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But to my horror, he jerks away like I’ve got cooties, and crosses his herculean arms over that massive chest. I can see the muscles in his jaw tighten as he clenches his teeth. Wait, what? Why is he suddenly acting like this?

Then I remember the reason for him letting me stay: he’s just trying to do the right thing. He’s just a Good Samaritan who’s still a stranger at best, and he doesn’t want to get to know me. Ryder’s merely putting me up for a few days until I get back onto my feet.

I wish the floor would swallow me up because I’m so embarrassed, but of course, no such thing happens. Instead, I clear my throat awkwardly as my cheeks flame. Ryder notices because he spins on his heel then.

“I'll show you the rest of the house,” he grunts before stalking off. Trying to swallow my shame, I follow him. Quickly, we peek into the kitchen and the laundry room, and then he shows me where the bathroom is.

“There’s only one full bath,” he says in a gruff tone. “There’s a half bath near the front door, but there’s no shower inside, so we’ll be sharing this one.”

“Oh no, that’s fine,” I say quickly. “It’s no problem at all.”

He nods, and I try to act normal because this has already been embarrassing enough. Plus, the last thing I want is Ryder regretting having me here, his space cramped by a young girl.

But finally, we end up by the back door.

“And last but not least, this is the garden,” my handsome host growls. He holds open the screen, and I walk into a beautifully landscaped space, even more impressive than the one in front. A large stone fountain dominates a square of perfectly manicured grass with four stone benches around the circumference. A grove of peach trees is planted in twos around the periphery of the grassy area in such a way that their canopies form an arch of blossoms, and a variety of fruit trees appear to be dripping with lemons, oranges, and even grapefruit, if I’m not mistaken. The whole thing takes my breath away because clearly, this is a masterpiece.

“It's beautiful,” I murmur appreciatively. I’m about to ask more questions, but before I can, Ryder cuts in.

“I have some things to take care of,” he announces gruffly. “Make yourself at home, okay sweetheart? This is all yours to explore,” he says with a sweep of his arm. Then, with no further explanation, he turns and leaves me standing on the threshold of the yard.

I feel so self-conscious. Does this man even really want me here? Ryder’s been so kind from the moment we met, but he also seems so serious and closed-off at the same time, like he doesn’t want to get to know me. Should I try to break down the wall that he’s trying to erect around himself? Or should I just keep to myself and focus on getting my own place as soon as possible?

I sigh and head out into the garden, kicking off my shoes to feel the soft grass under my feet. There are no answers, but the truth is that I don’t have many options either. Even as withdrawn as Ryder is, I do feel very comfortable around him, and a safe haven is what I need right now. That should be enough for now.

Sitting down on a bench by the fountain, I gaze idly at the water, sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Despite everything, I do feel at peace here, but then again, nothing lasts forever. With a frown, I pull my phone out of my pocket and check to see whether Angela has tried to reach me yet. But there’s nothing there from her, surprise, surprise. It’s not that I was actuallyexpectingany communication, but it still makes me sad to think that my own mother’s fine with not knowing where I am, or whether I have a place to stay. It hurts to realize that Angela’s totally okay with the fact that I might be wandering the streets at this very moment, despite the fact that I’m carrying her grandchild.

I slip the phone back in my pocket and close my eyes, listening to the gentle fall of the water as it splashes from the fountain down into the basin.From now on, I’ll be positive, is my vow.I will find a place to live soon. I will figure out a way to provide a safe, comfortable home for my baby. But until then, I’m lucky to have been taken in by a kind stranger named Ryder Landsman, and my heart skips a beat at the thought of the gruff alpha male.

5

Ryder

Ellen’s been living in my home for a week now, and it’s sheer torture. Don’t get me wrong because I’m trying my best, but this is fucking agony. After all, having the nubile teen girl prance about my place seemingly oblivious to her own sex appeal has been driving me up the wall. Her huge tits often sway as she wipes down a surface, or her big round ass and thick thighs jiggle as she walks down the hallway. I live in a state of constant arousal and have been beating off in the shower each morning in an effort to control my urges.

After all, I want to treat the sweet girl right, and to provide a safe haven while she sorts out her life. But now, I realize it’s a mistake because fuck, I might lose control at any moment. And once that happens - the animal in me will pounce, and I’ll have to claim her.

But who does that to a guest? A pregnant guest, no less? The problem is that I love her pregnant body. If anything, Ellen’s even more gorgeous because she’s expecting. She’s glowing, with the serene air of a Virgin Madonna even though she’s clearlynota virgin, and I desperately want to bury my face in those impossibly huge, soft tits. I want to push the hardness of my cock deep into her tight little pussy and make her come. Then I want to hear her soft voice begging me for more.

The fact that she’s so grateful to be here makes it even worse. Ellen’s always going above and beyond by cooking meals, cleaning, and folding my laundry. I know it’s because she’s trying to get on my good side, and I’ve told her more than once that it’s not necessary. I know how to cook and clean as well as any other bachelor used to living on his own, but she simply demurs and keeps doing it. Even worse, I know she’s doing it because she wants me to be happy, and yet I’ve been a complete asshole to her since she arrived.

It wasn’t my intention to be a curmudgeon in her presence. But I quickly knew that I had to throw up walls around myself if I wanted any chance at all at being a kind, decent, and honorable man, and not the douche trying to live out my filthy fantasies. Which, actually, is what I want. So much, in fact, that I basically have constant blue balls in her presence.

As a result, I avoid Ellen when I can. I try to keep our conversations as short as possible, albeit polite. And I certainly don’t touch her, or allow her to touch me because that would be my undoing. But I can tell the standoffishness bothers her. I can tell Ellen feels rejected and bewildered by my actions, which tortures me. If only she knew how much I want her, and how much I want to get to know her. But I can’t get involved because this is a pregnant teen girl staying under my roof, for crying out loud! The last thing she needs is a disgusting old dude trying to put his dick in her to make himself happy.

But it’s tough to resist Ellen, and sometimes I slip up. It’s impossible not to, and I find myself getting pulled into conversations with her, laughing at her sweet little jokes. Even more, I can sense Ellen relaxing as we settle into a comforting rhythm, which only makes me clam right up again. Then I feel like a complete dick, and rightfully so too.

So I try to strike a balance. I try to be polite and make eye contact, but not to overdo it so that the curvy girl thinks we’re friends. It’s a tough road to walk, but it’s the only path that’s appropriate and I need to keep on the straight and narrow.

At the moment, Ellen’s cooking breakfast for me while I sit at the kitchen table. It’s nice actually, and the curvy girl always insists. She says I need my strength for a long day at work, or for a hard workout at the gym, and what she makes is delicious, so I’ve learned not to put up a fight. But it’s tough because even as I pretend to read the news on my phone, really all I’m aware of is Ellen’s curvaceous body as she tends to the eggs.

She’s wearing short shorts that show off a bounteous ass that literally resembles a juicy shelf. I can even see the bottoms of her white cheeks peeking out from beneath the fabric as she walks to and fro, getting this and that out of the fridge. Fuck me. I don’t hear her small talk because all I can focus on is the jiggle of her thighs, and the gentle bounce of her breasts as she moves.

My mouth goes dry and I take a long drink from a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Delicious,” I growl in appreciation. Ellen turns around in surprise. I haven’t spoken much this morning yet, leaving that part to her, so she’s probably wondering what I’m talking about. Her eye lands on the orange juice.

“Oh, I’m glad you like it!” she smiles. “I squeezed it this morning from the fruit in your yard.” Oh fuck, oh fuck. Now that Ellen’s facing me, I can tell that she’s not wearing a bra underneath her loose t-shirt because beneath the thin fabric, I can see the full sway of her enormous tits, not to mention those hard nips poking out like beacons. What would it feel like to suck those pink crests? Closing my eyes, I groan involuntarily as lust ignites, making my cock throb in my shorts.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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