Hurt: A Bad Boy MMA Romantic Suspense Novel Read Online Free
Author: London Casey, Ana W. Fawkes
in a crappy apartment with a sick mother and a baby.
I went into the bathroom first and washed my hands and face. I still smelled of whatever fruity drink that asshole had been drinking. I needed a damn shower. Really bad. So I left the bathroom and opened Jude’s room to check on him. Stars and spaceships reflected on the wall from the nightlight next to his crib. The room smelled of diapers and powder, a soft, soothing scent, nothing but pure innocence. I looked to the crib and saw the small mound that was my son resting.
As I backed up, I shut the door slowly, making sure not to make a sound.
I grabbed a change of clothes and went back to the bathroom.
I stripped down and tossed the bikini bottom and top with the hoodie and pants. I let the water run and warm up and I stood in front of the mirror and stared at my own body. My breasts were full and very tender. Yeah, maybe some guys thought it was sexy or something, but to me it was far from it. I cupped my breasts and lifted, sighing with a small sense of relief. My right hand closed around my breast and squeezed. I shut my eyes for a second, trying to think about the last time someone touched me. Truthfully… the last person to touch my breast was a nurse in the hospital, teaching me how to get Jude to latch on. Before that?
The night of the fight. That night in the bathroom. The night I got pregnant.
The way he held me, tossed me up on the sink. The way he attacked me with a visceral lust and yet he didn’t hurt me at all. He took complete control.
My fingers grazed across my nipple and I shuddered. I grabbed the edge of the sink and thought about doing something to myself. Taking a few minutes for me. Nothing wrong with that, right? I was already naked. The steam filled up the bathroom. All I could picture though was his body. Muscles on top of muscles, built from use, not from being a gym rat. A man who fought for everything, literally.
I groaned and then felt something on my hand. I opened my eyes and looked down. My hand was still touching my breast. But I had leaked a little. The liquid on my fingers made me sigh, reminding me that my body was still in total mother mode. The most important thing I could do was be a mother to Jude. My needs came second or even lower when I looked at the rest of my life.
That was okay. I loved Jude with all my heart.
The mirror had fogged up, which was good. I didn’t need to see my reflection anymore.
I showered, dressed, and walked into Jude’s room to find Leah standing in the middle of the room, holding my son.
She looked at me and smiled. “He started whining right after you got in the shower. I think he knows you’re home.”
I took the baby and Leah thanked me again for letting her stay.
Sure, what was one more person to take care of?
I rocked Jude for a minute and then sat down. He was nestled against me so perfectly. His eyes fluttered and opened. When he saw me, he gave a half smile. It was the damn cutest thing I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if he meant to do it or it was just his body doing it. He only did it when he saw me.
I’d seen that same smile before though.
His father… that one night…
Jude’s eyes were a crystal blue color, with darker shades of blue spotted across his irises. Again, I’d seen those eyes before.
Of all the things that could happen, the healthy baby boy was a spiting image of his father. A constant reminder of what I did.
I touched Jude’s head and started to run my fingers down the narrow bridge of his tiny nose. Five strokes and he was fast asleep again.
I held my son for what could have been another four hours. Time seemed to sometimes stop with Jude. That was his gift to me, something he’d never truly understand until he was grown with a family of his own. Unless, of course, he was like his father.
Screw ‘em and leave ‘em.
I blushed in the silence of my own thoughts. What had I done to reach out to Noah? Nothing. What business did I have reaching out
I went into the bathroom first and washed my hands and face. I still smelled of whatever fruity drink that asshole had been drinking. I needed a damn shower. Really bad. So I left the bathroom and opened Jude’s room to check on him. Stars and spaceships reflected on the wall from the nightlight next to his crib. The room smelled of diapers and powder, a soft, soothing scent, nothing but pure innocence. I looked to the crib and saw the small mound that was my son resting.
As I backed up, I shut the door slowly, making sure not to make a sound.
I grabbed a change of clothes and went back to the bathroom.
I stripped down and tossed the bikini bottom and top with the hoodie and pants. I let the water run and warm up and I stood in front of the mirror and stared at my own body. My breasts were full and very tender. Yeah, maybe some guys thought it was sexy or something, but to me it was far from it. I cupped my breasts and lifted, sighing with a small sense of relief. My right hand closed around my breast and squeezed. I shut my eyes for a second, trying to think about the last time someone touched me. Truthfully… the last person to touch my breast was a nurse in the hospital, teaching me how to get Jude to latch on. Before that?
The night of the fight. That night in the bathroom. The night I got pregnant.
The way he held me, tossed me up on the sink. The way he attacked me with a visceral lust and yet he didn’t hurt me at all. He took complete control.
My fingers grazed across my nipple and I shuddered. I grabbed the edge of the sink and thought about doing something to myself. Taking a few minutes for me. Nothing wrong with that, right? I was already naked. The steam filled up the bathroom. All I could picture though was his body. Muscles on top of muscles, built from use, not from being a gym rat. A man who fought for everything, literally.
I groaned and then felt something on my hand. I opened my eyes and looked down. My hand was still touching my breast. But I had leaked a little. The liquid on my fingers made me sigh, reminding me that my body was still in total mother mode. The most important thing I could do was be a mother to Jude. My needs came second or even lower when I looked at the rest of my life.
That was okay. I loved Jude with all my heart.
The mirror had fogged up, which was good. I didn’t need to see my reflection anymore.
I showered, dressed, and walked into Jude’s room to find Leah standing in the middle of the room, holding my son.
She looked at me and smiled. “He started whining right after you got in the shower. I think he knows you’re home.”
I took the baby and Leah thanked me again for letting her stay.
Sure, what was one more person to take care of?
I rocked Jude for a minute and then sat down. He was nestled against me so perfectly. His eyes fluttered and opened. When he saw me, he gave a half smile. It was the damn cutest thing I’d ever seen. I wasn’t sure if he meant to do it or it was just his body doing it. He only did it when he saw me.
I’d seen that same smile before though.
His father… that one night…
Jude’s eyes were a crystal blue color, with darker shades of blue spotted across his irises. Again, I’d seen those eyes before.
Of all the things that could happen, the healthy baby boy was a spiting image of his father. A constant reminder of what I did.
I touched Jude’s head and started to run my fingers down the narrow bridge of his tiny nose. Five strokes and he was fast asleep again.
I held my son for what could have been another four hours. Time seemed to sometimes stop with Jude. That was his gift to me, something he’d never truly understand until he was grown with a family of his own. Unless, of course, he was like his father.
Screw ‘em and leave ‘em.
I blushed in the silence of my own thoughts. What had I done to reach out to Noah? Nothing. What business did I have reaching out
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