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Carly’s face paled. “No.”
“Then like Red said, she’s just a single mom lookin’ to give her kid to a lovin’ family. That’s you and your pig husband,” Sig sneered the last part.
“She needs to be protected now, though,” Carly insisted.
“You leave that to us.”
The doctor moved closer to the table, concern etching her face.
Autumn was done with all this. It was exhausting and turning her stomach into knots. But before she made any final decision, she needed to know one important thing. “Carly, you mentioned possible defects. Will you love it if it has something wrong with it? Will you and your husband be able to deal with those problems? Or if it ends up with issues, will you no longer want it?”
If they didn’t, then Autumn would have no choice but to go into hiding somewhere far away to keep that seed safe and out of the Shirleys’ hands.
She couldn’t stay with Sig forever. And why would he want to be burdened with her and a seed another man had planted?
He wouldn’t.
He shouldn’t.
They were not his responsibility. He’d done more than enough for her already.
“That’s not a problem, Autumn. But let’s get you strong. Prepared. Give this kid a fighting chance. Give you one, too. It’s why I want you to come stay with us.” She looked from her to Sig, studying him for a moment before asking, “Is there something between you? You said you found her in the woods and you didn’t know her at all. Has something developed since then? Why do you feel obligated for her to stay with you instead?”
“Ain’t an obligation, Doc,” he murmured, his dark brown eyes holding Autumn’s. “Not a fuckin’ obligation at all.”
Tears began to well in her eyes, making the room and the man standing at her side become blurry. She blinked quickly to clear her vision.
He cleared his throat and finished with, “Let’s let her decide.”
When she could see him again, his hand was extended towards her.
“Red... it’s me,” he tipped his head toward his hand and paused, then jerked his chin toward Carly, “or them.”
She stared at that hand. The hand which belonged to a man who had done nothing but help her and want to protect her, for whatever reason.
“Red,” he said more firmly, when she didn’t answer right away. “Me... Or them.”
She reached out and grabbed his tightly, saying in a broken whisper, “You.”
A look of relief flashed across his face. Quickly there, then gone. If she blinked, she would’ve missed it.
But she didn’t miss the corners of his lips curl up just barely as he nodded and gave her fingers a squeeze.
Fuck, he hated the smell. Horses, hay, shit... All of it. But that wasn’t why he was in the barn. It never was.
The reason was bent over the straw bales. The pale flesh becoming striped with each rise and fall of his arm.
And each strike, each slap of the narrow leather against her skin, filled his ears along with her encouraging words. She wanted him to keep doing it. Begged him to do it harder.
Make it hurt.
He had no problem giving her what she wanted.
Because he wanted it, too.
Not just wanted it, needed it.
It was sick.
Sick.
Goddamn sick.
Why the fuck did he need this?
Why the fuck couldn’t he control his rage like a normal person?
Why was this the only way?
This needed to stop.
He needed to stop coming here.
He needed to find another way.
He just didn’t know how.
When Rebecca’s hands came around to grab her own ass, he knew she was done. That was the sign she’d had enough.
She spread her cheeks and whispered, “Now.”
His dick was so fucking hard, her ass so fucking inviting. He’d missed how tight it was. How responsive she was.
What a horny slut she was, too.
He had ripped off her Kapp earlier and her long blonde hair fell over her back, her shoulders and her face, so he grabbed a fistful and yanked her head back until her neck couldn’t bend any farther.
“Yes,” she hissed. “Now.”
He shoved his open jeans down just enough to free his dick, giving it a one-handed stroke, then another.
His fingers tightening painfully on her hair made her gasp. Opened that pretty little mouth that had sucked him earlier, never gagging once while he face-fucked her. Because sluts like that could take it.
They liked it hard. Rough. The harder, the rougher, the better.
She couldn’t get enough of his belt, enough of his dick.
She couldn’t resist texting him for more.
She’d missed it.
She’d begged him to come.
She said she’d been bad.
She said she deserved the punishment her daddy would give her. And promised to take it like a good girl.
But he wasn’t taking her ass this time.
No, he was taking what she refused to give him. What she saved for someone else.
He was taking that for himself.
Because her future husband deserved to know what a dirty little slut he was marrying. What a whore the mother of his future children was.
