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“I’m a strong, independent woman, and I don’t need you to do anything for me, Gunnar Scott.”
She would have left it there, too, had I not begged her contact details, so I could see my daughter again.
I still can’t quite believe I have a baby.
My sister slapped me upside the head when I told her Viv was already two months old, but it’s not like I didn’t try for a different outcome. Jem was really fucking good at covering her tracks. She truly meantno strings.
Until she found out I knocked her up.
Initially, she seemed almost aroused and kind of into me doing it half-on-purpose, but now?
Now, I’m almost scared to get out of my truck.
I look at the house I’ve parked in front of, and then double-check the address Jem gave me. This is the place.
Cute neighborhood. Safe. Not too busy or too snooty.
She lives with another single mom — the actual Shelby, whose license Jem borrowed, to go out and meet… me. I’m glad she’s not living alone, or with some other guy, but the way she described the arrangement irks me. Apparently, Jem and Shelby help each other out with stuff, which is great. Child care. Rent. Utilities. Great.
It’s something else she said when she was explaining their living situation. Or rather, it’s the way she said it. That’s what grinds.
We don’t need men.
It sounded like I was meant to take it personally.
And I did.
I have a baby girl. I want to be fucking needed. What’s the alternative? Having Viv grow up to have a filthy old asshole rough-fuck a baby into her when she’s barely turned eighteen?
Fuck that.
Where the hell is Jem’s dad? Useless fucker. He should have been giving her love, so she didn’t go looking for it in my neck of the woods. He could have kept her from my depraved clutches.
But then there’d be no Vivvy, and my heart fucking hates that idea.Gah.I close my eyes and collect my thoughts.
It is what it is.
What’s the best way to handle this situation moving forward?
I need to be firm on what’s right and wrong before I set foot in that house. I want to ease Jem’s load and make her smile and give her what she needs, and not cross any boundaries she sets out, which is going to be difficult if she gives me fucking bedroom-eyes as often as she did last time we were near each other. I’m pretty sure she needs another hard fuck, andI definitely want to give it to her, even though I fucking hate myself for it.
She’s so young. I’m appalled with myself, but eternally grateful she was at least fucking legal. What if she’d been even younger when she lied?
Bile burns my throat, and I shake my head. She wasn’t. She’s not. She’s an adult. I’m allowed to want to fuck adults. Even the young ones with breeder hips and feeder tits.
I groan and rest my head on the steering wheel of my truck.
The sight of her, feeding the baby? The wet spot, spreading from the center of her breast to soak my favorite fucking T-shirt? The sweet scent of her milk when I leaned in close or smelled it on Viv? All those things affected me in ways I wasn’t expecting.
If she hadn’t burst into tears when she had, I would have turned on the charm, so I could get inside her again. The beast within me could hardly restrain himself at first. The urge to fuck her right then and there had been so strong, it was overwhelming.
Only her tears and having little Viv in my arms gave me pause long enough to reason some sense back into myself.
I shouldn’t want to fuck her like that. After what I already did to her life, I should leave her alone. And I will. It’s for the best.Don’t fucking touch her, creep.
As fierce and independent as she claims to be, she’s young and fragile and off limits — especially if I want to keep things simple. She’s allowing me into her life, but she made it clear she doesn’t need me. I shouldn’t even want the forbidden fruit.
But I fucking do.
