Protecting His Pregnant Lover (Southern Soldiers of Fortune 1)

“Wow. Guess I shouldn’t get too attached to you then, eh?” Olive gave him a teasing little smile, though a shadow of something flickered through her pretty brown eyes too fast for him to identify.

He gave a curt nod. Neither of them should get attached to the other. In fact, they should enjoy tonight for what it was—no fuss, no muss, no-strings-attached incredible sex. And speaking of sex…

He rolled Olive beneath him and kissed her soundly. When he pulled back at last, she was wrapped around him again, her hands behind his neck and her legs around his waist, so close he didn’t know where she ended and he started. Levon rested his forehead against hers and grinned, then kissed his way down her neck to the pulse point at the base of her throat, inhaling her sweet scent before moving lower to worship those beautiful breasts of hers again. He didn’t remember her having such amazing boobs in high school. Like everything else about Olive, they’d changed. She was so mature now, so luscious and full and ripe. He wanted to eat up every inch of her and devour her whole.

To that end, he paid homage to her breasts a moment longer before kissing his way down her abdomen to the juncture of her thighs. The last time they’d made love, it had been in her shower, the warm water cascading down on them as he’d taken her from behind against the tile wall. It had been hot and intense and wonderful. But now, for this last time, he wanted to go slow and savor her.

She squirmed beneath him, her fingers in his hair as he separated her slick folds and ran his tongue up the center of her before sucking on her most sensitive flesh. Olive damned near bucked off the bed, but for his shoulders and hands keeping her right where he wanted her. With her legs around his head, he made love to her with his mouth and lips and tongue, until she came apart in his arms, crying out his name as she orgasmed. It was the sweetest sound Levon had ever heard.

Finally, after nuzzling her through the cresting waves of pleasure, he kissed his way back up her body until his cock was poised at her entrance again. She was right. They’d gone bareback before, so there wasn’t much point in worrying now. Besides, she’d said she was on the pill.

Maybe it was the lingering alcohol in his system. Maybe it was the remembered pleasure of being inside her that he’d already enjoyed three times that night. Maybe it was the magic of Olive herself, but for once, Levon threw caution to the winds and thrust deep within her, loving the tight heat of her around him.

Soon they found their rhythm and Levon had them both teetering on the brink again. Olive’s nails scored his back as he reached between them to stroke her once, twice, before she tumbled over the edge into yet another climax, her body milking his until he too came hard inside her, his body taut with release and his toes curled until finally, strength left him and he collapsed down atop her, careful not to crush Olive as he rested his head in the valley between her breasts, his breath ghosting her skin and leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

“That was…” she said, her words breathy. “Wow.”

“Agreed,” he managed to grunt, still amazed his old high school crush had turned out to be such a fabulous reality in the present. Her fingers stroked his scalp and before he knew it, Levon drifted off to sleep, his night with Olive better than any dream he could have had.

3

Seven months gone, and Levon Asher’s body still ached for another reunion.

He had been ready since he bid goodbye to Olive that morning after—it had been a prolonged goodbye, topped off with pancakes at their favorite diner, and another quickie in his truck. He still remembered how sticky-sweet her lips had been as she’d ridden all recollection of other women out of his head.

That was turning out to be the problem: he couldn’t stop thinking about Olive Owen. Seven months, and he could finally admit that fact to himself. His unlikely high school crush was living naked and rent-free in his thoughts and showed no signs of vacating anytime soon.

But he couldn’t look her up. Not even now, when he was back in Harper’s Forge to assist the local police force. It was his first assignment for the Southern Soldiers of Fortune—yep, he’d taken the job—and, as usual, he went where he was sent, and he was sent where his skills were most needed.

Now what he needed was to keep a clear head, focus on the case, and get the job done…but it was hard to stay on target when his mind kept wandering back to that amazing night. It would be so easy to give Olive a call, see if she was up for an encore—but that hadn’t been a part of the (admittedly unspoken) agreement. He knew how these things went. Olive hadn’t been his first one-night stand by any stretch of the imagination, and he wasn’t about to break the rules of engagement just because she had been great in bed. Fantastic in bed.

“Ugh.” Levon turned off into the high school parking lot reserved for maintenance vehicles, killed the engine, and dropped his forehead against the steering wheel. No more thinking about Olive. It should be an easy self-instruction, especially considering he was on the job.

Levon got out of his truck, yanking the janitorial jacket after him. He shrugged it on, finding it tight in the shoulders, but otherwise nondescript. Hopefully it would throw off any suspicion or questions as he snooped around.

He had volunteered for this case. It just made sense. This was his town, his old stomping grounds. If a gang was really trying to infiltrate the high school—to blackmail and enlist students into drug dealing—then there was going to be hell to pay. He’d make sure of it. He wasn’t going to see those kids endangered on his watch... them, or their teachers...

Annoyed at the repetitive direction his thoughts were taking, Levon withdrew his cell and raised it to his ear to review the most recent message from his team. He preferred voicemail to text, something the SSoF was perfectly willing to accommodate.

Asher, we just got a last-minute tip that some sort of deal or meeting is about to go down at the football field. Head out and find a place to observe. I repeat: observe. No charging in without my go-ahead.

“Yeah, yeah.” Levon pocketed his phone and sauntered to the edge of the parking lot. He took cover behind the brick corner of the cafeteria, then peered out at the field. It was Thursday, just past 1800 hours. The day was damp, the grey sky overcast as afternoon shaded into dusk, but it was still humid as hell. Visibility wasn’t exceptional, considering the fog that hung in the air like a stubborn haze.

He didn’t see anyone. Yet. That didn’t mean he could just stroll around in the open until he found a good hiding spot. He had his eye on one particular location, and he stole through the shadows now to get to it.

The old equipment shed had been the primo make-out spot on the school grounds back in his day, thanks in no small part to the fact that the lock on the door was broken. Something in Levon told him that even now, years later, that issue still wouldn’t be remedied... and his instincts were proven right.

By the time he arrived at the shed, he had noticed two shadowy figures detach themselves from underneath the football bleachers in the distance, and a third on its way from the student parking lot. It’s starting. He needed to hide. And fast.

Levon twitched the shed door open, careful not to creak so much as a floorboard as he slipped inside.

What he didn’t expect to find was another person waiting for him on the other side of the door.

His instincts took over. Levon thrust his palm up to smother the other individual’s mouth even as he backed them both soundlessly to the wall; he only managed to narrowly avoid colliding with a hanging net of basketballs, which could have been a catastrophic giveaway of his location. Their location. It was pitch black inside the shed so he had no idea who this person was, or what their intentions could possibly be hiding in the equipment shed—all that he knew in that moment was that the other person was alone, adult-sized, and possibly armed. Nothing more needed to register to prompt him to go for his gun.

Then the fragrance hit him—or more accurately, the perfume. He was so close that even the conservative dabbing of it was enough to overwhelm his senses: she smelled like fresh flowers, spring rain, and a dark, rich hint of something like coffee or cinnamon (or both).

Yeah. She.