SCORE (A Stepbrother Sports Romance)(105)



And it didn’t take long for me to get close, either. Her gorgeous hair, all tossed about and dripping. Her amazingly toned and bronzed body, skin almost painfully hot from the sun. Her sweet, wet, welcoming pussy, gripping me so firmly as she screamed, writhed and bucked endlessly against me. It was all such a turn on that I couldn’t stop myself. My dick seemed to swell even more, getting harder than I ever thought possible, before I lost the power of speech and simply grunted out a long, low, guttural groan as I released inside her. I grew dizzy and feared I might pass out from fluid loss as I seemed to be discharging shot after shot of thick semen into her body with there being no sign of let up for me either.

As a moment or two passed, though, our orgasms trailed off, our bodies spent and our voices hoarse from shouting. Yet we stayed still, Summer leaning against the side of the pool, me leaning against Summer’s hot skin, and her pussy still impaled by my semi-hard erection.

“Wow,” I panted, even though it seemed inadequate.

“James,” Summer said in a small voice. “I…I love you.”

I was stunned to hear her say it. Stunned, yet overjoyed. I heard her sniff and took a step back, separating us. I turned her to face me. She was smiling but weeping as well.

“I never thought I’d hear you said it,” I told her. I gathered her to me and held her close. “I love you, too. I love you more than I ever dared imagine. I never want to love anyone besides you.”

“Well…” She sniffed again and laughed, pushing me off her so she could look me in the eye. “That may be tricky.” I couldn’t keep a confused look off of my face. “You may have to love at least one other person.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“I’m pregnant.”

We stared at each other for a long minute. The longest minute ever. Her face questioning, my face in utter shock.

“Please,” she said desperately, “please say something, James.”

“I…” I stammered. “I…think that’s amazing.” Staring into those hypnotic green eyes, a huge smile flowed across my face, which I saw quickly reflected by her.

“Really? Oh, thank god,” she breathed.

“But when?” I asked her, “I mean, how? I mean…”

“That first night…” She smiled. “There were enough chances. And I would think you would know how by now.”

“I mean, I assumed you were protected.”

“Oh, I see,” she said, getting out of the pool. She put towels on the hot concrete, and we lay down naked in the sun, facing each other. “I thought I was, too. But I’d had a busy time and had been going through a dry spell with the guy I was seeing. I think I just lost track. I thought I’d be fine, but I guess if it’s fated to happen, there’s not a lot we can do. You’re not angry, are you?”

“No, not at all. How could I be?” I reassured her. “When we were making love in the pool just then, I didn’t think I could feel any happier. But you’ve gone and proved me wrong. And it solves our problem.”

“Which problem?”

“About how to move forward. Let’s just say I know what we’re going to do now.”





Summer



I’d never been to Spain. Lucky for me, that was the next fixture for the Moto GP, a famous circuit called Jerez in the southern part of the country. Only this time, we were not here to race. James’s shoulder hadn’t healed yet, but that wasn’t the reason.

I’d never been more nervous about anything than telling James about the baby. Never, except when I had actually found out I was pregnant. It was the first day on Mustique. James was happily in the land of groovy unicorns and funky painkillers when I realized I was late. Not too late, but when I thought about it, I also realized I’d been pretty fast and loose with my birth control. So I strolled down to the little island store. There was only one, and only one bar as well. I got a stick to pee on—after waiting in line behind Steven Tyler from Aerosmith, I realized later—and went back to the villa.

The little blue lines announced my condition, and I sat still, utterly frozen for a long time. What would this mean for us? I felt a sinking hole in my stomach as I pictured James’s angry reaction. I wasn’t ready for this, and it certainly couldn’t have been high on his list of life goals right now. Then my hands began to shake as I wondered if it could be Derek’s after that unfortunate tryst on my couch. I calmed myself by deciding that the odds were clearly in James’s favor.

Anyway, the Barcelo Montecastillo Golf, a five-star resort right next to the Spanish track, was our venue for this Friday night’s dinner, which James was throwing himself. The occasion? He was announcing his retirement from racing.

The press would hardly report it. To them, it was just another also-ran failing to make it, but he was so loved and respected in the racing community that everyone he’d invited RSVP’d to this celebration of his career. It only seemed fitting to hold it at the time and place of the race, as well as making sure the multinational guest list would be mostly gathered in the same town at the time.

The night went well. James was constantly occupied by friends, colleagues, and well-wishers. He was monopolized, taking him away from me a bit, but I understood. It was his night. And when he told me he couldn’t bear the thought of being injured again—or worse, putting me and a baby through that—I couldn’t have loved him more. I knew he loved it, but he was getting too old, anyway.

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