Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2)

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Blood & Bones: Sig (Blood Fury MC Book 2) Page 24

by Jeanne St. James

Sig was ready to pop now.

  His temper had been simmering for the last month, since the day Red was outed to the Shirleys, and he had no fucking way to relieve it.

  He didn’t feel right about going downstairs, using a sweet butt to get off—and more, depending on her limits—and then climbing into bed with Red.

  She didn’t deserve that kind of filth. She’d had enough of it with what she had to deal with while on that mountain.

  So, he suffered instead.

  He suffered with his temper, he suffered with sleeping next to Red and he suffered with the hard-ons she gave him even though she didn’t mean to.

  She was now huge compared to what she was when he found her.

  Because of that, her awkwardness was much worse. She waddled around the apartment like a fucking penguin, her hands always holding onto her belly as if she was afraid it would just drop to the ground.

  And then she’d wince when either the kid kicked the shit out of her insides or when she had back spasms and stomach cramps, which the doc called Toni Braxtons or some such shit.

  The doc said it was her body preparing to spit out that kid. Why they were named after some singer he had no fucking clue. Even so, Red said she couldn’t wait. And though Sig kept it to himself, he couldn’t wait, either.

  Not that he wanted Red to leave, which would happen once she pushed the kid out, but because she looked completely uncomfortable. Miserable even.

  However, the doc also said she and the kid were looking a lot healthier and hoped for a birth without too many complications.

  In Sig’s opinion, one complication was too many. Not that anyone asked him.

  His eyes slid to the bedroom door as her belly entered the room before she did.

  Fuck, it looked as though she’d swallowed a fucking basketball. Or a large pumpkin with a stem because her belly button was totally pushed out and visible against the maternity nightie that she now had no choice to wear since she no longer could squeeze into his shirts.

  She’d tried. And she’d split one.

  One night he caught her sitting on the bed in just her “boy shorts,” what she called those panties she wore, crying about it with the ruined tee clutched in her hands.

  “It’s an old T-shirt, Red, nothing to fuckin’ cry about.”

  She’d lifted her tear streaked face up to him and wailed, “I knooooow. But it’s your T-shirt.”

  “Jesus fuck,” he had muttered under his breath. She fucking cried about everything. A stupid commercial, her toast being too dark, the fact that he had to leave to actually do some repo jobs so he could buy her fucking groceries—since she now ate non-stop—and, worse, she cried over nothing.

  She just cried.

  It had been cute at first. Now it wasn’t.

  He worried about her sanity more than ever.

  But that day she sat on the edge of the bed naked, except for those light blue boy shorts, had got him right in the fucking chest.

  Why he had a thing for pregnant women, he had no fuckin’ clue.

  Or maybe it was just Red.

  Her tits had gotten heavier, her nipples bigger and darker, her belly had blown up and her face had rounded out a little. Her hips had widened and her thighs had thickened. But fuck, when she sat there crying over his fucking ripped shirt, all he wanted to do was fuck her until she stopped crying.

  He didn’t.

  Instead, he’d taken a fucking shower, whacked off and watched as his cum circled the drain and disappeared.

  And when he opened his eyes, he’d noticed she was in the bathroom peeing, and watching him.

  “It’s only natural,” she announced, wiped, washed her hands and waddled back out of the room.

  She was whacked.

  And, for fuck’s sake, her being that whacked made him want her even more.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  He was afraid he would start spinning out of control the day she left and never stop until something or someone had to force him to.

  But for now, she had a month to go and had taken one of her countless trips to the bathroom and was headed back to the bed to climb back in with him.

  And he was in no rush to get out of bed this morning, not when she was in it with him.

  With cute little grunts and groans—which he was sure she didn’t think were so cute—she got back into bed, rolled to her side, facing away from him, then backed her ass, which was also a lot fuller now, right into his hard-on.

  “Oh,” she squeaked.

  “Yeah, shoulda known that might be an issue.” Because it wasn’t anything new with them sleeping together.

  She giggled but didn’t pull away.

  “Probably be best to give it some space, Red.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Yeah, well... It ain’t always about you.”

  She giggled again which again shook her ass against his dick. That did not help.

  It wouldn’t take much for him to pull those boy shorts she now wore everyday down her thighs and slide deep inside her.

  But he wasn’t sure if she was ready for that mentally, and physically, he wasn’t sure if that was allowed this late in the pregnancy. It wasn’t anything they’d asked the doctor because Sig didn’t think it would happen anyway.

  They touched. They kissed. Sig disappeared and fucking whacked off elsewhere.

  With another little grunt she reached behind her, grabbed his arm and drew it around her. Then she released a contented sigh like she always did when she wanted him to hold her.

  She had no idea how much fucking willpower it took to just do simply that: hold her and not take it any further.

  But it wasn’t as bad as the times she explored his body with her touch or she encouraged him to explore hers. Those days almost fucking killed him.

  He felt like he had a constant hard-on. His dick hated his guts and his nuts wanted to split up with him.

  He never jerked off so much in his goddamn life. And it wasn’t just that one time she’d caught him in the shower. He was doing it so fucking often, she didn’t even blink an eye anymore when she saw him.

  She never acted disgusted, never was embarrassed, she just acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary. Since she seemed to be okay with it, he stopped worrying about her catching him.

  It was almost to the point where he hoped she did. Having her watch turned him the fuck on and he was hoping it turned her on a little bit, too.

  He shifted his hips back and away from her soft ass, grumbling, “Gonna go shower.”

  She tightened her grip on his arm, holding it more securely across her body. “It’s only four-thirty.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You have somewhere to go this early?”

  “Nope, just the shower.”

  She wiggled back again, shoving her ass tightly against his dick.

  “Red, baby,” he warned.

  “It’s okay.”

  He lifted his head slightly but couldn’t see her face because her back was to him. “What’s okay?”

  “You being hard.”

  “Okay for you, not okay for me. My dick hates me right now.”

  She laughed softly. “I’m sorry.”

  “No the fuck you’re not ‘cause you’re fuckin’ laughin’.”

  She smothered another little laugh, but ground her ass cheeks into his aching dick.

  “Red... fuck. You’re killin’ me here.”

  She grabbed his hand and slid it to her tit.

  “Red,” he breathed.

  What the fuck was she doing?

  “Red,” he said again, a lot more firmly this time as she squeezed his hand over her tit, which made him squeeze it.

  “Touch me.”

  “Baby, a man can only take so much.”

  “A woman can only take so much, too.”

  “You want me to touch you there?”

  “Not just touch.”

  “Red...”

  “Sig... I trust y
ou. I want you. I want this.”

  “What’s ‘this?’” Because if it was just a bunch of touching again where he ended up more frustrated and horny than anything, he wasn’t in the mood for that this morning. He was already at a breaking point. If she kept grinding her ass against him, he wasn’t going to make it to the fucking shower, he was going to blow his load in the boxers he forced himself to wear.

  He pressed his face into her hair and squeezed his eyes shut. “Red,” he whispered, “Seriously, you’re playin’ with fire right now.”

  “I’m over eight months pregnant.”

  No shit. “Hard to miss.”

  “And you’re still getting hard.”

  “That’s hard to miss, too.”

  “You want me...”

  “Ain’t hidden that fact.”

  “Like this.”

  “Yeah, baby. You’re still you.”

  Her fingers tightened on his hand she held against her tit. He hadn’t moved it at all, afraid if he gave in to temptation and began to play with them, he might take it farther than she was ready to.

  “You sneak one of my joints when you went to pee or somethin’?”

  She chuckled. “No. But the truth is, I never expected to be horny when I’m this big.”

  “You’re horny.” He’d kept his voice level, though it was difficult.

  “Yes! I wanted to wait until after the... baby is born to have sex with you, but I don’t think I can wait.”

  Sig lifted his head again, then shifted his weight so he could get a better look at her face. “Look at me.”

  She turned her head enough so they could see each other.

  “You were plannin’ on havin’ sex with me after the kid was born?”

  “Well, as soon as it was okay to have it.”

  “You wanna have sex with me.”

  “Yes. You couldn’t tell?”

  “How long after the kid’s born can we have sex?”

  “I don’t know... I didn’t ask Carly. But I don’t want to wait.”

  “Hold up.”

  “Sig...”

  “Red, you want to have sex with me now?”

  “Yes. I pulled it up on the tablet you got me and read that it’s okay to have sex up to the day of delivery.”

  Sig’s lips twisted. “So, you got dick going in while the kid’s comin’ out?”

  She laughed. “Not during delivery. Yikes. That would be unpleasant.”

  “Yeah. For everyone involved.”

  “So, it should be safe.”

  “You ask the doc?”

  “I asked her, yes.”

  “When?”

  “I texted her to make sure.”

  “You texted the doc to make sure it was okay for you to have sex with me.” Was he awake? Or in some sort of fucking whacked-out dream? Because they both were still having those.

  “Yes. She just said that it shouldn’t be missionary or any position where there’s pressure on the baby. Doggy-style and on my side would be fine.”

  Doggy-style and on my side would be fine.

  “Jesus fuck,” he muttered.

  “If you don’t want to...”

  “Red, you seriously want this? I mean... I... Fuck.”

  “You don’t want to,” she said, sounding disappointed.

  He hated to disappoint her so he usually made sure she got whatever she wanted. But this wasn’t like pancakes or loaded French fries. Or even a subscription to Netflix.

  “Baby, want you so bad, you have no fuckin’ idea. I can come up with plenty of positions that aren’t gonna put pressure on your stomach. But are you ready?” Her wanting to have sex with him scared the shit out of him. He’d never been careful having sex before because he never had to.

  He took what he wanted, how he wanted it and never worried about the bitch attached to the snatch. He’d always told them they were just getting his dick and usually some extra shit, whatever he was in the mood for.

  He’d never asked a woman what the fuck she wanted because he’d never given a fuck before.

  “I’m not going to let them control or destroy the rest of my life.”

  And that was fucking great, but... “Baby...”

  “And by you not trusting my judgement, then you’re letting them do that.”

  Damn. There was that fiery attitude that turned him the fuck on. “No, just wanna make sure. It’s a big fuckin’ step. Not just for you but for us.”

  One of her eyebrows rose sharply. “Oh, that’s what you tell all the women beforehand who you have sex with? How many times do you ask them if they’re sure? How many times do you tell them sex with them is a big step for you and her?”

  Fuck. “Never.”

  “Right.”

  “But they...”

  “Yes. I get it. Now can we not talk about that? In fact, I’d prefer not to talk at all and do other things instead. If you’re worried, we’ll go slow. If anything bothers me, I’ll let you know.”

  “Not sure I can just shut shit down like that, Red. That’s my fuckin’ worry.”

  “I’ve been here for a month and a half. Not once, Sig... Not once have you done anything to me I haven’t wanted. When we needed to stop, you stopped. Not once have I worried that you’d totally lose control and take it too far.”

  “I’ve lost control,” he reminded her.

  “Not with me.”

  She was right. He’d never once pushed her farther than she’d wanted to go or could handle. Not once.

  He never treated any woman like he had her. Not fucking one.

  But then he had never been given a reason to.

  There had been only one reason for him to deal with a woman. Okay, two. One had been just to bust a nut, the other was to relieve his mounting temper.

  Red had never been either of those.

  She still wasn’t. And never would be.

  “Gonna take it really slow,” he warned, more to himself than her.

  “Not too slowly.” She squeezed the hand that was cupping her tit again, then released it and he left it there. “My nipples are really sensitive right now.”

  He hesitated.

  “I didn’t tell you that so you’d stop.”

  He grinned and began to knead her tit and brush his fingers over her hard nipple through the fabric.

  “Help me take this off,” she said breathlessly, tugging at the loose nightie.

  He helped her to a seat, yanked it over her head and tossed it to the floor.

  She tucked her fingers into the top of her boy shorts. “These next and your boxers.”

  “Red...”

  “Just do it.”

  He raised his brows but slowly helped peel her out of her panties and shucked his boxers, throwing them somewhere behind him.

  “We gonna need a wrap?”

  “A wrap?”

  “Yeah, are we gonna...”

  “A wrap... Oh... I hope so. So, yes?”

  He didn’t quite like the question mark on the end of that, but his dick twitched at that news, anyway. He scrambled to his knees, leaned over her and reached for the nightstand drawer on her side of the bed. When he did, he jerked when she grabbed his hard as fuck dick and began to stroke it.

  “Red... might not wanna do that.”

  “Why?”

  “Just... not now.” Because her touching it right now was like pulling a pin on a grenade.

  She released him. “I’ve been jealous of your fist.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve been wanting to touch you there for a while now.”

  “Wouldn’t have stopped you.”

  “I know. But I know how hard,” she released a soft snort, “it is for you to be left hanging.”

  He ripped the drawer open, grabbed a strip of wraps and moved back beside her.

  He now had a string of precum hanging from the tip of his dick. Anticipation was a goddamn heady motherfucker.

  And this had been a long time coming. Which m
eant it wouldn’t take him long to come. A wrap would help keep him from blowing his load in less than thirty seconds. Hopefully.

  “Touch me,” she moaned when he pressed himself against her again, so he was behind her, both of them on her sides.

  What Red wanted, Red got.

  “Tell me if I get too rough, baby. If somethin’s wrong, if you need to pause, stop, whatever, just say the word.”

  “This time I want you to touch me all over and then... have sex with me. If this goes well... next time I want to touch you all over and then have sex with you.”

  “Fuck, baby. While that sounds like a plan I can get the fuck on board with, let’s just get through this time first and see how you feel.”

  What happened on that mountain could screw with her head, and even if it didn’t, he wasn’t sure how comfortable sex would be for her being that pregnant.

  But they were both fucking naked, he was hard as a fucking rock, and she was asking for him to touch her.

  So, he touched her. Everywhere. Starting with her face, her lips, moving down her throat and then stopping at her tits, a place he hadn’t touched her before. All those nights, all those mornings they touched each other, he’d avoided them, waiting for her to give the go ahead. Now he had it.

  He squeezed and kneaded, her hand wrapping around his to encourage him to continue. He brushed his thumb over the tight tips and twisted each one gently.

  Her breathing became hitched, as did his. Since her head was laying on his extended right arm, he only had his left hand free. But he made good use of it. At least, according to Red’s little moans and sighs. He stayed there awhile, showering her now heavy tits with all of the attention, listening to her whimpers and words of encouragement.

  Burrowing his face into her hair, he swept his palm over the tight skin of her belly and lower, where he paused. “Red...”

  “Please.”

  He closed his eyes for a second, inhaled deeply and then he touched her tentatively there. And though he couldn’t see that fiery patch of hair, his fingers brushed through it, almost afraid to go any lower.

  “Red.” Her name got caught in his throat. He did not want this to go wrong. He did not. Not their first time together.

  They should wait.

  He could fucking wait. He’d already waited. There was no reason to rush it. Though, his dick disagreed.

  As he pulled his hand away, she grabbed it and stopped him, putting it back where it had been. “Please,” she said more firmly. “I know you’re scared, I’m scared, too. But we can’t let fear stop us, Sig. I can’t. I trust you.”

 

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