Playing With Fire (Grindstone Harbor, #2)

by Cat Mason

  “Brick by brick,” he breathes, flashing me that perfect smile, dimples and all. “I do, too, baby. I do, too.”

  “Well shit,” Hunter mutters. “You two just did all the damn work for me.” Shrugging, he places a hand on each of our shoulders closest to him. “I now pronounce you two husband and wife. You may kiss the shit out of your bride and now be lawfully wedded spooners and forkers! Amen!”

  Cheering and whistling erupt all around us. Grabbing my face, Tanner slams his mouth to mine. His kiss is soft but doesn’t stay that way. Groaning, he thrusts his tongue into my mouth, kissing me deep. Sliding an arm around my waist, he pulls me against him, claiming me right there on the steps of the clerk’s office.

  “All right,” Greer bites out. “That’s my still my sister. Break it up before YouTube gives you a triple X rating.”

  Pulling back, I turn in Tanner’s arms, my back to his chest. His hands slide down to my belly, his lips at my ear. Looking around, I see the people closest to me, all happy for the first time in what feels like forever. I can’t help comparing who we have become to the people we were when the tour ended months ago. So much has changed. There are no storm clouds looming over our heads, waiting to strike us down. Every challenge that we are faced with, every battle we have to fight, we can face together, as a family. Not bound by blood, but by love.

  Turning my face, I catch Tanner’s lips with mine. Running my hands over his forearms, I smile. “God, I like you.”

  “Mmm,” he purrs, kissing me back.

  “I also want my shirt back,” I say into his mouth.

  “Don’t worry, babe,” he murmurs, nuzzling my neck. “I have no intention of wearing it very long.”

  I giggle. “I’m shocked that wasn’t in your vows.”

  “I’ve got an entire set of x-rated vows for when I get you naked.” I shiver at his promise.

  Tanner and I may have had to take the road through hell at times to get where we are today, but everything in me believes it’s been worth it. All that has happened molded us like an iron in the fire. We’ve come out changed, bound together, but as time passes, we become stronger for it.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Vaginal Panic Button

  Tanner

  Not Quite Twenty Weeks Later

  “Quinn?” I murmur, pressing my lips to her bare shoulder. Sliding my arm over her body, I cup her breast, flicking her nipple with my thumb. One of my favorite things about Quinn being ready to pop is the fact that she can’t sleep worth a damn unless she’s naked. Pressing my chest to her back, I grind my dick against her ass. “You awake?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” she murmurs sleepily. “The vagina is now closed. Please come back during our open hours.”

  “Baby,” I purr, nipping her earlobe. Her hips jerk, sending her body rocking back against mine.

  “That feels good,” she moans, pushing her chest against my hand. “I can’t sleep when you’re doing that.”

  “It’s supposed to flurry all day,” I whisper, kissing my way down her neck. “I say we stay right here.”

  “We’ve got shit to do,” she announces, attempting to be the voice of reason. “We have a Skype with Jazz at noon. Plus, you and Evan are supposed to put together the crib.”

  “I thought Greer did that yesterday.” My hand moves to her other breast, her hips rocking back against me again.

  “No,” she says breathlessly. “He and Bristol spent twenty minutes arguing about which wall to put it on, then ended up beating the hell out of each other with those horseshoe looking pillows my mother sent for breastfeeding the baby.”

  “That how the wall clock got broken?” I ask, chuckling.

  “Mhm,” she hums. “Along with the vase and corner table in the hallway.”

  Sliding my hand down over her belly, I feel the baby roll and bump against my palm. “Somebody’s restless this morning.”

  “If he’s so restless, maybe he should come out already.” Quinn rolls onto her back. Opening her eyes, she looks up at me, her hand covering mine on swollen belly. “I’m miserable,” she whimpers, sounding completely overwhelmed and frustrated. “My back has been killing me all night. I’m fat, exhausted and tired of waddling around this house like a migrating penguin.” She looks down at her belly, a wave rolling across it from the baby. “I’m evicting you, kid,” she says sternly, poking the next spot he thumps with her index finger. “Do you hear me? It’s time to evacuate the mothership.”

  “The doctor said any day,” I remind her, pulling her closer to me. “Trust me, no one’s more excited about meeting him than I am.”

  “I’ve been packin’ this kid around for months,” she smirks. “I’m totally ready to pass the potato.”

  “Mmm.” I tease, leaning down to kiss her lips softly. “Spud Hewitt.”

  “No,” she giggles, her tits pressing tightly to my chest. Fuck. I love the way she feels against me. “We’re not naming him Spud.” Winding her arms around my neck, she makes room for me between her thighs. “You’ve woken me up,” she says, flicking my bottom lip with her tongue. “Now, make love to me.”

  “Happily.” Bracing myself on my forearm, I slide my hand between our bodies, two fingers sliding into her pussy. “Always ready for me.” Taking her mouth, I fuck her slowly with my fingers, wanting to draw out each and every moan of pleasure she gives me. It never gets old. I can’t get enough of her. Every breathless sound that leaves her lips, every whimper of pleasure when her body shudders against mine only makes me want more.

  Unable to wait another second, I push up to my knees. Fisting my cock, I ease into her slowly, watching her mouth fall open on a sigh as she takes my cock. “Baby.”

  “Right here, Quinnie,” I force out through gritted teeth, not wanting to move just yet. I want to savor the moment. The way she looks up at me, her eyes soft, lips swollen from our kiss, her body full of me. It’s everything. She’s everything.

  “Tanner.” My name is a plea. “I need you to move. God, please fucking move.”

  Shifting my hips, I pull almost completely out of her, before slamming back in balls deep. Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her up to me. Not allowing her to lose even an inch of my cock, I drop to my back on the bed, putting her on top, straddling my hips. “Fuck me,” I growl, my hands going to her ass. “Nice and slow, baby.”

  Trapping her bottom lip between her teeth, Quinn moves her hips. My grip on her ass tightens, helping lift her, but controlling the pace slow to keep it slow and even. Making sure it isn’t over too fast. Her tits bounce with every move of her body, belly swaying in time with her hips. My body tightens like a spring. “Tanner,” she moans, throwing her head back. Hands going to my thighs, she arches her back, pushing out her chest. Fuck yes.

  Taking one hand from her ass, I find her clit, my fingers working her, pushing her to the edge. “Find it, Quinn,” I growl, needing her there.

  “Fuck!” she cries out, bucking against me. “Ah. There. I’m there. God. Yes!”

  Letting myself go, I thrust up into her, chasing my own release, feeding off hers. “That’s it, baby.” Rolling us, I settle her on her back, driving inside again, losing myself all that is my girl. “Fuck,” I bark, stilling balls deep. Nearly collapsing, I brace myself on my forearms to keep from crushing her and the baby beneath my weight. Catching my breath, I sit up, my cock sliding free. A rush of fluid runs out of her onto the sheets.

  “What the hell was that?” she shrieks, trying like hell to sit up. “Did I pee? Oh my God! I peed on your dick. I’m so sorry.”

  “Babe,” Climbing off the bed, I help ease her to the edge. Sitting her up, I get her to a dry spot, letting her feet dangle off the side. “I think your water broke.”

  “Really?” she hisses, pressing a hand to her back. “Shit that hurts.”

  “Time to go to the hospital.” Yanking on a pair of sweats, I fling open the door and run into the bathroom. Grabbing a washcloth and a towel, I help her clean up before she yanks on one of
the dozen maxi dresses she has worn the last few months. Wrapping an arm around her, I help her down the stairs. “Yo!” I shout down the hall, toward the kitchen.

  “It’s baby time, assholes!” Quinn yells, hand going to her lower back. “Fuck me. This isn’t okay. Why the hell does my back hurt? Someone needs to tell this kid to quit the shit. He’s comin’ out of my vagina.”

  “Oh my God!” Bristol’s shrill scream echoes through the house as she barrels up the hall. Skidding to a stop, she throws up her hands. “Oh my God!”

  “For fucks sake,” Greer shouts, flinging open his bedroom door. “There are some things a brother doesn’t need to hear his sister doing. Fuckin’ his best fr—” Freezing, he studies the scene. “Oh, I thought you two were...” he clears his throat. “What’s up?”

  “It’s baby day, Uncle G!” Bristol yelps excitedly. “Hmm.” Tapping her lips with her index finger, she studies Quinn. “Does it hurt?” she asks, curiously. “Like on a scale from one to ten, what’s your pain level.”

  “I hate you,” Quinn grunts, dragging in a breath. “Hate you and your non-dilating snatch so much right now.”

  “Hey,” Bristol says, arching a brow. “It’s not my fault Tanner was balls deep and the poor kid freaked out and hit the vaginal panic button.”

  “The what?” I ask, not having a fucking clue what she’s talking about.

  “It means you scared the kid with your fuckstick!” Bristol shouts. “I hope you’re ready to pay for therapy, Maybe Daddy. That kid’s first memory of you is gonna be you tryin’ to put dents in his head.” Pointing at me, she narrows her eyes. “We want a normal headed baby, Tanner.”

  “There’s no time to discuss whether or not Tanner traumatized the baby with his penis,” Quinn grunts, doubling over. “Just give me the keys and my go bag,” She heaves, breathing deep. “I’ve got a date with an epidural.”

  Flinging open the front door, the four of us shuffle off the porch. “Remember your breathing and stay calm,” Bristol says, coming around to Quinn’s other side. “Evan!” she screams, making both Quinn and I jump. “Get your big ass in the car. It’s baby time!”

  Evan whips around, chucking away the hose he was using to spray down the SUV. “Holy shit.” Rounding the front of the vehicle, he yanks the keys from his pocket, watching Quinn intently. “Does it hurt?”

  “MOTHERFUCKING SHIT fucking fucker!” Quinn screams, squeezing my hand.

  “You’re doing great, babe,” I grunt, trying not to focus on the fact that I play guitar for a living and she’s more than likely about to break one of my fingers.

  “Son of a bitch pain management prick and his bullshit policies,” she huffs, breathing through the contraction. “Too far along for an epidural my ass.”

  By the time we got Quinn to the hospital, we were shocked when they told us she was nearly six centimeters dilated. This meant she had gone past the hospital’s policy for getting an epidural. This set my wife off on a tirade of curses that made me fear for the guy’s life. Along with her threatening to call around to other hospitals in the area to compare policies and birthing plans. Bristol was right there beside Evan and me, helping keep Quinn focused on her breathing, until the nurses came in to start her I.V. line. The moment they started prepping Quinn’s arm, Bristol hit the floor, leaving Evan to hand her unconscious ass off to Tage and Greer in the waiting room.

  Now, after hours of excruciating pain and tears, a lot of which were mine and Evan’s, they are finally having her push. “Okay, Quinn.” The doctor’s head pops up from between her legs, a pair of clear safety glasses covering his face. “We’re almost there.”

  “We?” Quinn seethes, her face contorted into a raging scowl. “I don’t see a tiny person shoving his way out of your vagina. Freakin’ hell. They give morphine tablets anytime a man gets a kidney stone. Ah! Son of a fuck!”

  “There’s the head,” the doc says, hopefully getting ready to catch the baby. I’ve had nightmares the last two weeks that they dropped him, and he bounced across the room like a damn discarded basketball. “One more big push, Quinn.”

  “Come on, Foxy,” E says, grabbing her other hand. “You’ve got one more.”

  “No,” she gasps. Closing her eyes, she shakes her head. “I’m done. Tap me out. One of you two get up in this bed and push.”

  “Doesn’t work like that, baby,” I say, lacing our fingers. “One more time. Last one.”

  “Fuck.” Taking a deep breath, she squeezes our hands and pushes. “Ah!” I scream right along with her, mostly because she’s got a death grip so tight on my hand that I’m damn sure the blood isn’t circulating through my fingers.

  “He’s out.” The doctor announces, handing the baby off to a nurse. Waiting for that first cry, my eyes follow them to the corner where everything is set up. With the nurse’s back to me, I can’t see shit. Seconds feel like forever when nothing happens. Then, just as my heart feels like it might give out, he lets loose an angry as hell wail. “There we go. Healthy lungs on that one.”

  “Oh God.” Falling back against the pillow, Quinn starts to sob. Releasing our hands, she lets hers fall to the bed. “I did that. Holy shit. I did that.”

  “Yes, you did.” Leaning down, I press a kiss to her forehead. “You’re fucking amazing.”

  “Yeah,” Evan agrees, standing up straight. “You were great.”

  “Thanks,” she murmurs, her eyes falling closed. “I’m never doing that again.”

  “Here we go, Momma.” Wrapping him in a blue blanket, the nurse walks over and places him on Quinn’s chest.

  Bringing up her arms, Quinn’s eyes immediately fly open. She blinks several times, looking down at the most perfect little boy I’ve ever seen, wonder written all over her face. Eyes closed, he lays in her arms, completely at peace. His full head of wavy brown hair and chubby cheeks are mostly all we can see without unwrapping him. But you bet your ass I’ll be doing that later to count his fingers and toes at least five or six times to be sure they’re all there.

  “He has your nose,” I say to Quinn, cradling the back of the baby’s head.

  “And your curly hair and dimples,” she says, looking up at me. Her eyes fill with tears again.

  “Oh yeah,” Evan says, grinning from ear to ear. “He’s a Hewitt.”

  Quinn looks his way. “I didn’t mean,” she starts. “They’re still going to do a test so we’re sure.”

  “I’m sure as hell without spendin’ the thousand bucks, Foxy.” Bending down, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Have the test if you need somethin’ sayin’ it in black and white, but if you ask me, it’s clear as day. The baby should be Tanner’s, and there’s no denyin’ who his daddy is.” Walking over, he drops down onto the chair in the corner of the room, stretching out his legs. “Trust me, my feelings aren’t hurt. I’m not disappointed. Honestly, I’m relieved things turned out the way they’re supposed to. No question I would’ve stepped up if it were my baby. No doubt I’ll do anything for you guys. You’re family. You need it, ask. It’s yours. Love your asses; but, honest to God, Quinn, I’m nowhere near ready to be somebody’s dad.” He flashes me a grin. “I’m good with being Uncle E.”

  “Do you have a name picked out?” the nurse asks, holding a clipboard.

  Quinn looks at me, she nods. “Nash.” Looking down at our son, her lips pull into a soft smile. “His name is Nash Hewitt.”

  Lowering the arm on the bed, I hitch my ass onto the side of the bed and slide my arm behind my girl. Her fingers trace Nash’s cheek, his tiny lips puckering as he pouts. “He’s perfect,” Quinn sighs contently. “Just. Fucking. Perfect.”

  “Yeah,” I agree, pressing a kiss to her temple. My heart is fuller than I ever thought it could be. Paying no attention to Evan’s snoring from across the room, or the doctor and nurses working all around us, I stare down at my girl and my son, completely amazed by the fact that this is actually my life.

  The End

  To read how it all began with
Shaft:

  Escaping Me

  Facing Me

  Chasing Me

  Shafting the Halls

  Fighting Me

  Punishing Me

  Also available as: Shafted Box Sets One and Two

  Available on all retailers.

  Acknowledgements:

  Okay...

  Here we go...

  The fun part.

  All righty then, here you are. You’ve made it through the craziness. Congrats and all the thanks goes to you first for taking a chance on my books.

  This series has more of me in it than any other books I have written to date. I’m awkward, unbelievably so. A lot of the things that have happened to the characters in this story, have happened to me in some fashion. It’s been so much fun to turn things around on myself and have a good laugh at my own expense. If you’ve met me, you know I’m loud, nerdy, awkward, inappropriate, and faint when I see blood.

  Anyway...

  The first and loudest shout out is always for you.

  Yes, you.

  Stop looking behind you.

  I’m talking about your fantabulous self. Thank you for buying this book, and hopefully more from me, and enjoying the crazy shit that comes out of my head and is put on the pages of my books. Without you, well this would not be happening. All my love and gratitude goes to you. Yes, YOU! You who support my books, and me, in anyway. The author/blogger/reader/people in general community may have its drama at times, but damn it is a great place to be. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

  Now, on to naming names...

  Asli- You grammatical genius! I adore you. Thank you for all you do to make my words shine. And... for not shanking me when I go rogue and create my own words. Or sprinkle commas like rain. I’m sure that most days the struggle is real.

  My Beautiful Beats- Laura, Jackie, Tina, you ladies have no idea the love I have for you. Thank you for loving my characters and always being there to help me make sure their stories are the best they can possibly be.