by Wyatt, Dani
“I want a baby,” she whispers. “But even if it never happens, let’s never stop trying.” She wiggles her ass as she speaks and my balls tighten, watching her ripe ass move.
“Never, baby. I’ll never stop trying.”
Seconds later we’re moving with each other, our moans and grunts riding the breeze, and we cum hard together. Panting, we come down and I slip out of her as Ginger comes jogging out, looking up at us.
“I think she knows what we’re doing.” Astrid reaches down and scratches her head.
“Of course, she does.” We both look over as Titan, the black chihuahua I got her for a wedding present, comes running out as well, wagging his tail. “She let Titan knock her up.”
Astrid picks up Ginger and rubs her round belly. “Any day now. We are going to be doggie parents. Or grandparents.” She wrinkles her nose at me. “What are we? They’re the parents, so we are...”
“The ones that will pick up the shit and clean up the piss.”
Astrid smacks my shoulder. “You’re so crude. Goes to show you who’s in charge. We pick up after them, we feed them, bathe them...I guess pretty much, they’re the bosses, and we’re just the help.”
I grunt as Astrid sets Ginger back down and Titan runs over to her side, nuzzling against her. They make their way back inside and I pull Astrid into my chest, leaning down to take her sweet lips.
“I love you.” She smiles and it lights up my heart. “I’m glad I didn’t shoot you.”
A low chuckle catches in my throat. “That makes two of us.”
The love I feel for her still surprises me. I need her. She’s my other part, and I am better because we are together. I want to give her everything.
And I’m going to spend the rest of my life doing just that.
15
Astrid
TEN YEARS LATER
Mathias looks disheveled as he comes out the back door of his parents’ house in Palm Springs, carrying Decklan and Maribell on each hip toward where I’m sitting on the edge of the pool.
“They won’t sleep. I read to them, I laid down with them...”
Maribell is tugging on his beard with both her tiny hands, and Decklan is squirming and holding his arms out toward me.
“It’s fine.” Mathias’ dad puts his hands out. “Bring them here. Grandpa will take care of everything.”
“Dad.”
His dad steps to Mathias and Decklan jumps onto him, pointing toward the pool. “You want to go swim?”
Deck nods and claps as Maribell, who we call Maribelly most of the time, squeals in Mathias’ ear, and he squeezes his eyes shut. “Me swim too!” She screams, kicking at Mathias and pulling harder on his beard.
Our family is a mixing bowl of contrast. I’m covered in ten layers of sunblock to keep my near white skin from peeling off. My blonder than blonde hair against Mathias’s flannel and burly darkness is one thing. But each of our kids has their own unique look as well.
We’re our own version of a Brad and Angelina sort of family, when they were still a family that is. We all seem to march to our own drummer, and the looks we get when we are all out together remind us every day of how special each of our children are—and how lucky we all are to have found each other.
“In the pool you go.” I tease my husband, who looks so out of place here in the high desert with the cactuses and palm trees.
His mom, Lydia, has taken our other older three into town for some ice cream and pizza, leaving the two youngest—Deck is just two, and Maribelly three—here with us.
For their naps. Right.
Mathias takes Maribell into the pool house with his Dad, Deck following close behind, to change into their swimsuits and floaties.
I was never able to have children of our own, so after a couple years of trying, doctors and tears, we decided to become foster parents.
We’ve had ten children in our home so far, and now adopted five, and our hearts are so full. It’s been hard, sometimes nearly breaking us. But we know we have love to give, and there’s so many children that need what we have, the heartbreak has been worth it.
We still have four of Titan and Ginger’s puppies, although both Titan and Ginger have crossed the rainbow bridge. Booker and Beverly watch them when we travel. They have twin girls of their own that are going to be eight next month.
The Palm Springs sun beats down and I slip down under the water, feeling the coolness take over, refreshing me. Between all the kids and the constant need Mathias and I have for each other, sleep is in rare supply.
I’m still painting. I ship my pieces all over the world, and galleries across the country wait for my next releases. Photography has become my other passion. Especially capturing all the moments of our lives. The walls at home are covered with photos, and I told Mathias he may have to build an addition just so we can have more wall space.
His wood carving work has done almost as well as my paintings. We are sort of this odd mix of survivalist, bohemian artists living in an Architectural Digest worthy home.
We set up a charity fund to help pay for college for foster children as well. We enjoy the work, and have seen twenty-seven kids graduate from college that probably wouldn’t have had the opportunity otherwise.
Mathias and his dad emerge from the pool house with the kids running and skipping in front of them, as Mathias scolds them about no running around the pool.
I chuckle to myself. Seeing my monster of a man wearing tropical swim trunks, his body covered in his bear-like hair, turns me on as much as it warms my heart.
As the kids scream and jump up and down, waiting to get into the water, Mathias turns to them, pointing a finger as if he’s going to discipline them, then spins around, runs and does a huge cannonball into the deep end, splashing water everywhere and soaking everything within twenty feet.
When he pops up from under the water, he swims to the shallow end, holds his arms out as both the kids follow behind with their own tiny cannonballs, and his dad takes the stairs down into the water. I float over to jump on my husband’s back as the kids scream and laugh.
“You’re the best dad.” I whisper into his ear as he bounces all three of us on his massive body, up and down in the water.
“You’re the best mother. Wife. Friend. Lover. And cookie baking assistant.” He turns and gives me a kiss as Deck and Maribelly make disgusted sounds and try to pull our faces apart.
He’s still baking cookies. In fact, he bakes about ten dozen a week and takes them into town to workers at animal shelters, nursing homes, hospitals...wherever strikes us that someone could use a smile and his cookies are sure to give you a smile.
I think back to that day ten years ago, sitting on that cold boulder by the fire with no idea where my life was headed.
Little did I know, an hour later in some bar in Walkerville, Michigan, the love of my life, my perfect match, my everything, would be there outside the bathroom door.
Then, of course, a few hours later, I almost shot him.
It was the beginning of the perfect love story.
OTHER TITLES BY DANI WYATT
Standalones
Wrangler
Reigning Her In
Sweet Ride
Forging Forever
Just Until Morning
Saddled
Perfect
His to Break
Rough Neck
Parting Glass
What If
The One
Preacher’s Daughter
Hold On
Meet. F*ck. Done. – CAN’T WAIT
Keeping Her Close
Back to Her
Let Go
Our Turn – Can’t Wait Bundle
Our Turn Standalone
Love, Daddy
Mastering Her Heart
HIS Rules
Goodgirls Say Please
Kiss Me Goodnight
Yes, Daddy
Men of the Woods
Hard Cut
Deep Cut
Rough Cut
Paranormal
Vamp
Holidays
Night Before
Valentine's Rose
Baby It’s Cold Outside
Her First Noel
His Resolution
The Forever Collection
Where She Belongs
When She’s Mine
Promise Duet
Promise
Cherish
Southside MMA Series
Force
Push
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About Dani
Dani Wyatt used to feel bad about having such dirty thoughts. Luckily, one day, she decided to start writing them down. Her ultra-obsessed, alpha heroes have a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Her heroines are intelligent, quirky, and worry about having too much muffin top. So, if you like your insta-love over the top, super-hot, with a little more plot and always a happily ever after, you’re in the right place.
She’s fighting middle age like a warrior and lives an average life battling gravity. When she's not writing, she is probably laughing about some irony (like the fact that A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), reading, riding her horse, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.
Thank You.
I have so many amazing people I’ve met since I started putting my
naughty thoughts on the page. To some of the first fans who supported me, the bloggers,
fellow authors who have been more than generous with their
time and opinions, as well as the other professionals that
put up with my particular kind of crazy, thank you.
...you guys remind me every day that when we support each other, everyone wins.
xoxoxo