I love women. I love everything about them, from the way they laugh and flirt to the way they break underneath me when I’m stroking inside their warm heat. I love the way they move, hips swaying and rolling when they walk, whether it’s fuck-me heels, flip-flops, or badass motocross boots. I love the way they smell, like peaches and strawberries, suntan oil, and tangy sweet pussy.

Size, shape, ethnicity don’t matter to me. What draws my eye is their eye. When we lock on to each other in that first initial gaze, what do I see? Are they a good time? A girl who laughs, who has confidence, who knows what she wants? What they almost always want is me. Because I’m a charming bastard with a big cock and an even bigger ability to flirt. I was born to love women.

And I love them every chance I get.

There is only one woman I’ve ever wanted that I couldn’t have. And as I stood backstage in my suit, wearing a wireless mic, and carrying a gun, I watched her standing ten feet away from me in a tiny sequined bodysuit.

Miranda Bartello.

As I stared, drinking in the sight of her after all these years, I asked my co-worker at Miami Security, Ryan Harris, “You ever feel like there was one woman you missed out on? Like the hit you couldn’t have quit if you tried, but you never got a chance?”

“Nope.”

I glanced over at him. Ryan was an ugly guy, big, broad, probably close to six foot five, with a nose that had seen too many fists. He was a quiet guy, solid, loyal. He was also annoying because I almost believed him. “You’re a liar.”

He just shrugged. “I always dated the same kind of women, and they weren’t exactly hard to get.”

“So you only hit on a sure thing?”

“Pretty much.”

Decent strategy for a guy who had zero charm. But Ryan had a girlfriend now, a smart girl who appreciated that he was a guy who would have your back no matter what. I liked that she got that about Ryan. The big lug deserved to be happy.

Miranda turned and glanced our way. Even from twenty feet, I could feel the pull of her. She was even more beautiful now than I remembered. She had polish to her and a maturity to her face. Her cheekbones were more pronounced, her eyes appeared larger in her face. Whether it was age or makeup, I didn’t know, but to me, she had always been a freaking goddess. Now wearing a gold sparkly bodysuit and heels that made her sexy legs go on for miles, her blond hair tumbling down her back, I felt a tightness in my gut and a swelling in my cock.

It was a shock to see her.

Three years was a long time.

But I had known that I might see her here. Hell, I’d been hoping I would. Craving a glimpse of her. Now I was feeling the “Be careful what you wish for” because all I could think was that I wanted Miranda more than ever.

It was also obvious one of the stagehands was hitting on her. “Cover me,” I told Ryan. Fuck this guy. It was my job to keep Miranda, who was acting as pop star Lola Brandy’s body double, safe. We had been hired to watch over primarily Lola, who was currently on stage, but also her team, which included dancers, the body double, and Lola’s mother.

I relished the excuse to approach Miranda, make myself known to her.

The woman I had wanted with a lustful, blooming intensity since the age of fifteen.

The woman I couldn’t have.

My brother’s girlfriend.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, stepping into the guy’s personal space. He automatically took a step back and it made me smile. Little douchebag.

“Yeah, why?” he asked, defensive. He was thin, wiry, smarmy. He looked guilty, darting his gaze around, avoiding my scrutiny.

When I turned to Miranda, I gave her a wink. “Ms. Bartello, you okay?”

She gave a gasp of surprise. “Alejandro! Oh my gosh, I didn’t know you were here!” A smile lit up her features and I felt it all over again.

Desire. Lust. And something deeper.

Everything I’d felt all those years ago when I had fallen head over ass for Miranda the day I’d met her.

When my brother brought her home.

“I ask for all the jobs where I get to see sexy women.”

She reached out and smacked my chest. “Why does that not surprise me? You’re always such a ladies’ man.” Then she opened her arms. “Come here, give me a hug.”

Gladly. I pulled her in to my arms and gave her a firm embrace, indulging in a sniff of her hair, her skin, her perfume. Her full breasts pressed against my chest and I wanted to turn, push her against the wall, slide aside her bodysuit, and make her mine. I’d take the hug for now. She broke the embrace and glanced backward at the stage.

The crowd was screaming their approval.

“Almost over,” she said. Then she frowned when she realized the stagehand was still standing next to us.

“Get out of here,” I told him, voice firm, grin on my face.

My talent is sounding and looking like I’m calm, I’m cool, I’m charming. But you know, don’t fucking mess with me. The guy caught on to my real message and took off fast, walking down the steps to retreat into the interior hallway of the venue.

“Thanks,” she said. “He was a little persistent.”

I almost asked her why Max hadn’t taught her how to knee an obnoxious guy in the nuts, but the last thing in the world I wanted to do was bring up my asshole of a brother. He was already an invisible audience, a palpable wedge between us. “If you want, I can go kick his ass.”

She laughed and it was a sound that made my gut tighten. I had thought it would go away—this deep grinding need for her. But my adolescent desire had given way to something even more elemental, almost overpowering. I was in trouble. Or heaven, really. I was on more solid ground at twenty-five than I had been at fifteen, more confident. I knew myself. But I also knew Miranda still saw me as the little brother and I hated that.

“No ass kicking necessary.” She touched my arm. “I have to go, but let’s talk. I want to catch up and I want to ask you something.”

Anything. She could ask me to walk naked over the causeway and I wouldn’t hesitate. “Sure.”

“I was planning to call you tomorrow actually.”

Interesting. I couldn’t imagine what she would want to talk about other than Max and I didn’t want to talk about his dumb ass.

Lola came rushing off stage, her outfit identical to Miranda’s. She tore off her mic and shook back her hair.

“That’s my cue,” Miranda said. “Gotta go.” She gave me a wave and took the coat and sunglasses an assistant handed to her.

Lola had a personal bodyguard, and he was already whisking her down the steps that led to the private underground passage to the parking garage. She would be secreted out and Miranda would pretend to be secreted out, but just visibly enough that fans would assume she was Lola. It was a bait and switch a lot of the stars used to make an exit without paparazzi on their ass. Lola got the beefy bodyguard. Miranda got a twiggy personal assistant.

“I guess you know her?” Ryan asked, coming up behind me.

Not as well as I would like. “You could say that.”

Miranda was already ten feet away from me but I couldn’t stop staring at her. I wanted to watch her body, her hips, her ass, her waist, sashay away from me in those sky-high heels as she raised her arm and slid the sunglasses on with a brief backwards glance at me. I wanted to think for just one sexy little second that she was my woman. All mine.

I saw the guy before Miranda did, but a split second after Ryan.

Most likely because I was in a haze of hot need.

Sex makes you stupid. Wanting sex makes you a downright moron.

Ryan said, “Eleven o’clock, move,” and started stepping forward right as I saw him.

A big guy. Not muscular, but thick, beefy, with a stomach that required his belt be worn beneath it. He was moving slow and reaching for Miranda. He was kind of diving toward her, his arms flailing. It was not a graceful or professional move, but he was sweaty and determined, and looked crazy as hell. I moved, going straight for Miranda. Ryan would handle the guy.

The fat fuck collided with Miranda right as I got there, knocking her to the left, stumbling in her heels. A startled cry erupted from her mouth and I cursed my being distracted even for such a brief second. I grabbed her by the waist and swept her up into my arms before she crashed to the floor. “You okay?” I asked as I backed her away from the scene. I moved fast, wanting her away from any further danger.

Ryan had the guy on the ground and Lola’s security team had also appeared, along with two other guys who were with our firm, and a couple of Miami Beach police officers. The response was admirable. Swift and sure from all angles. I carried Miranda down into what I knew was the dressing room area. I took her into the first room that was empty on the left.

“Where are we going?” she asked. “I have to go, follow the plan. I need to do my job!”

I held her tighter as she struggled to wiggle out of my arms. “Hey, slow down a second. I’ll take you where you’re supposed to go. I just want to know you’re okay.”

The guy didn’t appear to have a weapon so he hadn’t been a genuine threat but I was grateful for the asshole. I had Miranda in my arms for the first time ever, aside from the usual brotherly hugs. Sure, she was wiggling and distressed, but damn, those curves. So juicy, so firm, so… forbidden.

Her ass bumped my cock.

I stifled a groan.

She went instantly still, her shoulders stiffening. She turned and stared in to my eyes. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make this hard.”

Then she realized what she had said and her cheeks went pink. I couldn’t see her eyes behind the sunglasses. I bit my lip, but the laugh escaped nonetheless. “You did make this hard. Very hard.” I couldn’t help myself.

Miranda cleared her throat. “Put me down, you goof.”

“I’m just doing my job, Mandy.” But I did relax my hold on her, and carefully set her down. “How’s your ankle?”

She winced a little, but put her full weight on it. “I’m fine, thanks.” She licked her lips, a quick swipe of her pink tongue over her plump bottom lip. It was painted with a neutral lipstick or lip gloss or whichever of the two was the one that made a woman’s lips shiny and sticky, with a hint of turpentine scent. Shellac, that’s what it should be called. It wouldn’t stop me from kissing her though if she would let me. But she would probably kick me in the dick if I even tried.

She saw me as Max’s little brother, nothing more.

But Max was gone and everything was different now.

That didn’t mean jack shit though. Nothing was different to Miranda.

“We have to go,” she said. “Can you escort me to the hotel with my driver? I don’t need any more delays. Geez, I think every other show someone tries to rush me thinking I’m Lola. Which is the whole reason I’m here of course. But that guy was huge and could have squished me.” She smiled. “Like a pancake.”

To give her props, she didn’t look scared. Though it didn’t thrill me to hear this was a regular occurrence. But of course it was. Fans were always wanting to touch their favorite star. Again, that’s why she had her job. Miranda was trained in self-defense. I knew that because I had poked into her business over the years. I told myself I was just looking out for her but it was more than that.

“I need to clear it with Lola’s team.” I was still on the clock. “Let me make a call.”

This was the downside of working for a legitimate firm. Channels of command and paperwork. I called my boss, who called Lola’s team, who gave permission. It only took a minute, but Miranda was already impatiently looking into the hallway. I pulled her back. “Don’t stick your head in the hallway.”

She let out a deep huff of air, frustrated. “I have to go.”

“What’s the big deal? I talked to Lola’s people.”

Miranda crossed her arms over her ample chest. “This is my last night working for Lola. I want to end on a high note. Lola is throwing a little party for me later in the hotel and I just want everything to go smoothly.”

“Did you get a new job?” I was distracted again by all that exposed skin. She was more fit now than she had been in the past. Years of dancing professionally had honed her muscles. Before she had been in shape from genetics, youth, and her love of dance. But now she was sculpted. A work of art resulting from healthy eating and a job that required huge amounts of training. I had no idea why she was walking away from Lola’s tour, which was only halfway through its US run. It had always seemed like a job she loved.

“No. I’m retiring from dance. I’m thirty years old, you know. There are girls who are on this tour who are nineteen. I’m ready for something else, to live back in Miami again. Have a real home for the first time in a long time.”

“You’re back in Miami for good?” Interesting. The possibilities to charm Miranda into my bed would be endless. I felt a fissure of excitement. This was unexpected good news.

“Yep.” She smiled brightly. “The plan is to go to culinary school. And have a baby.”

What the fuck. That would be my jaw dropping and my dick shriveling. “You’re pregnant?”

“Not yet.” She licked her bottom lip and shifted on her feet. She looked nervous and a little shaky laugh confirmed that. “I don’t have a boyfriend either in case you’re wondering. I want to have a baby alone.”

The door behind her flew open and a man with a headset was standing there. I wasn’t even sure how to process what the hell Miranda was telling me. She wanted to have a baby alone? That seemed… exhausting. I love kids but shit, I wouldn’t willingly want to raise one solo. Yet I was also totally relieved that she wasn’t knocked up by some douchebag backup dancer or worse, an accountant.

“Miranda, car is waiting, let’s go.”

“Great, thanks, Bill.” Miranda shot me a smile. “You coming? You should join me for the party at the hotel. Hang out for a while. Maybe I can ask you that question.”

“You can ask me now.” She had my curiosity at an all-time high. What the fuck was even going on in Miranda’s head? I had no idea. But I figured she couldn’t shock me any more than she already had with the baby comment.

Wrong. I was totally wrong.

Once the guy disappeared from the doorway and we stepped into the hallway she said, “Okay. I want a baby, like I said. But what I would really like is to make a baby with you.”

When I was a kid I took a baseball right in the eye. For a second, I felt nothing, heard nothing. It was like time paused and my vision and hearing disappeared. Then the shock of the pain came racing in.

This felt like that. For a second, I couldn’t even process what Miranda had said. Then the shock had me saying, “What the fuck did you just say?”

A baby? A baby. With me? She wanted to make a baby with me.

And just like that, I was hard as a fucking rock.

 

 

I had thought about how I would ask Alejandro for his sperm for months and never had I rehearsed saying it in the hallway of the arena with tons of people milling around. God, why did I just blurt that out like that with no warning?

A lot of people laugh when they’re nervous. But I really laugh. Like cackling that I can’t stop. I heard it coming from my mouth and my cheeks heated up. This was so important to me and here I was jacking it up from the start. But I hadn’t expected to see Alejandro tonight. His presence had caught me off guard completely.

“Surprise!” I said, trying to lighten the mood but just coming across as manic. “I’m ready to be a mother and I don’t want to wait around for a relationship that may never happen.” Simple, right? Except I was asking him to get busy with a plastic cup and then disappear for the most part. I winced inwardly. This wasn’t no big deal.

He didn’t say anything. Not a word. He was frowning. I fought the urge to blather on and try to convince him, make him understand.

I forced myself to shut up and wait. He needed a second. This was quite a request, especially considering I hadn’t seen him in over three years.

But Alejandro wasn’t saying anything and Bill, Lola’s head bodyguard, was getting impatient. He reappeared and frowned. “Let’s go.” He pointed me to the doorway that led down to the garage. I went, because I had to and the silence had drawn out long enough to be awkward. I glanced back to make sure Alejandro was following me. He was, in all his muscular sexy swagger.

Damn, Alejandro had grown up in the last few years. I had first met him when he was a teenager. He’d been quick with a grin and had plenty of youthful cockiness. He moved differently now, like a tiger. Confident, muscular, the ultimate alpha male. His grin now was more sensual and charming versus mischievous. I hadn’t expected to be attracted to him, but holy shit, he had gotten so hot. I spent plenty of time around good-looking and built guys. There were half naked dancers around me on the daily. But Alejandro had something special. He was gorgeous and a hell of a lot of fun.

He was no doubt a chick magnet. And he knew it.

After opening the door to the car for me, Alejandro stood there while I climbed in, his foot tapping hard on the asphalt. He bent over, his head appearing in the doorframe, his nostrils flaring. “You asked me your question,” he said. “Now I have one for you.”

I stared up at him, my heart racing in my chest. I shivered from the air conditioning the driver had blasting in the luxury sedan. “Yes?”

“Why me?” he asked. “Think about your answer.”

Before I could respond he slammed the door shut. He walked around the back of the car while I struggled to figure out what to say. I couldn’t tell him the truth. That I wanted his sperm because he was Max’s brother. That really, ultimately, I had always wanted a baby with Max, but couldn’t because Max was dead. Or presumed dead. No one wanted to hear they were the next best thing. I also couldn’t tell him that I often wondered how stupid it would have been if I had gotten pregnant with Max. That I regretted my naiveté. Which made me feel a deep crushing sense of guilt.

I had thought about this endlessly, how to answer the question that anyone would ask. That I knew Alejandro would ask. I owed him a decent answer. I was asking for an enormous gift.

All my rehearsed answers seemed stupid and trite. I tried to dry my damp palms on my bodysuit but you can’t dry anything on sequins. When he slid into the back seat next to me and turned to stare at me expectantly I swallowed hard.

I ended up with the most simple and straight-forward answer. “Because I love you.”

The corner of his mouth turned up. “Like a brother. You love me like a brother. And siblings don’t have babies together.”

He had a point. Alejandro and his parents had been a huge part of my life for years. They were family. “But this would be my baby, my responsibility. I’m just asking for you to… donate.”

At that, I saw my driver glance at me in the rearview mirror. Shit, he was listening to every word. Awkward. But I was in this far, I had to keep going. Think about the ultimate goal—becoming a mother.

“So you want my sperm and then you don’t want me involved at all?”

An edge had crept into his voice.

“I… want you to be as involved as you want to be. As a friend. Not a father.” I needed to be clear on that point. I couldn’t co-parent with Alejandro. That would be a minefield I wasn’t prepared to navigate. “So will you help me?”

“I watch reality TV,” he said, inexplicably.

“What?” I asked, startled. Out of all my scenarios I had played out, Alejandro either said yes or no. He didn’t go off topic. “So?”

“On those shows they are always hiring surrogates and they become best friends and everybody squeals and shit when she’s pregnant like it was a job promotion instead of an actual creation of a human being. Or a lesbian couple asks a guy friend for his sperm and he says yes in like two seconds.”

I had a sinking feeling the longer he talked. “Okay.”

The hotel was only around the corner. We were already pulling up in front.

“This isn’t reality TV. I’m not giving you an answer right now. In a car. Three minutes after you tossed this at me.”

Yep. He was angry at me. If you didn’t know him, you wouldn’t be able to tell. Alejandro didn’t get sour or frown. He continued to smile. If anything, he smiled bigger, which was frightening as hell. I should have waited instead of blurting it out like that. I should have taken him to lunch like I had originally planned. Caught up on our lives first. Then said, “Hey, let’s make a baby.”

This was me though. I always got ahead of myself. I didn’t think of it as impulse so much as enthusiasm. I got carried away. Max used to say I was like a perpetual five-year-old. Except he never said “perpetual.” More like, “Mandy, you’re like a fucking five-year-old. So damn cute.”

Max hadn’t had Alejandro’s charm. He was more straight-forward. Brusque. Misunderstood. Or he had been. It was still hard for me to remember he was dead and I had to speak about him in the past tense.

“I understand,” I told Alejandro. “Take all the time you need and ask me anything you want.” I would go ahead with my appointments as planned to ramp up my fertility. When he was ready, I would be primed for egg extraction. And if he was never ready? I would go anonymous. It wasn’t my preference, but I wanted a baby no matter what. My goal my whole life was to have a child and now I had a ton of money saved from years on the road. It was time.

The driver cleared his throat. “Miss, we’re here.”

He wanted us out of the car. “Great, thank you.”

I reached for the handle of the door, but Alejandro grabbed my wrist and stopped me. I glanced over at him in question.

“Hey. I love you, too.”

That made my heart swell. The last thing I wanted to do was destroy the remaining fragments of my relationship with Alejandro, and the Garcias. I reached out and cupped his cheek. “You’re such a good boy. You always were.”

He covered my hand with his and he held it tightly. “Not a boy. A man. A grown-ass man with a man’s needs.”

What did that mean? And why on earth had my nipples hardened? Of course I knew he was a man. But I was older than him. I just thought of him as Max’s younger brother. “What does this man need?” I whispered.

It was a dangerous question.

His answer was a sly, lustful smile. His eyes were dark. His shoulders tense. “You. That’s what I need.”

Whatever the hell I thought he was going to say it wasn’t that.

The door I was holding yanked open and I almost spilled out onto the driveway. Instantly, lightbulbs flashed. Instinct had me sliding the sunglasses back over my eyes.

Bill was there to catch me. There were people yelling for Lola. I was out of the car and being hustled into the hotel, the whole time wondering what exactly Alejandro needed me for.

Maybe I wasn’t the only one who had a crazy question to ask.