Page 42 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

“I can look after the baby without a doctor.”

“Really? You possess medical technology and a degree in medicine?”

“I have my instincts.”

“And we have a doctor’s appointment.”

Her pouting is drivingme crazy. It’s not just because I can’t believe this is the hill Keyshawn wants to die on, but because her bratty face gets me rock hard and makes it impossible to think straight.

Every time I think I’m getting closer to her, she pulls away. No way I’m letting her get away with pushing me away like this. Especially not with a baby on the way.

“We can discussyour concerns about the doctor on equalfooting.”

Keyshawn wraps her arms over her stomach. “If you hadn’t got me pregnant, I wouldn’t need a doctor.”

I joinher on the bed, sitting next to this woman I have growing feelings for, and fight every temptation to solve this problem with sex.

“Keyshawn,”I explain gently. “This is important.”

“Doctors have never treated me well in my life. And when I had family issues, doctors and therapists screwed with that too.”

She hasn’t ever mentioned the life she had before our lives became intertwined. I want to learn more about her, everything that I can. But I understand how fucking hard it might be for Keyshawn to trust me. We didn’t get here the conventional way. I can’t pretend that I think or feel the same way that other men do.

The only thing that makes sense is for me to take her hand and press it to my lips. She allows me to do that, hopefully not just out of fear. I rub my thumb over the center of her palm.

“I want to do this to look after you, not to punish you. If anyone dares mistreat you in my presence, I will punish them.”

Our eyes meet, and I detect some resistance in Keyshawn’s eyes, but also a sense that I’m making progress with her.

“And what about your past?” I ask her. “Are there people who might make you feel better about the doctor or… everything going on here?”

“I have no one except a cousin out in Boston,” she says,her eyes flickering with a hint of sadness that she hasn’t ever exposed to me before. My chest feels tight. It seems wrong that a woman so exceptional should be all alone in the world.

I take her hand and press it to my lips again.

“You have me now. I’m not taking you to the doctor to punish you, Keyshawn. I want to take care of you. It’s my responsibility and not just that, my greatest desire…”

I let go of her hand, desperate for her not to pull away too quickly, which of course, she does. It’s not entirely hopeless, though. Keyshawn rests her head on my shoulder and sighs.

“Fine. But if they try to do anything crazy to me, I’ll bite.”

I chuckle and wrap my arm around her. This is good. This feels like progress. I kiss Keyshawn’s cheek and tell her, “You have my permission to do that.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Keyshawn

Deacon convinces me to go to the doctor, but he hasn’t fully convinced me that having a baby is a good idea for us. Sexual compatibility isn’t the same thing as working as a team together. Our child — boy or girl — will grow up in this world as a black child. How are we going to tell our children how we met? This crazy idea is one of those ideas that seems fun in the bedroom, but the moment you have to sit there with your thoughts and that warm squishy feeling of a man’s cum between your legs… the idea seems too crazy.

The doctor’s visit isn’t traumatic, because at least there’s a black nurse there. I don’t know where the fuck Deacon found a black nurse to assist the doctor, but Anna is gentle, and she seems very normal and calm. Great bedside manner compared to the other people I’ve had to deal with in the healthcare industry. Deacon spoiled me afterwards with dessert at Dairy Queenandthe frozen pizza I’ve been craving for weeks. It makes me want another doctor’s visit soon…

But I still disagree with Deacon. About this being a good idea. It’s not that I don’t enjoy being with him, it’s just… I’m the one experiencing all the crazy hormonal changes, the visible, physical changes and everything else associated with pregnancy. This stopped being a game whenhechose to bring life into this world.

Weeks pass, and as the circumference of my abdomen grows, Deacon just lavishes un-fucking-real amounts of affection on me. When we have sex, he doesn’t spank or hit me. He doesn’t even pin my hands over my head. It’snicefor him to treat me like I’m precious in bed but…

I still hate him. I break every rule I can think of, and at the official medically estimated 16 week mark of my pregnancy, I have brokenallof Deacon’s rules right underneath his nose. He hasn’t taken me to the playroom once. He just keeps trying to get me to talk about my past. Or engage in these crazy delusions about how great our life will be once we have a baby.

He’s the one who will get to run away on his motorcycle all the time while I’m stuck here…

---