King's Baby: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance Read online

  Jade had found me a week after the opening and asked to speak with me. I was worried at first, until I saw her big smile.

  “You took care of my girl. Thank you.”

  The rest of Christy’s girls shared similar sentiments, and I knew that Christy was touched by how much they cared for her.

  In the six months since we’d dealt with Romano, Rossi, and the cops, our entire lives had been turned upside down. True to his word, Romano had given Diamond Castle to us. Christy hadn’t wanted it at first, choosing to stick with the warehouse she’d wanted. It was a few months after, when we began expanding and starting our chain, that we’d finally accepted it.

  The biggest surprise was that Romano was completely out of our lives. Christy and I had both been worried that our business with him would somehow loom over our shoulders for years to come, but, on the contrary, it was like it had never happened. Nobody had seen or heard from Rossi for six months now, but Christy and I didn’t question it. We didn’t know what had become of him, and, frankly, we didn’t want to. Romano had dealt with it in his own way, and we had moved on.

  “King, are we good to go?” Christy called out.

  “Yeah, baby. Let’s go home.”

  In the six months since, Christy and I had grown even closer. She was my best friend, my ally, my business partner, and my rock. She was the love of my life. We shared everything together, including our past, our present, and our future. I wouldn’t have it any other way. We’d even moved in together, a decent apartment that suited the both of us. It wasn’t over the top, by any means, but just enough for us, and that’s why it was perfect. We’d made a home and a life together, and we were still just as happy with each other as we’d ever been.

  # # #

  It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and I was reclined on the couch, watching an old football rerun and relaxing before Christy and I needed to head off to work. She had been strangely absent for the past few hours, running about the house doing strange tasks and keeping herself occupied. I had even asked her at one point if something was wrong, only to be rewarded by a pillow smacking me straight in the face. After that, I just let her do her thing, even if that meant cleaning our light bulbs and door handles. I assumed she would just tell me whenever she was ready, so I left her to it, keeping an eye on her through my peripherals.

  The funny thing was that I knew she wanted to get something off her chest by the way she was sending glances at me every few seconds. It was almost as if she was a strange combination of excited and nervous, which didn’t really make sense to me at all.

  Finally, having had enough of her flighty behavior, I groaned and turned to her expectantly.

  “Tell me what’s wrong!” I burst out.

  “What do you mean?” she hedged, darting around and avoiding my eyes.

  “I know you’re going to tell me eventually. Just save us both some time and stop cleaning things that don’t need to be cleaned.”

  Christy dropped the cloth in her hand and hurried over to sit beside me on the couch, crossing her legs and taking my hand in hers.

  “How do you feel about kids?” she asked.

  My mind went blank immediately, as I struggled to comprehend what she had said. That was definitely not what I thought would be coming out of her mouth.

  “What about kids?” I asked slowly.

  “Do you want them?” Christy was peering up at me, as if I had the answer to all her hopes and dreams in my hands, and I was threatening to crush them.

  Kids hadn’t really been on my radar throughout my life. Growing up like I did, without typical parents, had put me off ever having kids of my own. Then, after I became a wanted man and assumed I would live alone, kids didn’t even factor into the equation.

  Now, though, things were remarkably different. I had a life now. I had a house, a job, and, more importantly, I had Christy. Christy would make a great mother; I could already imagine it. Any kid born to her would be the luckiest child in the world, and she would make sure of it. I found it difficult to see myself as a dad. I had no experience in that field, apart from the bare bones that I received from my own father. That wasn’t what it was about, though. The real question was, would I be willing to start a family with Christy?

  The answer was yes.

  Of course, it would take a while for her to get pregnant once we started trying, and it wasn’t a sure thing that we would even end up having kids. I didn’t want to get my hopes up if–

  My thoughts seemed to stop right in their tracks as I looked down into Christy’s hopeful face.

  “Shit,” I said aloud, as my eyes grew wide with shock.

  The utter disappointment in Christy’s eyes as she misunderstood my words felt like a vice around my heart.

  “Are you pregnant?” I exclaimed.

  Her eyes filled with tears at my outburst, but I couldn’t help my shock. I had to know if it was true. She confirmed my thoughts with a single nod of her head.

  I couldn’t help the way my lips began to stretch up in a wide smile, as I looked at her beautiful face.

  “I’m picking the name!” I demanded immediately.

  Her cries turned to those of happiness, and she leapt forward to kiss me passionately. She put all of her emotions into the kiss, tears still running down her cheeks, as she tried to convey her happiness to me.

  “You should’ve known that, for you, I’d do anything.”

  Our frantic kiss turned into a slow and sensual indulging of the mouths. Our clothes came off one piece at a time, in no particular order. We weren’t rushing anything these days. We had all the time in the world. It wasn’t long before our clothes were on the floor, and we were naked and warm in each other’s arms.

  Our bodies were so acquainted with each other’s now, but she still excited me every time. It was an excitement that came from the familiar and one that I could never truly explain.

  My fingers explored Christy’s body as if it were for the first time, sliding over her stomach and round to her hips.

  “He’s in here now?” I looked up at her, a childish curiosity in my eyes.

  Christy nodded as I spanned my palms over her belly. A brand-new life would be growing here soon, one that was half Christy and half me. With a gentle touch of my lips to her stomach, I tried to imagine what it would be like in a few months, swollen and glowing with a life inside. My grin couldn’t be contained, even if I tried.

  Finally pulling up and moving back to her face, my hands started rubbing all over the rest of her body, working Christy up to her climax. There was no sense of urgency as we slid our slippery bodies over each other, legs tangled, arms running over one another. Christy reached for my hard length, stroking me gently between my legs, as I did the same to her.

  We were close, the both of us, and Christy knew it too.

  “King, I need you,” she whispered.

  I didn’t hesitate as I slipped myself inside her with one wet thrust. Our resounding sighs at the feeling of completion sounded out in unison, and, for a moment, we stayed there, unmoving.

  “Are you happy?” Christy asked me as we lay still together, not yet ready to reach our orgasm.

  “More than happy,” I replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  We kept our gazes on each other as we began to move together, a slow and steady rhythm that matched the beating of our hearts. Our climaxes spread through us in unison, as we shuddered, convulsed, and exploded around each other.

  “I love you, Christy,” I whispered on her lips. It was the first time I had said it to her, even though I couldn’t remember how long I’d felt that way.

  Christy had never forced the issue, though, and now, as the words fell easily from my lips, I couldn’t describe how true they were.

  “I love you too, King. So much,” she whispered, shuddering around me.

  We lay in the aftermath of our lovemaking, because that’s what it was, and I felt contentment filling my lungs and spreading through my veins.
r />   “You’re still not picking the name, though,” Christy teased, and I couldn’t help my light chuckle.

  “Together, then?” I asked. We both knew that I wasn’t just talking about baby names.

  We had been through a lot together, more than what most couples would go through in a lifetime. But we’d come out on top, working together to fight our way to where we were now, happier than we’d ever been before.

  “Together,” Christy agreed serenely, knowing, as I did, that being together was all we would ever need.

  THE END

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  BONUS 1 – Biker’s Baby: Devil’s Wings MC

  By Nicole Fox

  I can feel the biker’s baby growing inside me.

  A whorehouse, a police raid, and a case of mistaken identity…

  It’s a brutal recipe that’s left me tied up in the bed of a sexy, vicious biker.

  Connor Ryan is determined to wring the truth out of me, by any means necessary.

  I’ll resist all I can, but we both know the truth: he’s going to break me, and then he’s going to use me – in any way he wants.

  When I promised my friend that she would never have to go back to whoring, I had no idea I would be forced to take her place.

  But when she betrays me, I’m given to Connor Ryan… and my life takes a turn for the worse.

  I’ve spent years running from my past.

  But now, this bad boy biker is going to tie me down and make me do whatever he wants.

  Connor knows I’m lying, and he’s determined to make me confess – or else.

  The longer I defy him, the more determined he is to twist my body to its limits.

  The sick truth is that part of me doesn’t mind this sinister game…

  As long as it’s him I’m servicing.

  But when I find out that my loved ones are dying while I hold out,

  I’m forced to make a decision:

  Do I keep up this charade…

  Or do I submit and bear the biker’s baby?

  Chapter One

  Farrah

  The summer was finally here. After two long, wonderful semesters at Stanford, I was at last going home.

  To Venus, my aunt.

  And to Honi, my best friend.

  When I was younger, coming home for the summer from my hoity-toity private school was like finally being able to relax after months of pretending. Honi would put on makeup, and trashy, overstated makeup at that. There weren’t any bossy, spinster teachers to tell me to “act like a lady” or to “be proper.”

  Honi couldn’t give a flying fuck how proper I was, so long as we were having fun. And we certainly had plenty of fun.

  I remember once sneaking into Aunt Venus’ treasure trove of costumes for workers, stealing practically a circus’ worth of lace and high heels, only to try them on and feel like the prettiest girls in the world. Aunt Venus might run the ‘oldest kind of business,’ but no one could deny that she did it with class and style.

  Another time, Honi and I joined my aunt’s workers for a party. Though we were only twelve, the escorts who worked under my aunt had no problem giving us a few beers and a couple swigs of vodka. We were fizzing happily as fireworks within an hour, and though we begged the hookers for some of that fancy white sugar they seemed to love so much, they drew the line there. They knew that Aunt Venus would stop at nothing to protect her girls.

  That was the old days. Days when coming home to my aunt’s whorehouse, and seeing Honi, given to my aunt as a spoil of gang warfare, was glamorous, full of bright lights, fancy perfumes, and women who paraded around as lovely and mysterious as swans. It was easy to forget that I lived a different life from them, that my aunt’s love and hard work afforded me opportunities that these women— and Honi— could only ever dream of.

  But now we were grown up. I was in college now, studying business, learning ways to manipulate and magic-trick money until it reproduced like a warren of horny rabbits left alone in a den.

  Honi, too, had also come into her inheritance:

  Whoring.

  We could romanticize it all we wanted, but my aunt was a business woman, and Honi was a hooker.

  That was why, after my year at Stanford, I felt really nervous seeing her.

  Aunt Venus’ brothel looked the same as ever: clean, sparkling, and with just the right hint of dirty titillation. As I entered, she greeted me with a warm hug, sweeping me up into an embrace of flowery perfume and gossamer draping. She was a beautiful, towering woman, at least six feet tall, and with sculpted, painted lips. She leaned down to me to whisper, “Farrah! It’s wonderful to see you! I know you want to say hi to your friends, but tonight, at six, I want to talk to you. It’s really important!”

  And with that, she pulled away, leaving a trail of glitter and mystery in her wake.

  After that, I had about fifteen seconds before Honi emerged from her bedroom to figure out what the hell Aunt Venus meant. I imagined it had something to do with a new financing feat. Between her talents and my skills, we made a formidable pair.

  “Farrah!” Honi’s shriek of joy burst into the room, and she quickly followed. For a moment, I was afraid she’d stop and stare, or be awkward, but it turned out that I had nothing to worry about. She flung her arms around me in a tight hug, and in a second we were like our old selves again.

  “Farrah!” she exclaimed. “You look wonderful! So … professional!”

  “Thanks, Honi,” I said back. “You look so professional, too!” I eyed her thigh-high stockings and her black dress that was so scant it practically could have been lingerie. Honi laughed, flexing her lewd young body to show off.

  “I’ve been learning a lot, too, you know,” she bragged, winking to the other working women as they passed. Several smiled and waved at me, but most simply trudged on. They were not worried about me. I was not a part of their world.

  “That’s great, Honi,” I said. “Come on! Tell me all about it.”

  A devilish look came over her eyes. “To our same old hideout?”

  I grinned. “Same old hideout.”

  It would be that hideout which saved our lives.

  # # #

  Ever since we were old enough to reach the low-lying gutter that waited outside my bedroom window, Honi and I had been clambering up onto the roof of the pleasure house, named the “Berth of Venus” both for my aunt and for its closeness to the sea. From our perch, we could not only see the buildings surrounding the pleasure house, but all the way out into the water, where the rich men’s yachts sparkled in the brackish water. Honi and I used to joke about how the number of ships we could see on any given day would give us a strong clue as to how many patrons would be ringing Aunt Venus’ bell that night.

  We settled in, with me breathing in the fresh sea air, and Honi lighting a cigarette. Smiling, I turned to her to make some such joke, but the words fell short in my mouth. There was a hardness, a bitterness in her face I had never seen before.

  “You’re so lucky,” she said after a moment, pulling on her cigarette as if it had offended her.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, but felt stupid for doing so. Come on, Farrah. You know exactly what she means.

  She glared at me. “Why do you think we came up here so much, when we were kids?” she demanded.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, really. I guess because it’s pretty … to get away …”

  “That’s right!” she cutin . “To get away. We could come up here and pretend, for five fucking minutes, that we weren’t trapped and orphans and so fucking doomed!” As she spoke, she waved her hand around, her cigarette tracing angry circles through the air.

  I swallowed, the rough texture of the shingles biting through the sheer, satin fabric of my
rich white girl dress. “I know it’s hard,” I mumbled. “Losing your parents …”

  Honi whirled on me. “No, you don’t know,” she spat. “Your parents died. It was an accident. Mine, though … mine turned around and left me to the wolves!”

  At that, a rippling of anger surged through me. Wolves? I thought. Aloud, I said, “If you don’t think Aunt Venus has been good to you—”

  “Oh, Auntie Anna has been wonderful to me,” she sneered back. That she even knew Venus’s real name showed how long we had been friends.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  She hunched up, her face halfway hidden beyond her knees. Two jeweled eyes, dark as obsidian, glared out at me. She looked like an animal about to strike.