Killian: A Secret Baby Romance

3. Holley

3HolleyI stared up at the dark ceiling, blinking away the after images of an incredibly steamy dream. I bit my lower lip, debating what I wanted to do. It didn't feel entirely right to bring myself off to thoughts of Killian, not when I was hoping to maybe see him around town. That felt a little too personal or too intimate. It felt as though I had no right to do that. Especially not when he still didn't know about…

I rolled restlessly to my side but then flopped back on my back. The house was entirely silent, I reasoned. Everyone was asleep, and it wasn't as though anyone ever had to know. And anyway, there was no harm in replaying memories from the best night of lovemaking that I'd ever had, was there? Granted, that night had been eight years ago.

Without conscious agreement from my brain, my hand strayed down between my legs, touching myself through the thin fabric of my panties before I dipped my fingers below my waistband and began stroking at the velvety skin there.

The images of that long-ago night were chaotic at this point, broken and half-remembered fragments that seemed almost as though they might have been a dream.

Then again, the evidence of that night — all the evidence that I would ever need — was asleep in the downstairs guest bedroom at my parents' place at that very moment.

I sighed, but I couldn't think any more negative thoughts as my fingers deftly played at my clit, stroking the nub until I was practically desperate with the need to bring myself off. Not that I'd been too far off to begin with after the sexy dream I’d had.

I could remember Killian's strong, sure, and calloused hands playing over my curves, stroking every inch of my tanned skin as though he might memorize it all over the course of the night. And then, when he'd tired of using just his hands, it had been his mouth. His tongue had delved into every nook and cranny of my skin, and he had raked his teeth gently and carefully over all of the sensitive bits.

I touched the side of my neck, remembering the love bite that he had left there. At the time, I had thought that was the only tangible evidence of what we had done. Other than the fact that I had lost my virginity, of course.

I'd been in for a shock a month and a half later when I'd finally bucked up the courage to take a pregnancy test, having missed my period for too long already.

I couldn't help gasping as I slipped my fingers inside of my slick, molten core, and I quickly clapped my other hand over my mouth, trying to stifle my noises. My parents were literally right through the wall from me, and the last thing I needed was for them to hear me pleasuring myself.

There had always been some sense of shame surrounding the topic of s*x in our house. My parents were well-meaning, but they were very conservative, and they truly still believed that a woman should save herself for marriage. And when I had admitted to them that I was pregnant, that taboo had grown even stronger.

God, they were so ashamed of me — enough so that they had sent me down to Louisiana to stay with my grandparents. Of course, they'd come down to visit Cole at least every couple months, but our relationship would probably never be the same as it once was.

I bit my tongue to keep from crying out as I scissored my fingers inside of myself, easily finding all the spots that drove me wild. I had a lot of practice at this, truth be told. s*x with Brian, my soon-to-be ex-husband, had always been fine, but I had never been able to shake the feeling that he was just using me. The thing was, if it hadn't been for that night with Killian, I probably would never have known otherwise. But Killian had just made me feel so…

I muffled a groan, clenching tightly around my fingers as my orgasm overtook me. I couldn't think about Killian's easy ministrations, about the way the he had opened me up and gently worked at my folds until I was ready to fit his girth, about the way he had gone slowly and steadily, letting friction rather than force do the trick, until I was a writhing mess on the sheets.

Nothing like that had ever happened with Brian. Usually, he finished pretty early on and left me shuddering against the sheets. I don't know if he thought my shudders were due to some silent orgasm or if he just didn't care that I was still practically vibrating with need, but I'd gotten pretty good at taking care of myself over the years.

I sighed as I stared up at the ceiling, knowing I needed to put all of these thoughts out of my head so that I could go back to sleep. And yet…

It was difficult, now that I was back home again — in ways that I hadn't anticipated. Everywhere I went, every time I thought I heard a motorcycle, I imagined that it might be Killian. When I was out on my own — on the rare moments when I could leave Cole with my parents and go out for some fresh air — it was thrilling to think that he might see me, that we might bump into one another and … well, I didn't know what we might do, but I had a good feeling about things.

But when I was out around town with Cole, it was vaguely terrifying to think that we might bump into one another. I had known from the time of Cole's birth, despite obviously never having seen baby pictures of Killian, that he was the spitting image of his father. And that resemblance had only strengthened as the kid grew up. Now, it would be impossible for Killian to see him without realizing that the kid was, in fact, his.

What would he say when he realized it? Would he be angry with me for never having told him? He had missed the first seven years of his son's life, and although I knew my parents' intentions had been good when they had sent me to Louisiana to stay with my grandparents, I also couldn't help thinking of how I would feel if my child had been kept a secret from me, if I had missed all of those beautiful firsts.

Of course, Killian was a cool biker dude; I couldn't expect him to feel the same way about having a child as I did. To him, Cole would probably be just a hindrance to the lifestyle that he wanted to lead. To me, Cole was my whole world. I couldn't imagine my life without him — I wouldn't even know what to do with myself. Not that I didn't have friends or hobbies, but nothing would fill up my time and the void in my heart if I were to ever lose the kid.

But Killian was more likely to be upset that I had kept the child, that I hadn't had an abortion or put him up for adoption. But that wasn't very fair, and I knew that. I had never asked Killian for anything. I had made sure that Cole had clothes and schooling and everything else that he would ever need.

Things were different now, though. I needed Killian's help. And he might resent that. No, scratch that— he had to resent that. After eight years, suddenly I had reappeared to tell him that, oh yeah, we had a son together and my crazy soon-to-be ex-husband wanted sole custody of him.

I sighed and rubbed at my eyes, thinking back to the conversation I'd had a few days before with Tiffany when I'd first gotten back in town.

“Wow,” she said, staring out the back door to where Cole was helping Mom with her garden. “He's really grown up.”

I laughed a little. “I mean, he was pretty big the last time you saw him!” I pointed out.

“Yeah, but he was, what, four?” Tiffany asked, shaking her head. “Just look at him now. He wasn't even in school last time I saw him!”

“Well, if you had managed to get down to Louisiana a little more frequently...” I said.

She laughed. “Easy for you to say. I only get, like, ten days of vacation time a year, plus three sick days. And even when I'm supposedly on vacation, my boss has a tendency to call me anyway about various meetings and other projects, just to make sure I'm still caught up on everything when I return to work!”

“You're too much of a workaholic,” I said fondly.

She grinned at me. “Speak for yourself, Ms. Somehow-Balances-a-Fulltime-Job-with-Raising-a-Good-Kid!”

I laughed too. Suddenly, Cole turned and saw us standing there just inside the house. His whole face lit up, and he pointed at Tiffany, chatting excitedly with his grandmother—probably telling her about all the ways Tiffany had spoiled him the last time she had visited.

“So, you're going to tell Killian about him, right?” Tiffany asked, watching my face closely to see what kind of reaction I had to that question.

I tried my best to keep my expression neutral and my tone casual as I shrugged. “I don't know,” I said nonchalantly. “I mean, I've thought about it, sure. I just am not sure how he'd take the news. I don't want him to think of us as a burden.”

Tiffany snorted. “You've spent the past seven years making sure that he didn't think of the two of you as a burden,” she pointed out. “You clearly can take care of yourselves without his help — but it might be nice for you to have some good company. Killian's a good guy; he and my brother get along really well, remember.”

“I'm not so sure the fact that he gets along well with your brother is a resounding endorsement,” I ribbed, grinning at her.

Tiffany rolled her eyes. “Yeah, probably not,” she agreed. “I swear, I don't think I'll live to see the day that kid actually grows up and wraps his head around this thing called 'responsibility.' But that's neither here nor there. Killian's responsible. He's got a job. Hell, he owns a business. And–”

Whatever else she was going to say about him, she was interrupted by Cole tearing open the sliding glass door and flinging himself into his “Aunt” Tiffany's arms. “Aunt Tiff!” he cried, and for once, Holley didn't remind him to use his inside voice. It was cute seeing how excited he was to see her best friend—and she had felt the same way when Tiffany had met her for coffee that morning, to be honest.

“Hey buddy,” Tiffany said, ruffling the boy's hair. “You been being a good little man for your mom?”

I sighed again. I knew that I owed it to Killian to let him know that he had a son. And especially if we were going to settle down there in Millhaven, he needed to know — before he found out some other way. I didn't need to live in constant worry that we were going to run into the man at the grocery store or somewhere else around town.

I had his number. Maybe I would give him a call and invite him to lunch or something like that. Something non-threatening, on neutral ground. Something that wouldn't develop into another one-night stand. I could tell him all about Cole, and then maybe, depending on his, he might want to meet him.

I could only hope so.

I rolled back over, staring at the wall, and eventually fell back into a restless sleep.