Breaker

by Davenport, Fiona

  “I forgot!” she squeaked suddenly.

  “Forgot?” I didn’t understand what she was talking about.

  She began to climb off the bed, then paused and glanced back at me. “Yes, by the way.”

  My brow furrowed. “Yes?”

  “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She stood and padded over to the dresser where I’d tossed her purse.

  “Don’t recall asking, baby,” I grunted, annoyed that I’d just put a ring on her finger, and instead of throwing her arms around me and letting me bury my cock in my fiancée, she’d put the whole length of the room between us. Especially when I was staring at her gorgeous body wearing nothing but my ring. “Now get your sexy ass back here.”

  “I have to tell you something,” she hedged as she slowly meandered back toward me, holding one of her hands behind her back.

  “I already know you love me,” I declared.

  “No, I mean, yes, I do. But I wasn’t talking about that. Okay, I have something to show you.”

  I fell back against the headboard with a huff and crossed my arms over my chest, not bothering to hide my hard, swollen cock that was standing straight up, begging for attention.

  “Fine. But as soon as you’re done, I want those pretty lips wrapped around your soon-to-be husband’s dick before he does his best to knock you up.”

  “Yeah, about that…” She crawled onto the bed, and when she was only a foot away, she shifted back to sit on her heels. Her hand finally came out from behind her, and she held it out, offering me a white stick. “We’ll be practicing for the next one instead.”

  My mouth dropped open as I realized what she placed in my palm. I turned it over to see a little window with two pink lines. “You’re pregnant?”

  Her hazel eyes glistened with tears, but she was wearing a giant smile when she nodded.

  I whooped and tossed the test away to grab my woman and take her down onto her back.

  “I love you, baby,” I whispered. “You’re perfect for me”—I grinned wickedly as I slid my hands up from her belly, where our little one was growing, to cup her tits—“and all mine.”

  “And you’re mine,” she sighed happily.

  “Damn fucking straight. Now, like you said, practice makes perfect…”

  Epilogue

  Ireland

  I was enjoying a brief, quiet moment in the dressing room before my wedding, so my head jerked up in surprise when I heard a feminine voice say, “You look gorgeous.”

  Meeting Wendy’s gaze in the mirror, I smiled. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

  She stroked her hand down the side of her purple dress. “Only because you didn’t turn into a bridezilla and force us all to wear horrendous gowns with yards of tulle, sequins, and lace.”

  Sebastian had only been willing to give me a month to pull together the wedding of my dreams, but that had been long enough for me to go way overboard. If my mother was still part of my life, she would have been happy with my choice to have four bridesmaids. But that was about the only decision that would’ve earned her stamp of approval. She and my dad would’ve hated everything else from my hair to my gown, including my groom.

  Instead of needing to worry about what my parents thought, I got to enjoy my big day surrounded by people who loved me for me. “The dress you picked out is perfect for you.”

  My only rule for my bridesmaids was that they chose dresses that were the same shade of purple and wore silver shoes. My friends all had wildly different taste, and I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable while I was marrying the love of my life. Wendy had gone with a form-fitting gown that showed a decent amount of cleavage and ended just above her knees, and the style did amazing things for her figure.

  “Thanks.” The grin she flashed at me was full of mischief. “My brother is going to hate it so much.”

  A mental image of Scout’s over-the-top reaction when he first saw his sister in that dress as she walked down the aisle popped into my head and made me giggle. “We should give the photographer a heads-up so we get a good picture of him during the procession.”

  She giggled and nodded. “I just might do that.”

  Michelle, Sally, and Sara strutted back into the room. Sally was carrying two bottles—one was champagne and the other was sparkling juice—and my other two friends were holding champagne glasses. Sally handed the juice to Wendy and asked, “Open this one for me? We have just enough time for a quick toast before we need to line up.”

  “Nope.” I shook my head, grabbed the bottle, and set it on the table. “The baby is only as big as a kidney bean, but even looking at a drink somehow makes me need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Well, damn,” Sally sighed as she put the champagne next to the juice. “I guess we’ll skip the toast since your groom would probably strangle me if the ceremony had to be delayed. Even for a pregnant bride potty break.”

  “It’s probably for the best anyway.” Wendy lifted her foot and rotated her ankle to show off the strappy shoes she was wearing. “I never should’ve let Sally talk me into going with four-inch heels. Add in some alcohol, and I’d probably trip on my way down the aisle.”

  “You only have yourself to blame.” Sally shrugged. “Anything less wouldn’t live up to the killer dress you picked.”

  Sara nodded. “Sorry, Wendy. I’ve gotta agree with my girl on this one.”

  “It’s too bad you couldn’t make it to the rehearsal last night. You could’ve broken them in,” Sally added, jerking her chin toward the shoes in question.

  Wendy’s shoulders drooped as she heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah, I’m really sorry about that. The bartender I was supposed to trade shifts with flaked out on me, so I was stuck going to McClaren’s to work instead.”

  I waved off her concern. “I already told you not to worry about it. Being a bridesmaid isn’t that hard. Just follow Sara’s lead, and you’ll be fine.”

  Michelle grabbed the bouquets off the couch and handed them out to each of us. “C’mon, we can gossip later. It’s time to line up now.”

  Things moved quickly from there, and it wasn’t long before we were filing into the marriage hall. As one of the groomsmen, Rider was standing near the altar and was so obviously staring at Wendy with a possessive gleam in his eyes that I couldn’t help but notice, even though my focus was on Sebastian. When she flashed him a big grin, Cat had to tug on Scout’s arm to keep him in his seat. I was super curious to know what was going on between them and wished that I’d been able to see them together last night. Asking her about their story was going to have to wait until after I said my I Dos.

  When my gaze returned to Sebastian, I got teary-eyed and weak in the knees over how gorgeous he looked in his tuxedo. I didn’t let that slow me down, though. Not when it seemed as though he was ready to march down the aisle and hurry me all the way up there. I already had his engagement ring on my finger, wore his property patch whenever he wanted, and was carrying his baby. But none of that dimmed Sebastian’s impatience to make me his wife. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  Epilogue

  Breaker

  “Molly convinced Dahlia to pierce your ears?” I growled at my twelve-year-old daughter, Joelle. I couldn't believe Mac had let Bridget talk him into allowing Dahlia to work at Silver Ink as a piercing specialist. But now that his older daughter had talked her sister into putting holes in my baby girl’s body. I was going to kill him.

  “Chill, Dad,” Joelle sighed—every bit the pre-teen girl, attitude included—and tucked her dark hair behind her ears that now twinkled with tiny studs. “It’s not like I got anything weird pierced like Molly or Dahlia. I don’t know how they—”

  I blanched and covered Joelle’s mouth before she said something I couldn't unhear. Mac’s girls were like my nieces and had been babysitting my kids since the youngest was in diapers.

  Although, it made me feel a little less homicidal toward my prez when I thought about him finding out wherever it was his baby girl had been pierced.
I’d have to encourage Joelle to spill the beans to Mac. I’d enjoy watching that show.

  And the truth was, Dahlia had chosen very tasteful, small earrings, and they looked beautiful on Joelle. So, I put a smile on my face and hugged my sweet girl, whispering, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.”

  When she pulled away, her cheeks were pink, her expression a little shy, but her hazel eyes—so much like her mother’s—sparkled with happiness. “Thanks, Daddy. I really like them.”

  I kissed her forehead and told her to go show her mother. I grinned when Ireland shrieked and yelled about how she was going to kill Molly and Dahlia. I knew she’d be on my side, so I relished the thought of bringing her in on my evil plan to have Joelle give Mac a heart attack.

  * * *

  Ireland handed me a bowl of popcorn and plopped down next to me on the couch in the main lounge of the clubhouse. Mac would be coming out of his office to head to the kitchen for dinner any minute.

  “What’s she going to say?” I asked in a low tone, so Joelle, who was on the couch across from us reading a book, wouldn’t overhear.

  Ireland snickered and replied at a similar volume. “I told her that I was sure Mac would want to admire her pretty new ears and to assure him—like she did with us—that it wasn’t anywhere crazy like Molly’s or Dahlia’s.”

  “Have I mentioned how perfect you are today?”

  Ireland winked at me and leaned in for a kiss. A gagging sound broke us apart, and I grinned across the room at my oldest child. “Something wrong, jelly bean?”

  “Do you have to do that alllllll the time?”

  “Yep,” I drawled before planting another kiss on my wife’s delicious lips.

  A couple of minutes later, Mac strolled out of his office, and Joelle jumped up excitedly, tossing her book on the sofa and running up to him. “Mac! Look what Dahlia did for me!”

  The prez immediately bent his legs to bring himself eye level with Joelle and smiled. “Let me see, jelly bean.”

  Joelle put her hands behind her ears and twisted her head from side to side.

  Mac looked appropriately impressed and said, “Wow! You’re gorgeous,” making my daughter beam with delight.

  He leaned around her to glance at Ireland and me apologetically. “She did this with your permission, right?”

  I shook my head. “Apparently, Molly talked her into it.”

  Mac sighed. “Those girls...I’m sorry.”

  Joelle’s expression turned serious all of a sudden, and she patted his shoulder while I shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth to keep from laughing. “Don’t worry, prez. Mommy and Daddy are cool with it. It’s just my ears. I’m not old enough to do it like Dahlia and Molly.” Her nose scrunched, and she whispered—the loud whisper of a child—“I don’t have enough boobs to have piercings on them. And I don’t think I want to.”

  Mac’s eyes widened, and his jaw went slack, his expression horrified, making me grin from ear to ear.

  “And I don’t know where Molly’s is because she said it’s a grown-up thing, and she’d tell me when I’m older. Weird, right?”

  All the blood had drained from Mac’s face, and he nodded but couldn’t seem to form words.

  Ireland giggled, and it drew his attention. When he saw our amusement, he looked relieved. “Not a funny joke, you two.”

  “Not a joke,” I told him with glee before popping more kernels in my mouth.

  He smashed his lips together, then seemed to remember Joelle was in front of him and softened his expression, forcing a smile. “You look gorgeous, jelly bean. Now, I have to go lock my girls away in a tower.” Mac’s eyes strayed to the popcorn we were eating, and they narrowed dangerously. “I’m sure your daddy will show it to you when you’re old enough to date.”

  Ireland laughed, but the thought of my baby girl dating had blood pounding in my ears and my head ready to explode. “Relax, Sebastian,” Ireland murmured, amusement coloring her tone. “That’s a long way off.”

  It didn’t make me feel much better.

  But it helped when Mac patted Joelle on the head and stood, then shouted, “Bridget Mackenzie! Get your sexy ass in my office right now!”

  His old lady came hurrying out of the kitchen with a sour expression on her face and planted her hands on her hips. “No need to bellow, Jared!”

  He pointed toward his office. “Now. We need to talk about your girls.”

  Bridget rolled her eyes and stalked down the hallway. Before he followed her, he shot a smug grin at me and drawled, “It’s not as long off as you think, Breaker.” He smiled after delivering the dig and hurried after his wife.

  “Fucking hell,” I groaned.

  “Yeah, fucking hell,” Joelle sighed. “I’m never going to date. Boys are gross.”

  Ireland gasped, “We don’t say words like that, Joelle.”

  I just grinned and beckoned my daughter over. She skipped in my direction and let me pull her into my lap. “That’s my girl,” I praised. “Never forget that boys are gross.”

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  About the Author

  The writing duo of Elle Christensen and Rochelle Paige team up under the Fiona Davenport pen name to bring you sexy, insta-love stories filled with alpha males. If you want a quick & dirty read with a guaranteed happily ever after, then give Fiona Davenport a try!

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