His Baby: A Babycrazy Romance Read online

  But not the alpha male. Mace is bent over, taking my butt fucking like a pro. He’s moaning now, eyes closed as my fingers disappear again between those muscled cheeks, his legs parting of their own accord to let me get in deeper. And I’m creaming so hard now that I know I need more. I can’t just go on without tasting his cock. So I stop for a moment, withdrawing my fingers with an audible sucking sound.

  “Just a moment,” I say, breathing against his butthole. “Let me get comfortable and I’ll do you again.”

  And in a second, I’ve scrambled below the exam table. Oh god, the floor’s slippery from his semen because it’s been dripping non-stop ever since this naughty exam started. Everything about this is wrong in every way. My gloveless fingers. Going bareback in his anus. Multiple digits in his ass, when really, only one is necessary. The fact that I’ve kissed his brown hole, worshipping where my mouth shouldn’t touch.

  But it’s about to get a lot more rancid because I position myself beneath the man and swallow his cock in one big gulp.

  “Unnf!” is my squeal, eyes bugging wide as that huge monster edges its way down my throat. “Unnnh!”

  Mace literally roars then. He lifts his head, blue eyes blazing, and lets out a bellow worthy of a male lion.

  “Fuuuuck!” comes that hiss. “Fuck me!”

  And I don’t waste a second. This is my dream come true. I’ve got a guy whose enormous cock is buried in my throat, his nude form mine for the taking. And with soft touches, my hands move up his thighs and to that butthole once again, probing the dark star before pushing inside once more.

  “FUCK!” Mace jerks with the penetration. “Fuck fuck fuck!”

  Because this is heaven. I’ve got horse cock in my mouth and my fingers in the alpha male’s anus. Furiously, I pump while sucking hard, my eyes rolling up in my head with pleasure. But I’ve underestimated things because evidently, the double pleasure shoves Mace over the edge. Those strong thighs quake, a low roar building in the pit of his stomach and then those tight ass cheeks clamp on my fingers, almost breaking them off.

  “SHIT!” he bellows, male hands gripping the edges of the exam table so hard that his knuckles are bone white. “Fuck shit fuck!”

  And that huge rod jerks in my mouth before spewing great gusts of white down my throat. Oh god, oh god! Semen is pouring into my stomach and I swallow hungrily as my pussy clenches and clamps below.

  Because Mace Jackson has that effect on me. The man hasn’t touched me at all. Not one swipe at my breasts or my pussy, and yet my cunt begins orgasming on its own, sweet cream bursting from my hole in rapturous ecstasy.

  “Mmm!” I moan, sucking hard even as my cunt shivers and shakes. The pleasure’s so overwhelming that my vision actually goes black for a moment as sperm fills my mouth. “Mmmm!”

  Oh god. He’s so warm, wet, and sticky and I swallow every drop hungrily, still crouched beneath the exam table with my fingers in his butt. But everything has to end at some point, and after depositing a gallon of jism in my hungry mouth, his cock finally jerks to a finish. I pull that huge bike tire from my mouth and cough roughly once it’s out.

  “Shit baby,” Mace rasps above me, stroking brown curls back from my forehead. “You okay?”

  I gasp for air, bent over a bit. But everything is fine. Better than that. It’s amazing because I’ve never had semen so good, and his aftertaste is a salty musk in my mouth, making me swallow again hungrily while trying to recapture the moment.

  I turn wide brown eyes up at him, my pussy still shuddering a bit below.

  “I’m good,” is my breathless mewl, voice raspy. “That was amazing,” I add on a whisper. “But Mr. Jackson, I want to be sure. Do you mind coming back again in seven days for a follow-up appointment? Next week I’ll have more time, and I’ll be able to do a more thorough exam.”

  Light flares in his blue eyes as he leans forward to kiss me. Holy fuck. His lips are commanding and masterful, and yet when he pulls back, I can see that he’s under the spell as well.

  “Of course,” comes that low rumble. “A week, you said? Let’s make the appointment now.”

  And with a small smile, I get to my feet and our mouths meet naturally, the liplock soul-consuming even as my breasts heave and pussy clenches again. Because oh god, being with this man was amazing … and now I desperately want his babies.

  Chapter 6

  Melissa

  After Mace left the office, Leonie immediately popped her head in with a sly smile.

  “How was it?” she asked. And I grab my purse with my own devious grin.

  “I’ll tell you over lunch at Westville,” I say, standing up quickly. “Do we have some extra paper towels, by the way? I kind of made a mess with this one,” is my wry reply.

  Leonie’s eyes shoot down to the puddle on the floor and her mouth drops open.

  “Is that what I think it is?” comes her slow question before those blue fly to mine. “Oh my god, are you serious?”

  I rummage through the cabinets before locating a roll of paper towels. Putting my purse down, I drop to my knees and begin mopping furiously.

  “It is,” I mumble, cheeks red. “It totally is, and I don’t want Brenda to have to clean this up. It’s not her job.”

  Leonie just shakes her head.

  “Holy shit, you’ll have to tell me all about it,” she says. “Let me just grab my purse.”

  So now we’re at Westville bistro, enjoying our salads. Or rather, we’ve both ordered food but can hardly taste what’s going into our guts.

  “Are you serious?” she gasps again. “So you did him bareback?”

  “Well, not bareback in the sense of you know, him in me. But bareback in the sense of my finger in him, yes.”

  She practically spits out her quinoa.

  “Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit.”

  “Don’t judge,” I say quickly. But of course, Leonie has to say something. She’s my medical partner, and half of this business belongs to her. We have malpractice insurance, but surely, the insurance adjuster never envisioned a scenario like this.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing,” is her dark remark, taking another bite of kale. “You know our premiums are already high enough as is.”

  I nod, taking a delicate swallow of creamy tomato soup.

  “I know,” is my reply. “But I can feel it in my bones, Leonie. He’s the one.”

  Now my friend puts down her fork.

  “You’re shitting me, Melly. You don’t know him. You just met him!”

  I nod, but there’s determination in my eyes.

  “He’s the one, Leonie. I swear on my mother’s grave. I can feel the vibes in the air. He’s the one.”

  My buddy rolls her eyes and sighs then.

  “Seriously Mel. For a smart girl, sometimes you’re such a dreamer. This is reality, not one of your romance novels!”

  But I stick to my guns, popping another French fry into my mouth.

  “I know, Leo. But seriously, we’ve had this talk so many times before. You know, how medical school left us no time for dating. How residency was our boyfriend. How all the guys we know are spineless weaklings. This guy is different. He’s going to be the daddy of my babies.”

  And Leonie heaves another huge sigh, knowing that it’s useless to talk to me. Because everything I just laid out is true. Our lives have been so busy since our undergrad days, that we haven’t had much opportunity to get out. And the duds I met were like Darren. Limp weaklings who had weird BO and an inflated sense of self. So yeah, my baby instincts are turned up high now. I’m thirty, with nary a possibility in sight. My ovaries are shriveling at this very moment, but when they saw Mace Jackson, everything changed. They plumped up, and I could almost feel my eggs being drawn to this man’s semen.

  But Leonie thinks I’ve gone batshit crazy.

  “This isn’t one of your romance novels,” she warns again. “In those books, they always end up getting knocked up by Fabio. But how do you know Mace Jackson is Fab
io? That’s the thing, Melly. You don’t know him at all.”

  But I shake my head.

  “But I don’t want him to be Fabio,” is my airy reply. “Besides Fabio is fake. He’s a male model who sells fake margarine to housewives. This is different because look,” I say pulling out my phone. “Mace Jackson is some type of corporate tycoon. He has a business that’s worth two billion dollars.”

  Leonie seizes my phone from my hand.

  “Gimme that,” she mutters impatiently. “I can’t believe you’ve been stalking a patient,” she complains.

  But I’m not fazed at all.

  “It’s the first thing that pops up when you google him,” I add airily, taking another bite of kale. “But see what I mean? He owns a construction outfit, and it says there that his real estate holdings are in the billions.”

  Leonie just shakes her head.

  “So he’s in real estate,” she says. “But that doesn’t make him a good father. Listen to me, Melly. Your hormones are raging. Mine are too. We’re thirty something girls in the city with few prospects, and no time to meet men. But try and get a grip, Melly. No seriously, listen to me. You can’t go off on some crazy idea just because a hot guy walks in and lets you kiss his ass. Literally, kiss his ass.”

  I laugh at her quip because Leonie’s funny, and she’s right too. I did kiss his back hole, and I don’t know this man from Adam. At least not yet. But possibility hangs thick in the air when it comes to Mace Jackson ... and given our recent escapade, I’d say the chances are good that this man will become my baby daddy.

  Chapter 7

  Mace

  Holy shit. I haven’t thought of anything but Dr. Carter since my appointment three days ago. The curvy brunette’s ruled my dreams, both asleep and awake. Shit, I haven’t even gotten many z’s because I’m re-living our naughty encounter as I lay in bed tossing and turning.

  After all, that was a prostate exam and then some. I went in expecting some wizened old lady with arthritic hands and a cold, cackly laugh. But instead, I got a sweet brunette with a fucking filthy mind. Oh yeah, this isn’t some innocent virgin who’s never been touched. This is a feisty female who sucked my dick and crammed three fingers into my butthole at the same time. Not only that, but she came hard without me touching her. Holy shit. I didn’t even know that was possible. Of course, girls cream around me all the time, but I’ve never had one come solely from arousal and excitement, without me stroking her clit or plunging deep into her depths.

  So yeah, I have to get more. I have to see Melissa again, and fortunately, my follow-up appointment is tomorrow. Whistling, I arrive home, glancing at the clock with my mail scattered on the counter. Less than twenty-four hours before we meet again. Perfect. This time, I intend on kissing her pussy, and maybe sucking a boobie or two before making the brunette come … with my dick stuffed deep into her cunt this time.

  Because I’ve dated up a storm in my life. You don’t get to four decades without meeting a lot of women. Plus, the fact that I’m rich with my own construction outfit seems to draw the ladies like bees to honey. It’s as if they can smell greenbacks in the air, their spidey sense going off like a siren when I’m around. Rich man alert! Alpha male on the premises!

  But there are very few keepers in life, and I haven’t had the good fortune of meeting the right one yet. Which kind of worries me, to be honest, because it’s not for lack of opportunity. The ladies throw themselves at me non-stop, so why haven’t I encountered a girl who’s wholesome and sweet, yet dirty as fuck at the same time? It seems they’re either one hundred percent hooches, or plain Jane duds with the personality of clay. There hasn’t been anyone who’s really caught my eye in a while, although plenty of women have tried.

  Except now, I’ve met Dr. Melissa Carter. Shit, she was beautiful. And talented. And intelligent. And obviously, dirty as fuck with how she gave me a prostate exam. In fact, did that even count? Or is my follow-up going to be just more of the same? I’m torn because I want more of the same, and yet at the same time, prostate cancer is a real problem in my family. In fact, it’s made me re-think some of my priorities because if I need to battle a serious illness, then what should I be focusing on during the here and now? If I have a limited time on this earth, then should I really be chasing skirt and acting like an asshole, or should I be finding a good woman to make babies with?

  After all, I can’t have kids while going through chemo. I can’t have kids when I’m doing radiation, the UV’s gonna burn a hole right through my scrotum. So if this disease actually becomes a reality, I’ve gotta get on it. I’ve got to find the right woman and start breeding her stat before my treatment starts. Because I want children for sure. Always have. I’ve always envisioned myself with a passel of rugrats, at least five or six underfoot. And my family’s medical history has suddenly lit a fire under my ass, making the prospect of babies with the right woman sounds awfully good right now.

  But before my thoughts get carried away, an envelope on the counter catches my eye. Oh shit. It’s from Melissa’s office. She’s not rescheduling, is she? My body tingles from the mere thought of that sweet female form, and I rip it open, impatient to see what’s inside. Some papers flutter to the ground. What the hell is this?

  Bending over, I pick up the sheaf of notes. Hmm, lab results. It’s all gibberish to me and I scowl, my eyes barely able to focus on the tiny print. Thank god there’s a cover letter explaining what this is all about.

  But then the air leaves my chest because shit! The letter’s clearly a form letter, but still, the news isn’t good. Please call our office immediately to discuss your lab results, the first sentence reads. Oh fuck. What the hell? The way these doctors work is that no news is good news. So when you get something with words like this, it means the shit has hit the fan. FUCK! What do I do?

  My hand fumbles with my cell but the damned thing drops from my fist and skitters across the kitchen floor. In a rage, I get into my car and drive like a demon down the highway. Sure, my appointment is tomorrow, but I can’t wait until then. I need to see Melissa now.

  “Mr. Jackson!” greets Brenda the receptionist. Her eyebrows fly up so high they practically paste themselves onto the ceiling. “We didn’t expect you until tomorrow.”

  “Where’s Melissa?” I snarl, practically baring my teeth at her. “I need to see her now.”

  Brenda trembles a bit in her seat, those blue eyes blinking owlishly behind her glasses.

  “Um, Dr. Carter is with a patient,” she says. “But I’ll let you know as soon as she’s free?”

  I snarl again, a literal roar bursting from my throat. Good thing there’s no one in the waiting room because I start pacing like an angry tiger, three steps forward and then three steps back, wearing a hole into the rug.

  “Mr. Jackson,” cries Brenda. “Can I get you some water? Please calm down, sir. Dr. Carter will be with you in a moment.”

  But I ignore the receptionist. What the fuck is this about? On the one hand, I can’t wait to see the sweet physician. I need to fill my hands with her curves. I need to dip my fuckstick into her creamy twat in order to calm down. I need to suckle at her nipples like a baby at its mother’s breast.

  But on the other hand, dread fills my chest because memories of my uncle’s untimely death come rushing back. They caught the cancer pretty early, but it didn’t make a difference. A year after he was diagnosed, Uncle Robbie was gone. And let me tell you, prostate cancer isn’t a good way to go. Your balls shrivel. Your dick dries up. Not to mention, all your hair falling out, muscle mass vanishing from your frame, and the severe dehydration that turned Robbie into a gray corpse by the end. It was painful just to see, and I can’t imagine how it felt.

  So what the hell? I want to have sex with Melissa desperately and lose myself in a fine female form to take my thoughts off the trouble ahead. In fact, I want to pump her full of my semen so that she grows heavy with child. But it’s not right. Not just because of the taboo factor, but because she’s in c
harge of telling me that I’m dying. Oh fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Kill me now. Literally, not figuratively.

  Fortunately, the door opens at that moment and it’s Melissa herself.

  “Mace,” she says firmly, that curvy form hidden by a lab jacket once again. “Come in. Exam Room One, please.”

  In two steps, I’ve swept by her, but not without brushing my massive chest against those huge tits. She gasps, cheeks flushing, nipples going hard, but merely follows me without words into the exam room before closing the door firmly behind herself.

  “How are you?” she greets me, clipboard in one hand. “What can I do for you today?”

  I glare at her.

  “You know what I’m here for,” is my nasty growl. “What the fuck is up with this letter?” I ask, shoving it under her nose.

  She takes a deep breath but doesn’t flinch.

  “Right. Your test results,” she says, inhaling deeply before looking me in the eye. “Mace, your tests came back elevated.”

  I sit down, the blood draining from my big form. Because this is what I expected to hear, and yet facing it doesn’t make it any easier.

  “How elevated?” I ask, voice hoarse. I already know what she’s talking about.

  “Your PSA levels are in the high-risk zone,” she says in a low voice. “I’m so sorry.”