Beautiful Mistakes: Contemporary Romance Boxset Books 1-4

by Victoria Snow

  But the thought of having Mickey’s child inside of me, growing as strong and healthy as their father, filled me with… I didn’t know what it was. But it wasn’t a bad feeling exactly.

  I just needed to think. I could get home, take a nap, and then I would wake up and see how I felt then.

  It took two solid hours to get home, however, and by the time that I was there, I was sagging with exhaustion. I was all ready to put myself to bed and text Mickey later, except he was standing right in the middle of my living room with some flowers and stomach medicine.

  “Hey,” he said, voice smooth and assuring and honied. “Your partners told me that you went home sick today.”

  Something in my face must have crumpled, because he set the things down and came right over to me, enveloping me in his warm, strong embrace.

  “Hey there, what’s wrong, baby? You must be feeling really out of it, huh?”

  God, he was so sweet, so perfect, and I had ruined everything. All of the stress in me, all of the worry and hormones came bubbling up and the next thing I knew I was sobbing into his chest.

  “Hey, hey there. It’s gonna be okay. I’m right here. I’m right here for you baby.”

  But all I could do was cry, frustrated with myself, frustrated with my situation, and frustrated with my stupid biology. If only I didn’t have migraines from the moment, I hit puberty, none of this would have happened. And why hadn’t I known that my birth control was only ninety percent effective? If I had, I would have made sure that he always wore a condom, no matter what.

  I just felt so stupid, so irresponsible, and it was entirely overwhelming.

  “It’s going to be alright, Amber. I got you. I’ve got you.”

  The next thing I knew, I was being swept up in his arms and carried over to my couch. I was a big woman, and it was always a bit wild to me how easily he could cart me about. It was enough to make the worst of my sobs taper off, tears quietly rolling down my cheeks as he wrapped me in a blanket and set me in his lap.

  “What’s going on, beautiful?”

  I had to tell him. I had wanted to sleep, and think on it, and do a whole host of things, but I needed to tell him. He was so good to me, so honest. Even if he left me, he needed to know.

  “I, uh, I’ve been feeling kind of run down lately,” I whispered, forcing myself to calm down and breath.

  “Yeah, I did notice that. And I was wondering if maybe we should get away for a bit. Nothing too complicated, but maybe a weekend trip to the beach? When was the last time we got a real break?”

  Ugh, his thoughtfulness had new tears welling up and I had to shake my head. “Let me finish Mickey, then you can plan whatever you want.”

  “Alright,” he stroked my hair and I nuzzled into the point of contact. If this was the last time he ever held me, I wanted to cherish it. To burn it into my mind. “Take as much time as you need.”

  Well I couldn’t do that, otherwise I would be sitting in his lap, all curled up in his warmth until we were both skeletons. “I… I threw up today so I went to the doctor and I found out I was, that I am…” oh well, might as well dive in with both feet, right? Just rip the band aid right off. “I found out that I’m pregnant.”

  I felt every bit of him go incredibly still, muscles coiled just under his tanned skin. He stayed quiet for a long moment, and when he did speak, his voice was measured and careful.

  “And how do you feel about that?”

  “I don’t know,” I whispered, a little encouraged by the fact that he wasn’t freaking out. “Guilty. Scared. Overwhelmed.”

  “None of those are very nice things.”

  “No… they aren’t,” I admitted. “I don’t feel very nice at all right now.”

  “If that’s the case, you know you don’t have to…” he trailed off and I could tell his voice was pained as he spoke. “You don’t have to go through with this. If you don’t want to. I’ve seen you take your birth control. I know that you didn’t try to plan this or trick me.”

  So much of the fear in me drained out, but there was still worry in the pit of my stomach. “Do you… do you want me to end it?”

  He tipped his head down, pressing a feather-light kiss to my forehead. “I want you to do whatever it is you want. I know that this could throw a hitch in your career. And I’m under no illusion about how dangerous it is to have a kid in America.”

  “Yeah, I looked it up when I was in the office. You know we have the worse maternity care of any first world country?”

  “Actually, yes. One of my cousins didn’t make it through her labor and it was entirely avoidable. After that happened, I did a lot of research and it was… discouraging to say the least.” Another feather-light kiss. He was so kind to me. I didn’t deserve it. “So, like I said, if you don’t want this, you don’t have to go through with it.”

  “And if I did want it?” I asked tentatively. Because I could feel a connection forming between me and all the thoughts of what it would be like to raise a tiny soul. To have such an intimate part of Mickey grow inside of me. To have physical proof of his love, along with someone else to share my love with.

  “If you did want to go through with it, I’ll be there for you because I love you. I love you more than anyone or anything else on this giant rock and that will never change.”

  I breathed in a shuddering breath, his words touching me even more than I thought possible. “Even if it meant helping me raise a baby?”

  “Especially then. I love you, Amber. Every part of you. And if you want to build a family with me, I’m more than happy to give you that.”

  Oh boy. Oh boy. How did he always know what to say? My body shook with relief and a flood of other emotions, and when I could finally speak again, words tumbled from my mouth without a second thought.

  “I… I’m pretty sure I love you too.” Words I’d never uttered romantically in my entire life. It was a phrase that I had only reserved for Aunt Trisha and Michelle. But now, as I gazed up at his handsome face, I knew that the words rang true.

  “Alright then. I’ve got all the time in the world for you to figure out if you are.” He smiled wickedly and pressed one more kiss to the tip of my nose. “Now how about I put you to bed?”

  I nodded, tears welling up again from pure happiness. I didn’t know how he had so deeply inserted himself into the inner workings of my life, but I loved it. Mickey fulfilled me in a way I hadn’t even known I was lacking. Not that I was ever incomplete without him. No, I had been my own, fully idealized woman. But with Mickey I was more, and I absolutely loved that feeling.

  He stood, bringing me with him, and walked to my bedroom. There he set me gently on the bed, swaddling me in my blankets, before carefully untangling himself from my arms.

  “How about I cook you something and put it in the fridge for when you wake up?” he said, already straightening.

  But I grabbed his wrist, pulling him down to lean over me. I knew he could have easily extricated himself from my grip, but he didn’t. Because he was so good that way.

  “Stay here,” I whispered, half-afraid to say anything and burst the wellspring of happy emotions flooding me. “I want to be close to you.”

  “Alright then,” he said, pressing a kiss to me then going about pulling off his house slippers and sweatshirt before slipping under the covers. “I’m right here for you. Whatever you need, whenever you need.” He pulled me to curl into his form and I melted into him. His big, warm hand rested gently on my soft stomach and I thought of it stretching out soon with new life, growing rounder and fuller and… oh wow. That was certainly a heady train of thought. “I’m going to take such good care of you.”

  I groaned, nuzzling into his chest before gently pressing against it. He let out a curious rumble but let me push him onto his back.

  “I want to make you feel good,” I whispered, needing to treat him like he treated me. Needing to repay him not out of obligation, but out of sheer desire to see him come apart. For him to know how g
rateful I was.

  “Hey, that can come later. You should rest now.”

  “No,” I said, crawling down the bed until I was kneeling between his legs. “I need to.”

  Just like every other time, he seemed to be able to tell that I wasn’t just whining, that I urgently, direly needed this, and he nodded. “Alright then, baby. I’m yours.”

  Yeah, he really was, wasn’t he? The thought made my cheeks flush and I eagerly got to work, my hands finding the waistband of his gym shorts and pulling them just far enough so that his cock could spring free.

  Wickedly curved and already leaking, it made me flush with desire to see how turned on he was because of me. I had hardly touched him, and he was already fully erect. Tall and proud and no doubt aching.

  It was an exhilarating feeling and I didn’t waste any time, my hand coming out to grip him tightly. His hips jerked a moment, and his hands gripped at the sheets tightly.

  Yes, just like that. I wanted to see physical evidence of how good I made him feel so my pride could harp on it over and over again.

  I would like to think that normally I was a bit more patient, but I guess that Mickey just brought out the brat in me. Leaning down, I licked a long stripe along the underside of him before taking him into my mouth.

  “Oh fuck,” he breathed, his hands leaving the sheets and winding in my hair. “Oh, you’re so good for me baby, aren’t you? You look so good, taking all of me in.”

  My eyes could have rolled with pleasure at his dirty talk. Before I had always thought that whole thing was stupid and cheesy. But hearing him tell me how good I was, how perfect I was for him, made me react virulently.

  I swirled my tongue around him, my hand gripping his base and following my mouth because, even after two months of practice, I still couldn’t take quite all of him in without grossly choking.

  It didn’t take long before I had him fully slicked up, the muscles in his thighs twitching under me as I brought him closer and closer to his peak. For a moment I was afraid that he would pull me off -he was always insistent that I came before him, and usually multiple times- but he let me do what I wanted. What I needed.

  He was so good to me.

  That thought whipped around in my mind over and over again, my breaths rushing out of my nose as I swallowed down as much of him as I could. And it was like just like that that he came completely undone, gasping and tensing and fingers gripping my hair just on the right side of tightness to make me groan.

  “That was perfect, baby,” he breathed, pulling me up his chest to kiss me tenderly. “You’re always going to be perfect to me.”

  I let out a happy sigh and rested against his warm body. Content and happy, I let myself enjoy the peace between us.

  A girl could get used to it, this whole happiness thing.

  20

  Mickey

  I gently stroked Amber’s back, enjoying the soft feeling of her skin against my callouses. I was still in a bit of shock from everything that had happened, but it was a happy, disbelieving sort of comfort.

  Amber was pregnant. With my child. And she seemed to want to carry it to term. We were going to be a family. Instead of just taking care of her, I was going to have a little one to protect and love and cherish like a child should be.

  And maybe a couple more? I’d always wanted a good cluster of children. And since I was rich, it seemed justifiable to do so.

  …well, maybe I should just get through the first one and we would see how Amber felt. For now, I was cherishing every moment, never letting them slip by without notice or being taken for granted.

  My body was already thrumming from the sated, sleepy way she was laying on top of me, all defenseless and contented. I’d never had a partner seem so pleased from just giving a blow job and seeing her so blissed out made my manhood stir.

  But it was still far too soon after orgasm to be coming round again. Which I didn’t entirely mind, because that meant I could pay attention to her.

  “Are you with me, baby?” I murmured, pleased when I heard a satisfied hum from her. Good, she hadn’t fallen asleep yet. Because if she did, I didn’t think that I had the heart to wake her up, no matter how horny I was.

  Gently, I rolled her onto her back, peppering her face with kisses until finally finding her lips again. It was insane to me that our first one had just been a little over few months ago, fervid and drunken in the hallway of a random hotel in Vegas.

  She let her arms wrap around my shoulders, holding me close while I ravished her until she was panting. It was only when her lips were swollen and red from me that I moved down to her jaw, and then her neck, until I buried my face in her generous breasts.

  Her breath hissed out of her, a beautiful sound, but I was ready to coax more from her. I took a nipple into my mouth, my fingers coming up to worry at the other one.

  She arched up into me, already mewling, already needy for me. And I loved it. I loved how she would always take whatever I gave to her gratefully. How sloppy wet she always was for me. Because as much as Amber tended to think she was difficult to love -which she wasn’t- we could always agree on how easy she was for me.

  But that didn’t mean I wasn’t going to work as hard as I could for her in bed anyways.

  I waited until she was fully writhing underneath me, trying to push her breasts further into my mouth, trying to get more pleasure from me, before I let my fingers slide to her center.

  “Yes please,” she panted, lifting her hips to me. “Touch me.”

  “Whatever you want,” I murmured, letting my fingers slide along her.

  I wasn’t surprised to find her already dripping, slick enough for me to slide a finger into her without resistance. She was already so hot, so slick for me that I groaned into the soft skin of her cheek before resealing my mouth around the little pink bud.

  “Mickey,” she panted, saying my name in that beautiful way that only she could. “Mickey, Mickey, Mickey!”

  It poured out of her like a chant, one that was so nice, so sweet to my ears. I pumped my finger inside of her to that very rhythm, not relenting until I considered her ready for another finger.

  I knew her like a well-choreographed fight by now. It took three fingers for her to usually fall apart by my hand. But that didn’t mean that I could wind her up as high as possible before getting her there.

  Her volume increased, all of her panting and crying out for me. It was quite the ego boost, seeing her undone by my ministrations, and I could watch it forever.

  “That’s my girl,” I soothed, letting go of her breast with my other hand and using it to press down against the soft padding of her lower stomach. I knew that with just the right amount of pressure, it made her feel it that much more when I stimulated her g-spot within her. “Don’t you look so pretty for me, all spread out like this.”

  “Just for you,” she breathed, her eyes screwing shut as she bucked again, trying to ride my hand. “Only for you.”

  God damn, my dick perked up at that, the last of my refractory period waning as she continued to whine for me. Normally I would like to draw out our love making as long as I could, but she had had such a long day that I figured I should wrap things up soon.

  Finally, I added that third finger and curled them within her, looking for that spot that drove her wild. I found it, just as I always did, and soon she was climaxing right into my palm, bucking and half-crying and holding onto me for dear life.

  She always came so prettily, her cheeks flushed and her mouth open and her pupils dilated like she was drugged. I kept on fucking her with my fingers until she started to wince from over sensitivity, and only then did I pull away from her.

  “I want to feel you,” she said, looking up at me looking so blissed out that I could almost come right then and there. “Fill me, please.”

  How could I say no to that? I posted myself over her, aligning myself with her center and pushing in slowly.

  We both groaned at it, the delicious friction, the stretch
and pull of it all. Even after all of our time together, she was still so tight around me, like a vice that I barely fit into. I loved it, and I was never going to get tired of it, and the thought that she was mine and only mine made me want to rut into her like an animal.

  “Don’t hold back,” she said as if she could read my thoughts. “I can take it.”

  I knew she could. The wide berth of her hips, the perfect softness of her, the thick swells of her thighs and the soft cushion of her middle, all of it was made to take everything I could give. I had intended to be tender with her, to be slow and careful and make her weep with impatience. But if she wanted more, if she wanted me to thrust into her like a barbarian until we were both satisfied, well, I would give her whatever she wanted.

  I picked up the pace, drawing all the way out and then thrusting right back into her until I was completely sheathed. She always let out a sharp, potent little sound to punctuate every time I was seated fully in her, and that just made me want to draw even more out of her.

  So, I did. I put my everything into her, sliding my arms under her thighs and hitching her legs up to practically fold her in half while I drove into her without relent. I kept an eye on her face, however, making sure I never pushed it too far, but she seemed so happy to take whatever I gave her.

  It was all so much. The baby, her kinda-confession of love, the way she always melted under me like some sort of goddess. I loved it, and I felt my end rapidly approaching me.

  “Are you close, baby?” I asked, punctuating my question with a few solid thrusts. “Can you come for me? I want to feel you around me when you lose it.”

  “I…” she panted and screwed her eyes shut, as if she was thinking. “I think I can.”

  “That’s a good girl,” I soothed, letting go of one of her legs so my thumb could slide over and around that sensitive bundle of nerves just how I knew she liked. “Just let go for me. Let me take care of you.”