Vegas, Baby: Complete Series

by Fiona Davenport

  Six hours later, my exhausted wife cuddled our little boy in her arms and beamed up at me. “We did good.”

  I was still in awe of her and shook my head. “You were incredible, angel eyes. I just stood there and watched.”

  A sly smile slipped across her face as she looked up at me. “Still think I earned those spankings?”

  I chuckled and gave her a soft kiss on the lips before brushing my mouth over the top of my son’s fuzzy little head. “After watching you give birth, I’m not sure there is anything you could do to earn a pink handprint on your ass.”

  Angelique giggled, and her eyes gleamed devilishly as she winked. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

  Epilogue

  Angelique

  “Nope. No way.” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “My precious baby boy isn’t going to do a sport where the whole point is for someone else to try to beat him up.”

  My gorgeous hubby met my glare with a grin, tugging me close and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “You’re so fucking cute when you go all mama bear over the kids.”

  “Don’t even try to charm me into changing my mind,” I warned as I wagged my finger at him.

  He nipped the tip with his teeth, sending a shiver down my spine. “Would I try to do a thing like that?”

  “Absolutely,” I grumbled, narrowing my eyes. His grin widened because he knew darn well that he could charm me into almost anything. With the way I reacted to him, it didn’t take much effort on his part, either. Just his brief kiss and smile had me second-guessing myself already. “But I managed to withstand the puppy dog eyes Marcus flashed my way when he came home talking about karate lessons. That should tell you how against the idea I am since he has me wrapped around his little finger. He’s like his daddy, nearly impossible for me to resist.”

  “Nearly impossible, huh?” He slid his hands down my back to cup my butt cheeks as he pressed his hard-on against my core. “Maybe I need to test how strong your willpower truly is by devouring your little—”

  I slapped my hand over his mouth to stop the flow of words, my eyes darting over to the other side of the room where our toddler, Aria, was showing her big brother her newest dolly. We bought it while we were at the mall having girl time. We’d had a great day...up until the moment Saint and Marcus returned from their boy time, and my son chattered nonstop about the karate lessons he wanted to take. I wasn’t surprised he was interested in them since he was a mini-me version of his daddy, but I thought I’d have more time before something like this came up. He was only four, way too young in my mind for him to be taking martial arts lessons. “He must be even more excited than I thought if you’re already bringing out the big guns to try to talk me into karate.”

  “Maybe I just wanted to remind you how big my gun is since we were interrupted before I had the chance to use it this morning,” he grumbled.

  “Daddy has a gun?” Marcus shrieked, running over to us. “Can I see it? Have you ever shot someone?”

  “No, he doesn’t have a gun,” I corrected, bending low to pick Aria up when she trailed him.

  She had her new doll cradled in her arms, but as soon as she noticed I was standing next to her daddy, Aria dropped it like a hotcake and reached for him. “Daddy!”

  Saint caught her as she leaped into his arms, and he swung her around in a circle. My lips curved up in a smile as her giggles echoed around the living room.

  “Why did Daddy say he had a big gun?” Marcus asked with a pout, tugging on my pants to get my attention.

  “It’s a figure of speech,” I explained. “He was talking about something else and used ‘big gun’ as a metaphor.”

  Marcus’s little nose scrunched up as he considered what I’d said. “What’s a meatyfour?”

  Saint shifted his hold on Aria to flex his arm. “It’s when you use a different word to describe something, like when someone calls their biceps the big guns.”

  “Oh!” Our son nodded, and a lock of his thick, dark hair fell on his forehead. “I get it!”

  “Me,” Aria garbled, mimicking her brother’s head movement.

  She didn’t like to be left out of anything, which gave me an idea that might just get Saint on my side. “How young can the students be at the karate place you guys found?”

  “Marcus would be in their toddler program for now, with the two- to four-year-olds. It’ll give him a chance to learn the ropes before he moves on to the children’s class,” Saint explained.

  “Two?” I echoed with a mischievous grin.

  “Yes,” he drawled, setting Aria on the floor as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”

  I waited until Aria toddled off to the toy box on the other side of the room with Marcus at her side. “I think we should sign both of them up for the class. Together.”

  “Both of them?” His dark gaze slid to our daughter, and he emphatically shook his head. “No fu—reaking way is my little princess taking karate.”

  I quirked a brow at him. “But it’s fine for my precious baby boy to do it?”

  “Crap, you’ve got me there,” he groaned, making me giggle because even after four years, I wasn’t used to his semi-cleaned up language. He pulled me close and conceded, “If you’re really against the karate lessons, we can talk to Marcus together and let him down gently.”

  I loved how Saint was willing to see my side of things as much as I hated disappointing Marcus. I glanced over at him and thought about how excited he’d been when he was telling me about the class they’d watched this afternoon. “I guess if the karate is for toddlers, it can’t be too bad.”

  “The kids were cute as hell in their little uniforms.” He tugged me into his embrace, my back pressed to his chest and his chin resting on the top of my head as we watched our children play together. “I think you’ll be surprised by how the classes go. The kids run through extremely basic kata, and there’s no physical contact among the students. They’re nothing like my matches, more of a Matchbox car compared to a semitruck.”

  “Go ahead and sign Marcus up, and I’ll look for a tumbling class or something so Aria won't feel left out,” I offered as I rubbed my thighs together, remembering how turned on I got whenever I watched him fight.

  “Thanks, angel eyes. You’re such a good mom,” he murmured against my ear. His hot breath sent a shiver down my spine that intensified at the heat in his tone when he added, “I think you need another baby, and I’m going to use my big gun to give you one tonight.”

  He followed through on that promise...times two.

  Extra Epilogue

  Angelique

  “Why does everyone always want to rub my belly?” I grumbled, glaring at the back of the mom who’d gasped when I’d slapped her hand away. She was offended enough to bypass her usual spot and move all the way to the other side of the mat. That was fine by me because her new location made it harder for her to ogle my hubby. Too many of the single moms at these practices treated the dojo like a meat market instead of paying attention to their kids. Not that Saint ever noticed. His focus was always on the kids and me. “It’s not as though that woman has said more than a few words to me in passing before now, but she still thought it was totally okay to touch my stomach. And it’s all your fault.”

  Saint’s brows drew together, and a wrinkle popped up in the middle of his forehead. “How is it all my fault? I didn’t tell the woman she could touch you, and I never would. My hands are the only ones that are supposed to be on you.”

  His flash of jealousy made me shiver, but I refused to allow my drenched panties to distract me from my point. Rubbing my hands over my belly, I explained, “Because I’m freakishly large after you put two freaking huge babies in me.”

  “Wrong. You’re fucking perfect, angel eyes,” he corrected.

  I jabbed him in the side with my elbow and jerked my chin toward all the kids going through a kata only a few feet in front of us. “Watch your language, big guy. There are too many little ear
s around, and lots of parents who won’t be thrilled if their children end up with potty mouths like I’m sure ours will.”

  “My little princess would never swear.” He beamed a smile Aria’s way as she mirrored her big brother’s movements. She was so freaking cute in her little white uniform, with her tiny nose scrunched up while she concentrated.

  “I’m not so sure about that. She mimics everything Marcus does, which is why she refused to go to the ballet class I signed her up for and begged you to do karate until you finally caved.” I bumped my shoulder against his arm. “And my baby boy is your mini-me. Eventually, he’s going to repeat something you’ve said in front of Aria. Then she’s going to do the same in front of her little karate friends. And I’m going to hand the phone over to you when someone calls to complain.”

  He flashed me a grin that would’ve made my ovaries explode if I wasn’t already pregnant with twins. “I’m an MMA champion, angel eyes. None of the dads are going to give me too much crap. They’d be too afraid to see me here later.”

  Thinking about how the moms would quickly switch from anger to flirtation, I mumbled, “Whatever.”

  Saint wrapped his arm around me, and I felt his chest shake as he chuckled. We stayed cuddled together until the Sensei finished leading the kids through the rest of their katas. When he called Marcus forward, I pulled out my cell phone to snap a bunch of pictures. My baby boy’s chest was all puffed up when the Sensei announced that he was moving up to the class for the five- to seven-year-olds.

  “I can’t believe he’s five already,” I sniffled as I shoved my phone back in my purse. “That means karate with the older kids next week and kindergarten next month.”

  Saint reached over to pat my belly. “And two more little boys for you to fuss over the month after that.”

  The Sensei dismissed class, and Marcus and Aria came running toward us. Our daughter threw herself into her daddy’s arms, while her brother stumbled to a stop in front of me and pointed at the belt tied around his waist. “Did you see? Sensei said I earned my yellow belt!”

  “Of course, I saw. I got pictures of your promotion, too,” I assured him with a smile.

  Marcus threw a fist in the air in triumph, but his sister wasn’t as happy with how their karate class had ended. Aria’s bottom lip trembled, and two fat teardrops rolled down her chubby cheeks. “What’s wrong, princess?”

  “I wanna do karate with Marcwus,” she mumbled against his chest.

  “It’s okay, Aria.” Marcus patted his sister’s back, and she twisted around to look at him. “You’ll still kick butt in your class without me.”

  “Yeah, I kick butt,” she agreed with a nod, beaming a smile at her brother.

  I side-eyed my gorgeous husband and mouthed, “See? Potty mouth.”

  Getting to his feet with our little girl wrapped in his arms, Saint mouthed back, “Not my fault. I would’ve said ass instead.”

  My cheeks heated as I realized that my precious baby boy must’ve picked the phrase up from me. Barely holding back a giggle, I gasped, “Oops.”

  Extra Extra Epilogue

  Angelique

  “I can’t believe you talked me into this,” I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest as I glared at my husband.

  “You can’t be that surprised.” He chuckled and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, his breath hot against my ear as he whispered, “All I’d need to do is get my mouth on your tight little pussy and you’d agree to just about anything.”

  He was right, but I wasn’t going to admit to it while I was still miffed at him. “Those karate lessons were like a gateway drug to the harder stuff.”

  He pressed a kiss against my temple. “C’mon, angel eyes. Don’t be like that. Marcus is only doing a little mixed martial arts.”

  “And he already got a black eye from it,” I muttered with a frown. “You’re just lucky Aria lost interest in karate and didn’t want to follow her big brother into these classes.”

  “Yeah, that would’ve been a problem.” His shoulders shook as he chuckled again. “The boys in her group at karate had a hard enough time when she kicked their asses. Can you imagine how these kids would have reacted when she picked up Brazilian Jiu Jitsu and Muay Thai Kickboxing faster than them?”

  I fought hard to bite back my laughter, but a giggle slipped out. Relaxing into his side, I sighed and accepted defeat. Nothing I said or did was going to change what was about to happen. “Yeah, that wouldn’t have gone over well.”

  “But it sure as hell would’ve happened because my baby girl takes after me,” he bragged, his lips curving into a smile.

  “Unfortunately, so do Marcus and the twins.” I jerked my chin toward the mat where our oldest son was stretching. “Which is how we ended up here. You’re an MMA champ, and he wants to follow in your footsteps.”

  “Maybe Ferris and Flint will switch to something safer like Aria did.” He gave me a reassuring squeeze as the teacher motioned Marcus to face off against another boy for a sparring session. I spent as much time with my eyes shut as I did watching. It was hard to see my son get hit, but I didn’t want him to ever feel like I didn’t support his goals, so I always sat in the front row right next to Michael.

  “Is it over?” I peeked between my fingers and saw that Marcus was shaking his opponent’s hand.

  Michael nodded. “Yup, and he won. Executed a perfect double-leg takedown that the other guy didn’t see coming.”

  “You taught him that move.” I bumped his side with my shoulder and smiled.

  “Damn straight,” he muttered.

  I glanced at the other parents in our row, mostly dads, and noticed a couple sneaking looks at my husband. I’d heard most of them use the same kind of language he did, so I was pretty sure that they weren’t paying attention to him because he used a couple curse words. It wasn’t as though he’d dropped the F-bomb, and we were in a teenage level class. “Don’t be surprised if someone accuses Marcus of having an unfair advantage.”

  “Let them.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “If they can’t handle their sons getting beat, they shouldn’t have signed them up for MMA.”

  “That’s easy for you to say. In ten years of karate, Marcus never lost a sparring or competitive match.” Something our son had reminded me of endlessly until I finally caved on the MMA classes.

  “The day will eventually come when he faces off against a fighter who’s better than him. It happens to all of us.”

  I laughed and rolled my eyes. “Sure it does, champ. In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never lost.”

  “But I did, angel eyes.” His dark eyes were full of love as he winked at me. “I lost my heart the first time I saw you.”

  “Aww,” I sighed, leaning close to whisper, “You’re so getting lucky later.”

  He rubbed his thumb over my rings before lacing his fingers through mine. “I’ve been the luckiest man alive ever since I carried you away after kicking your brother’s ass. When the day comes that some guy manages to take my championship belt, they’re more than welcome to it. I’ll still have you, and that’s what really matters.”

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  About the Author

  The writing duo of Elle Christensen and Rochelle Paige team up under the Fiona Davenport pen name to bring you sexy, insta-love stories filled with alpha males. If you want a quick & dirty read with a guaranteed happily ever after, then give Fiona Davenport a try!

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