Hawk Valley Mountain Men Box Set

by Mazzy King

  I barely hear her, since I’m taken by the sight of her luscious curves. She’s wearing only panties and a bra. And in a second, she’s going to wear nothing at all.

  “Come here, Mrs. Hillsong,” I breathe, pulling her away from the dresser where she’s hunting for stockings.

  Stephanie laughs again, lightly smacking my chest. “Asher. We don’t have time.”

  “You’d be surprised how fast I can be,” I murmur into her neck, reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. I toss it away and waste no time pulling one of her nipples into my mouth.

  Sadie takes her cue and darts out of the room.

  “Asher,” she says again, but it sounds much less chiding this time.

  I smile into her skin. “This is what you get for flaunting your sexy body in front of me like this.”

  She reaches down and takes hold of my cock, hard and prominent, then shoves away my towel. “I guess so.”

  I push her down on our bed and tug her panties off, then spread her delicious thighs. “Someone went to the bikini waxer, I see.”

  She bites her lip, propping herself up on her elbows. “Do you approve?”

  Her pussy is all bare except for a perfectly shaped strip of trimmed hair at the top. And, I note, licking my lips, her lips are puffy with excitement. I can smell her desire.

  “Oh, yeah,” I say, lowering my mouth to her. “This definitely passes visual inspection. But now it’s time for the taste test.”

  I slide my tongue up her slit, revealing her pink against the creamy olive of her skin. She moans softly, then claps a hand over her mouth. AJ has ears like a lynx, and though he’s too young to know what’s going on, I’d rather not potentially scar him at such a young age.

  “Juicy,” I tell her, then slowly suck her clit. Her body leaps. Has she been excited for me all day, like I have been for her?

  She reaches down and grabs a fistful of my hair—a surefire sign she’s about to explode. She holds my head in place while I eat her with noisy sucks and licks, and she covers her face with a pillow when her body shudders and a burst of her juice fills my mouth.

  I rise swiftly, stand beside the bed, and haul her toward me until her round ass hangs over the edge. I push her knees apart and slide into her with one slow, deep push.

  I practically bite a hole in my lip trying to hold back my moan of pleasure. She’s so snug and hot and wet.

  We lock eyes, neither of us making a sound and both of us struggling with the effort to remain quiet as I fuck her just the way she loves, starting slow and deep and progressing to fast and hard. She grips me like a fist, and I know she’s close, which is a blessing, because I was ready to explode the moment I slid inside her.

  “Asher,” she whispers, reaching for me.

  I lean down and our lips meet. She’s more liberal with her moans now, because I’m swallowing all of them. My hips go into autopilot, straining to give my body what it needs.

  “Come, baby,” I beg her, fucking harder, faster. “I need you to come for me.”

  She reaches down to grab my ass, tilting her head back into the pillows. “Just like that, baby… Yes!”

  Her pussy clenches and pulses around me. I come like a thunderclap, burying myself deep inside her as I coat her with my seed.

  “Fuck,” I breathe, dropping my forehead onto the pillow. “I swear we just made another baby.”

  She’s quiet for a beat. “Would you like that? If we made another one?”

  I lift my head. It’s been on my mind for a couple months now, but Stephanie has seemed so content to focus solely on AJ, I wasn’t sure how to bring it up.

  I nod. “I would like that. I’d love it.”

  A beautiful smile splits Stephanie’s face. Then she teasingly swipes her fingers over her brow, miming wiping sweat. “Whew. Then it’s a good thing I’m already pregnant.”

  I freeze.

  She nods, reaching up to cup my face gently. “I found out earlier today. I suspected for about a week…but I took a test today. I took three, actually. We’re going to have another baby, Asher.”

  I kiss her with fierce passion.

  She’s laughing when I finally back off for air. “It’ll make parties like tonight a little challenging, but… Merry Christmas, honey.”

  “You keep giving me gifts,” I tell her, smoothing her hair away from her forehead. I reluctantly pull out of her snug, wet warmth. “First you. Then AJ. Now this. I can never thank you enough. I can never put into words how grateful for you I am.” I reach inside my bedside drawer for the little gift I planned to put in her stocking, but now feels like the best time. I hand her a small, black velvet box.

  With a surprised smile, she pops the lid. “Oh, Asher. It’s stunning.”

  Inside is a delicate platinum chain with an equally delicate diamond eternity symbol. I pull it out as Stephanie sits up and holds her mane of dark hair up so I can fix it around her neck.

  “I hope giving you forever will be enough, City Girl,” I say.

  She kisses me. “It’s all I ever wanted, Mountain Man.”

  We dress hurriedly, and just in time as the doorbell rings. Stephanie hurries off to answer it and I get AJ up. As Stephanie predicted, he is furious at being woken up from his comfy nap. But even with his cries and yells, he looks adorable in his holiday outfit.

  I carry him to the kitchen, soothing and rocking him, and get a bottle warmed up for him.

  Ava’s setting equipment up in the living room in front of the fireplace, and Stephanie is arranging furniture.

  “Hey, Asher,” she calls cheerily. “Aw. AJ looks adorable!”

  “He better,” Stephanie jokes. “It took forever to tie that little bowtie.”

  “Effort well sp—” Ava cuts off, digging a hand into the pocket of her jeans. She pulls out her cell phone and studies the screen. Her mouth falls open.

  “Everything okay?” Stephanie asks, concerned, as I walk closer.

  “Check your phones,” she tells us.

  2 | Clay & Savannah

  Clay

  The sound of Savannah strumming Christmas carols on her guitar drifts into the bathroom, where I’m shaving a tiny bit, making sure my close-cropped beard looks cultivated instead of unwieldy, like it wants to.

  Then the sound of soft awoos makes me set down the clippers and walk out to the living room, where Bramble sits on his haunches in front of her. She’s grinning at him, and every so often he throws his head back and lets loose a gentle howl.

  “You trying to make Bram your next big thing?” I joke, leaning against the sofa and wishing I had my camera.

  Bramble catches sight of me and trots to the back door, as if embarrassed he’s been caught singing. Savannah slides the door open and lets him out onto the covered back patio. He loves to sit in his heated doghouse and just watch nature.

  “He’s been singing with me for a while,” she says with a chuckle. “It’s the sweetest thing. I guess he likes Christmas carols.”

  “He just loves the sound of your voice, Songbird,” I tell her, pulling her close. “Like I do.”

  She leans into our kiss, hugging my waist. The past year and a half have been beautiful and one hell of a journey. We were married this past spring and decided we wanted to start our family right away, but we’ve had some complications, and getting pregnant doesn’t seem to be in the cards for us. Savannah doesn’t talk about it much, but I know how much it hurts her.

  “What’re you going to sing tonight at the Jerichos?”

  “Oh, the usual holiday favorites,” she responds. “Anything to get the mood going.”

  I grin. I can’t help it. “My mood is going right now.”

  Savannah tips her head, eyes narrowing, but she smiles. “Your mood’s always going.”

  “I can’t help it,” I whine, tugging her closer to me by her hips. I’m already hard as a rock. “You do it to me. Now let me do it to you.”

  She laughs, throwing her head back. I take the opening and lunge, planting my
lips all over her throat and lingering at her pulse, her special spot.

  “You’ve been very needy lately,” Savannah purrs as I trail kisses all over her neck. “I’m hardly recovered from yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that.”

  It’s true. I have been somewhat beastly for the past couple of months. I don’t know if it’s the holiday season or something in the air or being a horny newlywed, but I can’t keep my hands off my wife.

  “It’s not my fault,” I wheedle, guiding her to the sofa. “If you weren’t so sexy, I’d be a good boy.”

  “Luckily for you,” she says in a husky voice, “I like it when you’re a bad boy.”

  Our kisses become deep and wet. We don’t have to be at Stone’s house for a few hours—we have time for some hot sex and a good nap afterward.

  We both yank our clothes off, panting with need. I grab Savannah’s hips and maneuver her on top of me.

  “Sit on my face,” I command her, my eyes glued to the sweet flesh between her thighs already plump with excitement.

  She obeys me, bracing herself with one hand on the back of the couch, the other on the arm above my head, and lowers her pussy to my open mouth, which I greet tongue-first. She loves when I tongue-fuck her, and I gaze up as her head falls back and she releases a loud moan. For the next several minutes I taste her thoroughly, letting her ride my mouth until she comes in a shuddering burst, splashing my face with her nectar.

  “Now ride me,” I whisper, pushing her hips back. Her wet pussy trails juice down my chest and stomach until her heat envelopes my steel-hard, weeping cock.

  Savannah bites her lip, eyes on mine, as she eases down onto me. My toes curl as I bury myself in her. I grab her hips, showing her how I want her, and she takes me for one hell of a ride.

  When she’s close to coming, she leans over me, hips writhing frantically back and forth. Her tits dangle in my face and I suck and tease her nipples as she comes again, squeezing tight.

  “Clay!” she screams.

  “Oh, fuck, baby,” I groan through gritted teeth, pushing her hips down and my hips up as hard as possible. My cock pulses as my cum shoots out, filling her, and I wonder if this time we could get truly lucky. We might have stopped actively trying a few months ago, but that doesn’t mean I stopped hoping.

  She lays against me as we both come down slowly. I trace lazy circles on her back, waiting for my heart to return to its normal rhythm and basking in my cocoon of pleasure.

  “Let’s just stay here all night,” I murmur. “We have plenty of frozen pizza and beer.”

  “We have to go to the party,” Savannah says into my neck.

  “Screw that party.”

  She pokes me. “That’s not very Christmasy of you.”

  At that moment, we hear claws scratching glass and a pitiful whine. Bramble’s ready to come back in.

  “I need to clean up and get dressed,” Savannah announces, pushing off me, “and so do you, eventually.”

  “I don’t wanna,” I say with a pout.

  “Tough shit, Lowell,” she tosses over her shoulder as she walks naked toward the master bedroom.

  I had a snarky reply, but the sight of her bare ass jiggling makes all rational thought fly out of my head. My exhausted cock actually twitches and I consider ambushing her again.

  “She’d kill me,” I mumble, hiking up my underwear and jeans and going to the door to let Bramble in. He was invited to the party too, so I need to dress both myself and him in our holiday finery. For me, that’ll be nice jeans and a red sweater. For Bram, it’s a smart red-and-green plaid bowtie, which I think he really loves wearing.

  I hold out my hand and he drops an enormous paw into it. “Looking stylish, bro.”

  He woofs at me, as if giving me a compliment in return.

  “Hey, wife,” I holler, scratching Bramble’s ears, “come look at your son.”

  “Um…” she calls back, then her voice trails off.

  I lift my brows at Bramble and he gives me another woof. Then he turns and hauls ass into the bedroom.

  I follow him, finding Savannah wearing a fluffy robe. She’s curled over something in the sink.

  “What’s up, baby?” I ask.

  She meets my eyes in the mirror, and I start. Her crystal-blue eyes are shimmering with tears.

  My gaze drops to the sink, where a plastic stick lays.

  A pregnancy test.

  My heart drops.

  “Oh, baby,” I breathe, reaching for her and pulling her into my arms. “Don’t cry. I know, I wish things were different too. I still have hope, but give it time, Sav.” I don’t want to destroy her hope, but a huge part of me wishes she wouldn’t do this to herself. I know she takes a test every few times we have sex. I see the boxes disappear from beneath our bathroom sink and then restock every time she runs into town or the city for something.

  Her body shudders in my arms.

  “If it’s meant to be for us, it’ll be,” I continue, rubbing her back. The shuddering only seems to get stronger. Shit. What can I say that will make this all better?

  Then, I realize that she isn’t shuddering from tears.

  She’s…laughing.

  I pull back, truly concerned my wife has lost her shit. But there’s joy in her eyes as tears stream from them. Her smile is brilliant. She shakes her head.

  “No, Clay,” she says thickly. “No. Look. Look. Look.”

  She picks up the stick by the grip and holds it a few inches from my face. I’ve read so many pregnancy test instructions at this point, I don’t need a breakdown of what I’m looking at.

  I know.

  Two lines.

  Two beautiful, glorious, perfect little lines.

  Once several months ago, Savannah took a test and we thought we saw the second line. We were pretty sure it was there, just faint. When we went to the doctor, we were told it was a false positive.

  This test’s second line couldn’t be darker if it was drawn in Sharpie.

  “This…” I point at the readout. “You’re… It’s real. It’s happening.”

  Savannah bites her lip as she sets the stick down on a tissue. “I’ll need to go to the doctor to be sure. Get a blood test. But Clay… I can feel it. I know. That’s why I took a test just now. Something in my gut told me. We’re having our baby.”

  I sweep her into my arms. And I have no shame when I cry into my wife’s shoulder. Bramble, as if he truly understands what’s happening, circles us, his giant body knocking into us and his heavy tail swiping things off the counter. I reach down to rub his head.

  “I’m going to be a dad,” I say. “And you’re going to be a mom. And Bram’s going to be a brother.”

  She just holds me tighter.

  My mind is blown. My heart is overflowing. And my life…it feels complete.

  “I wish we could tell our family and friends,” I tell her, “but we should probably wait to be sure. Right?”

  She nods. “Yeah, we should.”

  Just then, her cell phone, on the bathroom counter, buzzes. At the same time, mine goes off too.

  “Maybe our family and friends are clairvoyant,” I joke, and we both reach for our phones.

  And then we both share the same shocked stare after reading the text we both got.

  3 | Forrest & Leila

  Forrest

  Leila storms around our kitchen—well, as much as an eight-months-pregnant woman can storm. I call it storming, but really, it’s just angry waddling.

  Not that I would ever call it waddling, not to her face. I value my life too much for that.

  “Honey,” I tell her gently as she puts the finishing touch on the sheet cake for Stone’s party tonight. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. It’s already going to be delicious.”

  “Yes, it does,” she growls back. There’s icing on her cheek and forehead. “Everything I make has to be perfect. It has to.”

  “But our friends aren’t customers,” I say. “They’ll love anything yo
u bring them. Besides, it doesn’t really matter what it looks like. It’s just going to get all mixed up in our mouths and stomachs, anyway. You don’t need to make such a big effort.”

  If looks could kill, the one she flashes me now would disembowel me slowly.

  Yikes.

  I walk toward her, my hands up in an “I’m not armed” gesture. I place them on her shoulders, half expecting my wife to bite my hands off.

  Pregnancy this past month has not been, how do you say, pleasant. Things went seemingly fine from early spring through fall. We got married in the late summer after the grand opening of Babycakes. Life was beautiful…up until about Thanksgiving. Then Leila’s discomfort really started to grow. Business started to pick up, but so did her stress and anxiety. She hasn’t been sleeping well. And that is not, her doctor told us sternly, good for our daughter.

  I’ve been there for her as much as possible, but when it comes to her business, she insists on being hands on. But this exhausts her. And when she gets exhausted, she goes on the defense with everything, up to and including me sometimes.

  I massage her shoulders. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m not trying to downplay your work. You’re unfairly talented.”

  Her shoulders relax a little.

  I kiss her cheek. “I just don’t want you to run yourself ragged. I know your work is important to you no matter who sees it. But you being healthy and comfortable is more important, especially with one month to go. That’s all I was trying to say.”

  “I’m just…” She sets down her offset spatula and pushes the cake off to the side, then grips her forehead. “I just feel…”

  I kiss her again. “You feel what?”

  “Like an insane person.” She draws a deep breath. “I need to calm down.”