Secret Daddies (Reverse Harem Daddies)

10. Devon

10

DEVON

I paced back and forth in my trailer, my mind reeling, as the encounter I’d just had played out over and over again in my head.

The door to the production trailer opening. That little boy, standing there, with a mop of reddish-brown curls…the way he bolted toward me and hugged me like he never wanted to let me go. The way he looked up at me, and there seemed to be, for a moment, a flash of recognition in his eyes…

And the feeling that I might just know who he was too.

There was no way. There was no fucking way—no fucking way that she would have just sprung that on me with no warning, was there? But I couldn’t stop thinking about it, the possibility—the way she had looked at me when she saw her son and me together like that. As though this was what she had wanted, this was what she had been waiting for.

Like she was testing me to see if I would catch on.

He was—what, six or so? That would line up with when the two of us had been together. But she would have told me, wouldn’t she? She would have said something if she got pregnant. She wouldn’t have just let me walk away from her, walk away from our baby, if she had known that she was going to have a child…

I couldn’t make sense of it. It felt like my head was going to fucking explode. I needed to get her alone in a room with me, and I needed to know exactly what the hell was going on with that little boy, because…

Because if I was his father, then everything I thought I knew about my life would change. And I didn’t know if I could handle it.

I sent out a quick message to Paula, telling her to send Maya over to my trailer for a touch-up before my next scene—it was the better part of an hour away, but I just hoped Paula would be so busy she wouldn’t think anything of it. She fired me back a text telling me Maya was on her way, and I picked up my pacing where I had left off, trying to figure out exactly how I was going to put all of this into words, when my head felt like such a mess I could hardly control it.

Finally, there came a knock at my door, and I threw it open—and there, on the other side, holding her makeup kit in one hand, was Maya. She raised her eyebrows at me, looking me up and down.

“You don’t look like?—”

“Get in here,” I snarled at her, fighting the urge to grab her by the collar and drag her inside myself. How could she act so oblivious? She must know what was going on inside my head. She couldn’t have failed to understand how all of this looked to me. She turned up with a son just the right age to be mine, and she expected me to just brush it off like it was nothing?

“What’s wrong with you?” she demanded as she stepped inside, glaring up at me like she was daring me to come out and say it. I stood there for a moment, hardly able to believe that she had the balls to pretend like she didn’t know what was going on.

“You really don’t know?”

She shrugged, staring back at me, daring me to come out with it.

“I really don’t.”

I pushed a hand through my hair, my teeth gritted. I had managed to keep my shit together while I was right there in front of her son, but now it was taking everything I had not to lose it.

“That boy you brought in,” I spat back at her. “Matty. Is he…?”

I trailed off. I couldn’t say it. I didn’t know how. Up until this morning, when Taylor told me to put aside some time to meet with this kid, I hadn’t even known she had a child. And now, I needed to contend with the fact that he might be mine?

“Is he what?”

“You really don’t know?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, raising her eyebrows at me. “No, I don’t. You’ll have to say it.”

The silence hung there between us. I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell she was truly oblivious to what was on my mind. She might be evasive, but she wasn’t stupid, and she couldn’t pretend that she didn’t know what I was getting at.

“Is he mine?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean…fuck it, Maya, I don’t know!”

I tossed my hands into the air, turning my back on her and pacing the trailer once more. I couldn’t think straight. I had to go back to set in just an hour or so, and I doubted I would be able to remember a single one of my lines, not with the mess that was going on inside my head right now. I needed an answer. But I didn’t know if I could take an answer when it came to me.

“I deserve an answer,” I told her finally, trying to manage my tone so I didn’t come off as too crazy. She let out a laugh, and I spun around to face her, wondering what in the hell could be so funny. “What are you laughing about?”

“You deserve an answer?” she repeated after me, taking a step toward me. “After the way you left me high and dry like that, you deserve an answer?”

“Look, if I’d had any idea?—”

“You didn’t give a damn about me then and I’m not going to let you pretend that you care about me now,” she snapped back, cutting me off before I could go any further. “You—you walked away from me when I needed you. When I thought we really had something. You never even gave me a chance, you?—”

“Because I didn’t realize that you—I didn’t know that there might have been more going on there than just us!” I exploded back at her. “For fuck’s sake, Maya, you don’t think things might have been different if I had known…?”

“If you had known what?”

She was staring up at me now, daring me to say it, practically challenging me to come out and say the words that I could hardly make sense of myself. But what would happen then? Would she just shoot me down, tell me I was crazy and self-centered for thinking that this might have anything to do with me?

I didn’t say a word. I knew she was baiting me into a reaction. And I knew that giving it to her probably wasn’t going to do me any good in the long run. I drew my gaze away from her, shaking my head.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she snapped. “There’s nothing you can say that will change things. Nothing that will?—”

Before she could say another word, I grabbed her face in my hands, drawing her attention round to me. I needed her to hear this. Fuck, I needed her to know—that it wasn’t because I didn’t care about her that I’d treated her the way I had, it wasn’t because I didn’t want her.

“I left because I thought I could make a life for us, for both of us,” I told her, voice hot with emotion. “Because we were both working in this business, and I thought any chance I got would be one that you did too. Not because I didn’t care about you. Not because I don’t care about you, Maya. You understand me?”

She stared up at me for a second, her chest rising and falling hard. And before I could say another word, she leaned up and planted her lips against mine, kissing me hard.

I knew this was just her way of distracting me, but in that moment, it was hard to care much. Ever since I saw her in the makeup trailer at the start of the shoot, there was a part of me that wanted her, a part of me that wanted to pick up right where the two of us had left off. I could still remember, all too clearly, just how well we worked together, just how well our bodies matched with one another, and I needed to remind myself of it before I said something I couldn’t take back—before our past swelled up to swallow us both, once and for all.

She pulled me back toward the couch that ran along the edge of the trailer, and I toppled on top of her, our bodies coming together with a familiar desire that took me back to my younger days in a matter of moments. Her hands gripped tight to my shoulders, her nails digging into me, like she wanted to mark me, like she could undo all the pain and hurt between us if she just tried hard enough.

I could already feel myself getting hard, pressing against her through my jeans, all the tension and stress boiling over into something else entirely. Our tongues came together with a ravenous hunger that drew out something animalistic inside of me, my hands on her hips, pulling her toward me as our legs tangled together.

I hitched her back on the couch so she was lying flat beneath me, letting my whole weight down on top of her as I pushed her knees back so I could grind against her properly. I felt like I was twenty again, making out like we were starving for each other, all the hormones and potential as hot and heavy as they’d been back then. My teeth caught on her bottom lip and she let out a moan, and the sound of it sent a muscle memory coursing through my system—every inch of me wanting her, needing her, craving to make her mine in all the ways I possibly could.

Her hands were already scrabbling for my zipper, and though I knew this was risky, I had no intention of telling her to stop. Her hand slipped beneath my jeans and pressed against my cock through my boxers, feeling my hardness, her fingertips familiar against me. In a rush, I remembered how good she had felt wrapped around me, and I knew I wouldn’t be sated until I felt it once more.

Grabbing her pants, I pulled them down along with her panties, letting them pool around her ankles as she tugged down my zipper and pushed off my jeans. Neither of us needed to say a word, the memory of all of this flooding back to us before we could stop it, as vivid and as sharp as the words we had thrown at each other before she kissed me.

Soon, the two of us were naked in all the ways we needed to be, and she arched her hips from the couch to move herself against me—I could feel the slickness of her folds nudging at the tip of my cock, so tempting it made my head spin. Outside, everyone was carrying on just as they always were, set as chaotic and busy as it had been all day, but in here it felt like an oasis of something else entirely—a different kind of chaos, the kind I knew I couldn’t get enough of.

I took my cock in my hand and positioned it at her entrance, holding myself there for a moment as I aligned myself above her. She stared up at me, her cheeks flushed, breathing hard as she waited for me to move inside of her. And as tempting as it might be to make her wait, just to see the look on her face, I couldn’t deny myself this for a moment longer. Closing my eyes, I wrapped my arms around her and pushed myself inside her up to the hilt in one long thrust.

“Oh fuck,” she gasped against my ear, her voice a little throaty with desire. I turned my head to kiss her, the best way to keep her quiet that I could think of in that moment.

One hand in my hair and the other on the small of my back, she guided me into her, lifting her hips and hooking her ankles around my back to take me all the way inside of her.

She felt so fucking good, it took everything I had not to blow my load right then and there. Being with her again after so long had lit up something inside of me I couldn’t control, a ravenous desire that made everything else just vanish from my mind. I wanted her. I needed her. I would do anything she asked me in that moment, if it meant I could keep fucking her, anything at all…

Which was exactly what she wanted.

Keep my mind busy, keep my body occupied, so she could stop me asking the question that I had every right to ask. As much as I should be able to see through it, right now I didn’t care. I let her take control. As long as I got to feel this good in the process, I didn’t give a damn.

She was moving back against me now, lifting her hips to grind into me with every thrust. The pressure of her pussy wrapped around me was so intense I had to slow myself down for a moment to keep from finishing right then and there.

But her hands moved to my butt, pushing me into her once more, letting me know she didn’t want me to hold back for another moment. And I couldn’t, I didn’t want to. I could already feel myself getting close to my release, driving myself into her up to the hilt over and over again, the sound of her breath mingling with mine until it felt like there was no distance between us at all—like all the time that had passed since we’d last done this had just vanished, and now we could just give ourselves over to one another as we used to.

I could tell she was getting close—I recognized the little gasps she let out as I continued to move inside her, the way her body began to tense against me, the way her legs tightened their grip on me to pull me in even deeper. I couldn’t think straight, didn’t want to—I knew all the ways this was a bad idea, all the ways I should know better than to fall for this. But as our mouths crashed together once more and I felt the pleasure explode within me, I didn’t care at all.

She gasped against my mouth as she felt me finish inside of her, the fullness of my cock buried into her as I came. Her thighs shuddered against me, and I felt her pussy clench around me, squeezing tight as the pulsations of orgasm coursed through her. On instinct, another muscle memory, I planted my hand over her heart, feeling the thud of it beneath her chest as it carried pleasure to every inch of her body.

“Oh God,” she moaned, a shudder running from her shoulders down to her toes as she curled herself against me. I held her there, one arm looped around her, the other on her chest, still holding myself inside of her. I wasn’t ready to pull back, because I knew that when I did, I would have to contend with the fact that there was still a whole lot that she hadn’t answered yet.

And that what we had just done was going to make things a million times more complicated than they needed to be.