Mountain Man’s Accidental Surprise Read online

  “Good girl,” he growled.

  He motioned for me to lay back on the bed, and I did as I was instructed. He climbed on top of me, all muscle and tattooed flesh. His eyes stared deep into mine, and I had a moment to think about whether or not I should tell him I’m a virgin, but the words didn’t come out in time.

  The head of his thick cock parted my lips and thrust into me. I reached around him, holding on for dear life as he stretched me open. I wasn’t sure I would be able to take all of him inside of me at once, but my body adapted for him, and he filled me, reaching the inner depths with just that one thrust.

  There was a quick flash of pain – more like a feeling of being stretched. But that feeling subsided quickly thanks to just how wet and ready I was for him. I didn’t feel anxious at all.

  In fact, he made me feel safe.

  I trusted him to take care of me and willingly gave myself to him. He might have been a perfect stranger, but something had clicked inside me and I intuitively knew he was a good guy.

  He rocked slowly at first, moving in and out carefully. He was in no rush, and neither was I. He kissed my lips, exploring every inch of my mouth with his tongue as the pleasure inside me grew steadily, like a fire, and each thrust stoked the flames, making them grow higher until I couldn’t take it anymore.

  I cried out, screaming his name as the pleasure overtook me. My legs tightened around him, and my nails dug into his flesh as I climaxed. Graham continued his steady movements as I flailed underneath him. His strong body held me down, keeping me in place as I came. And even after my orgasm subsided, I wasn’t done. I could feel another burning inside.

  Graham pulled out, and I cried out, “Please don’t stop!”

  “I’m not stoppin’ honey, don’t you worry,” he assured me. “But I want you on top of me. I need to see your glorious body above me.”

  Panic ran through my body. I was going to be on top? I was in control?

  Graham grabbed my hips, and we rolled over until I was straddling him. I rubbed my pelvis against him, his member sliding against me. The feeling was nice, but I knew I needed him inside me again, and fast.

  I grabbed him and guided him into my opening, sliding down his member. I whimpered as I sat there with him buried deep. It took me a second before I felt comfortable moving. I rocked back and forth, grinding against him. His hands explored my body, taking my breasts and squeezing them tightly. He teased the nipples with his fingertips, and that amped up the pleasure. I was already back on the edge of orgasm, my movements becoming more erratic.

  “I’m—I’m—” was all I could say as a second orgasm washed over me.

  Graham grabbed my hips, helping me keep up the movements. He lifted me and slammed me down against him, pushing his body upward to meet my thrusts.

  A low, animalistic growl escaped him as he pulled me down against him one last time. I felt his member throbbing inside me. He was filling me with his seed.

  We hadn’t used a condom.

  The idea of him filling me, however, was so hot, I came a third time with him. My body shook as I cried out in pleasure until I literally collapsed on top of him. My head rested between his neck and shoulder and I listened as his heart thundered in his chest.

  I didn’t want to let him go.

  Though I knew, when the morning came, I would have to do just that.

  I realized that night that I wasn’t cut out for one-night stands.

  No matter how amazing the sex was.

  Ooo000ooo

  I sighed as I slipped into the seat of the plane. The flight would be a quick one, not much time to sleep, but I was utterly exhausted. The bachelorette party had ended early, though my night had lasted longer, then I was up bright and early for the wedding. Then the reception went until midnight and my flight was at seven in the morning. I would collapse as soon as I got home, I knew that for sure.

  I closed my eyes and thought about the weekend. A smile spread across my face at the memories. It wasn’t often that I was able to return to Liberty and see everyone, and everything had been perfect. I thought about Graham and the night I spent with him, and as much I hated leaving the way I did, it was for the best. I wasn’t naive enough to expect anything to happen between us. He was a stripper; they didn’t form relationships with customers. Guys like that didn’t want to enter into long-distance relationships after one night of hooking up. A heavy weight had settled in my belly as I thought about leaving him the next morning. I had to be very quiet as I slipped from the bed. I was already late and decided I’d shower at Liv’s place to avoid waking him and enduring the awkward conversation that would have followed.

  I opened my eyes and stared out the airplane window. My cousin, Miranda, had driven me to Salt Lake City for my flight back to Vegas. I’d been bursting at the seams to tell her about my wild night with Graham, but I wasn’t sure how my cousin would respond. We used to be really close growing up, but my father had tried to keep us away from my mother’s side of the family.

  Speak of the devil. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, preparing to turn it off when I noticed a voicemail from my father. I stared at the phone, contemplating whether to listen to it, but I had a few minutes as people continued to board.

  Putting the phone to my ear, I listened as my father’s voice greeted me. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end just hearing it. I don’t know when that happened, when I dreaded hearing from him, but the sound of his voice always had an adverse effect on me.

  “Emilia. Why aren’t you answering your phone? That concerns me. I asked that you be available at all times. That’s the only reason I agreed to this church trip in the first place. You said you would be back Sunday afternoon in time for the lunch with the Lombardos, and I’m holding you to that. Don’t disappoint me, dear.”

  My hand was shaking as I closed the voicemail. I needed to call him, but the announcements from the plane would give my location away. I’d told him I was going on a nature retreat just outside of Vegas with my church. He never would have allowed me to travel all the way to Liberty to visit Liv. He didn’t want me partying or getting involved in her lifestyle.

  I had to make up this huge story to visit my friends, which sounded ridiculous since I was an adult, but my father controlled all the money. He paid for my schooling, albeit not willingly, and gave me a roof over my head. To plan such an elaborate, out-of-state trip required Liv paying for my flight and hotel even though I had plenty of my own money. I just didn’t have access to it.

  I turned off my phone as the flight attendants made the announcement to do so. I stared out the window, wishing I could just stay in Utah forever. Maybe one day I’d find my way back, but for now, I had to finish school and play father’s games until I could stand on my own two feet.

  Emilia

  FIVE WEEKS LATER

  How could I have been so stupid?

  I stared at the pregnancy test in my hand. I’d read the directions countless times, hoping I was reading it wrong. But no, it was clear.

  I was pregnant.

  My chest tightened, and I couldn’t even breathe for a few moments. My head was spinning. I’d had sex one time - once! - and I got pregnant. What were the chances? No, I knew the chances. I just messed up.

  Tears welled in my eyes as I remembered the day after Graham and I had slept together. I had briefly thought about getting the morning after pill, but that weekend had been so crazy with the wedding and everything.

  There was a knock on the door, interrupting my horror.

  “Emilia? We need to talk.”

  Crap. My dad. I hurried to dispose of the test, hiding it in some toilet paper. This was exclusively my bathroom, but I still wrapped it up and tucked it into the trash can, covering it with some more toilet paper to hide any trace of the test.

  “I’ll be right out,” I called.

  I flushed the toilet and went to the sink. I stared at my face. It was clear I’d been crying, and I didn’t want my father to question me. I tu
rned on the cold tap and splashed some icy water on my face, giving it a good scrubbing.

  I’d have to tell him about the baby eventually, but I needed some time to think about how I would go about doing that.

  Or maybe you don’t have to, a thought flickered in my brain.

  No, the only way to do that would be to run away and never look back. I was almost done with school, and once I had my bachelor’s degree, I could apply to graduate schools all over the country and be out of here.

  Or could I? I was going to be a mother. What would that mean for my life?

  “Emilia,” my dad’s voice called out to me again.

  I cringed when I heard the tone. He was losing his patience with me.

  I dried my face, and one more glance showed I looked better. I opened the bathroom door and found my father looking through one of my textbooks on my dresser. He and I looked nothing alike. I took after my mother, except for the blonde hair. I had inherited my father’s raven black hair, but his hair was more white than black these days. He was tall and slender, with a face that was long and as thin as well. His eyes were narrow and hidden behind a large, pointy nose that reminded me of a ski slope. I had my mother’s petite stature, her curves, and her round, feminine face. I was thankful for that.

  “There you are, princess,” he said, snapping the book closed. He returned it to my dresser and turned his gaze toward me. I saw the disappointment in his eyes. “I told you we were having company tonight. Why aren’t you dressed and ready?”

  “I’m sorry, I forgot,” I replied quickly. “I can get dressed really fast. Don’t worry—”

  “What about your hair? Your makeup?” he frowned. He shook his head as he gave me a once over. “I guess it’ll have to do. Just wear the red sequined dress and do something with your hair before coming down. We’re meeting with someone particularly important, and I have a major announcement to make.”

  “Yes, Dad.” I was twenty-three years old, yet I still felt like a little girl when I was around him. I was in college, nearly finished with my psychology degree, yet I wasn’t allowed to have a life of my own as long as I lived under my father’s roof. It felt ridiculous to me.

  Almost as ridiculous as putting on the red sequined dress my father had requested. It showed off more cleavage than I was normally comfortable showing off, and the hem was a bit high. Normally my dad insisted I wear clothing that hid my body. It surprised me that he wanted to show me off. It didn’t sit well with me, but I didn’t have it in me to fight him.

  The dress hugged my curves, showing off my ample hips and thighs, and my breasts were peeking out the top. I had to admit, I looked exceptional in the dress. I turned around in front of the mirror, admiring my body and thinking about how in a few months, my shape would change. I placed a hand on my belly and imagined what it would be like when it swelled.

  There was another knock on the door. “Emilia, hurry up. Our guest has arrived.”

  I sighed and hurried to the vanity, staring into the large mirror. I put on some red lipstick that matched the dress perfectly. My hair was natural today - all curls and ringlets around my face. I thought it looked nice, but it was a bit messy. I ran some gel through it and scrunched it with my fingers to add more definition, but that was about all I had time for.

  “It’ll have to do for now,” I murmured to myself.

  I thought about the child growing inside me as I gazed into my own eyes. Graham’s child - if that was even his real name. Probably not. The way he’d looked at me had made me feel like a model or a movie star. I’m sure he would have liked the curls. I pushed those thoughts out of my head, however. No use thinking about him. We’d had a fling. One night only. I hardly thought that meant he would want to settle down and raise a child with me. Besides, I hardly knew him. He might be nothing like the guy I’d had sex with that night. He was a stripper; it could have all been an act.

  Yet, I didn’t think that it was.

  I exited my room and hurried down the hallway to the main staircase of the house. I heard voices coming from the formal living room at the bottom of the stairs. A familiar voice at that. I groaned to myself when I realized who was there and why my father wanted me to dress the way that I did.

  Antonio Lombardo was downstairs, and my father was trying to play matchmaker between me and the wealthy Lombardo heir, though not just any heir.

  Heir to the Lombardo Crime Family.

  I hesitated at the top of the stairs, not even breathing for a few moments as I listened to their discussion. I couldn’t hear much, only bits and pieces, but I had a bad feeling about this meeting, and a weight in my stomach made me feel nauseated.

  Antonio had been flirting with me for months, and I’d tried to avoid him at all costs. I could see the way his beady little eyes looked at me, watching my every move like I was his prey.

  “Emilia?” my dad’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs. I heard his footsteps as he began the ascent.

  I took a deep breath and continued walking down. There was nowhere to run right now. There was only one way out of the house, and that was down these stairs.

  Through my father.

  “There you are,” he said, frowning so deeply I thought his face might get stuck like that. “Hurry along, dinner is about to be served.”

  I wasn’t hungry in the slightest. In fact, the very thought of food made me ill, but I nodded and followed him into the formal living room.

  It was hard to believe that at one time, my family had lived in a moderate home in Liberty, that we were once a normal family before my mother died and my dad moved us to Vegas and got into the casino business. Before he began networking with the likes of the Lombardos.

  The formal living room was as large as our home in Liberty had been. A marble fireplace was the centerpiece of the room, and where my eyes fell instead of on the man waiting for me just off to the side. Photos of my parents lined the mantle, along with baby photos of me. My favorite photograph was one with my mother holding me close to her chest, a smile on her face that radiated utter joy. I was only about six or so in the photo and she died a couple months after it was taken. I’d always felt cheated when I looked at the photo, because unlike my father, I was certain my mother had actually loved me.

  “Emilia, darling, you look stunning,” Antonio said, crossing the room from the bar in the corner.

  Antonio might have been considered a good-looking man by many, but I assumed that was the money talking. Anyone wealthy and powerful enough could look handsome in a custom Armani suit and a Rolex. The man was tall with lean muscle, and his black hair was styled by an expensive stylist. The threads of grey at his ears added a distinguished look to him. His face was a little too chiseled for my liking - all rough edges that looked dangerously sharp to the touch. His eyes were slightly too small for his face and reminded me of a rat’s eyes. They were dark, nearly black, which only made his stare more unnerving. His nose was rather large on his face, and I often wondered why a man of his wealth wouldn’t have fixed such a large nose on an otherwise relatively handsome face, but I didn’t dare ask. It seemed to be a family nose, shared by his father and likely his father as well.

  Antonio took my hand in his and placed a kiss on the knuckles. Feeling his lips against my flesh filled me with unease. My hand was shaking as he continued holding it.

  “Are you cold, darling?” he asked, rubbing my hand between both of his.

  “No, I’m fine,” I said, pulling my hand away as gently as I could.

  I knew my greeting was less than suitable for a man like Antonio. He expected me to fawn all over him, to flirt back. But I had no interest in entertaining the likes of him. As soon as I could, I planned to move out of my dad’s home and leave this life behind. I didn’t agree with any of it, and now that I knew exactly what my father was up to, I had no intention of being part of it.

  “Dinner is served,” our maid called from the doorway to the dining room.

  “Thank you, Angelica.” I
was often the only person who acknowledged she existed.

  My father motioned for us to follow him into the dining room. Antonio let me lead the way. Only one reason for that - I could feel his eyes on my ass as I hurried to take my seat.

  Antonio pulled out my seat for me, and I eagerly sat down, hoping it would keep his eyes off my assets. He took a seat next to me, sitting far too close for my liking. His cologne was making me sick to my stomach – almost as much as the way his eyes nearly popped from his skull to look at my cleavage. I felt like I was on display, goods to be sold, and I blamed my father as anger flitted through me.

  Angelica served us, but I couldn’t be bothered to eat the fancy steak. Only the best cuts for Antonio, of course, but I merely pushed it around on my plate. Dinner was a relatively silent affair as the two men ate with relish, completely ignoring the fact that I wasn’t eating.

  My father clapped his hands together, causing me to jump, as he finished his meal. “Oh Emilia, my sweet daughter, I have some amazing news for you today.”

  The way he announced it sent a chill down my spine. I didn’t answer, hoping he would continue. After a moment of me staring at him, he finally continued speaking.

  “Antonio has requested your hand in marriage,” my father announced gleefully. “And I have happily accepted his offer.”

  I dropped my fork, and it clattered against the fine china. My jaw practically hit the floor. “Excuse me?”

  His smile dimmed, but he corrected it quickly. The look in his eyes was frightening, but I only returned his gaze. “You are now engaged to this find young man.”

  “Don’t I get a say in this?” I stammered.

  My father’s eyes narrowed; he looked as disappointed with me as when I told him I intended to go to college. And he looked angry. “Any woman alive would be happy to enter into this partnership. I don’t understand why you would disagree.”

  “Because I don’t want to get married, for one thing.” There were a million other reasons I could list, but ultimately, the most important one was that I didn’t want to. “I’m planning on going away to graduate school next year and—”