Lucas by Sawyer Bennett

  "Quit wasting time," she growls at me in a cute, kittenish way as she rocks against my hand.

  But it's not so adorable that I don't take her at face value, realizing she wants to fuck, like, right now.

  I kiss her hard one more time, then pull her panties down her legs. After they're free and I toss them over my shoulder, I turn her body, push her front into the door, and order her as I stand up, "Spread your legs for me, Stephy."

  Her laugh is husky. "Stephy. I like that."

  "And you call me Luc," I return to her as I lean forward to nip at her ear.

  "Well," she says breathless as she sticks her ass out toward me. "How about get on with fucking me, Luc."

  And damn my name sounds nice coming out of her mouth. Want to hear that again and louder.

  I take my cock in hand and rub the tip through her wetness. She rolls her hips, trying to get me on target, and when the head slips into her, she groans. "Yes...right there."

  Because Steph is standing with her legs spread in those sexy heels, I don't necessarily have the best angle, but fucking up against the door because we can't wait to make it to the bed is way too hot to pass up. I work my way into her body, short thrusts so she can stretch to accommodate me. Steph writhes and urges me on with filthy little whispers, and when I'm finally seated to the hilt inside of her sex, she turns her head and lays her cheek against the door.

  I see her eyes are closed and she has a dreamy smile on her face as she murmurs, "Let's do this hard and fast, okay, Luc?"

  Magic. Fucking. Words.

  I pull out of her and slam back inside. She slaps a hand to the door for balance and grunts from the pleasure. I like a woman who makes noises, and I pound into her body to get it from her over and over again. My breathing becomes labored from the exertion of this furious fucking and sweat rolls down my face. Steph gyrates and moans and tells me to fuck her harder. My balls are slapping against her, trying to stuff as much of myself into her body as I can.

  Because she demands it.

  "Harder," she says again, and somehow I manage to fuck her harder, and the fact that she's taking it and begging for more is a complete fucking turn-on. My orgasm starts to build and I grit my teeth, not wanting to give it up yet. My instinct is to slow down, draw this out, but I can tell she's getting close too and I want to watch her come.

  Steph lowers her torso, pushing her ass out more, and rears backward into my thrusts. I've never in my life gone this hard with a woman. Didn't know I had it in me. Certainly never met a woman who had this in her.

  Best. Hookup. Ever.

  All of a sudden, Steph goes rigid, and for a moment I think I've hurt her, then I feel her pussy clamp hard on to my dick.

  "God, yes, Luc. Yes, yes, yes." And she explodes with a violent shudder that causes her to groan as her head falls forward.

  I grip on to her hips more tightly, pick up the pace even more, and follow her over the edge with a roar of pleasure so intense it might be a religious experience.

  Chapter 1

  Lucas

  FOUR WEEKS LATER...

  "To Garrett and Lucas," Alex yells as he lifts his beer into the air.

  I grin, lifting my beer to Garrett, and several of my teammates all hoist as well. We're celebrating our win tonight against the Denver Blue Devils, as it was a clutch game. We've been battling them neck and neck for the top divisional spot, and with the play-offs starting just a month away, this was a must-win game.

  Garrett and I sealed it with less than a minute to go. I intercepted an errant pass, Garrett took off down the right side, and I fed it to him beautifully for the game-winning goal.

  We're celebrating at Hoolihan's, a local sports bar where many of the Cold Fury players hang after a game. We didn't have a spot like this when I played for the New Jersey Wildcats, but I find it super fucking cool. That's because the fans who come here to mix and mingle with the players are super fucking cool. Sure, there are several puck bunnies looking to hook up, which is never a bad thing in my opinion. But the vast majority of the people are just super fans wanting to connect with the team they support.

  I take a sip of my beer and almost choke when Max gives me a light punch in my stomach. As I'm coughing and wiping my mouth, he grins at me and says, "Glad to have you on this team, little brother."

  I give him a playful punch back. "Dream come true for us to play in the NHL together."

  "Going to be a better dream," Max says soberly, "when we win the Stanley Cup together."

  "Amen," I agree just as seriously. There is no joking around about the Stanley Cup. "Didn't Jules want to come out with you tonight?"

  Max gives me the stink eye. "You know we actually do things separate and apart from each other."

  I snicker. "Hardly. You two are attached at the hip."

  Because my brother Max is a romantic and believes deeply in happily ever afters, his smile goes soft at my reference. His voice, though, is teasing. "Come on, man. You've seen Jules. Why wouldn't I want to be attached at the hip with her?"

  My eyes sweep over the crowd as I try to see if there are any potentials in the crowd. Not to attach my hip to, but hip action definitely would be involved. I'm riding high on a victory that I helped to seal, and while Max may be about true love, I'm about orgasms.

  Just before I turn to Max to explain the difference between us--which he actually already knows--my eyes catch on a mass of vibrant red hair attached to the head of a woman walking through the door.

  "Holy fucking shit," I mutter under my breath.

  Apparently not low enough that Max doesn't hear. "What?"

  I shake my head as I watch Stephanie Frazier enter Hoolihan's. "Just a blast from my recent past."

  A fucking amazing blast from my past.

  It's not that I'm against relationships, it's just that I don't want to be bothered by the complications at this point my life. Stephanie, however, made me consider the alternative, if even for a brief time. My night with her was practically transcendental, the absolute best sex I've ever had in my life. That alone had me interested in seeing her again, but the evening ended on an awkward note and it didn't happen.

  But seeing her here now, there's absolutely no reason why we can't chat, and if there's still a spark, perhaps this celebration tonight has just gotten better for me.

  "I see someone I know," I tell Max as I push my beer into his hand to hold for me. "I'll be back in a minute."

  I start winding my way through the crowd, and at six five, I'm easily able to see Stephanie looking around as if she's meeting someone.

  Her gaze sweeps right by me, which is a little discouraging, but then her eyes snap back and lock with mine. And the minute we make that connection, my stomach completely bottoms out. Her face is tight with what looks to be an incredible amount of stress, and she does not appear happy to see me.

  That can mean only one thing, and I know that my life is getting ready to turn upside down. That amazing night with Stephanie didn't end so well.

  I grip on to her hips more tightly, pick up the pace even more, and follow her over the edge with a roar of pleasure so intense it might be a religious experience.

  Goddamn that was intense.

  "Oh wow," Stephanie huffs out as she tries to catch her breath.

  "Fucking understatement of the year," I rasp back to her, my throat parched from the effort I just put into that.

  I ease my hold on her hips and pull slowly out of her wet heat, unable to contain the groan at the feel of her against me. My eyes are pinned on my very happy dick as it slides out, and I know it would not mind having another round with her before the evening is up.

  But then I see it.

  The condom split down the side of my shaft with my semen leaking out.

  "Goddammit," I growl as I slip free of her and watch more of my semen drip out.

  Stephanie straightens up and turns toward me slowly, tucking her wild hair behind her ears. "What?"

  My head lifts slowly and I grimace at
her as I pull the condom off. "It broke."

  Yeah, that evening ended on a very awkward note. Neither one of us could blame the other, as we just had some amazing sex, so we ended up ranting about how shitty the condom was. There was the inevitable talk about STDs, but both of us were assured the other was clean based on past experience with condom usage and medical exams. There was also the talk about pregnancy, and I was not happy to learn that the condom was our only means of birth control that night. Stephanie said she could see a doctor the following day and get the morning-after pill, which gave me a level of comfort I'm guessing I shouldn't have relied on based on the way she's looking at me.

  Stephanie stops in place and I continue to walk toward her. She watches me warily, and there is no doubt my mind that she is standing in this bar tonight looking only for me.

  As soon as I reach her, she says, "Can we talk in private?"

  "Yeah," I croak.

  I sure as fuck don't want to talk and hear what she has to say, but there's no way I can avoid it. She simply turns and pushes back through the crowd to the door, walking outside. I follow her like I'm being led to the gallows.

  There's a crowd hanging out front, so Stephanie continues to walk through the parking lot, stopping near a small silver economy car. She leans back against the hood, crosses her arms protectively over her chest, and says, "I've been trying to reach you for two days. I've left messages through the Cold Fury office for you to contact me."

  I shake my head at her. "I didn't get your messages and I probably would never have, as they don't pass that stuff along. There are too many nutty fans that try to reach us that way. You would've only been able to get to me through my agent."

  She nods in understanding, her voice crisp and efficient. "I knew that the team hung out here after victories. I took a chance that you might be here tonight."

  I notice she's wearing a Cold Fury jersey. It's small and fits her snugly, and she paired it with blue jeans and black high heel boots. She looks fucking amazing, but I really can't even appreciate it right now.

  "I'm pregnant," she says in a voice so low I almost don't hear it.

  But I do. I was waiting for it. There can be no other reason why she was here.

  It's been exactly four weeks since the night we were together, and I have to be honest, I didn't worry about whether or not she could be pregnant. I simply chose to ignore that possibility and instead focused my memories of our night together on the incredible orgasms we had. Besides, she took the morning-after pill, didn't she?

  "I thought you were going to go to the doctor--" I start to ask her.

  She holds a hand up. "I did. The very next morning and got the prescription. But it's not a hundred percent effective."

  Just fucking great. I mean...I knew it wasn't 100 percent effective, but I refused to think that small percent ineffectiveness rate would bite me in the ass.

  "When did you find out?" I ask as I jam my hands down into the pockets of my jeans.

  She drops her arms away from her chest and mimics my action. "I didn't get my period. So I took a home pregnancy test four days ago, which was the earliest a pregnancy would've registered. I was able to get to my doctor day before yesterday for a blood test and he confirmed it."

  Oh my God. This is fucking real.

  My entire sense of well-being and self-preservation rebels against the idea that I could potentially be a father in the very near future. I have an overwhelming need to fight against this. I try to make my tone as neutral as possible, but it still comes out defensively when I ask, "And you're sure it's mine?"

  Stephanie glares at me. "I'm sure."

  But I can't let it go. Maybe she hasn't considered all the possibilities. "Maybe there was someone else you had been with in the week or two prior to me?"

  This seemed reasonable to me, since Stephanie is a sexual woman with low inhibitions and no problems with one-night stands.

  Stephanie's hands come out of her pockets and she pushes up off her car. "I'm absolutely sure. I haven't been with anyone before you in a while."

  I don't know this woman well enough to know whether that's true. I've also been subjected to a nasty relationship with a woman who was after nothing but my money, so I'm not going to lie and say that's not crossing my mind as well. I'm still in self-protect mode when I say, "Then you won't mind if we get a paternity test?"

  The anger drains out of her face and she gives a resigned sigh. "That's fine. I'll find out from my doctor how we can do that."

  Stephanie turns away for me and opens her car door. I watch silently as she leans in and rummages through what appears to be her purse. She takes out a small spiral pad of paper, opens it, and scribbles something.

  She then tears it off and pulls her body out of the car, holding her arm out to me. "Here's my phone number. If you want to know anything about the pregnancy, give me a call. My email is on there as well. My first appointment with the obstetrician isn't until next month, so I won't have any information about how we test paternity until then. Get up with me and I'll let you know what I find out."

  I take the paper reluctantly, which now puts the burden on me as to whether or not I acknowledge this new twist in my life.

  "Yeah, okay," I say lamely.

  Stephanie nods curtly and gets into her car. I step to the side when she starts the engine and I watch as she pulls away, wondering how in the hell my life just got so damned complicated.

  "Fuck," I bark out to no one but myself when she's out of sight. I pull my wallet out of my back pocket and stick her contact information inside. I walk back into Hoolihan's, push my way through the crowd, and find Max.

  Grabbing his arm just above the elbow, I lean in and mutter, "I need to talk to you in private."

  Because I know from very recent experience that the most private place around is the parking lot, I lead Max out to the area where Stephanie was just parked.

  When I turn around, Max's face is filled with worry. We've always been close, even though we're two years apart. He knows that I wear my heart on my sleeve so he's astute enough to know I'm upset. Hell, he can probably tell by my body language that I'm in deep shit.

  This is confirmed when he asks in a slightly panicked voice, "What's wrong?"

  I tilt my head and scratch the back of my head for a moment, knowing that there's no great way to lay this out. So I just do it as simply as possible. "You know that woman I was with the night of that charity gala at the natural sciences museum?"

  Max nods. "Yeah."

  "Well," I drawl, hesitate for a brief moment, then plunge straight ahead. "She's...um...pregnant."

  "Whoa," Max murmurs softly. "How did that happen?"

  "Let's just say the rubber couldn't hold up to the type of sex we had," I say sheepishly. "It fucking ripped down the side. She said she took the morning-after pill but it apparently didn't do its job."

  "What are you going to do?" Max asks hesitantly.

  This is what I love about my brother. He's not the type who's going to jump right into giving me unsolicited advice. Don't get me wrong, I'll get advice from him, but he wants to know where my head is so he can tailor it accordingly.

  I shrug. "Not going to do anything until I find out if it's mine."

  "Do you have any reason to doubt that it is?"

  "Nothing other than the fact that she was as much into a one-night stand as I was. I figure maybe she was with someone else who could have gotten her pregnant."

  "And yet she came directly to you about this," Max points out.

  Yeah, I already considered that, and it didn't bode well for me.

  I don't bother answering Max because that would validate what my gut instinct is telling me.

  That I'm the father.

  And I am scared fucking shiftless. Absolutely terrified.

  I know I sound like a complete pussy when I tell my brother the truth. "I'm not ready for this. I'm fucking twenty-seven years old and nowhere near ready for this."

  Max steps clos
er to me and puts a comforting hand on my shoulder. He gives it a squeeze and stares me right in the eye. "I know you have to be scared right now, and I know you think you're not ready for this. But baby brother, we can get you ready for this. You'll have me and Jules nearby, and you know there's no doubt that Mom and Dad will be there for you, as well as Malik and Simone."

  Of course I know that. My family is the fucking bomb. While I'm closest to Max because of our connection to hockey, I'm still very close to my other brother and sister and my parents.

  "How did she leave it with you?" Max asks.

  "I asked for a paternity test," I tell him. "I don't think that made her happy, but you know after that shit I went through with Tiffany I can't help but be cautious."

  Max nods. He is well aware of the one time I took a stab at a relationship and found out that I'd latched myself to a whole lot of crazy. After just a few weeks of exclusive dating, Tiffany was trying to get me to pick out engagement rings. That freaked me the fuck out and I called it quits. She continued to stalk me for several weeks until I had to threaten to go to the police to get her to leave me alone. I'm not stupid enough to think all women are like this, but I am smart enough to know that this is a possibility.

  "What does your gut tell you?" Max asks me cautiously.

  With a sigh of pure resignation I tell him, "I think it's mine. Stephanie doesn't come across as crazy, and if she thinks I'm the father, I probably am."

  Max takes a deep breath and lets it out. "Okay, this is my advice. I think you need to accept that this is probably a done deal. You need to decide what type of role you want."

  "Role?"

  "Do you want to be actively involved in the kid's life or do you just want to pay child support?"

  The look I give Max says I think he's a dumbass. "Seriously, dude? Do you even know me at all?"

  Max laughs. "You'll be involved. I know that, but I just wanted to point out...you've got options."

  "Moving on," I say dryly. Because if I have a child, even though I'm not ready for it, I'm totally going to be involved. That's serious shit and I wouldn't ever fuck around with that. My parents definitely taught me better.