Brenda Jackson - His Secret Son

He looked down at her, held her gaze as he made love to her. She clung to him, holding tight to his shoulders as if they were a lifeline. His languid, deep, hard thrusts were driving her over the edge and making every nerve ending in her body zing brutally to life.

He threw his head back and growled her name as he continued to make love to her, indulging her with his words. Her skin sizzled where their bodies connected and the more he stroked inside her, the more her body awakened to the aching hunger he was feeding.

And then he called her name again. Together they were slammed with another orgasm. He gathered her in his arms, touched the side of her face with his fingers as they rode the tidal waves of ecstasy together.

The next morning it had felt odd waking up with a man in her bed. They had made love practically all evening, only to get up around eight and eat some of the soup she’d made the day before with French bread. Then they had gotten back in bed and made love all over again. All through the night.

No personal information was exchanged. None was needed. She knew the next three days would be considered one and done. Chances were, they would never see each other again. They were taking advantage of the now.

“You’re awake?”

She glanced over at him and saw desire in the depths of his dark eyes. “Yes, I’m awake.”

“Good.”

He got out of bed to put on a condom then returned to her. “And what if I wanted breakfast first?” she asked, grinning.

He grinned back. “And do you want breakfast first?”

She shook her head. “No. I want you, Laramie.”

And she did want him. She had to keep telling herself this was just sex and nothing more. When he left here the day after Christmas he wouldn’t be coming back, nor would they stay in touch. The only thing she would have were her memories. Regardless, she could not and would not ever regret any time spent with him.

After making love that morning they dressed and went out to grab breakfast. He surprised her with his suggestion that they get a Christmas tree. That meant they had to purchase ornaments, as well. He refused to let her pay for anything. Like kids, they rushed back to the house and decorated the tree. Their tree.

Since most restaurants were closed for the holidays, she decided to prepare Christmas dinner for them. That meant grocery shopping, which she told him she wanted to do alone. She knew from their earlier shopping trip how he liked to spend money and she wanted Christmas dinner to be her treat.

When she returned to her apartment he was waiting for her. The minute she opened the door and glanced over at him, heated sexual attraction consumed them. She couldn’t put her grocery bags down fast enough before he was ripping off her clothes, making love to her against the refrigerator.

He surprised her on Christmas Day with a gift, a beautiful scarf and a pair of earrings. The gift touched her deeply. He’d apparently gone shopping when she left to get groceries.

She surprised him with a gift, as well. A pair of gloves, since she’d noticed his were well-worn. He said he enjoyed Christmas dinner, but most of Christmas was spent in bed making love rather than eating.

The next morning, the day after Christmas, she awoke to find him dressed and ready to go. Ready to walk out of her life. She hadn’t expected it to be so hard, but it was. She knew she had fallen in love with him. Not with the sex but with the man.

He kissed her deeply, wished her the best in her artistic dreams and thanked her for making this one of the best holidays for him, ever. And then he turned and walked out the door...without looking back.

She’d quickly gotten up and stood at the window to watch him leave. He’d called a cab and, as if he’d known she would be there at the window, before getting into the cab he looked over his shoulder, saw her, blew her a kiss and then waved goodbye.

She blew him a kiss and waved back. And as the cab drove away she knew at that moment that Laramie Cooper had taken a piece of her heart with him.

Three

New York, present day

“I’m glad you guys are finding this entire thing amusing,” Laramie said as he moved around the hotel room to dress. He had placed the mobile call on speaker while engaging in a five-way conversation with his teammates.

“Hey, Coop, we can’t help but think it’s pretty damn funny,” Bane Westmoreland said. “I can just imagine the look on your face when you discovered what you were delivering to that member of the Security Council wasn’t top secret documents like you thought, but her pet cockatiel.”

Laramie couldn’t help but smile as he slid on a T-shirt. “No, Bane, you can’t imagine.”

“Well, just think positive,” David Holloway said. “You got a free trip to New York.”

“Damn, Flipper, it’s cold as the dickens here. I prefer California weather,” Laramie said.

“Stop whining, Coop,” Gavin Blake said, laughing.

“Kiss it, Viper.”

And then he said, “Hey, Mac? You still with us? You’re kind of quiet.”

“I’m still here,” Thurston McRoy said. “I’m trying to keep up with you guys and watch the game, too. In case none of you realized, it’s Thursday night football.”

That led to a conversation about their predictions for what team would make it to the Super Bowl. By the time Laramie had ended the call, he was completely dressed and ready to leave.

And go where? He figured that since he had a taste for a juicy hamburger, he would grab a meal at Xavier’s. Flipper had recommended he dine there and said he wouldn’t be disappointed.

A short while later, Laramie entered the restaurant and was shown to a table. It was busy and there had been a fifteen-minute wait but he didn’t mind. This wasn’t his first visit to Times Square, but he did note a lot of changes since he was here last.

“What would you like tonight?”

He glanced up at the waitress. No one could credit him with being slow and he immediately knew the double meaning behind her question. “A menu would be nice,” he said, hoping that would defuse any ideas she had.

Maybe another time, but not tonight. He just wasn’t feeling it. He chuckled and wondered if he was running a fever. There hadn’t been too many times when he’d turned down sex. And there was no doubt in his mind the woman was offering.

“I’ll make sure you get a menu...as well as anything else you might want,” she said, smiling.

He smiled back. “Thanks. The menu will do for now and a beer.”

She walked off and returned with the menu and his beer. “Thanks.”

“You can thank me later.” Then she sashayed off.

He wondered why he wasn’t taking advantage of those curves and long gorgeous legs. His excuse had to be that this place sort of reminded him of that café in Paris. The one where Bristol worked.

Bristol.

He’d been thinking about her a lot lately. Maybe because it was around this time—during the holiday season three years ago when they’d met. Whatever the reason, Bristol Lockett was on his mind.

After his rescue from Syria, one of the first places he’d gone had been to Paris to see her, a woman he hadn’t meant to ever see again. But something had compelled him to seek her out, only to be told by the manager of the apartment complex where she’d lived that she had returned to the United States a couple of years ago and had not left a forwarding address.

When he noticed the waitress looking over at him, he decided to place his order, eat and then leave. He wasn’t up for any female company tonight and didn’t want the woman to get any ideas.

An hour or so later, he left the restaurant a pretty satisfied man. The food had been delicious but he’d had a hard time deflating the waitress’s flirtation. By the end of his meal, she’d all but placed her apartment key in his hand.