Six
ALLISON
P inkie .
The name echoed in her mind like a chant, melodically replaying like a symphony. It was such a silly little word—cute, undeniably—but “cute” was the last thing that came to mind when this particular man uttered it almost directly into her ear. A hot current coursed down her spine as his breath fanned against her skin, sending shivers through her body.
Over the past couple of weeks, Allison’s hormones had begun to make their presence known, but she understood that this sensation had nothing to do with her pregnancy and everything to do with the Greek God—pun intended—sipping his coffee right next to her. His chiseled jaw and sun-kissed skin made her heart race, and she couldn’t help but feel a magnetic pull toward him, the kind that left her both exhilarated and slightly breathless.
She sighed as he moved closer, her thoughts spiraling into all the reasons she couldn’t possibly let him take her right there in the booth. The clinking of dishes and the hum of conversation faded into the background as her mind raced through the consequences: the embarrassment, the risk of being seen, the reality of her situation. She was caught in a whirlwind of desire and practicality, torn between the intoxicating chemistry igniting between them and the heavy weight of responsibility that loomed over her. The warmth radiating from his body enveloped her, heightening her senses, but she couldn’t afford to lose herself in the moment, not now.
Needing to distract herself from the specimen that was Angelo Taylor, Allison asked, “So, I schedule the appointment, we both go, and then what? Where do we go from there?”
He shrugged, but his gaze never wavered. He seemed to peer directly into her soul, and she found herself loving the intensity of his focus. For too long, she had felt like a machine, but now, with him, she felt like a person again.
“If you’ll let me, I’d like to care for you and the baby in any way I can. Doctor’s appointments, picking out baby clothes, even simple coffee runs like today.” Angelo paused, taking a breath before answering with newfound confidence. Her heart warmed at his words.
He really wants to be involved, doesn’t he?
Allison contemplated this for a moment. Angelo seemed genuinely willing to embrace fatherhood, and the idea of her baby having both parents was undeniably appealing. She knew she would need all the help she could get; while her brothers had insisted they would support her, having the father actively involved in their lives would make a world of difference for her and the baby.
Yet, she couldn’t shake the feeling of caution. She couldn’t just leap at the chance to play house with her father’s business rival. He was still, in many ways, a stranger to her. Would his intentions remain pure, or would the complexities of their families’ rivalry complicate everything? The warmth of his gaze was tempting, but the reality of the situation loomed heavily over her, demanding careful consideration.
“Angelo…” she began, though she struggled to find the right words. A sigh escaped her lips. “We can’t just pretend we’re not who we are. I’m a Lockwood, and not only are you a Taylor, but you’re now the Taylor.” She shook her head, the weight of their families’ antagonism hanging heavily in the air.
She noticed Angelo’s mood shift, and a pang of guilt shot through her. She didn’t like that one bit. She wanted those chocolate eyes to warm again, the way they had been looking at her for the past half hour.
“I’m not going to pretend anything, Allison. But you’re having my child. I won’t just stand idly by while you carry our baby alone for the next eight months. This is my responsibility too.” His voice was steady, filled with determination, and his eyes seemed to glow with resolve. His strong jaw was set tight, and the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly, revealing a depth of emotion that stirred something within her. It filled her with a newfound confidence; if she had him by her side, she felt she could conquer the world.
But just as quickly, a single thought shattered her feelings of omnipotence.
Oh God, I still have to tell the guys that it’s Angelo’s baby.
And then there was her father. She almost winced at the thought.
He’s either going to kill me or he’s going to die.
The weight of the impending conversations loomed over her, threatening to dampen the spark of hope that had ignited between them. She knew she couldn’t hide the truth forever, and the reality of her situation came rushing back, reminding her that navigating this new path wouldn’t be as simple as she’d like it to be.
Allison gulped, steeling herself for what she was about to say. “You’re right. We’ll figure this out. There’s just one tiny thing we need to do first.” She swallowed hard as the thought crossed her mind.
Angelo leaned in closer, his expression intent, as if she were about to share some precious secret. “And what’s that, Allison?”
Hearing him say her name didn’t invoke the same warmth as before. Instead, a chill raced down her spine. “We have to tell my father.”
In an instant, Angelo froze, his face transforming into a mask of stone. The telltale look of “oh shit” spread across his features.
My sentiments exactly.
The gravity of their situation settled heavily between them, a looming storm on the horizon that neither of them could ignore. The thought of facing her father sent a wave of anxiety crashing over her, and she could see that Angelo felt it too.
All Allison could think about for the rest of the “coffee date” was the doctor’s appointment. It loomed over her like a dark cloud, and as much as she tried to distract herself, it was always there, nagging at the back of her mind.
She was in her apartment, barfing up her guts while also racking her brain for a way to break the news to her father, but every idea she came up with felt like trying to teach a cat to fetch—impossible and slightly absurd. Meanwhile, Angelo’s suggestions had been about as helpful as a screen door on a submarine.
“Why not, Allison?” he said, rolling his eyes in an exaggerated fashion that made her wonder if he practiced in front of a mirror.
“Because what good would it do?” she shot back, ready to unleash the full force of her exasperation. “Going to my father and simply blurting it out would only make him furious. I might as well hand him a stick of dynamite with a lit fuse!”
Angelo’s smirk suggested he relished the idea of chaos, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that deep down, making her dad explode was precisely his goal. But no way was she going to take the brunt of her father’s wrath just so Angelo could play the heroic martyr. Besides, she liked her eyebrows right where they were, and she had no intention of watching them get singed off in the inevitable explosion.
Allison hurled at the memory. She had only been home for a few minutes, but she couldn’t shake off the lingering effects of their so-called “coffee date”—a term Angelo had accidentally used, but was stuck inside her head. She kept retching uncontrollably, and she wondered if it was the conversation that had upset her stomach or the latte that tasted suspiciously like regret.
After what felt like an eternity of emptying her insides, she finally emerged from the bathroom feeling lighter but still shaken. Now, all she wanted was to indulge in a long, relaxing bath to wash away the day’s chaos.
She picked out some non-granny panties and a very, very comfortable bra—because sore breasts—and a freshly washed towel. She always used her bathrobe when she took showers, but she found that using a towel to wrap her hair was better than using those thin wraps.
Thick hair problems.
She gathered her lavender-scented candles and her trusty Bluetooth speaker. With everything in tow, she made her way to the bathroom, determined to create a serene sanctuary.
Once inside, she lit the candles, their soft glow flickering in the dim light, and set up her speaker for some soothing tunes. She carefully selected a vibrant bath bomb that promised a burst of relaxation and paired it with a sprinkle of bath salts that smelled like a spa day in a jar. As she waited for the tub to fill, she leaned against the counter, allowing herself a moment to breathe deeply and let the fragrant lavender work its magic.
“Just me, the bubbles, and no more awkward coffee dates,” she whispered to herself, a faint smile creeping onto her lips as the warm water began to rise, ready to embrace her in a soothing cocoon.
What she didn’t take into account, however, was that the bath created waves—waves that danced like tiny whirlpools and made her feel even more nauseous than before. Just when she thought she could escape the turmoil of the day, the swirling water reminded her of the emotional storm still brewing in her mind.
With a frustrated sigh, she abandoned the idea of a relaxing bath, sacrificing her peaceful retreat for a quick shower. She turned on the water, the sound of the spray instantly soothing her frazzled nerves. As the hot water cascaded over her, she let it wash away the remnants of the day, hoping to emerge with a clearer mind and a little less nausea.
“Next time, I’ll stick to good old-fashioned soap and water,” Allison muttered, feeling a bit more human as she scrubbed away the stress.
Her mind traveled back to Mr. Angelo Taylor.
She wasn’t thinking of his arms this time. Her mind was filled with images and sensations of him. Driving into her from behind and pulling her hair. Or holding her down while he feasted on her pussy. Or the way he had filled that chair so beautifully at their meeting.
Allison shook her head to rid herself of the dirty thoughts, but it didn’t work. By the time her shower was done, she was well and truly dripping. Not from the water.
Her mind was still plagued by the wicked images.
Allison settled into her bed, sighing at the feeling of the fresh sheets rubbing against her skin. It was relief and torture all at once; relief because the sensation was cooling her down, but torture because she needed more.
She was aching, burning and nothing would make this feeling go away. Nothing except…
Her hands softly settled on her sides.
There’s no way I’m going to touch myself to the thought of Angelo Taylor.
Her fingers moved, trailing up her body, caressing her skin.
I refuse to succumb to the temptations.
Trailing even further up, she teased herself as she caressed her cleavage.
There’s simply no way I will—
Oh, who am I kidding?
Fingers traveling to her breasts, she toyed with her nipples; rounding them, pinching them.
It had been too long since she’d taken care of herself this way, since she’d paid her body any attention. The sensation was so intense, she gasped and she hadn’t even truly begun yet.
She left a hand there, alternating between one breast and the other, rolling her nipples between soft fingers. The other trailed down, down, down, grazing her skin with her fingernails as they passed over her stomach and belly, until she reached the trimmed hair between her legs.
Allison pictured another, much larger palm stroking her skin, and she dripped onto her sheets.
Her desire built, the mess between her folds proof of her neediness as a finger teased her wet entrance. She gathered her own moisture, spreading it to her aching clit and a deep, breathy moan left her mouth.
She started applying pressure to the sensitive little button, circling her fingers around it and her hips swished in tandem.
Chocolate brown eyes and divine curls flashed in her mind as her hand moved faster, the other still toying with her breasts in a fast developing frenzy. She was writhing on her bed, moaning and gasping as her fingers applied a bit more pressure to her clit and the pleasure built like a tidal wave.
She was drenched, her breathing ragged as she paid attention to her pulsing clit with small, tantalizing circles and her back arched off the bed.
Her fingers moved increasingly faster, her movements becoming wilder as Allison’s moans echoed around her. She lost herself in the pleasure, trying to swim in the cresting wave that just kept rising.
She pinched a nipple, moving her hips just so, and the pressure just kept building and building. Angelo’s face flashed inside her mind, his hands teasing her, his words encouraging her as her moans turned into sobs.
She kept swimming, moving, trembling and her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her orgasm finally crashed over her entire body.
Her mouth was open in a silent O, toes curled as a broken sound left her lips, something very akin to, “Angelo!”
A smile stretched her mouth, the satisfaction spreading through her body as Allison slowly came down from her high, still panting like crazy.
A smile that disappeared as a thought banged inside her mind: I’m in deep fucking trouble.