clever, a witty barb to put Dorothy Parker to shame, but I was a bit too busy having a body shaking orgasm. I panted hard, desperately trying to regain my equilibrium.

  There was just something about his voice that drove me absolutely insane. I had heard that while men were mostly visual, for women, it was largely based on sound. Particularly a man's voice. I could see what they meant.

  "You done?" he asked, when I stopping panting.

  "Yep," I said, breathlessly.

  "Feel good?" he asked.

  "Very good," I said, returning to myself.

  "Excellent. Listen, I know this is customarily done prior to orgasm, but would you like to go for a drink with me?"

  Of all the unexpected things that had happened that day, this definitely won the prize for the most unexpected of them all. My breath caught, sounding something like a gasp. I hoped he hadn't noticed.

  I really didn't know what to make of that. The whole situation was just so odd. My brain, the logical part of it anyway, was screaming at me to say no. To tell him to fuck off and that I would see him in hell. Just because it was logical didn't
mean it was nice, though. There were other chemical reactions going on up there. Like the ones that made both my pussy and my chest feel tight.

  My heart rate was increasing by several beats a minute.

  My skin was actually getting warm to the touch.

  My own sense of touch was getting much more sensitive.

  As much as I hated him for what he did, I couldn't deny that he did things to me, at least on a chemical level, that no one else ever had. At least not to that degree.

  I wanted to fuck him so bad I could taste it. I would just have to keep myself from punching him first.

  "You sure you should be driving?" I asked.

  "I have a driver," he said, without a hint of pretense.

  "Of course," I said, "of course you do. Where do you want to meet?"

  "There is a quite nice wine bar a few blocks from your place," he said.

  "How do you know where I live? You didn't hire a private investigator, did you?"

  "Nothing so drastic," he said, casually.

  "Then how?"

  "You're in the book and I know this city like the back of my hand," he said.

  "Oh," I said, feeling relieved, as well as a little silly. "I’m assuming you mean Calista. I’m down to go there.”

  I was down to go anywhere with him.

  But that much would remain unspoken.

  Chapter Nine - Kora

  It took a while to get dressed, mostly trying to decide what to wear. I had thought about dressing modestly, as was my way. Jeans and a hoodie or something like that. Showing Logan I really didn't care what he thought of me.

  But I was then overtaken by a strike of naughtiness and decided to go with something a little bit sexy. It took some searching, but I finally found the short, black dress and matching high heels that I had last worn to a party I had been invited to in the past.

  I was still a bit unsteady on the heels, being more used to sneakers, but I made it work with only the occasional wobble when I first put them on. I felt rock steady by the time I got down the street and started towards the address Logan had given me.

  I still couldn't quite believe it was happening. After all these years, we were basically going out on a date. Something we had never really done at the time. Not officially. Not exclusively, anyway.