by Nicky James
My gaze was on Samson, and I was lost in my head, so I didn’t hear Max sneak up behind me. One of his arms found its way around my middle, and he tugged me until my back was flush to his front. Hot breath and a scratchy beard tickled my ear when he spoke.
“You were a good boy this weekend. I know that conference wasn’t really your thing, but you managed it well, and you took good care of Rory when he needed it.”
I sighed and wormed further into his arms, leaning my head back with a sappy smile, basking in the praise. “It was hard to behave. Some of it was sooooooo boring.”
“But you did well.” Moist breath and an open mouth surrounded my ear followed by an explorative tongue. I shivered, my legs growing weak. “Good boys deserve good things.”
“I was so, so good.”
My mind immediately went to hungry, wild sex rewards where Max worshiped me and made me come so many times my head exploded. I groaned at the thought, wiggling my ass back to see if I could encourage him along.
He drew my earlobe into his mouth, and I closed my eyes, moaning as my dick jolted to attention. I could get on board with this surprise.
Until something covered my eyes.
While I was distracted by Max’s attentions, I hadn’t noticed he was holding something in his other hand. My eyes flew open, but it was too late. I was greeted by darkness. Panic hit me, and I went rigid, my hands flying up to figure out what was happening.
Max yanked me closer, hushing me. “Trust me, boy. I have a surprise for you.”
“You're blindfolding me!”
Was this kinky?
I thought it was—once the immediate shock faded.
“I am because I don’t want you to see where we’re going.”
I touched my face over the blindfold. It was silky and not at all uncomfortable. Where the hell did it come from? Probably some treasure trove of kinky sex toys he’d never shared with me.
Max secured it with a skilled knot behind my head and asked, “Is it too tight?”
I shook my head, jerking it this way and that, but I was absorbed in complete darkness. “I can’t see anything.”
“Good.” There was far too much humor and satisfaction in his tone.
“You know, I’m quite familiar with our bedroom. I can see it inside my head even with this thing on, so it’s not really a surprise to take me to the bedroom. Unless…. Oh shit! Did you kidnap Ireland? Are we really gonna have that threesome? Is he tied up in our bedroom right now! Ireland? Can you hear me?” I yelled into the house.
The only response I got was Max laughing. “We aren’t going to the bedroom. Here, take my hand.”
“Wait. What?”
Max’s fingers slid into mine, weaving together. “I’m taking you somewhere special.”
“Oh. Okay.” I continued to look around unsuccessfully. “Is it far? Should I pee first?”
“Do you have to pee?”
“Nah, just checking. I mean, if we’re going to Spain or something, I should probably try.”
“We’re not going to Spain.”
“Australia?”
“No.”
“Japan?”
“No.”
“I’m really over the whole Tibet thing, and we both agreed my penis is a hot commodity in the bedroom. One we’d both miss.”
“We’re staying in Dewhurst.”
“Oh, then I’m good. I don’t have to pee.”
Max chuckled and guided me from the kitchen and out into the main room by the front door. I shuffled my feet slowly, not letting them leave the carpet or take bigger steps because I had this fear I would walk into furniture.
“Stand here a second,” Max said from my left.
His hand disappeared, and I froze, afraid to move because I didn’t honestly know exactly where we’d stopped.
A minute later, lips connected with mine, a possessive, damp and slightly scratchy kiss I returned before I jerked my head back, touching and feeling the face those lips belonged to. “I really hope that’s you, Max. If it’s not then whoever you are, you’d better run now. Max doesn’t share… yet. I’m still working on him.” Then I whispered, “Ireland? Is that you?”
A hand clamped the back of my head and pulled me against a mouth again. A mouth that was clearly smiling even though I couldn’t see it. “I will never share my boy. Get those thoughts out of your head. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes. I think so. You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?”
“Nope.”
He took my hand again and gave a tug, encouraging me to walk. I was all turned around now that we’d stopped for a few minutes so I proceeded slower than before, flinching with each step, certain I’d smack my face against a wall at any moment.
“I won’t let you hurt yourself,” Max assured me.
“I know. It’s just scary walking without seeing.”
The sound of Max’s automatic car starter beeped followed by the rumble of the engine coming to life.
“Come on then.”
Max clutched my waist, and I knew immediately to jump up and let him carry me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he held me tight with one arm under my ass. Seeing as I was doing this all blind, I snuggled into his neck and breathed him in.
“I love you,” I whispered.
He pecked a small kiss on my temple and walked about a dozen feet. “I love you. Now hop down so I can open the car for you.”
I did, and the door opening sounded on my right. Max directed me to sit inside, and he buckled me up, pressing one last kiss on my mouth before closing the door and going around to his side and getting in.
It was strange driving without seeing. Disorienting. I tried to keep track of the turns since I knew our neighborhood and Dewhurst well, but after less than a minute, I had no clue where we were.
“Is it far?” I asked.
“No. A few minutes.”
A few more turns and I started feeling nauseous from all the unexpected motion. I hoped he was right and it was close by because this wasn’t as much fun as it started off being.
“You okay?” Max asked as the car sat idling—I assumed we were at a stop light somewhere.
“Um… a little disoriented.”
“We’re here.”
The engine died, and Max touched my cheek. I flinched at the unexpected contact but relaxed immediately as he stroked a thumb over my bottom lip.
“Can I take the blindfold off?”
“Not yet. When we get inside.”
I tried to think of any and everything this could be. “Is this an early birthday surprise? My birthday isn’t for a month and a half, but is it?”
“No. It’s a because I love you and want you to be happy always surprise.”
Well, that didn’t help clarify anything.
Max helped me out of the car and picked me up again so I didn’t have to walk in the scary unknown darkness. We entered a building and immediately I was struck by a smell I recognized except I couldn’t place it.
It was funny how removing a sense made the rest all misfire a little despite them feeling more intense. The smell was significant and strong. Had I been able to see, I was sure I’d have had no issue associating it to its location. However, I was stumped.
We passed through a second doorway and into another assault of a different sense. This one I knew. Yipping and whining. Barking and meowing. All echoing around us.
The smell made sense, and my face split into a wide grin as I whipped my head one way then another, wishing I could see.
“We’re at the shelter!” I exclaimed, wiggling down from Max’s hold. “I know it. I hear all the cuteness. Can I look now? Max? Please!”
Max was there, and he peeled back my blindfold. I blinked at the suddenly bright lights a few times before spinning around and viewing the large room, bubbles of excitement bursting through my veins.
“Surprise,” Max said brushing a kiss on my cheek. “I thought you’d like to expand our family and fi
nd an Augustus to bring home.”
My eyes couldn’t widen more and I only barely resisted bouncing on my feet. “And a Caesar too?” I asked. “Please say yes. Please say we can get an Augustus and a Caesar.”
“Consider the responsibility.”
“I know, I know. I’ll never complain about the disgusting litter box again. I promise. Even though it would be three times as bad. Please!”
Max chuckled. “Then choose away, boy. Anything for you.”
It took over two hours.
I played with every cat in the shelter, unable to decide who needed a home the most. My heart broke leaving so many behind, but once I’d decided on two new additions to our family—an Augustus who ended up being a fourteen-week-old white and silver Persian—and a Caesar—a ten-week-old orange and white tabby with six toes on both his front paws—Max and I left the shelter.
We stopped at the pet store on the way home, and Max let me buy basically one of everything. Our cart was overflowing, and I couldn’t wait to get home and introduce our new boys to Samson.
At home, I carried the new additions inside and made the introductions while Max unloaded the car. Samson was not impressed at having his space invaded, but thankfully, he was more a silent observer than an aggressor of the two babies.
Augustus and Caesar explored while I continuously reminded them where the litter boxes were—just in case.
It’d been a long and exhausting day of travel and picking animals, so when dinner came along, Max called for delivery. While we waited for our food to arrive, we snuggled on the couch. Augustus took a liking to Max and curled up in his lap for a nap. I shimmied closer and got my share of cuddles in too.
I couldn’t see Max and I ever having kids like Finn and Aven. It wasn’t something either of us wanted. But our little family of fur-babies was perfect. My heart warmed watching them all play and run around.
I tilted my head and peered up into Max’s content face looking back down at me.
“Thank you,” I said. “This is the best day ever.”
He carefully leaned in—not disturbing his lap guest—and kissed me soundly. “Every day with you is perfect, boy. You’re loved. Don’t you forget it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Finnley
It was like having an out of body experience. I saw everything that was happening around me: Aven standing at Bryn’s other side, wiping her sweaty face between every push, the doctor, geared up in scrubs, a face mask, and gloves, two nurses following his every instruction, and Bryn, exhausted, sweat-soaked, hair messy and stuck to her temples and forehead, face pinched in pain even when the contractions let up.
I was somewhere amongst it all, a little lost and a lot overwhelmed, encouraging Bryn as much as I was able, telling her how well she was doing all while our baby was fighting to enter the world.
“Another one, no, no, no. I’m too tired.”
But Bryn’s body didn’t let up, and that baby wanted out.
Bryn clamped down on my hand as I helped her lift her shoulders off the bed. Her face strained and turned beet red, veins protruding along her neck as she pushed with everything she had to get the baby out.
“You’re doing great. That’s it,” I encouraged.
Seeing her in so much agony was terrifying. I knew logically that giving birth was no walk in the park, but seeing it first hand was sobering.
Aven rubbed her back and watched the doctor, a worried expression stuck permanently on his face. I was certain my husband was having the same spinning thoughts I was. Nothing had prepared us for this reality.
“That’s it,” the doctor said. “Keep going. A little more. We have a head crowning. I see red hair.”
Bryn’s contraction ended, and she collapsed as tears streamed down her face. “I can’t. It’s too hard. I’m so tired.”
“You can,” Aven crouched to her level, making eye contact and mopping her brow. “You’re so close.”
Red hair. Our baby had hair. Red hair. We’d wondered for months what he or she might look like.
“Okay, the next push, I want you to give it all you’ve got, Bryn. We’re going to deliver the head. You’re almost done,” the doctor said.
Bryn sputtered and whimpered, but as the next contraction hit, she gave it her all. She was such a trooper. Again, I helped prop her forward while she screamed and pushed and screamed some more.
My entire body tensed along with her, and I couldn’t fight the urge to copy her actions, straining and holding my breath as well as she pushed.
“That’s it. Keep going,” the doctor said. “If you guys want to see your baby being born, now is the time.”
My eyes bulged as I darted my gaze to Aven. His face reflected my panic almost exactly. We’d discussed the actual physical act of seeing our baby being born for all of ten seconds before dismissing the idea. We’d seen videos in Bryn’s prenatal classes, and that was enough. It seemed too… personal somehow. We’d both been cautiously avoiding Bryn’s lower half even when she’d told us repeatedly she didn’t care.
Aven shook his head and stared at the doctor as Bryn continued to scream. Neither of us moved. For a flash, the doctor’s eyes flicked between us before she returned to her job.
Then Bryn collapsed again, panting, face scrunched in agony. “Oh my God, that hurts!”
“Last one,” the doctor said. “If you give me a good push, I’ll have the baby out on the next go.”
My heart thudded so hard and so fast, I felt its pulse radiate down my arms and up my neck into my throat. This was it.
There was less than a minute before we were back in action. Bryn threatened the vitality of the bones in my hand as Aven and I watched each other. Just as the doctor said, “here we go,” the baby entered the world, and I found myself unable to not look.
“We have a little girl,” the doctor said.
I think my heart stopped in that moment. The world itself slowed until I was pulled into a vacuum, unable to breathe, unable to process sounds or instructions. Such an overwhelming wave of shock and joy washed over me.
We had a baby girl. A girl. And she was screaming her little lungs off, but it was the most precious sound I’d ever heard in my life.
My eyes pooled as I stared and I couldn’t blink enough to clear them. The doctor suctioned her nasal passages and throat as a nurse wiped off the excess blood they really didn’t tell you about in prenatal class.
“Who is cutting the cord?” the doctor asked, breaking through the stunned state of mind that had engulfed me.
I found Aven’s face, and he was staring down at our baby, pale and looking about as shocked as I felt.
“They are,” Bryn said when neither of us answered.
I snapped my head around and blinked at her. Her strained face had relaxed, and she smiled up at me, reaching out with a hand.
“Cut the cord, Finn. I know you guys wanted to.”
I nodded and looked again at my husband. “Aven,” I choked.
Without turning his gaze from the baby, he too nodded. “I know. I just… Wow. We… We have a daughter.”
More tears blurred my vision.
A daughter.
The doctor walked us through it and together, we cut the cord and watched as one of the nurses on the sidelines took the baby and put her on a scale.
“Seven pounds, one ounce,” the woman said, smiling over her shoulder at us. “Ten fingers and ten toes. She looks perfect.”
She was perfect. The most beautiful thing I’d seen in all my life.
The nurse took more measurements as Aven and I stood shoulder to shoulder looking on, hypnotized by the whole experience. Then, the nurse wrapped our baby girl tightly in a pink blanket, stuck a matching hat on her head and brought her over to us.
A sob broke from my lips as more tears spilled over so fast my baby girl blurred before my eyes. I couldn’t contain them no matter how hard I tried. When I looked at Aven, he wasn’t doing much better. Long streaks of tears rolled down
his cheeks as he held a hand to his mouth in disbelief.
“Who wants to hold her first?” the nurse asked.
“Finn,” Aven blubbered. “Finn needs to be first. Go ahead, baby.”
The nurse laid the small bundle of pink in my arms. She was as light as a feather. Her little hands were in tight fists by her face, and she moved her lips like she was trying to get one near enough to suck on. Her eyes were pinched closed, but she was content and no longer wailing. Little squeaking noises burst from her lips now and again, and they shot straight to my heart.
Aven peeked under her little cap as he crowded in close, touching me, staring down at our baby in awe. “Look at her hair. It’s curly and so red.”
I choked on a mixed smile-sob and bent to kiss her. “She’s perfect.”
“Come on,” Aven said. “Let Bryn see her too.”
Together, we carried our baby girl over to Bryn’s side. She was smiling and crying at the same time—there seemed to be an epidemic of that going around.
She took one look at the baby she’d spent the last hour pushing out into the world and covered her mouth as her eyes overflowed with fresh tears.
“She’s perfect, isn’t she,” Aven said.
Bryn nodded and looked between us. “Does she have a name?”
I peered up at Aven who smiled. “She does. We’re calling her Scarlet Bryn.”
Hearing that made Bryn cry harder. “I love it. You two take good care of her. Promise me.”
We had known this would be hard on Bryn. She stoically held her chin high even when it warbled. Seeing her come apart, I passed our new little bundle off to Aven so I could comfort her. She held me tight and cried onto my shoulder.
Bryn meant so much to us both. She’d carried our little girl selflessly for nine months and made sure we were with her every step of the way.
“Promise me,” she said again. “Promise you’ll take good care of her.”
“She’ll want for nothing. I promise you. She’s going to be spoiled rotten. We’ve loved her every day we’ve known about her, and that will never change. We’re just going to keep on loving her more every day.”