Secret Desires: Roughshod Rollers MC, #4

By Mia Ford

I want my best friend to raise my daughter!

Georgia would make the perfect mother for Peggy. 

My life has been messy since my ex-wife left.

And Georgia is with me every step of the way.

She's all I have.

Her soft skin intoxicates me. 

I can't ruin our friendship by trying to claim her.  

I can't be that selfish. 

Especially since my ex-wife has returned.

She's threatening to take Peggy away. 

Abandoning Georgia is the only way out of this mess. 

What will I do if I have to choose between her and my daughter?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mia Ford
• Release date: Dec 1, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393117858

Book preview

Chapter One: Georgia

Iblink awake groggily , staring upwards. For a moment, I can’t comprehend why two grinning faces, one young female and one older male, are staring down at me, and I frown at them, yawning as I slowly wake up.

Then memory hits and I gasp as my eyes fly open. I fell asleep on the couch!

Ethan! I say. You’re home!

Yeah, Ethan Howard says with a grin, sitting back. Beside me, Lily, her hair as black as her father’s, blinks her twinkling green eyes awake and yawns widely. Sorry I’m home so late.

No, it’s fine, I say instantly, shaking my head. He’s staring at me with his warm blue eyes, and they turn my insides to mush, as they always do. I would do anything for this man. I glance at Lily. Looks like both Lily and I needed the sleep.

Lily huffs and closes her eyes again, snuggling against my side. I hear the telltale click of a camera and I raise an eyebrow at Ethan just as he tucks his phone away, pretending innocence. Ethan has so many photo albums of Lily after ten years that the poor girl’s going to need an entire room to store them when she eventually leaves home.

What time is it? I ask with a yawn, moving carefully and laying Lily down on the couch.

Midnight, Ethan says, moving back so I can stand. The television was still on when I came in, and the two of you were lying there.

It isn’t the first time we’ve fallen asleep while watching a movie, I say, amused.

I have the pictures to prove it, Ethan agrees with a quiet laugh. I’ll take her to bed.

He reaches out and carefully pulls his daughter into his arms. She instantly turns toward him, her forehead pressed against the crook of his neck, and a small, fond smile curves at Ethan’s lips. There’s so much love in his eyes that my heart aches.

Then he disappears down the hall and I draw in a deep breath, closing my eyes.

Ethan and I have been friends since we were children. There are pictures that Ethan’s father liked to show, of the two of us throwing sand at each other, when he was twelve and I was only eight, giggling madly. Our parents, who worked at the same company, introduced us to each other at a business picnic. From then, at almost every moment of my life, from school to graduation, to my first relationships, to getting my first job, Ethan has been by my side.

Once upon a time, when I didn’t know any better, I staunchly pretended that Ethan was my older brother figure. By the time I was fifteen, I had worked out that the feelings I had for Ethan were not sisterly at all.

Which started my downhill slide into being hopelessly, obviously in love with my infuriatingly oblivious best friend.

Georgia?

I look up and smile at Ethan as he returns, Lily down in her bed. He looks more relaxed than he did when he left, as I had hoped; I make it a point of coming by at least once a week to forcibly babysit for him for a few hours so that he has the chance to go out for a little while.

Thanks, Ethan says, heartfelt, and I almost wish that he wouldn’t say anything else. I don’t know what I would do without you.

Go mad, I joke with practiced ease, grinning at him.

Ethan gives me a soft, fond smile that breaks my heart. I’ve known Ethan for twenty years, and not once has he ever looked at me as more than just a friend. Other than...

I shook the thought out of my mind. I swore I would never think about that.

It’s late, Ethan says, and I know what he’s about to offer before the words leave his mouth. We’ve done this too many times. Do you want to stay in the guest room?

I should say no. I should go home to my bed, curl up and get myself under control before the next time I see Ethan. Being around him these days is almost a special form of torture, but I just can’t seem to stop drifting toward him.

Sure, I say with a smile.

Ethan flashes me a grin.

You know where the towels are, he says as he heads toward his own room.

I just laugh. Of course I know where the towels are. I know where everything in the apartment is. After all, I helped Ethan unpack most of it when he first moved in.

The guest room is right beside Lily’s room. I peek in at the girl’s room, taking in the clutter of toys on the floor, and smile at seeing the ten-year-old girl curled up under the covers, sound asleep. She pouts in the morning about missing the end of the movie, or not seeing her father when he gets home.

Then I head into the guest room. It isn’t even much of a guest room; so many of my belongings are strewn around it that it might as well be mine, since I’m the only one who uses it on a regular basis. I flick the lamp on beside the table and look around.

This is the sum total of my life. A guest bedroom in a home I sit on the edge of, beside a man who will never love me. Why do I do this to myself?

I turn away determinedly and get dressed for bed. Sometimes, these moods hit me when I’m tired and not sure what I’m doing with my life, when I wonder if it would be easier to just leave Ethan and Lily behind and find my own happiness somewhere out there.

Then, in the morning, Ethan will smile at me, or Lily will excitedly ask me about the newest news story I’m working on, and I’ll forget why I wanted to walk away in the first place.

I slide under the covers, roll over and close my eyes. Like always, things will look better in the morning.

OF COURSE, I DREAM.

I know better than to allow my thoughts to lapse for even a moment back to that awful time ten years ago, when Ethan was a mess, Lily had only just been born and I had no idea what to do about any of it. When I relax, I remember how terrible everything was.

And I remember what I gained...and lost.

TEN YEARS AGO

At first, everything feels disjointed and out of place. I remember holding Lily for the first time, Ethan flashing me a tired, strained smile that spoke of panic and confusion; he has no idea what to do with a child that was never planned. Somewhere in the background, I remember Polly, too, even more strained than Ethan; perhaps that should have told us, then, that she wasn’t going to last at this.

Then there’s the day Polly left. It’s an ordinary day, and the phone call from Ethan interrupts me as I’m engrossed in a very good book. I couldn’t imagine what would happen next.

She’s gone! Ethan tells me hysterically. In the background, Lily is crying. She just left a note!

She might be visiting some friends, I remember suggesting calmly.

No...the note says she’s leaving!

Nothing seemed to make sense at all. Polly is gone? She abandoned Ethan and Lily? I never liked Polly, but that was more to do with my own jealousy than anything. Yet she’s just up and left?

It didn’t make sense.

Then there’s Ethan. Slowly, as the months pass, he looks more ragged, too exhausted to do more than collapse in bed at the end of the day, only to drag himself up again as Lily cries for attention. I do my best to help him, but it doesn’t feel enough.

One particular moment stands out. Polly has been gone nine months at this point. The memory flashes through my mind and lingers. Ethan is standing on my doorstep. It’s raining outside. Lily is clutched in my arms.

I don’t know what to do, he says, and he’s crying. I’m crying with him, and Lily is fussing in his arms. Please help.

He’s trying so hard, but he just can’t do it anymore. He’s at the end of his rope. I shove the memory away. It’s the lowest moment I’ve ever seen him at. I’m so afraid for him.

And then...there’s that fateful day, one year after Polly leaves. The memories pause and then settle, throwing the world into sharp clarity as I open the door for Ethan once more, this time no Lily in sight, his shoulders slumped and his clothes hanging off him.

I look at Ethan’s bloodshot eyes and I sigh, stepping aside.

Come in, I say gently.

The man looks like he’s about to cry as he scurries past me. I feel a flash of anger. Ethan has always been proud and confident, but the last year has torn all that away from him.

Are you okay? I ask as I lead him to my living room.

He collapses on the couch.

What do I do, Georgia? he asks desperately.

I was expecting that question. He’s asked the same thing several times over the last year, each time more urgently than the last. I wish I knew what to tell him.

I don’t know, Ethan, I say dutifully, as I do every time. What do you want to do?

I want to find her! Ethan says, suddenly flaring up, but I don’t even twitch. He slumps back, momentary fire gone. No one’s telling me anything.

I reach out and rub his back soothingly. It’s the same pattern, always, ever since Polly Truman left him one year ago. I wish I knew what to say to him, but her disappearance was as sudden to me as it was to Ethan. As far as I knew, Ethan and Polly were very much in love, both before and after Polly’s pregnancy.

Then little Lily was born and, three weeks later, Polly packed up and left, abandoning her boyfriend and daughter.

She probably just wasn’t ready to have children, I say. It’s a poor excuse, but it’s all I have. Though she should have said something.

I wish Ethan would be angry at Polly. More than once, I’ve had to hold my tongue from saying something less-than-nice about the woman, but Ethan won’t hear a word against her. He’s angry at her family who won’t tell him where Polly is. He’s angry at the situation that led to Polly leaving him. On occasion, he’s even angry at me, for being there when Polly isn’t. But he hasn’t yet gotten to the stage of being angry at the woman he loved so dearly.

Ethan sighs and slumps down on my shoulder. I try not to freeze at the feeling of his breath against my neck, but it’s hard when he’s so close. I push away my own feelings and gently run my hand through his shaggy hair, as he used to do for me when we were children.

That’s nice, Ethan murmurs.

He scoots in closer, his body pressed against mine. All my nerves are on edge and I feel like crying; Ethan has no idea what he does to me.

Where’s Lily? I ask, trying to distract myself.

Mom has her, Ethan sighs, his breath wisping against my over-sensitive skin. He pauses and then suddenly sits up, looking me dead in the eye. Sorry... I didn’t even ask if you wanted me over tonight.

It’s fine, I assure him. This is different, and my heart unwillingly races at the intense look on his face. You’re always welcome.

Yeah, but you’ve been putting up with a lot lately, Ethan argues. I keep coming over and whining about Polly, and you’ve been helping me with Lily...

As I said, it’s no problem, I say firmly, putting my hand on his shoulder. You and Polly were together for four years before this. I’m not surprised you’re a mess. I want to help you get back on your feet. His face crumples. Ethan?

I’m not sure I will, Ethan confesses. It’s so hard; I keep expecting to wake up. I miss her so much but she isn’t there anymore. The loneliness is the hardest part, even with Lily.

I don’t like that. I’m here, and I always will be. I turn to face Ethan and grip both his shoulders in hard hands. He looks at me in surprise.

You’ll never be lonely, I swear. Not as long as I’m around.

It’s too much, I know. The desperate love I feel for Ethan leaks into my words, and his eyes are searching mine, trying to figure out what has suddenly made me so intense. I stare back at him, willing him to understand how strong my feelings for him are; even if he never loves me the way I do him, he’ll always have a place in my heart.

I think I move first. The moment is too perfect, too overwhelming, and I can’t help myself. Ethan’s sad eyes are breaking my heart, and I want him to know that he is loved, no matter what. When I realize what I’m doing, my lips are already pressed to his.

It should have ended there. But Ethan was lonely and he needed to know that there was someone out there for him right now. His hand rises and tangles in my dark curls, pushing closer into the kiss as his mouth opens, touching his tongue to mine. Any panicked thoughts I might have had about pulling away before this gets any more awkward immediately disappear.

I’m not going to pull away from this, not when, for whatever reason, I’m finally getting something I’ve only dreamed about for years. Ethan’s hands are on me, his lips are crashing against mine and it awakes a strong, fervent lust within me, one that I’ve spent so long stamping down on.

I half expect him to pull away and apologize. But he doesn’t. Instead, Ethan’s hands tighten in my hair, and the kiss becomes harder, more desperate. I kiss back with equal fervor and my hands find his shirt, scrabbling at it as I force it up over his abdomen so that I can touch more of him.

At this moment, things like Polly and Lily and what will happen next don’t matter anymore. It’s just Ethan and me, sitting on this couch, our world narrowed down to only each other.

Finally, we pull away, needing to breathe. I take in huge gulps of air, and a tiny bit of logic finally wriggles into my mind. What the hell am I doing?

Ethan, I pant.

Ethan ignores me, lowering his head to press kisses against my neck, his stubble, which he hasn’t bothered to shave for some time, scratching against my skin. His tongue flicks out and licks my pulse, and my entire body shudders. I struggle to rein in my thoughts.

Ethan, stop, I try again.

But there’s no conviction in my voice. I don’t want Ethan to stop, not now. Part of me knows that we need to stop, because this could ruin everything for me. Ethan doesn’t love me, he doesn’t even want me. He’s just lonely and desperate and needing the physical comfort that I’m all too willing to give him.

I know all this. But the larger part of me, the part that longs and hopes and futilely dreams, doesn’t really care.

Except for the fact that Ethan’s friendship is the most important thing in the world to me.

Ethan! I manage, pushing him back. His stunned expression is almost funny. My chest is heaving and my hands are shaking. Crap, this is hard. We need to slow down and think about this for a second!

You kissed me, Ethan points out.

Yes, I know, I say, running a hand through my hair. My curls are already hopelessly tangled. I did.

Then I don’t see the problem, Ethan says.

There’s that look in his eyes, the stubborn, determined look that says he’ll get his own way. Ethan has always been willful and unwilling to give up until things go the way he wants them to. It’s nice to see that expression on his face again, though not so great that it’s directed at me right at this moment, when I’m already balancing on very thin ice. I swallow.

Things will look different in the morning, I insist.

I don’t care, Ethan says.

We both know that he will care. But Ethan isn’t thinking about that right now. His pupils are dilated, his shoulders are tense and I can already see interest rising in his pants. It gives me a thrill to know that I did this to him, and I hurriedly stamp down on the feeling.

Ethan... I try again.

I don’t care, Ethan interrupts again.

He swoops in, bracing his arms around me, and his mouth is on my neck again...and I’m lost. I’m not strong enough to push Ethan away a second time, not when he seems so determined to make every dream I’ve ever had about him come true.

So I simply give in and fall into his arms, pulling his t-shirt up over his toned chest. If I can’t stop this, I might as well just enjoy it while it lasts, after all. We can talk more about the consequences of it in the morning.

Chapter Two: Georgia

With no more inhibitions , I push Ethan back, this time so I can pull his shirt over his head, almost ripping the soft material in my eagerness. His chest is smooth and toned; as a construction worker, Ethan does a lot of heavy lifting every week, so it isn’t a surprise to see that he’s very fit. It makes me feel even hotter as I run my hands over his skin, feeling every dip and crevice, overwhelmed by the fact that I even can touch him.

How many times have I wondered what it would be like to feel his muscles moving under my hands, to press my fingers against his skin? He’s slick with sweat already, panting as he pulls me back toward him, his hands gripping my hips hard enough to bruise. He sucks at the skin and I know there will be a mark left there in the morning.

My hands slide down and press against the lump in his jeans. His cock is eager for me, straining hard against my palm, and I rub some friction against it.

Fuck, Ethan pants against me. His fingers are sliding under my shirt now and scraping against my stomach. That feels so good.

It’ll feel better without your clothes, I purr into his ear.

I slide his belt off and throw it somewhere, raising myself up on my knees and pushing him back. Ethan falls backward easily, looking up at me from the couch pillows, his eyes dark and hungry. His hands wind around my thighs.

You’re still wearing too many clothes too, he says.

We can change that, I promise.

I meet his eyes and, without looking away, I slide my hands under the hem of my shirt, gripping the soft material. Slowly, I work it up over my stomach, then over my breasts, revealing my white lace bra. Then I pull it up and over my head, dropping it to the ground before reaching behind myself to unclip my bra. Ethan’s eyes never leave mine, and he almost looks as though he’s stopped breathing as he watches me, his mouth slightly open.

I smile, pleased at the attention. If nothing else, at least I know I’m physically attractive to him.

When my bra slides down my shoulders and joins my shirt on the floor, Ethan sits up slightly and reaches toward my now-free breasts. I lean over him, giving him better access, and his hands cup the soft mounds, kneading the skin with his fingers until he finds the nipples and pinches them to hardness. I groan at the feeling, my back arching, and lean in further, wanting him to touch me even more.

So responsive, he murmurs. What if I touch you here?

His hands slide lower, running over my stomach until they reach the hem of my jeans, the tips of his fingers on one hand tucking briefly under the material to slide against the sensitive skin of my hips. His other hand drifts further downward, moving between my legs. He touches my vagina, wet in my panties, applying just enough pressure that I can feel it, but not enough to be satisfying. I groan deeply, my hands gripping his shoulders.

Fuck, Ethan, I pant. Don’t stop.

I pull at the button on his pants as his hand slides teasingly back and forth between my legs. The button pops open and he lifts his hips so I can pull his pants down. In his boxers, his cock stands tall, a wet patch from its leaking tip on the material, and I reach out to grip it firmly, making Ethan choke and falter in his movements. Then he pulls down the zipper on my jeans and tugs them down over my legs.

We kick the pants away and I lean in toward Ethan, pressing the length of my body against him. Our bare skin meets and I feel his clothed erection against my leg, bobbing desperately as Ethan’s hips hump up, seeking contact. I straddle Ethan’s legs, locking my knees around him, my unruly hair falling around us in a thick, curly curtain.

I pause then, panting. We’re both almost naked now, our sweaty skin pressing together. Ethan is looking up at me, eyes dark with lust, and his hands are on my hips, holding me in place. There’s a burning inferno weaving its way around the both of us, so thick and hot that I can barely breathe with it.

But I need to take a moment to just look at him, underneath me like this. Part of me is unconvinced that this isn’t just another dream, that I’m not going to wake up at any moment, bereft and alone. The rest of me is screaming that this isn’t going to work in the morning and that things are just going to be even worse for me when this is all over.

There’s no going back now, though. Unless Ethan abruptly comes to his senses and pushes me away, there’s no way I can stop. Everything about Ethan, the feel of his skin, the touch of his hands, the weight of his gaze on me, is absolutely addictive. I need more of it, to take what I can get from him until the end. Only then can I think about the consequences of my actions, and hope that I haven’t ruined everything for us both.

What are you thinking about? Ethan asks, his voice rough.

Nothing, I say.

His hands grip me tighter.

If you can still think at all, I’m fucking doing something wrong, he says in a low voice that sends shivers down my spine.

Then make me stop, I dare, pressing a soft kiss against his chest.

Abruptly, Ethan pushes me up, and then I’m sitting on his legs again, my skin feeling cold as I’m torn away from the heat of his. His fingers pull at my silken panties and I raise myself up as I realize what he wants, letting him slide the material over my smooth legs. I momentarily raise a leg so that they can drop to the floor and then I pull at his boxers, gripping the material and tugging them downward.

Now completely bare, I feel vulnerable and exposed. It isn’t the first time I’ve slept with a man, but knowing that it’s Ethan I’m with, who is looking at me with such an intense gaze, makes me feel like I’m in the spotlight.

What do you want? Ethan asks me.

I want you to fuck me, I reply with reckless abandon. "I want to feel every inch of you as you slide into me. I want to ride you hard and come