by CC Monroe
“Where is this one from?” My fingertips graze it.
“A knife fight.”
A worried look takes over my face, and I look up at him. “Brew...”
“It’s okay, baby, I’m right here. I’m okay.” Dropping to my knees, I kiss the scar on my way down, moving lower to his Adonis V, kissing a path from each deep line to the other. I want him in my mouth, pleasing him something I must do this second. As I look up with hooded eyes, he looks down on me. A powerful alpha looking at his woman at his feet, and I’m not ashamed to be his, to be owned by him.
“Just how many times will I have to face the risk of losing you?” I ask him, and he knows what I mean. Brew’s Crew doesn’t deal with drugs or guns, but he has admitted to defending plenty of people, and it has led to fights involving weapons.
I get emotional fast, tears welling in my eyes. I take him in my mouth then, needing his taste in me, marking me.
“Fuck, baby. You…” He takes hold of my head to steady himself and have some sort of control over my quick action that caught him off guard. “You will never have to worry about losing me. Come up here.” I can’t help the prolific emotions coming from me. Maybe it’s the hormones, or maybe it’s just the deepest love I’ve ever felt consuming me. Maybe it's all of that and more. But I slowly move my lips up and down his shaft. His moaning off my name, egging me on. I drop him from my mouth and lick the tip, moving down the underside where he is most sensitive, and mark myself with him. I want everything, every damn thing he has to give me.
“Why are you crying? Baby, shit.” He tries to pull me up, but I refuse, kissing his cock again, taking it in fast, the tip hitting the back of my throat, nearly causing me to gag. He moans, “Please, baby, you’re killing me. I need to be inside you.”
“No, come in my mouth,” I say, wrapping my hand around the root of his cock, pumping him, and licking at the tip.
“Is that what you need, baby? Is this what my woman needs?”
I nod, my swollen lips taking him back in and working him harder, unable to go much longer without having his release in my mouth.
“Just like that, beautiful. Fuck, you are so damn sexy. Fuck!” he moans, grasping the back of my head and coming, shoving his cock to the back of my throat, not letting air get out as he empties himself into me. His salty, unique taste now invades my senses, and I feel it’s not enough. I need him more than I need oxygen in this moment. Tears roll down my cheeks, both from the lack of breathing and the pain of actual love. How can love be so strong it truly feels like torture? As if you are suffocating at the thought of being without them? Can love consume you to the point where you could die?
Picking me up off my knees, he lays us down on the bed, him underneath me. “Sit up and let me worship the sight and feel of you.”
Sitting up, I slowly and sensually move my hair to cascade down one side of my neck and over my left breast. This is purposefully. I want to feel like a siren, powerful by showing him my sexuality and what I can do to him.
“Damn. Look at these hips.” He moves his hands over the curves with force, pinching the skin and leaving little love marks behind, I’m sure. Ownership. He’s marking me like I wanted him to. Did he know? Could he feel that need in me, banging to come out like a kick drum?
“This waist, look how brutal my hands look against your innocent, soft porcelain skin.” He grasps my hips and slides me up to his stomach, my slick center aching and throbbing against his abs. “Your breasts. They fit in my hands. How does this feel?” He massages the tender mounds.
Moaning, I respond, sliding my core against his stomach with zero shame. “So good. God, you are so good at this.”
“Only for you. And this is only mine, right?” Reaching under me, he slides his hand between his stomach and my core, slipping two fingers in me. I push up on my knees, and his hand on my hip stops me, and he pushes me back down.
“Don’t you dare move; it will feel better.” Watching the tendons in his wrist protrude as he moves his two fingers back and forth inside me and his thumb against my clit, I let out a small, high-pitched gasp as we both watch him get me off.
“So perfect. You ready to come on my fingers?”
“Uh huh.” I bring the back of my hand to my lips and ride it out, moving in sync with him. The sensation is so strong I come and scream out his name. “Brew!” My hand leaves my lips, and I grasp onto my hair and ride out my orgasm, spasming against his abs and hand. When I calm down, he removes my fingers and moves us so I’m back on his lap, his cock erect again. Kissing passionately, breathing heavy, panting out moans, our names sound like praise from each other’s mouth.
Bringing his fingers that were just in me to my lips, he places them inside my mouth, and I taste me on him, our combination an aphrodisiac. Before his fingers even leave my mouth, he licks them too, then takes my mouth, sharing my taste. The erotism is beyond lovemaking, its animalistic connection and instinct.
Taking control, I use what little strength I have left in my quivering thighs to lift myself and slide him inside me. We release a sigh of relief. Pressing our foreheads to one another, we stare into each other’s eyes, never once breaking contact. We move in sync, taking and giving in unison.
When the orgasm hits, it’s at the same time, and our shadows dance on the wall, our moans echoing a song in the quiet of the night. I am his, and he is mine. Forever.
His.
His.
His.
“Suddenly, I feel sick,” I tell him, my legs in stirrups as we wait on the doctor to give me my first ultrasound.
Brew and I took test after test, and they were all positive. When it was just us, we were elated, but for some reason, sitting in this freezing-ass room with my legs extended in the air with my lady bits exposed, I’m nervous.
This is all real. Completely real.
“I won’t say I know, since I’m not in your position.”
“Exactly, like Rachel says, ‘No uterus, no opinion,’” I quote Friends, and Brew laughs. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve made him start watching my favorite show, Friends, with me, and he does it—with a bit of a moan and groaning, but he does it.
“How about you tell me what you’re nervous about?” Brew tries a different approach, a distraction tactic he knows how to do so well.
“I don’t know, it’s just that we are going to see our baby for the first time, and I just want him or her to be healthy.”
“That’s the mother in you. But I promise you and the baby are healthy, and I won’t let anything happen to you or our child.” When I roll my eyes, he chuckles. “What?”
“You can protect us from outside forces, but you can’t make my body do what you want it to,” I tell him matter-of-factly.
“Don’t sass me, woman, or I’ll smack—”
“Knock, knock! Ms. Marie? You ready?” the doctor interrupts us, and I can’t handle the hilariousness of the scene I watch unfold. The doctor is male and not much older than Brew. And Brew takes notice of that, his face drawing tight, his jaw clenching.
“Yes, that’s me,” I welcome him with a smile. He holds out his hand to me, and I take it, a growl leaving Brew. I instantly give him a death glare. “Do not start that crap, Brew Axton, or I will make you wait in the hall,” I bite out under my breath. I know the doctor hears us, but he kindly pretends not to.
“You must be Brew, the lucky father. I’m Dr. Chambers.”
“Hi.” His voice is sharp, and he sounds like a complete ass.
“Nice to meet you, Dr. Chambers. You can call me JJ.”
“Ms. Marie is fine,” Brew interjects. My mouth gapes, and I look to the doctor and see he is holding back a laugh. He must not be too worried about my insanely jealous alpha-hole. He isn’t, but I sure as hell am.
I lock away all the things I plan to say and save them for the car ride home.
“All right, let’s go ahead and get the ultrasound started. The nurse explained that due to the tilting of your uterus, we will
have to do a vaginal ultrasound, correct?”
I nod.
“Yes, she did.” Brew stands, his tall frame taking over the room as he puffs out his chest.
“Brew, why don’t you just pee on me at this point?” I scold, completely appalled that he is acting like a baboon.
“Brew, JJ, I can get a female doctor if that would make you more comfortable,” Dr. Chambers offers.
“Yes.”
“No.”
We say this at the same time. Brew’s “yes” only fueling me on.
“Brew!”
“If this helps, I will let you both know I’m a happily married man…. to another man.” Instantly, my face goes red, embarrassed that our poor doctor felt he needed to say this because Brew couldn’t calm down. Brew shows his embarrassment as well, and I don’t even look at him as he takes a seat and shuts his mouth.
“All right, now, are we ready?” the doctor asks.
“Yes, I’m so sorry, Dr. Chambers. Really, and I would love to keep you as my doctor if we didn’t run you off.”
“You both are totally fine. No worries. Now, this may be just a bit uncomfortable, okay?”
“Okay.” Putting my head back, I take a deep breath and let him insert the tool, which causes no pain.
“All right, perfect, we are in. Let’s see if we can find this little one.”
Releasing each breath slowly, I wait for the sound of the baby’s heartbeat. Though I want to strangle Brew, I take his hand for strength and comfort. He squeezes it, and we share a longing look, not staring at the monitor but instead at one another. Until we hear the sound. A thumping sound of a fast and steady heartbeat.
“And there we are. You guys, there’s your baby.” He points to the black circle then the small white center. “That’s your little boy or girl. Judging by the size, measurements, and your last missed period, I would say you are about nine or ten weeks.”
“Wow. Look at that little one,” Brew whispers, and when I look at him, there is a soft expression taking over his face.
“Yeah, we made a whole person.” I bite me lip.
Leaning over, he kisses me, sweet ones all over my face. “I love you,” he tells me.
“And I love you.”
“I can’t believe this is all real.” Brew looks back to the screen, admiring it as if our baby is here in our arms.
“It sure is, and we are looking at a healthy baby, strong heartbeat, good measurements. And how about Mama? How are you feeling?” Taking out the wand, he pulls the sheet down over me and lets me know I can put my legs down.
Sitting upright, I tell him about the morning sickness, the fatigue, and the breast tenderness. Insuring me this is all normal and sending me on my way with a prescription for anti-nausea pills, he schedules our next appointment, and we leave.
Once in the car, the stunt Brew pulled comes back to me, and I swear I want to punch his arm until it’s numb.
“You cannot act like that anytime a man comes near me, Brew! Are kidding me? That poor man had to out himself just to settle you down. I could literally kill you right now.” I cross my arms and breathe heavily out my nose.
“Sorry that I don’t want another man looking at my woman’s body. My body.”
Rolling my eyes, I scoff. “Brew, he sees thousands of vaginas. Mine’s nothing special.”
“The fuck it ain’t. I sure as shit can’t get enough of that sweet spot, so don’t tell me otherwise.”
“Ugh, you are such a caveman. You sound just like Evan.”
“Then June found herself a winner, didn’t she?”
My mood swings are not to be tested, which I’ve been having a crap-ton lately, and here is Brew—push, push, pushing away.
“June was right; we are mental for falling in love with two cavemen.”
“And it’s too late to back out, baby, so you better get used to it.” So arrogant. He really doesn’t see how wrong that was.
I debate arguing about it, but honestly, I’m tired, overwhelmed, and we just saw our baby. Shelving this argument is the right thing to do right now.
We are silent most the way home, and I finally speak. “I don’t want to fight. Not after we just saw our baby for the first time.” Tucking a fallen hair from my face, I reach over, and he lets one hand drop from the wheel, taking mine and bringing it to his lips. The past three weeks haven’t been the best for us. Between June’s house almost being broken into—which is a whole story I don’t want swirling around in my mind at the moment—and Brew being extra alert because of it, we haven’t spent much time enjoying our current life without caution.
“Me neither. I want to celebrate, enjoy it. You think we should tell anyone? My parents? What about yours? You haven’t spoken to them since you’ve been here, baby. I’m worried about that.” There really isn’t much to worry about. I plan to tell my parents everything, but we aren’t like Brew and his family; we don’t talk all the time or share our days together. We are the typical New York family—busy, busy, busy. That doesn’t make us any less close. We have gone longer periods without so much as a few texts shared, so it’s not unusual for us to go this long without talking via phone.
“I plan to tell them, maybe at the twelve-week mark. At that point, it would’ve been time for me to go home. And since that isn’t happening, I might want to fly out and tell them everything, ya know? Spend some time with them?”
“We can talk to Dr. Chambers and see if flying is an option at that time, and we will go together.”
“Okay.” My response is short.
“Hey, what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?” he asks, kissing my knuckles.
“Nothing, just enjoying the high.”
“Yeah, it’s been a pretty hard few weeks, but I have some good news. We are gonna go riding with Evan, JJ, Chrys, and Dom tonight.” Instantly, my mood goes from joyful to ecstatic. We haven’t had a chance to hang out as a group yet, and Chrystal barely met June in passing. I need this night out.
“Brew! Really? Oh my God, I’m so excited!” Not to mention, I haven’t had the chance to ride too much on the back of his bike due to our work schedules and the weather.
“I figured you would be. You can get all dressed up, and we will go have a carefree night out.”
“Okay, you are forgiven for today. Thank you, Brew. Seriously, thank you!” Clapping my hands, I grab my phone and send a text to June and Chrystal.
Me: Girls’ night! YAS! What are you guys gonna wear?
Chrystal: Dom says I have to keep it somewhat modest. Caveman.
June: Same, but I’m not going to listen. Let’s break the rules a little, really piss the men off.
Me: Now you’re talking. Besides, they are much more fun when broody and growly
June: Haha, truth.
Chrystal: I’m so excited! I’ll see y’all tonight.
Me: Where did your New York accent go, Chrys? Am I gonna end up saying y’all all the time?
Chrystal: Told you. There is something in the water.
June: She ain’t wrong. All right, I’m headed off to go get ready. See you soon!
“You talking to the girls?” Brew asks, pulling into our driveway.
“Yes, they’re excited. Where are you guys taking us?”
“Nope, you’ll have to see.”
Questioning him with my eyes tight slits, I tease, “That’s what serial killers would say. I’m gonna skip tonight. Sound good?”
He laughs at me. “Move it. You have an hour.” He climbs out, rounds the truck, and helps me out, and then off I go, ready for a night of laughs, friends, and good times.
Chapter Fifteen
Brew
My jaw hits the floor when I see JJ. Wearing skintight, dark jeans that are distressed and a tight white strapless top, her skin looks delicious. But the heels, black and strappy, making her legs looks miles long, have me salivating. Her black hair is curled and cascading all around her, the dark shadow and red lips looking like something from a wet dream.<
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“I woke up buried in you, saw our child today, and now you let me see you in this outfit. The hell are you pulling here, woman?” Putting on some silver hoop earrings and grabbing a leather jacket, she smiles.
“Trying to fit the part of a hot-ass biker’s old lady,”
“This biker is about to cuff you to that bed and not let you out of this house looking so fucking good. Damn, baby.”
That statement gains me an eye roll. “I don’t get to dress like this often, so I like to really live it up when I do.” She shrugs.
“Yeah, I don’t think I could handle you dressing this way every day. You would kill me. You thought I was a caveman at Dr. Chambers’s office. Try me in public when the first man looks at you even just a little sideways.”
Stepping up to me, a sultry smile splayed on her face, she wraps her arms around my midsection.
“That kind of caveman is one I like. Not the kind that wants to kill the man who plans to deliver our baby. Jealous Brew gets me hot anyway.”
“Woman,” I warn, knowing damn well what she’s trying to do, and it’s working.
“What? Can’t I seduce my man?”
“Yes, all day, every day. But not five minutes before we are about to meet our friends. We don’t have time in five minutes to do all the things I want to do to you in those heels.” Her knees buckle a bit, and I keep a hold of her. “Hormones got you there, baby?”
“Nope, you did, Brew Axton.” And just like that, she spins on her heel, getting the last word and leaving me on her hook. Looking over my shoulder, I make sure she is gone before stepping up to my dresser. Digging under my socks, I pull out the small Tiffany-blue box that holds a custom-made ring. My woman may be thinking tonight is all fun and games, but for me, it’s about to change everything.