5 Bikers for Valentines

“Stop, just leave me alone,” she cried, yanking her hand away from mine again. “Like I said, I don't need you. I don't need anyone.”

The sound of her voice cut deep into me. She sounded helpless and afraid, and my instinct was to protect her—to protect our child. I pulled her into my arms and found she didn't pull away. At least not at first. I calmed her down, speaking in calm, soothing tones to her.

“Josie, calm down,” I whispered. “I just want to talk to you, that's all.”

“I don't have anything to say,” she murmured.

Is it my child?”

I already knew the answer to that question. She was a good girl, not the type who slept around. What happened with me was not the norm for a woman like Josie, which was why I'd been drawn to her to begin with. We hadn't used protection, which was my fault. I honestly should have known better. But, caught up in the heat of the moment, I hadn't been using my head. At least, not the one sitting on top of my shoulders. Josie was a virgin and my instinct—my absolute desire—was to feel her from the inside out. And that had made me stupid. Careless.

Josie lifted her head, but wouldn't look at me. I could see the pain and torment in her eyes, though. I knew she was having a hard time coming to grips with this all on her own. I could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes and wanted to take it away from her.

She nodded. “Yes. You’re the only man I’ve ever been with.”

I nodded back at her. “I figured as much.”

I lifted her face, stroking her chin, and stared into her big, baby blue eyes. They were wet with tears, as were her cheeks, and it killed me to see her crying. I hardly knew this woman, but she was carrying my child. Suddenly, my world shifted. Not only did I fantasize about all the ways I wanted to fuck Josie, I suddenly felt like I'd walk through heaven and hell to keep her safe.

“But listen” she said, wiping her tears away and stepping back, “I mean it. I don't need anything from you. You don't have to provide for this child in any way. This is my responsibility.”

“Like hell I don't,” I said. “If it's my kid, I'm going to take care of it. What kind of man do you think I am, Josie? This is much my responsibility as it is yours. Maybe more so.”

She bit her lip. “Honestly? I hardly know you.”

“Well, that's about to change,” I said. “Because like it or not, we're having a kid together,” I said. “Which means, we should probably start getting to know each other.”

“Do you think we can go somewhere to talk? Somewhere more…private?”

“Of course,” I said, pressing the elevator button for the top floor of the cruise ship.

ooo000ooo

“You live here?” Josie asked as soon as we stepped inside my suite. “Like full-time?”

I shrugged. “Most of the time,” I said. “But I have a home in San Diego as well. I just prefer to live at sea most of the time.”

“I don't blame you,” she said.

She'd already seen my bedroom, but I brought her through the front entrance this time. She was getting to see my living and private dining area. My suite came outfitted with a kitchen, just in case I felt like cooking. It went unused most of the time, though. When you have some of the best chefs working for you, why bother?

My living area was mostly ornate wood resembling older ships of times long past. I had a fondness for such things. Bookcases lined two out of four walls, and one wall was open into the dining and kitchen area. The fourth had a fireplace and a flat panel TV above it. Again, not something that was used often, but it was there if needed.

A large, plush couch and an oversized chair were the only other pieces of furniture in the room. I chose them for comfort more than appearance, and from the way Josie ran a hand over the material and smiled, I could tell she appreciated the finer things in life as well.

“So do you work for the cruise line or something?” she asked. “Because it must be a darn good job if you do.”

I laughed and scratched the stubble on my chin. “Ah, well, I don't technically work for them. Most of them work for me,” I said.

“They work for you?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I own the ship.”

She stopped in place, and her smile drooped a bit. She stared at me wide-eyed with her jaw nearly on the floor. It was as if she was having difficulty processing what I'd just told her. Or maybe just trouble believing it.

“You're kidding, right?”

“Not at all,” I said. “I own this boat and I'm in the process of buying a couple of others for the East coast and the Caribbean. Figured that since this one was doing as well as it is, it was time to expand.”