“Condom,” he murmured.“Pill,” I murmured back, pulling him toward me.I unbuttoned his jeans, shoving them down his thighs with my toes, and he lied on top of me. His body was hard and hot, heat spreading across my skin where his chest connected with mine. My hands trailed across his back, feeling his muscles flexing beneath my fingertips when he chucked his boxers to the side.He picked my legs up and pushed them open, the end of his cock resting against my opening. He pushed into me, and it hurt, it stung, but that was good and it was bad. I held him tighter, fighting the clenching of my muscles as he thrusted.Fast and furious, driven by our anger and frustration. From our kiss to our touch to his movements inside me, it was unrelenting. It was painful and soothing, chilling and thrilling. It’ was a dream and memory mixed into the past catching up with the present.It hit me like an explosion, and I cried into his mouth as the pleasure pulsated through my body. He tugged my hair,

“How do we do it? Go from yellin’ at each other to being kinda normal like this?”I shrugged. “Because something like this is about Milka, but when we’re alone and it’s just us, it’s about us. When it’s about Milka we work on instinct, but when it’s about us we work on emotion.”“Good . . . Because we’re gonna need to work a lot on instinct,” she said softly. “Come and stay with us until we work out how to handle this.”I stopped. “Stay with you?”She nodded, looking at me from under her eyelashes. “Guest room is empty. You can stay there and spend time with Milka, and it’ll be safe. They have no idea who I am, right?”“There were no pictures with the article, so I guess not.”“Then my house is safe. It only has to be for a few days. I won’t even have to be there all the time.”“Are you sure?”“You got any better ideas?”“Uh, no.”“Then yes, I’m sure.” She lowered my hands from her face and stepped back. “Go and pack some stuff and, uh, maybe put on a shirt, then when Milka wakes up w

Ugh, baby mama. I hated that term.I sighed and picked up Milka’s dolly. I smoothed her hair down and gazed out of the window. What would I do if they turned up here? How would I be able to protect Milka then?I was not naive. Sooner or later one of the gossips would figure out that Chloe Hudson’s secret baby was Conor Jame’s. Even if they didn’t know for sure, which they wouldn’t, they’ll guess. A lucky guess was all it’d take.Then every aspect of Milka’s life would be shredded and examined, ready to be exposed to every person in America. She’ll grow up in the public eye, constantly scrutinized for how she looks and acts. She’ll always be his daughter, never just Milka.I threw the doll in the toy box and dropped back onto the sofa. I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this for her. I never wanted us to hide once the truth was out.I never thought it would be such a big deal. I never thought it would matter to anyone beyond the Conor family. I never thought we’d be sitting the

“He’ll probably ask me how long it took you to get inside my pants.” I sighed. “Then he’ll go all jealous and proceed to pin me up against a wall somewhere and kiss the shit out of me.”“You don’t sound so averse to the wall-pinning.”“Mmph,” I grunted as he pulled into my drive and I stared at the front door. “Know what I hate? I hate that we still feel the same as we did when I left Santa Monica. That fucking nothing has changed. I wish he could hate me without loving me at the same time, because then maybe I wouldn’t love him as much back.”“Still happy?” Bray turned in his seat and raised his eyebrows at me.I backhand slapped his chest. “I was. Once. Now all that gives me even a modicum of happiness is Milka. I love her, so much, Bray, but I wish I didn’t love her daddy. I wish with everything I have that I didn’t want him the way I do.”“You need to go to bed, Chloe,” he cut in.“Why? I’m only saying my thoughts out loud.”“I know. But I’m not the person you should be saying the

Going downstairs, I got Milka out of her high chair and brought her into the front room with me. She jumped off the sofa almost immediately and toddled over to her toy box. I let her go and turned on the TV.It was right there:IS THE LEAD SINGER OF DIRTY J. A DADDY?Yes. Yes, he fucking is, and it’s none of your damn business, you nosy bitch.Somehow I didn’t think Mark would be impressed if I sent that in to their “What Do You Think?” email address. The screen flicked to their reporter, and the backdrop was my house. I turned the volume up to listen.“ . . . since his coming out yesterday to carry some groceries in, there have been no sightings of Conor or, indeed, any of Dirty J.”Carrying groceries in was making news now? Don’t they have anything better to be doing?“And what’s the general consensus outside the house this morning, Hanna? Is there any truth to the reports?”“Unfortunately we don’t know. Dirty J’s representatives aren’t returning calls or emails, so one would assume