The ride to the pharmacy was surreal. Feeling Kit’s body against him, her arms wrapped around his waist, resonated like a dream he’d been scared to wake up from. Part of him thought this wasn’t real, but when they hopped off the bike at the pharmacy, Kit’s worried face reminded him this was all too real.
“Maybe I should just take it here,” she said, gnawing at her lip.
“Inside the store?
She nodded.
“No. This isn’t the place to find out. And besides, I want to be there when you do it.” It seemed like the right thing to do…the least he could do, beyond paying for the damn test. “Come on. Let’s go pick one out.”
They headed for the front doors, the glass sliding back with a whoosh. Bright lights flooded them, bringing their mission into a stark clarity. He’d never went on a pregnancy test run before. Only one girl he used to sleep with had ever had a scare, but her period eventually started. Bastard had no experience with this type of shit. Just knew what he wished his dad would have done. The type of man he would have been.
So that’s all he had to go on.
Bastard’s boots clunked out a slow rhythm as he followed Kit into the store. She walked hesitantly, her lower lip tight between her teeth, peering down each aisle like something might jump out at her. When they found the right area, they stared at the wall of tests available to them.
“Which one do I pick?” she asked.
Bastard grimaced. “Uh, that one?” He pointed to something with a big blue plus sign on it.
“That’s the expensive one.” She pointed at the price tag.
“I’m buying.”
She scoffed. “Still, don’t need to waste your money if they’re all the same damn thing.”
“Fine.” Bastard pointed at another one at random. “This one looks good.”
Kit peered at it. Why were there even this many choices to begin with? She picked it up and Bastard stepped back. But Kit replaced the box and continued hunting.
“What was wrong with that one?”
“It uses the parallel lines and I feel like that could get confusing,” she murmured, squinting as she ran her hands over the remaining options. “Why doesn’t one just say ‘hey guess what, you got knocked up’ if it’s positive?”
Bastard snorted. “I’m sure you could find that online.”
They shared a small smile, and Bastard forgot for a moment about the enormous task before them.
“Okay,” she said, returning her focus to the wall of tests. “I want one that says it’s 100% accurate, too.”
“I don’t think you’re gonna find that,” he said, seeing a whole lot of 99% staring back at them. He crossed his arms, the packages starting to blur together. “Just pick one.”
“I’m looking.”
“They all will tell you the same thing.”
“Right, but some might be better than others.” She pointed toward a pink and white box with strange arrows across it. “Look, this one can tell you up to a week before your missed period.”
“Wow.” Bastard set his jaw. “I’ve never missed a period so I wouldn’t know.”
She sent him a flat look, but there was a smile buried underneath. He grinned, squeezing her shoulder. “But seriously, pick one.”
“Okay.” She drew a deep breath, reaching for a package. At the last second she recoiled her hand. Bastard groaned.
“Swear to God, Kit.” He snatched up a package, one that had a big plus sign on it, and swept his arm toward the end of the aisle. “Come on, now. Let’s go.”
“Also this one,” she said, snatching up another, and then scurried out of the aisle. He followed her with a smirk. He paid for both tests at the counter, avoiding the clerk’s eyes while Kit fidgeted at his side. This night had taken about five different unexpected turns. But what else was in store? He was nervous to even imagine.
“Thanks,” she said when they were back outside in the night air. She grabbed the bag from his hand, looking up at him with earnest eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Let’s go back to the clubhouse,” he said, swinging his leg over the bike. She tucked the plastic bag in the bike’s saddlebag before mounting, sealing herself against him. The familiar jolt of relief crashed through him. Having her pressed against him felt too good. Part of him didn’t want to let her go again. And this test might have everything to do with whether or not he did.
The ride was stop and go back to the clubhouse as they weaved through traffic to cross the city. Bringing Kit back to the LA clubhouse wasn’t ideal, but it was the best option between the two of them. His brothers would give him shit for bringing her in, and he wasn’t interested in playing her off as a fling. He wasn’t interested in airing this business to anyone, really.
At least he had a room at this clubhouse when he was on assignment for long stays like this one. He always used one of the so-called guest rooms at the back of the clubhouse when he was in town; it was comfortable enough and had a bathroom attached, so Kit could read the test in peace.
His heart throbbed in his chest the whole ride back. When they finally rumbled up to the iron gates of the Damned Devils LA clubhouse, Kit sucked in a breath, tightening her hold around him.
“We’re here?”
He nodded, punching in the code to make the gates swing open. They creaked as they swung back, and he revved once to spur the bike inside over the cracked cement parking lot. He parked his bike in a long line of shiny motorcycles. Almost everyone was here and accounted for, which meant he’d have a hard time getting her in unnoticed.
“Listen,” he said once he killed the motor. “I don’t want to make a big scene bringing you in here.”
“Yeah. I don’t really wanna talk to anyone right now, either.”
“If I take you in the front, they’re gonna wanna party.” He squeezed his handlebars, staring at the clubhouse as he thought. “If we go in the back, there’s less chance we’ll run into the brothers. That cool with you?”
“Whatever gets me to the bathroom so I can do this,” she said, hopping off the bike. She popped her helmet off, setting it on the seat. He swung off after her, grabbing her hand and giving it a little squeeze.
He led her around the side of the clubhouse. Music pounded from inside, shadows moving against the drawn shades of the windows they passed. They were definitely partying in there, which wasn’t uncommon. The Damned Devils liked to celebrate anything and everything, as often as possible. But he knew Kit would get way too much attention if he showed up with her. As a Nomad, he caught extra flack for showing up at clubhouses with women. Some brothers viewed it as a breach of trust, like bringing over strangers when spending the night at a family member’s house.
The brothers probably wouldn’t have any problem with Kit staying there if they got a look at her, but then he’d be fending them off himself.
“The back door is over here,” he said, helping her step over the uneven stones leading to the clubhouse. The music pulsed quieter back here. The rush of traffic from the nearby freeway hummed in the distance.
He pushed on the metal back door, inviting a rush of music and commotion to bleed into the night air. Bastard led her into the back hallway, which was thankfully empty. The carpet was ratty and brown, torn in some spots to reveal the cement flooring underneath. He never noticed it before, but with Kit behind him, he wondered how the clubhouse truly looked to outside eyes.
“Over here,” he said, turning down the hall toward one of the last rooms. They stepped into his bedroom; weak yellow light illuminated the simple queen bed and wardrobe. There wasn’t much else, since Bastard didn’t live here permanently. A small door off to the side led to the bathroom, which Kit sized up.
“You ready?” he asked.
She drew a deep breath, worry dancing on her face. “I don’t know.”
He shut and locked the door behind them, then sat gently on the bed. She joined him a moment later, staring at the tests in the bag.
“You wanna wait until morning?” he asked.
“No.” Her voice was firm. The bag rustled as she lifted one of the tests to inspect it more closely. “I want to do it tonight.”
“All right. Hey, you want anything to drink?” He stood, suddenly determined to give her space. Maybe she needed to be alone or something. The whole thing felt serious, like a funeral. “I can grab you some water or whatever you want.”
“Well, I’d love a shot, but maybe I should wait,” she cracked.
He tried to force a laugh, but it sounded fake. “Okay. I’ll be back.” He let himself out of the room, mind spinning. What the fuck was he gonna do if it was positive? Being in that cramped bedroom with her made it all too real, all too fast. He bolted down the hallway, bursting through the doors leading to the lounge area at the front of the clubhouse. Rock music throbbed around him, the typical weekend scene greeting him: brothers playing pool, scantily dressed women hanging off of them. A full bar, every bar stool occupied by a brother in a cut with a sexy girl in his lap.
Bastard frowned, hurrying to the kitchen. This wasn’t his scene tonight. It hadn’t been his scene for a while, and he suspected Kit was the reason. But almost any other night, he’d be one of the brothers entertaining a frisky and willing lady visitor. The Damned Devils were notorious for their support of local strippers, and every party made sure to feature this.
“Bastard, you want a brew?” One of the LA brothers, Zed, nodded his way, one eye pinched shut. He held out a condensing beer.
“Thanks.” He grabbed it but continued on his way to the kitchen. Inside, the Vice President of the Damned Devils was pressed up against a girl. They didn’t even notice Bastard as he sidled in, fishing a few bottles of water from the fridge. He left again without even saying hi, and hurried back to the hallway. Just before he pushed through the threshold leading to the quieter part of the house, a hand grabbed his shoulder.
“Where you running off to?”
The girl’s name was Heart. Maybe. Something like that. They’d hooked up once a few months back. All he knew about her was that she loved the Damned Devils and would give almost anyone a lap dance if they asked for it. “Hey.” He forced a smile. “On my way out.”
“Without me?” She narrowed her eyes, pressing herself against him, making her intentions known. Her breasts spilled out of her low cut top and he grimaced. He’d had a great time when they’d hooked up, but he wasn’t one for repeats on a good day. Tonight especially there was only one place he had to be.
“Sorry, doll. Gonna have to find another play toy.” He shook her off of him, pushing through to the back hallway. When the music receded he relaxed his shoulders which he hadn’t even realized he’d been tensing.
Inside his room, the bathroom door was shut and Kit was nowhere to be seen. He sighed softly, setting the beer and waters down.
“Kit, you good?” he called out.
“Yeah, just a second.” Her voice was muffled by the door. A moment later the toilet flushed. Water ran at the sink. And then the door swung open. Kit’s face was tight and drawn, her hands empty.
“Where’s the test?” He sat gently on the edge of the bed, like this might somehow influence the turn of events this evening.
“In there.” She wrung her hands. “I hope I did it right.”
“I’m sure you didn’t fuck it up.” The snarky comment was that he didn’t know how someone could screw up “piss on this,” but it wouldn’t help. Dammit, he was going to help. He looked her up and down, fingers twitching as he fought the urge to scoop her into his arms, bring that soft, fragrant body against him. He’d missed her more than he allowed himself to acknowledge. But things were weird. This was weird.
“I did both of them,” she admitted, tugging at her hair. “Maybe I should have done one tomorrow morning. Shit. I didn’t think about that. I’m just—”
“Kit.” He patted the bed next to him. She joined him reluctantly, keeping a solid foot of space between them. “Do you want me to go look at the tests?”
She sighed, burying her face in her hands. “I don’t know. Yes. But also no.” The bed creaked as she sat down. He wrapped an arm around her waist, against his better judgement. Warmth slid through him and his vision went spotty for the briefest of seconds. This woman was like black magic.
“I’ll look.”
She nodded, glancing over at him with worry in her eyes. “Okay. Go check.”
He squeezed her side and stood, legs feeling heavier than normal as he walked to the bathroom. He poked his head inside the white tiled bathroom, the two tests laid out on the cracked countertop, exactly parallel, exactly equidistant from the edges of the counter. He blinked. Are you ready to find out?
Bastard stepped closer, spotting the tiny windows of the tests. Tension drew the air tight. His breath stilled as he leaned to read them.
Both had big plus signs staining the readout. His stomach shrank to a hard knot.
No doubt about it. Kit was pregnant.
He turned on his heels, heart thrumming strangely in his chest as he appraised Kit. She looked up at him, cradling her face in her hands.
“They’re both positive.” Bastard’s voice sliced through the air, harsh and foreign in the suspenseful silence. Kit gasped, leaping to her feet.
“Let me see.” She brushed past him, gripping onto his arm as she looked. Another gasp escaped her. “Oh my God.”
The low hum of the light in the bathroom was the only sound between them for a few moments. Kit looked up at him, confusion written across her face. He squeezed her arm, trying to think of all the possible paths from here. Thoughts clanked together in his brain, useless and heavy.
“What are you thinking about?”
A puff of air escaped her and she ripped herself away, resting on the edge of the bed. Bastard joined her, leaving no space between them. He wrapped his arm around her low back, mind racing.
“I don’t know what to do,” she finally said.
Bastard worked his jaw back and forth, unable to rationalize anything. Keep it, or don’t? The options seemed so simple. But more than that, he saw a window here. If she wanted to keep it…he could be the father his own never had been.
“Let’s keep it,” he blurted out, squeezing her knee.
Her face creased with surprise. She blinked at him a few times, mouth hanging open. “Are you serious?”
“Well, if you want to, then yeah.” He shifted beside her, the weight of his words ballooning inside him, filling all the available crevices of his body. “I can help. You wouldn’t have to do it alone.”
Kit was quiet for a while, picking at a cuticle. “So, what? A nightclub singer and a biker raise a baby? Sounds real stable.”
“People have had it worse.” He sniffed. “Like me.”
She laughed, but it sounded bitter. “Yeah, you’re right. And me. The two of us would be better than the constant merry go round of shitty, abusive boyfriends my mom always kept around.”
“And we would only be shitty part of the time,” Bastard cracked. She smiled, but it only lasted a few seconds.
“You want to be with me, just like that?”
“Wasn’t just like that. Been thinking about you since I left Andi’s house.” The words almost stuck to his throat. This wasn’t shit he liked to admit. Made him feel weak…like his whole world could be uprooted and stolen.
“Took you long enough to show up,” she said.
“But I did, didn’t I?”
Her gaze traveled over his face, like she was searching for a response. “So what now?”
Bastard only needed one glance to recognize the fire burning in her eyes, the thinly veiled need and lust coursing just under her skin. He could see it because it was there for him too. Even amid the tension and not knowing, he wanted to connect with her in exactly the way that had started it all.
He pressed his lips to hers softly, almost expecting her to recoil, to push him off, to say I’m not in the mood. But she met his kiss eagerly, a small noise escaping her. She wrapped her fingers around his neck, nails biting into prickling skin. They kissed hard, lips mashing, teeth bumping, until she pulled away, pressing her forehead against his.
“I hate that I missed you,” she said, chest heaving.
He tugged at the hem of her sweatshirt, bunching it around her waist. Damn, that was the truth. He didn’t make missing women part of his daily habits. But Kit had done nothing but stick to the inside of his skull. “Me too.”
She tore her sweatshirt off, revealing those soft, spilling breasts that had held him captive at the bar. He trailed kisses from her neck to her cleavage, kissing the top of each breast. A soft noise escaped her, her head lolling to the side.
“You missed these too?” She laughed softly after his kisses lingered at her breasts, palms gently cupped.
“Mmhmm.” He guided her back onto the bed, kissing a trail down to her stomach. He paused, lips hovering over the swell of her low belly, looking up at her. Their kid was in there. Or what would be their kid. He tugged her leggings down, removing one leg then the other. He set the pants aside, absorbing the sight of her. Maybe it was the fact that she was carrying his child…or maybe it was just because he’d missed her. Either way, something was growing between them.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” He’d stalled too long. He shrugged his cut off, tossing it toward the head of the bed. While he tore the rest of his clothes off, she lightly thumbed his arm.
“Am I showing already?”
“Not even a little bit. Except for your tits.” He grinned, easing on top of her, the heat of her skin shuddering through him. Enveloped by her scent, the softness of her skin, the way that tiny smile on her face could fascinate him for hours…shit, he’d made a mistake leaving Andi’s that day. And hopefully now he could make it better.
“Yeah. Dead giveaway.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pressed himself against her, his briefs already tented by his cock. She drew a sharp inhale, legs splaying open. Bastard buried his face in her neck, drinking every last drop of her sweet scent. No, he couldn’t let this go again.
“Tell me something,” she said, her voice wispy and faraway. “What’s your real name?”
Bastard nibbled on her earlobe as he thought. Only a handful of people in the universe knew his name. “Promise not to tell anyone?”
“Deal.”
“Baylor.” He pushed off the bed to step out of his briefs, his cock springing free. He pulled Kit’s black lace panties off slowly while she grinned.
“Nice. I like it.” The bed creaked as he eased back down on top of her, his cockhead finding the slick folds of her pussy as if no time had passed between them. He didn’t want to waste time, not with Kit. She pushed him straight to the edge too damn fast.
“Yeah?” He cupped the sides of her rib cage, moving up and over her breasts. “What’s your real name?”
“Kitka,” she said in a small voice. “Kitka McCain.”
He cocked a grin, nudging his cock toward her entrance. “Well it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” And then he sunk himself inside, enjoying the wash of expressions over her face as he buried himself inside her, that velvety heat sending a shockwave through him.
He rocked against her, finding a slow, sweet rhythm, intent on watching her for every change and expression. To see if she wanted it harder, or slower, or softer, or deeper. To make sure this was perfect for her. To make sure that she felt every ounce of his conviction when he’d told her they should keep the baby.
“Oh, Baylor…” her breathy moan cycled through him, lighting him on fire. He grunted, driving into her deep, pulling back slowly, then returning for another slow, thorough dive. Her head lolled to the side.
“It feels so fucking good,” she said. He kept their bodies close, chests touching, as much skin vibrating together as possible. Sweat formed in the creases of where they touched, slick and sensual. Kit arched her back, clenching her thighs around him.
They moved and rocked and bumped against each other, small grunts and long moans punctuating the bedroom, until all that friction came to a head. Bastard pinched his eyes shut as he came, hips jerking as the pleasure burst, cascading through him. Kit quaked beneath him, her pussy clenching around his cock, a strangled moan released.
They lay together for a long time, Bastard stroking her hair, her chest rising and falling quickly. When he pulled himself out of her, she grinning like she knew a secret.
“That’s the Bastard I missed,” she whispered, dragging her thumb over his lips. “The secret Baylor who can make me come like nobody else.”