Something True: Atlanta Outlaws

by Aja Cole

  “Hello little girl, are you gonna tell mommy what’s wrong? Are you too tired to sleep?”

  I don’t expect her to talk back, but you’ll try anything if it means getting the baby to sleep. To my surprise, she starts hiccuping and mumbling at me, like she’s agreeing. I listen to the coos and grumpy baby sounds in complete fascination, noticing movement in the corner of my eye. Jacks is leaning in the doorway, watching with a curious smile.

  I turn back to her, “We had a long day today, I know. Daddy and are sorry.”

  She coos and grumbles, little fists waving…but she isn’t crying anymore.

  “We’ll do better about socializing, okay? But we need you to go to bed because Mommy and Daddy are sleepy too and it’s way past your bedtime, young lady.”

  She baby talks some more and I take that as the closest thing to agreement that we’re going to get. I pick her up, swaddle her, rock her for a bit until she falls asleep. After I set her down in the crib again, we watch her warily, fully expecting her to wake up screaming again.

  “Maybe she just needed to tell you how annoyed she was.” Jackson takes my hand, pulling me from the room quietly. We shut the door and go back to the bedroom, cuddling up but fully expecting to have to get up again.

  We fall asleep in the middle of our fourth episode of The Good Place, not another baby cry heard until six hours later.

  I wake up to Jackson carrying me the twenty or so steps down the hall from the nursery to our bedroom, then bathroom. Neither of us says anything, and I yawn where I’m standing at the counter while he runs a bath in the tub, throwing a random bath bomb in from the container holding them.

  We donated his box of PR toiletries, and replaced them with stuff that’s all mine.

  It was more symbolic than anything, because I’ve got no doubts about us or him. I light a few candles on the counter and flip the lights because it’s better than the bright bulbs shining.

  I’m exhausted, the kind of tired that feels like it hasn’t gone away in a solid two weeks.

  No finesse, no sexy strip-tease, we both strip out of our clothes with silent efficiency before he helps me into the bath and we both sink into the steaming water, twin groans of relief filling the glass enclosed space.

  “Good game?”

  I’m a terrible hockey girlfriend, but I’m going to start going to the games when I’m not watching Aliya and when we want her out in public that way.

  “Yeah, we won. We’re looking good for the Cup this year.”

  I sink lower into the water, watching the swirling pink and white foaming on the surface of the water. “I’ll give you a massage once I feel human again.”

  “How about we book us both massages because we’re both killin’ it right now.”

  I move towards him in the water, turning to sit between his legs and lean back against him. He crosses an arm above my chest and the other around my waist, and I turn my head to look at him, reaching up to trace his low stubble. “Always thinking about me.”

  “Every damn day, for the rest of my life.”

  “I got lucky, you know. You’re a much better partner than I am.” I muse, “You’ve taught me a lot about being honest with myself, and being more mindful, and vulnerable.”

  “I think we’ve both got our strengths. Sometimes, you’re able to think more clearly than I am, you see things in ways that I might not have considered if you didn’t point it out.”

  “Are we exhaustion bonding right now?” I tease, and he laughs a little, squeezing me lightly. He nuzzles his lips along the shell of my ear, making me shiver.

  “I think I feel a second wind coming on.”

  I move my hands in the water to spread the bubbles around and notice something floating. I tap it with my foot, then my knee, sending it towards us with the small waves of water.

  It’s a sparkling ball, about an inch and a half wide. I pluck it out of the water, adjusting so I can see Jacks face.

  “What’s this?”

  “No idea, did it come from the bath bomb?”

  “I guess. Maybe we picked up one with a prize inside it.” I shake it next to my ear, listening to see if something rattles inside. “Or maybe it’s just a pretty ball.” I turn it in my fingers, feeling a seam. “Ooh, it opens!”

  I try for a few seconds, but it’s not budging for me. I pass it back to the strapping, muscle bound love of my life, sitting sideways across his lap. “Your turn, I can’t get it open.”

  He turns it in his hands, studying it before he presses on the seams, popping it carefully. Holding it in his large palm, he takes off the top, taking out a small slip of paper. I take it from him while he holds the halves of the ball.

  “Is it a fortune?”

  “No idea,” I pass it back, “It’s in Russian and you’re the only one that reads that.”

  His brow furrows, “What a strange bath bomb.”

  “What’s it say?”

  “Ty ta, kavo ya zhdal fsyu svayu zhizn’. Ty vydyoush za menya?” He reads it, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, I repeat it because I practiced it so many times after his parents told me the best way to say it.

  Jackson blinks, looking at the scroll, then me, then back at the words on the paper.

  “What?” He shakes his head in disbelief, face creasing with a big smile.

  “You’re one I’ve been waiting for my whole life. Will you marry me?”

  “I think I’m hallucinating because I’m fucking tired.”

  “Nope, this is very real.” I reach behind me to the ring I stashed, picking up his hand to push it on. It’s a slim black band that he can stack with the eventual wedding ring if he chooses. “The ring is on now so, it’s basically automatically binding.”

  He wraps long fingers around my neck, thumbs stroking my jawline, our faces together, breath mingling softly. “You’ve already given me the two most important things in my life. You, and Aliya. This is just a formality, because there’s no where else I want to be.”

  “Guess you’re stuck with us for more than six months now. I love you.” I whisper before I steal a kiss, and he holds me close when I’d pull away, eyes roving over my face. I swear I can feel it, like a soft caress, full of passion and tenderness.

  “I love you, Mama Smirf.” His hazel eyes crinkle with humor and I shriek when he surges out of the water, pulling me up with him, pressing my body against his without any room for Jesus. Not having a baby belly between us is quite honestly, amazing. I’ve been plastering myself all over him whenever I can since I had Aliya. “And now we’re getting out of this tub, because I can’t do everything to you that I’m thinking about in here.”

  After the quickest showers possible, we’re out of the bathroom, and I’m giggling like a schoolgirl while Jackson mock tackles me, doing his best to rid me of the towel I’m clutching around my breasts.

  “Let go, Nomi.” He tugs, eyes sparkling with mischief.

  38

  “Sir, this is very inappropriate behavior. I am a lady.” I gasp, scrambling backwards on the bed. “I think you need to exit my bedchambers.”

  He puts a knee to the bed, and it’s hard enough to keep my distance with his naked upper body showing, but the towel looks like it’s barely holding on, and it drops an inch, clinging to the matching muscle cuts at his hips. I lick my lips, dragging my gaze away with the willpower I’ve got left.

  He holds up his hand, “I do believe that this says you’re promised to me.”

  “Actually, I think it says that you’re promised to me.”

  “Maybe you should come over here and check me over, make sure everything’s to your liking.”

  “I...” I purse my lips, backing up a few more inches. “That’s okay, I trust the seller.”

  “Mmm that won’t do. A thorough inspection is just good business, ma’am.” He flicks the tucked edge of his towel and it falls away to a chorus of baby angels.

  I swallow hard, flushing with heat. Whew, this little game might end a bit so
oner than expected.

  “Looks amenable from here.” I rasp, bumping the headboard. I can’t go any further back than this, and he’s on his knees at the end of the bed, eyeing me like I’m sure lions stare down innocent gazelles.

  “We pride ourselves on unmatched quality, one of a kind.” He boasts, every word bringing him closer to me. His hands land on my lower thighs, and he moves them up, taking the towel up inch by inch. His voice lowers and so does his head before he looks up at me, yanking my legs apart and out from under me so that I find myself on my back, staring down my body with wide eyes and shallow breath. “Satisfaction guaranteed.”

  The long lick up my exposed pussy is obscene.

  But the sounds he makes after…those set me off, and I moan long and low, reaching for his hair and rolling my hips into his face. He groans and hums, holding me spread open with his big hands, squeezing and massaging my ass with his tongue circling and playing my clit like a fiddle. One hand moves to my slit, seeking and stroking softly. I breathe out, forcing myself to relax.

  I was cleared at my six week appointment, and we tried penetration about two weeks later, but it was not the most fun experience in the world. I haven’t been that uncomfortable since I had sex for the very first time and I had a few small tears then. We decided to hold off a little longer, and just keep treating our sex life as if we were new to it, exploring each other in other ways instead. It might have been a little frustrating, because I know exactly how I fit around his dick, how I love feeling him inside me, just how damned addicting he is; but it has made us even more intimate and connected.

  Now I need my body to cooperate because I am beyond ready to fuck my man again.

  He kisses each inner thigh, “Breathe.”

  “Easy for you to say.” I rub my foot along his back, leaning up on my elbows, gasping softly when he licks out, teasing my clit with firm strikes of his tongue.

  “I want to feel you wrapped me around me, but we’re not forcing it. I won’t have you in pain.”

  “I pushed a child out of there with no drugs, I think I can push past a little discomfort.” I assure him, “Besides, it’s gonna take a little time to go back to normal.”

  “You stop me if it’s painful.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  He nips my skin with his teeth in retribution, and I yelp, more out of surprise than injury.

  “Nomi.”

  “Jackson.” I counter, not budging. “The only way out is through it.”

  “Baby, I need to trust that you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

  I sit up further and reach down to smooth the crease on his forehead. The poor guy is genuinely concerned about causing me any more pain.

  “Okay, I will.” I stretch over to one of the bedside tables, and toss the goodies at him. “Lube, condoms, get in here.”

  His lips twitch, but he sheathes himself in the condom. “So damn bossy.”

  “All of us can’t have the patience of a saint.” I pout my lips, “You know how much I’m looking forward to feeling good enough for some angry make-up sex?”

  His wide shoulders shake with laughter, and it makes me grin. I love seeing him happy and expressive. “Give me some heads up before you piss me off just for rough sex, alright?”

  “We’ll make it a role-play thing.” I promise, eyes dropping to watch him fist his cock, stroking it a few times. I might be talking and teasing, but the need hasn’t let up for a second.

  We’re just really good by now at holding it at bay until it’s time to let loose.

  And by god, it is fucking time.

  I widen my legs, bracing my feet on the bed as I slide one hand down my body, slicking my fingers with the lube that he starts dribbling onto me. His fingers join in and I lift my hips, mouth parting on short pants as together, we ease the way for what’s to come. I circle my clit slowly, with just the right amount of pressure for heat to prick at my skin and pleasure to roll through my veins. Jackson slips one finger inside me, testing, and when I don’t do anything but moan, he adds another, massaging and stroking inside me until the fingers circling my clit are frantic and clumsy. That’s when he pushes my hand away, bending to roll my clit between his lips and fuck me with his fingers. I lift and squeeze my breasts, grinding my hips and keening low in my throat, rubbing in the milk drops from my nipples.

  “Look at you, all worked up.” He curls his fingers, blowing on my hot flesh. He suckles on my clit again, and I melt under the delicious assault, throwing my head back and pushing towards him. It’s so good, but I want more. I need more. I can feel it, the wind up that won’t stop with just any orgasm. No…this one’s gonna leave me on the edge until he fills me up, one thick, rigid inch at a time.

  “Baby,” I whine, thighs shaking, lids lowering.

  “Let me taste you, Nomi.” He growls, nipping at my skin, fucking me harder with his fingers, lapping his tongue at my throbbing clit relentlessly. Circling and pressing and doing his damnedest to make my eyes roll out the back of my head. I tremble under his touch, unable to push any words out. I clutch the sheets, my breasts, his hair. I push him away at the same time as I hold him tighter to me.

  I’m all sensation, fire, crazy with need.

  I couldn’t stop the orgasm if I wanted to.

  It melts me, turning my brain into slush while it pulls my muscles taut.

  It comes in waves and I can’t control myself or my volume. We remember at the same time that little ears are sleeping, and Jackson’s hand comes up to cover my mouth. I grip his wrist, lost in pleasure. Before it’s ended, he’s covering me, his mouth replacing his hand. I dig my fingers into his waves, gripping him with my thighs when his cock notches against me, hiding my face in his neck when he presses forward, parting my swollen flesh slowly…lovingly…patiently.

  “More.” I breathe.

  He rolls to the side, taking me with him. “Patience.”

  I straighten my bottom leg and hitch my other higher on his hips, combing his hair back with my fingers. I press down with my body, dragging my tongue up his cheek while I tighten my grip on his hair.

  “More.”

  He slips further inside and I ignore the light, burning stretch. It’s already better than last time, and I’ll be damned if he stops now because of a little discomfort.

  He groans, jaw tight. “Never wanna hurt you.”

  I sink a few more inches, hissing breath out through my teeth. “Some hurt is good hurt.”

  He gathers my hair in his hand, tightening it to pull my head back. The move makes me clench around him, eyes slipping shut. He’s a damn tease. “Stubborn woman.”

  “What are you gonna do about it?” I challenge, sending up a prayer that my body will cash this check I’m writing with my mouth.

  We need this, body. Don’t fuck this up!

  And because predictable isn’t his thing, he pulls out of me and away, snatching a few pillows off the bed to toss them to the bedroom floor on the other side of the room.

  Right in front of the large mirror that I’ve been meaning to have him put in the walk-in closet.

  “I want you on your knees, ass up, face the mirror.” The words are like hot honey off his tongue, and I slip off the bed, naked and on display.

  I drop to my knees on the pillows, pulling in a shuddering breath when I feel him behind me. Then I raise my eyes to the mirror, watching and feeling as he strokes my hair, moving down into a crouch. He presses against me, hand coming up to grip my throat.

  In the dim room, it feels dark…sexy…almost forbidden. Like we’re stealing time for ourselves, taking time to be us and not just new parents.

  “Beautiful.” He meets my eyes in the mirror, moving to his knees and bracketing my feet and body with his own. His hand trails over my collarbones and over my chest, until both are cupping my breasts. “Amazing.”

  They move down my stomach, over the skin that’s still squishy. “Strong.” He rests his chin on my shoulder, and I can’t look away from our re
flection. We contrast, his mild tan to my deeper. warm brown. His palms slide flat on my skin, possessive and hot. They move over my thighs, and he pulls them apart. I can feel his slick, hard cock against me, teasing, waiting. He uses his thumbs to part my labia, “Gorgeous.”

  Emotion hits me square in the chest and I cover his arms and hands with mine for a brief second before I put my hands on the pillows and walk them forward until my back is straight and I’m on all fours, still watching him.

  Wordlessly, I drop my upper body and he parts my wet pussy with his fingers, pushing into me with short, firm thrusts that steal my breath and try to steal my view, too.

  But I’m not closing my eyes, not for a second, because the look on his face…

  It’s the most arousing mix of passion and reverence, and I have never had someone look at me the way that Jackson does. As if he’s not only lost in the same lust that I am, but that he’s awed and aroused by so much more than that.

  By the love, by the same feeling of home that I feel when I’m so full of him that he touches every part of me. He moves me forward and to the side, managing to get the pillows under us too, still buried inside me so that every movement is extra sensation.

  Then he leans down to cover my back with his chest, and it’s when I let myself bask in that feeling that I missed when I was carrying life inside this body. Being surrounded by his strength, his scent, his masculinity, his love…something about this, about when we’re pressed against each other with no room to go anywhere, settles something deep inside that I didn’t realize was there.

  Jackson grips my chin, leaning around for a punishing, rough kiss that tells me what time it is.

  My walls squeeze and I’m ready, so damn ready and aching for what I know he can give me.