WhitneySo far I've been pretty lucky. Other than a few times, morning sickness hasn't been a blip on my radar. Today that changed in a major way. I take a look at myself in the mirror and squeeze my cheeks, hoping to put some color into them. I still have the nasty taste in my mouth since I have no toothpaste or mouthwash. I hope it doesn't cause me to get sick again. I have to figure this out, I have to pull myself together and make this work."Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Addison, asks as I come out of the ladies room for the third time in the last hour. I hope that no one has noticed and that no one thinks I was on a bender the night before. That's the last thing that I need right now.I shake my head. Being able to do my job, being able to support myself is the only thing that's kept me going for years. It was the one thing that pulled me through my divorce. It forced me to get up every morning, put my feet on the floor, and face the day. It didn't matter how cra

RenegadeAll night I've slept maybe three hours. I haven't wanted to miss anything, because Whitney letting me in her bed to do this isn't going to be a regular occurrence. With everything I have in me, I know that to be a fact. Last night, she'd been weak. She'd needed someone to take care of her, and she'd been strong enough to let me do it.I have no doubt as soon as she wakes up and realizes I'm still in her bed, she's gonna kick me out. Am I okay with that? Not really, but I'm not in any position to make demands. I want the two of us to have an amicable relationship. She holds all the power to let me see my child too, so I want to be the type of guy she can get along with and be proud to have in her corner.Her ex-husband wasn't like that, from everything I can gather. I want to be different, be a much better man than he ever thought he could be.There's one thing I can't deny though. How right it feels to have her in my arms. Sometime in the middle of the night, she snugg

WhitneyI've been anxious since I heard his truck pull in the driveway. It's not overly loud, but loud enough. I'm pretty sure he doesn't have one of those annoying mufflers like Trevor put on his. Like all of the things they share in life, they both have a love for big trucks. Both blacked out with chrome, but Ryan's is lifted a little higher to accommodate his height. Trevor makes jokes about how Ryan has little man syndrome, but I know better. A flash of heat runs through my body as I think about his size. God, I miss the feeling he gave me as he thrust into me that night, the welcome weight of him laying on top of me, the way our eyes locked when he made me come. Damn, it's hot in here now.Fanning my hand in front of my face, I try to cool my wayward thoughts. This past week has been awful. If I didn't know better, I'd think I'm a teenage boy. After looking it up on the internet though, I know I'm good. This is completely normal, no matter how unnatural it feels.Putting my

RenegadeI've been good. Since this started I've let her call the shots, let her decide what part I get to play, what she'll allow me to do. I've never been the type of person to just sit back and let others direct me in my personal life. Doing what I do for a job, I have to be able to take, execute, and adjust my orders. I don't like it so much when I'm cut off at the knees in my personal life. It hits me like a freight train, the need to show this woman what I want from her.Her finger nails are cutting into my flesh she's holding me so tightly. The weight of her body is leaning into me, and I'm taking it. I want to show her how much I support her, how invaluable I am when she needs someone to lean on. I'm not the kind of guy to run when things get tough. Never in my life have I backed away from a fight, whether it be between me and my dad, me and gunfire in the middle of the night, or me and a perp. Ryan Kepler hangs around and gets the job done, no matter how difficult it is.

Renegade"Fuck I feel like I'm about to serve a warrant," I tell Whitney as I listen to the caller giving us our letters and numbers. "My heart is going to beat out of my chest, I'm so close to a damn bingo."She laughs at my side. "It's addicting, isn't it?""Like fucking heroin," I agree as I hear the next spot we can mark. Damnit, it's not the one I need."This is seriously what got me into it," she admits. "I won once and then I wanted to win again and again. So I just kept coming back. At one point, I could play like ten cards at once.""No way," I take my eyes off my own cards for a split second. "How?""Obsession?" she shrugs. "You just learn to do it, and then you don't want to stop. I'm not saying this is the best thing for someone with an addictive personality, but it's fun for a while."The caller calls out B-32 and holy shit. "Bingo! Bingo!" I yell to be heard above the loud room. Holding my hand up."Yes!" Whitney squeals next to me. "You did it!"We wait