ROMANCE: BIKER ROMANCE: Valentine Biker (MC Alpha Male Pregnancy Romance) (New Adult Valentine Romance Short Stories) (81 page)

“Fuck.” Wyatt couldn’t deny the tingling in his spine or the way his balls drew up when Sasha cried out his name. It was an impossibility and he couldn’t fight it. Thrusting hard a few more times, he didn’t even consider pulling out as thick, creamy ropes shot from the spongy head of his penis to coat her inner walls.

Panting heavily, Sasha collapsed with shaking limbs and Wyatt fell over her to get himself into a spooning position. She liked to snuggle, and was glad when he tangled their legs together and threw his arms around her torso.

“My city girl, huh.”

When Sasha fell asleep, Wyatt carefully pushed himself up out of bed. Maybe he’d made a mistake by sleeping with Sasha when she was mourning her mother, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He’d given her what she wanted, and it boosted his ego more than the fact that he’d won the bull ride.

Now, though, Wyatt pulled out his cell phone from his discarded pockets and ran his hand through his hair.

“Hey, yeah, Morgan Funeral Home? I need to make arrangements for Mrs. Johnson…”

When Sasha stumbled down the stairs in the biggest shirt she could find, she felt a lump clog her throat when she looked into the living room to find her mother was gone. Wyatt sat at the kitchen table, and she rubbed her eyes roughly to wipe away the sting that buzzed behind them.

“Hey.” Croaking out the greeting, Sasha made her way to the coffee pot and leaned on the counter, staring at the stained wood.

“Hey, how you feelin’ darlin’?” Shakily pouring the brew into a mug, Sasha shook her head a little before turning around.

“Better.” It was nearly 7pm, she wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep but she knew that Wyatt had gotten back just after sunrise. Sipping her hot coffee, without any cream or sugar, she didn’t know if she wanted to bring up what happened between them.

“Your mother’s funeral is tomorrow morning.” Gnawing on her thick bottom lip, Sasha nodded absently. She knew her mother’s death would be hard on the town because she’d been a part of it for so long. Despite the color of her skin, Mrs. Johnson had always been respected in this town for her hard work. Wyatt, though, wasn’t done talking and glanced up at her as she walked over to sit down across from him.

“The horses are being picked up at the end of the week too. Pretty soon you’ll be able to go back to New York if you want to.” Leaning her head back, Sasha frowned lightly because she didn’t know if she wanted to go back to her flat. She was torn between New York City and staying here to work out everything. It wasn’t fair to Wyatt to leave him with all of her problems.

“I don’t know. I think I’ll stay a little while.” Sasha wanted to fix up the house as her mother would have liked it.

She was just confused about everything, but she didn’t try hard. Figuring things out took time and effort.

“Sasha- about this morning… I wasn’t comforting you just to try to get into your pants this time.” Wyatt’s confession made Sasha crack a smile. She already knew that. Even though she liked it when he did try all of his tricks to flirt with her, she preferred it when he was sincere. Cramming flattery down her throat wouldn’t get him far.

“I know, I don’t regret it. My mom was right, you know- you’re a good guy.” Breathing a discreet sigh of relief, Wyatt leaned back in his chair and smiled at Sasha before arching an eyebrow.

“So you wanna go again, or is that pushin’ it?” Drinking her coffee, all she did was shake her head but she felt kind of light hearted at the jibe. Her reaction, though, only made Wyatt’s smile grow.

Instead of playing into it, Sasha started talking about how she wanted to really fix up her mother’s house. She had cousins and other family that would be dying to get their hands on it for the value of the land alone, but she didn’t want that. If anything, she wanted it to be the place she thought it should be, with a perfect mix of rustic and modern.

“You know, you try not to care about this place but it grows on you like mold.” Wyatt’s interruption made Sasha drop her chin into her palm and furrow her eyebrows to watch him. Sometimes he was right, and it infuriated her.

“Look, I’m not trying to push you or anything darlin’, but you talk about letting this place go. Why not just live here yourself? Dallas is only an hour away, and no one is expecting you to look like a country girl if you don’t want to.”

Furrowing her eyebrows, Sasha could admit that she’d never thought about actually living here- it’d always been that she would go back to New York City. After a moment of thought, though, she only sighed heavily.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I want.” True, she loved New York, but Wyatt was right, Dallas wasn’t far away. The commute she didn’t mind either.

“Tell you what- you stay for a couple more weeks, we fix up the house, and you can think about it more. We can even have some more fun.” Growing a smirk, Wyatt’s suggestions made Sasha roll her eyes as she stood up to put her cup in the sink.

“As much as I enjoyed it I’ll take a pass, Wyatt. There’s just too much going on. I need to think a lot and I can’t do that when you’re always on me.” Sasha didn’t even really realize what she said until it was out of her mouth, and she whirled around with a budding flush to her cheeks just as Wyatt lifted himself from his chair with a smug expression.

“Why, that’s the best compliment anyone has ever given me, darlin’! Don’t shoot me down now!” Wyatt’s playfulness made Sasha giggle by accident before he pounced on her. His fingers assaulted her sides, where she was most ticklish, and as sick as she seemed she laughed hard as she tried to push him away. It didn’t last long, though, when he started to feel her up, his hand gripping her left butt cheek hard.

“I mean it, though, serious now. I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. ‘Especially not if your sweet ass is gunna be stickin’ around and neglecting to wear pants.”

Wyatt smiled devilishly as his hand crept under Sasha’s shirt and she felt her blush flare before pushing his chest. He didn’t have to move, since she didn’t push him hard, but he did anyway with that smile plastered on his face.

Sasha had become so accustomed to going into the living room to eat that that’s was what she did. She sat at her usual spot on the couch and stared at a television that hadn’t worked in years. The pot pie she’d made sat in a bowl on the coffee table, but she didn’t touch it. So used to feeding her mother before she herself ate, she wasn’t really sure what to do with herself.

That was how Wyatt found her several minutes later after checking on the horses, and he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned on the door frame. Unfortunately, this was something Sasha had to get over by herself- there was nothing he could do to get her to eat. She just had to take her time- take it one minute at a time.

“Sasha, darlin’, it’s time to go.”

Sasha had been a zombie for the entire funeral service and the wake, she moved robotically but couldn’t even find the will to speak. Wyatt had stayed by her the entire time, and she was grateful for his support while people apologized profusely for her loss. Now it starting to rain but she couldn’t find the energy to move her legs.

“Come on, darlin’. Let’s go home.”
Home.
Sasha didn’t even know where home was anymore. She couldn’t go to work, back in New York, feeling like the way she was. Her friends would avoid her because they were stuffy and fake. When large hands wrapped around her shoulders, though, she didn’t protest.

Sasha thought that when she got to her mother’s house, she’d want to go to sleep. However, that just wasn’t the case. She wanted to do something- anything. It didn’t matter what it was. Holding herself in the kitchen, she looked around for a few moments before walking over to the sink to throw open the cabinet doors and pull out a metal wash bin of cleaning supplies. Just then a knife fell out onto the counter and she took it and slid a huge gash in her hand. Anything to take her mind off the pain.

“Sasha! Open the damn door!” The banging on the door was only drowned out by the clanging in the bathroom as Sasha frantically searched for something to cover the slice in her hand.

“Sasha! Sasha, open the door!” Shoving her gashed palm under the scalding hot water that flowed from the sink, Sasha tried to block out Wyatt and the pain helped. She somehow managed not to scream, but had to bite her lip hard enough to make deep indents. The crack of wood splintering made her jump, and she whirled around just in time to see him open the door with a deep scowl.

“You couldn’t be more difficult if you tried, woman. Now get your cutie patootie over here so I can fix your hand.” Grabbing her arm, Wyatt hauled Sasha out of the bathroom and into her bedroom to sit her down on the edge of her bed. Before he moved away, though, he eyeballed her with a slight frown.

“Don’t do this again.”

With a bandaged hand and more than a few tears shed, Sasha ducked her head as Wyatt told her off for cutting herself.

“… So that’s that, you hear? No more dramatics for you, got it? Get it? Good. Being busy is fine but you shouldn’t hurt yourself.”

Nodding quietly, Sasha hadn’t really listened to any part but the end, and Wyatt knew that. He also knew she’d work herself to the bone because it made her feel better. The busy stay better, or that was what his mother always said. Kneeling down as she sat on the toilet, he took her face in his hands and made her look at him.

“You hurting yourself isn’t good, darlin’. It’s not good for me, and certainly not for you. What am I gunna do with you, huh?”

“Could you kiss me?”

Nodding slowly, Wyatt pushed Sasha’s messy hair from her face and smiled a little. He couldn’t help it. She was cute when she asked such innocent stuff.

“Yeah, gunna take off your dress and give you some relief.”

One month had passed since Sasha’s mother’s death and the house was looking good. Wyatt had been kind enough to paint the interior, he’d resided the exterior, and fixed the holes in the attic. Sasha honestly wouldn’t know what she would do without him. It was probably close to 4am, though, when she woke up out of a near dead sleep. Covering her mouth with her hand, she rushed heavily to the bathroom down the hall. Unfortunately she wasn’t as quiet as her groggy mind thought she was, and it didn’t take long for Wyatt to pull back her hair as she shoved her head in the toilet.

Everything Sasha had eaten the day before was gone in the blink of an eye, and she hated the taste in her mouth. Tightening her grip on the toilet seat, though, she couldn’t really think about it as she dry heaved. Colorful spots appeared behind her eyelids and tears welled from the force of her wretches. Wyatt rubbed her back and it helped a little with the sting of the knowledge that she was throwing up.

Several moments passed before Sasha shuddered violently. The episode was quick and violent but not unexpected. She’d been coming down with something and throwing up at odd times during the day at almost any strange smell.

“I really think you need to go to a doctor, darlin’.” Sasha had gone through hot and cold flashes, limb weakness and headaches, and Wyatt worried for her. She was finally starting to act like her old self- the person he imagined she’d be- and now she was getting sick. It might’ve been a different kind of sick, but it was a setback anyway.

“I- y- yeah. Maybe you’re right.” The burning in her throat made talking hard, but Sasha ignored it to lean back on the old tiles.

“Come on. Let’s get you in the car.” Throughout the entire hour drive to Dallas all Sasha could do was worry. What if she’d developed cancer? She knew that sometimes it was hereditary, after all. She’d never been tested for anything, and the stress of the past few months might’ve been too much.

It was unfortunate, then, that when the doctor finally saw her and she explained her symptoms he smiled.

“I’m just going to take a bit of your blood to make sure, but I’m pretty sure I know why you’re sick, Sasha.” Scowling, Sasha flung her arm out and tried not to yell as she questioned the doctor.

“How is my being sick a thing to smile about?” Her plan didn’t work, and she ended up being much louder than she’d anticipated. Wincing, Sasha didn’t plan on apologizing because he was supposed to be a professional.

“I’ll tell you when I have a definitive answer. Little pinch.”

When Wyatt was finally allowed into Sasha’s hospital room he was starting to get mad. He’d heard her outburst, and probably thought the same thing she did. Pushing back the curtain, he could see she was close to tears.

“What did he say? Sasha?” Wyatt dropped himself into a chair next to her but Sasha didn’t look at him. Instead, she stared at her lap with a puffed out lower lip that trembled noticeably.

“He said I can go home… but-“

“But? But what? You can come home so you’re fine, right?” He didn’t like that she was being so damn hesitant. Wyatt worried more about Sasha than he did his own horse, and wasn’t afraid to say so. It was a big deal, wanting to be around someone more than his horse. He didn’t tell her that though.

“I’m p- pregnant.” Sasha glanced up at Wyatt to find his eyebrows drawn together and his face a little confused.