Sackmaster (11 page)
“Hey, baby, sorry I’m late. Coach Harris
wanted to meet with the linemen after practice.” Bending, he kissed her hard,
then ran his fingers through the short regrowth of hair on her head that he’d
so far resisted shaving again, though he kept his own head clean-shaven for her
pleasure—and his. He grinned, amazed at how, in such a short time, she’d become
the most important part of his life. Her being here had changed his bachelor
pad into a home he loved coming home to.
She hugged him the way she always did, but
he sensed from the stiff way she held her body that something was bothering
her. “Still got a tummy ache?” he asked when he noticed she was drinking water
instead of her usual beer or ginger ale.
“A little.” It bothered him that she didn’t
look him in the eye but kept her gaze lowered the way she did when they were
playing BDSM games at the club.
She’d mentioned this morning that she might
go to the doctor. Jimmy fought down the panicky feeling that came over him.
“Did you go to the doctor?” he asked as casually as he could manage.
“Yes.”
“Well? What did he say?” Jimmy didn’t like
the icy fear that was creeping through his veins.
“She. I saw a female doctor. Don’t worry,
I’m not going to die right away or anything.” Julie sat on a corner of the big
sectional sofa and sipped her water. Jimmy didn’t feel very reassured by her
answer, voiced in a monotone totally unlike his vivacious slave.
Fuck, he was going to get to the bottom of
this. “Stand up. Look at me. Quit beating around the bush and tell me exactly
what
she
said. Do it now.”
“Master—”
“Don’t stall. You’re scaring the shit out
of me and I don’t like it. If you don’t have anything serious, then you
shouldn’t mind telling me about it.” His hands itched to grab her by the
shoulders and shake whatever she knew and he didn’t out of her, but his heart
wouldn’t let him.
“I’m sorry, Master. I’m— I’m pregnant.”
He felt like he’d been hit by an
eighteen-wheeler. It was obvious she felt the same, from the frightened look on
her gorgeous face.
“A kid?” Once in a while he’d thought about
having a family. But not lately. Julie occupied all his thoughts the way no
other woman ever had—even Belinda. He sat beside her, gathered her up against
his chest. “Are you gonna be okay?”
Julie sniffed. “I think so. The doctor
seemed to think I’m pretty healthy for somebody of my advanced years, but she
referred me to the high-risk OB Susan goes to. I have an appointment next
week.”
So she wasn’t thinking of getting rid of
it. He wouldn’t want her to, he realized when he pictured her growing round
with his baby. Their baby.
“I bet we did it our first night at the
club,” he said, recalling clearly that he’d taken her then without protection.
Then and several other times since. He’d gotten pretty fond of riding bareback
without giving too much thought to the natural consequences. “Are you happy,
baby?”
When she looked up at him, he saw tears
glistening in her eyes. “If you are. It took me less than an hour to realize I
couldn’t…” She hesitated. “Terminate it.”
“I wouldn’t want you to, as long as it’s
safe for you.” He’d heard pregnancies after the mom was thirty-five could be risky,
but damn it, he wanted their child, maybe more than just this one. He wanted
Julie not just for sexual games but for life.
“It’s safe. I’m healthy. Besides, I’m
thirty-five, not forty-five. The only problem I’m likely to have is this
twenty-four-hour morning sickness, and that’s supposed to go away pretty soon
now.” She paused, brought his hand to her lips and kissed each finger. “I don’t
want you to feel obligated. If you want me to leave—”
“Don’t even think about it. I want you and
our kid, not just now but always.” He said it without thinking but realized he
meant every word. “I love you both. How soon can we get married?”
Now her tears were coming like a flood as
she clung to him. “I love you, too, Master mine, more than you know. But
sometime you’re going to regret having a wife eight years older than you, when
I get wrinkled and you’re still so hot.”
“Bull. We’re getting married. No kid of
mine’s gonna be called a bastard. And if you don’t think I’ll still want you
when we’re both doddering around the nursing home, you’re dead wrong. Quit
bawling and put on your clothes, we’re going to Rebels’ Roost.”
This time her smile was genuine. She was so
gorgeous and she was his. All his. He figured their play would tone down some
in the coming months, and tonight would be a first step. Their first audition
for family life.
* * * * *
Tonight Julie thought the stars shone
extra-bright in a late October sky as she danced with her Master to the sensual
sounds of a string quartet. Jimmy had never brought her to the Rebels’ Roost
before on couples’ night, and it had an altogether different feel about it than
it did on dungeon nights. A vanilla feel that felt a lot like commitment.
Tomorrow they’d get a license and buy the
rings—it amazed Julie that her macho Master wanted to wear one, too—and she’d
invite a few close friends on the team to witness a simple wedding on the shore
in front of their house. They’d make traditional vows that would be no more or
less meaningful than the ones they’d made two months earlier when Jimmy had
become her Master, she his obedient slave.
Now she basked in her Master’s attention, a
vanilla night for two lovers brought together by a shared fetish, bound forever
by something stronger. Bound by love.
“Let’s go home, baby. This time I’m gonna
shave you one more time before our baby is born. No scene. Just the two of us.
I figure you’ll want to wear your own hair when you meet the little guy or
girl.”
* * * * *
All the way home Jimmy fondled her damp
cunt, inhaling the scent of his woman. His sex slave, his lover. Soon she’d
give him a child, but even sooner she’d become his wife. Forever. His cock
swelled against his zipper when he thought of taking her, renewing the vows
they had made when he’d taken her hair and clamped his collar around her
slender neck.
While they watched Missy take care of her
business, he took off her wig and ran his fingers through the very short
stubble that she soon would give him.
When they went back inside, he set the wig
on its stand and undressed her gently, tenderly and led her to the master bath.
He clippered her head while she sat at the vanity table, pausing often to play
with her nipples, which already seemed swollen and extra-sensitive. When he
bent to them, she ran her tongue sensuously over the back of his bald head.
Just looking at her, touching her, had him aching and swollen, but he held off,
stroking her beautiful body while she writhed in ecstasy.
He loved touching her, feeling the bristly
remnants of her hair disappear as he lathered and shaved her. God, but she felt
good, too good. When he licked and sucked the supersensitive spots she’d taught
him about by doing the same to his own smooth scalp, she moaned with a pleasure
so intense that he nearly came as he watched the rapturous expressions play on her
gorgeous face.
“Fuck me, please.” Ever submissive, she
wouldn’t push.
He loved that, loved that she so generously
gave him her love. Very gently he lifted her and carried her to their bed. “My
pleasure.” He found her wet heat, let it take him on a slow, sensuous journey
as he fondled her soft, bare scalp. “Come now, baby. Come for me.”
“Yes. Omigod, I love the way you love me.”
“Me too, baby.” Groaning, he managed to
enjoy the feel of her cunt clenching his cock for mere seconds before he let
go.
Afterward he held her, his cock still
half-hard and buried in the wet heat of her cunt. She stirred, her legs going
slack at his waist. “Thank you for loving me.”
“I do. I figure my cock has found a forever
home.”
About the Author
Ann Jacobs is a sucker for lusty Alpha heroes and happy
endings, which makes Ellora’s Cave an ideal publisher for her work. Romantica®,
to her, is the perfect combination of sex, sensuality, deep emotional
involvement and lifelong commitment—the elusive fantasy women often dream about
but seldom achieve.
First published in 1996, Jacobs has sold over forty books
and novellas, some of which have earned awards including the Passionate Plume
(best novella, 2006), the Desert Rose (best hot and spicy romance, 2004) and
More Than Magic (best erotic romance, 2004). She has been a double finalist in
separate categories of the EPPIES and From the Heart RWA Chapter’s contest.
Three of her books have been translated and sold in several European countries.
A CPA and former hospital financial manager, Jacobs now
writes full-time, with the help of Mr. Blue, the family cat who sometimes likes
to perch on the back of her desk chair and lend his sage advice. He sometimes
even contributes a few random letters when he decides he wants to try out the
keyboard. She loves to hear from readers, and to put faces with names at
signings and conventions.
Ann welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website
and email address on her
author bio page
at
www.ellorascave.com
.
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Also by
Ann Jacobs
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Honor 1: Vampire Justice
D’Argent Honor
2: Eternally His
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Honor 3: Eternal Surrender
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Honor 4: Eternal Victory
D’Argent
Honor: Eternal Triangle
Gridiron Lovers
1: Naked Bootleg
Gridiron Lovers
2: Forward Pass
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Lovers 3: Hot in the Clutch
Gridiron
Lovers: Hot for the Reunion
Lawyers
in Love: Bittersweet Homecoming
Lawyers in
Love: Eye of the Storm
Lawyers in
Love: In His Own Defense
Discover for yourself why readers can’t get enough of the
multiple award-winning publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or
paperbacks, be sure to visit EC on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic
reading experience that will leave you breathless.