“I’ve already filed the paperwork, Levi,” I explain as calmly as possible. “A family has already been picked out. They have their hearts set on it.”

His eyes grow darker as he leans across the table, his voice low and threatening. “Then they can unset it, because that’s my baby, and he’s going to have my name. I’m not giving it up to anyone. First thing tomorrow morning, you’re going to call whoever it is that you have to call, and you’re going to tell them that the deal is off, do you hear me?”

I swallow, unsure of what to do or say. Levi looks like he’s prepared to throw the damn table across the room if I say the wrong thing. I feel stuck. I’ve already made a deal. I’ve signed the papers. The adopting parents are preparing for my child to become theirs and my heart breaks just thinking about how devastated they’ll be if I back out, but at the same time my heart is screaming to follow Levi. He’s telling me to do exactly what I’ve wanted to do since before the ink had a chance to dry on the contract. I don’t want to give up my child. I want to hold my son in my arms and watch him grow up. I want to experience it all, but how do I do that? How do I hurt two people to save us?

“Levi, I—”

His hand shoots up, effectively cutting me off. “If you say anything other than ‘Yes, Levi,’ I will fucking flip my shit, do you understand me? I didn’t sleep at all last night, I’m on edge, and after this load of bullshit you just dumped in my lap, I’m this close to going nuclear.” He holds up his fingers, an inch apart, to demonstrate his point. “Fucking fix it.”

Right now, I can clearly see his father in him. David Black, the ruthless man who’s used to getting what he wants, any way he can get it, is staring back at me...and it’s terrifying. I shouldn’t be happy about this. Not at all. But he’s forcing my hand, a hand that I know needs to be forced, because I never wanted any of this. Being separated from my baby seemed like a necessity before, but now, it’s fast becoming an impossibility. I can’t breathe for how badly I want to be a mother to this child. So, I close my eyes and let the words we both want to hear tumble from my mouth.

“I’ll call the director in the morning,” I murmur, hoping it will diffuse the situation while silently bouncing in my seat. Am I really going to do this? Am I going to keep my child?

Rising from his chair, his jaw set and his eyes laser focused, Levi motions for me to follow with a glare that dares me to question him.

I don’t.

Leaving my seat, I turn and walk silently toward the door, giddy anticipation rushing through me when I feel Levi’s warm, strong hand press against my back to guide me.

When we step onto the sidewalk, I pause to see what the next step is. Levi hands the valet a ticket, and the young man’s eyes light up when he takes it. I almost laugh, because I know why he’s so excited.

A few moments later, I hear the deep growl of an engine coming down the street and turn my head in its direction. Sure enough, the valet is riding Levi’s motorcycle. When he rolls it to a stop at the curb and climbs off, he’s wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Enjoy the ride?” Levi asks him as he hands him a hefty tip, accepts the keys, then steps up to the bike, straddling it. It’s such an odd sight, him in a tailored pair of slacks, sitting on this slick piece of rugged machinery.

“I love your bike, man. How much did that monster set you back?”

Levi grins as he hands me my helmet. I try to keep my heart from falling too hard when he doesn’t stop to help me fasten it. I know he loves his bike, but I have to assume that he chose it over the comfort of a car so he wouldn’t have to risk talking to me in close quarters. Right now, I’m thankful for his foresight.

“More than you make in a year working here, my man,” Levi tells him. The guy’s expression drops, but then Levi hands him a small, white square. “For a guy I know,” he informs him. “If you find yourself in the market for a job that pays, give him call.”

Damn. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a person light up quite like that guy did as he jogged away. “That was really nice of you,” I tell Levi as I take hold of his shoulders and climb on behind him. “It was pretty hot.”

“You’d better be talking about me,” Levi warns as he pops the kickstand up and aims the bike toward the flow of traffic.

My stomach flutters at the comment. Why am I encouraging him? I shrug in an attempt to play it off, but I know the gesture is lost on him. Once we’re zipping down the roads, it doesn’t matter anymore anyway. I get lost in the feel of the wind on my face, in my hair. The warmth of Levi’s body chasing away the chill. I could live my life on the back of his bike. It’s a special kind of feeling that you just can’t get anywhere else. Freedom. That’s what riding is like. Maybe that’s why Levi prefers it over a traditional car. I can certainly see the appeal.

“You know it’s going to be pretty difficult strapping a car seat onto this thing,” I yell over the roar of the engine.

“What do you think the saddlebags are for?” he calls back.

I can’t even pretend not to find that funny. Throwing my head back, I let loose and laugh. I almost forgot what it was like spending time with this man. He can be so exasperating, and he can also be so exhilarating. He’s the perfect mix of boy and man—knows when to have fun and when to get serious. And I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing both sides of him.

Suddenly, I’m thinking it might be better to keep my options open.

21

I don’t know how I got here, but I’m definitely enjoying myself. It’s gotta be the motorcycle. Chicks dig a man on a Harley. Vista is on her knees, naked as the day she was born, and wetter than a seal swimming in the ocean.

After we arrived back at her place—a shit apartment building that isn’t worth the foundation it’s built on—she tried to give me the brush-off, but being the kind of guy that I am, I ignored her completely and invited myself in.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the bike that got me to this point in the evening. I’ll just have to chalk it up to my incredible, irresistibly charming self. Letting me inside—with a considerable amount of hesitation on her part—Vista assumed we would spend more time talking.

I wasn’t interested.

From experience, I’ve learned that women respond better when they’re made pliable first. So, the second she opened her mouth to...I don’t know what. Offer me a nightcap? I didn’t hesitate to swoop in and kiss her.

What was meant as a tactical maneuver quickly escalated into an all-consuming need to be inside her. God, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed her mouth. And her body. Don’t even get me started on it.

Regardless of all the changes—her tits are fucking fantastic—I still can’t get enough of her. I want my hands everywhere. I want to lick every inch of her body, taste the salt of her skin.

Her apartment is small. Like, I can see all of it in one shot small. So, it was a toss-up of whether I wanted to take her on the couch two feet to the left, or on the bed, two feet to the right. Backing her toward the bed, I had my hand down her pants and my fingers knuckle deep in her pussy before the backs of her legs touched the mattress.

Throwing her head back and exposing that sexy throat to my mouth, she moaned while I sucked and licked and kissed and fingered her until her entire body shook and her muscles milked me with her orgasm.

I had her pants down around her ankles and my mouth was watering to taste her when she called a stop to everything. A shower. She needed a shower before she could be comfortable going any further.

Women.

I couldn’t give a flying fuck if she had stubble on her legs or sweat on her skin. I was planning to dirty her up anyway. But Vista was adamant, so I came up with the bright idea to take playtime to the shower and here we are.