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Thank you for reading book 2 of the Stricken Rock series. Stay tuned for Emily’s big happily ever after coming in book 4.
Next in the series Stricken Trust- Now Available.
TRUST
-Book Three-
Chapter One
Where have the past seven weeks gone? Right now, I’m sitting in the most beautiful place in the entire world with the best man in the entire world. Soon to be the two best men in the entire world. Then three. It’s been a super busy seven weeks. Lots of fun and exciting things have happened — both very good and some bad. When it comes to Johnathan, there’s always good with the bad. It goes hand in hand. Like peanut butter and jelly. Wow, that sounds good right now. I might just have to get off this couch and make myself some food.
Anyhow, all the concerts were finished in LA and San Diego. Neither of which I attended. They were fantastic, according to the internet reviews and the band themselves. They went off without a hitch and Stricken and Ice the Monkey rocked it hard. James and I stayed out of the spot light. The paparazzi and media didn’t tame down the first week following the breaking news of me being the mom of Johnathan Striker’s babies. The twin’s part kind of hyped up the event and apparently they found out about my medical condition. And the babies went from exciting to divine, after my percent of conception was publicized. Calling them the miracle babies. It’s all over the internet including multiple Facebook and twitter pages popping up as fans of the ‘Stricken’s Divine Children’ or ‘Johnathan’s Miracle Babies.’ It goes to show, some people are just nuts. I’m not dogging that my babies— who are now twenty weeks into baking in my oven and the size of artichokes—aren’t miracles. They are to me and the rest of our family. But the rest of the world seems to think our life is theirs. And thanks to Ashley, I have no privacy. I walk out of my house; I’m stalked. I go to the grocery store; I’m stalked. You name it; I’m stalked.
I was at Ralph’s grocery store two weeks ago and I was spotted by a pregnant lady. She ran me down and asked me to sign her belly. Me, Emily Bronwyn, twenty-four year old Aquarius, pregnant with twins due March twenty-ninth. I have nothing special about me. I’m a normal girl who grew up in a small town in Indiana. But apparently I’m famous because Johnathan is, and our children are by association. So I’m a triple threat in the popularity department.
The worst part other than the constant stalking is the photos that show up on the internet and magazines of me. I’m short and I’m carrying twins and now that I’m twenty weeks, I look like a cow. I have stretch marks but they are being tamed thanks to wonderful James who has been helping me apply tubs of cocoa butter daily. Most women at this stage look all cute with normal sizes bellies. Yeah, not me. When I had my near twenty week checkup four days ago, I was measuring twenty eight weeks along. I’m huge and I’m all belly and my boobs have grown. And I have no idea what the hell I was complaining about when I was first pregnant about peeing and eating because it has multiplied times a hundred since. Especially craving the salty foods part. And I know this sounds gross, but even come sounds good. It’s salty and it’s warm and I can remember Johnathan’s like it was yesterday. But it wasn’t yesterday; it was eight weeks ago? I think.
Plus my sex drive went from a little before pregnancy, then bumped up a lot after. And now I’m on super power drive and B.O.B just isn’t cutting it. I’ve tried everything to stop it. I’ve tried lavender bath salts in the tub to relax me, no masturbating, overly masturbating, reading unsexy books about war and famine. I’ve ate this and that. And the worst is my nipples are swollen and they graze my bra or my shirts or anything I wear and that turns me on. The pain from them is hot and tingly and for some unknown reason my body loves it. It also loves jeans rubbing my clit too. I was walking into my doctor’s office with Stacy at my eighteen week checkup wearing maternity pants that I forced myself to buy. And I orgasmed walking back to the exam room. I had to stop, grab my belly, brace myself against the wall, and it just shot off. I bit my lips so I didn’t moan but Jesus it was one of the most embarrassing days of my entire life. So I now stick to dresses and soft pants. Nothing with a ridge between the crotch.
When I first moved in with James, I was self-conscious about my self-pleasuring. Now I could care less. According to Trisha, my doctor, I’ve gained twelve pounds so far. Which is good I suppose. I’ve begged to be put on some kind of anti-horny drug. But apparently there is nothing. She actually finds it comical that I’m one of her horniest patients. Claire’s not around and hasn’t been for the past seven weeks. She’s upped her stay in New York to ten weeks because her partner Paul Waits has been preoccupied and the work load has tripled. We talk all the time on the phone and I’ve Skyped with her a few times. But it’s not the same. Anna is truly missing Claire. Especially now. And yes if you are wondering, I have sent pictures of Anna to Claire. What can I say? I want to keep my girlfriend happy. Even if I’m utterly miserable. I love being pregnant mostly, it’s the insatiable part that I hate. Okay, enough of that. I’m horny just thinking about it.
Johnathan has been getting his act together from what I hear. We text occasionally and I’m kind of surprised to say I’m not missing him as much as I thought I would. I know that sounds terrible. But I think it has part to do with the fact I am completely happy with my friendships in life. The drama is down, except for the constant string of stalking. James helps with that and if he wasn’t in my life I honesty would be lost. He and Stacy, who I’m now best friends with again, are my rocks, my everything, in life. I care for Claire, but she’s been busy with work and I’ve been busy helping Stacy get more band things completed from behind the scenes. Stricken has done a photo shoot with Big Boy Condom Company and a commercial. They’re also writing a new CD. Apparently Johnathan writes songs and so does D. Both of which I had no clue they did.
According to James, Johnathan is attempting to clean up his act and when I’ve talked to Johnathan personally he’s told me about attending A.A twice a week, going to a counselor twice a week and he’s also been attempting the abstinence thing. It’s back fired three times according to him. Which I guess three different times in seven weeks isn’t so bad. None of them have been with me. I’m here for moral support but when we talk it’s strictly friends and baby chatter. I’ve seen him only once in person and that was at the sixteen week baby reveal ultrasound. Which People Magazine paid me a butt load of money to allow them to shoot. Stacy, James, Johnathan and I all attended. It was so exciting. And the grand finale is that we are having twins of both genders. Baby A is a girl and baby B is a boy. Which I am stoked about. I would be happy with any genders. I just hit the jackpot and will be a mommy of a boy and a girl. Both of which are healthy and growing perfectly. Unlike their mommy who feels like a pregnant cow.
So now I am sitting here in the living room of my home for the next two weeks. After the gender reveal and the other two doctors’ appointments since, I am taking my much needed vacation. Things have died down with the band. They are engrossed in working on the album so Rita can take over. And after much deliberation, James and I are sitting in a beautiful log cabin in Colorado in the first weeks of November and it’s brisk but beautiful. We’re far enough off the beaten path that we can’t be bothered and close enough that if I need a doctor, I can reach one. Dr. Golds gave me the go ahead to fly here and go three weeks between our next doctor’s appointment. Although she did offer if I needed anything, she’d fly out. Seems as though after finding out the babies in my belly are Stricken’s lead singers, she’s been even more accommodating, if that’s possible. She’s pretty great as it is.
We got into the airport this morning. James rented us another suburban and now he’s taking a nap and I’m resting my feet up in the cabin. This place is huge. Four bedrooms, three and half baths, two stories, all log cabin with a giant open kitchen with island. A wall of all windows. A game room. A cinema room and a bunch of other amenities. Plus, we are very close to a pond and some walking and hiking tra
ils. It’s beautiful here. The outside has a giant wrap around porch with rocking chairs. I’m in rustic heaven and I know James is at peace. It’s like our bedroom back at home in our condo. Yes, I say our condo. I’ve lived with him nearly two months and we’ve slept in the same bed since the first night. It’s cozy and my Teddy Bear soothes me. There’s no sex. Not even a taste or a touch or anything. Apparently James doesn’t do sex AT ALL. And he won’t talk about it. I’ve tried.
In two days this cabin will be filled with more laughter and love. Stacy is coming to stay with us for a week and he’s bringing his boyfriend Kyle. Yep, it’s about damn time. He and Kyle are officially together. After our short fallout and reconnection, I convinced Stace to call Kyle. Who lives in Orange County not far from LA. Totally workable for their relationship. I think it’s been hot and heavy ever since. Going on nearly a month, I believe, in the relationship department. And Stacy hasn’t been complaining at all about not fucking women. Which I guess is a good thing. I kind of figured Stacy would get over the bi thing sooner or later and fall into homosexuality completely. Which I couldn’t be happier about. And as it seems neither can he.
Go figure.
Overall, my life’s stresses are down thanks to my Johnathan separation. I’m not going to lie; I do miss him some and yes I do love him. But like I said, he’s on the right track in his life and I hope it continues down that road. No matter what, he’s going to be in my life and I’m going to be a mom. That’s all that matters. And the next two weeks, I’m going to snuggle with my Stacy, and my Teddy Bear James. We’re going to relax, play games, I’m going to take a hundred baths in our whirlpool tub and I’m going to cook like a mad woman for the two most important men in my life, aside from Johnathan.
Chapter Two
“Hey Em, wake up. Emily, please wake up,” I hear the most wonderful voice say.
I open my eyes.
“Hi, James.” I smile at him sleepily. Apparently, I fell asleep on this giant dark brown leather couch in the living room.
“We need to get groceries for our stay. Do you want to go with me to the store down the hill? Or do you want to stay here and cuddle on this couch?” He sits on the coffee table close to me, in a green long sleeve T that’s rolled up his forearms and a pair of khaki cargos, with his boots and guns strapped to his chest. He reaches out his hand and tucks my red hair out of my face. He’s adorable.
I grab his hand before it leaves my vicinity and rub it against my face. It’s so warm. “I’ll go, my cuddle buddy, I just have to change my clothes.”
I squeeze my legs together. Son of a bitch! This pussy thing is killing me. I lean up and peer down to my crotch. Yep, I hate that bitch. I can’t see her anymore unless I look in mirror, my fat belly is in the way. But I’m going to have to masturbate before we leave. I hate this!
“I uh…. You know.” I shrug, sitting the rest of the way up. Giving him back his hand.
“I figured,” he says shrugging it off, like it’s no big thing.
It is to me. But it appears he’s so used to it by now. Mr. Monk, I don’t even think he masturbates himself. I’ve never asked and I’ve never caught him. He has no dirty magazines and his phone and laptop are clean. I know; I checked. Not because I cared if he was a bad boy. I just hoped I wasn’t the only pervert in the house. Apparently, I am. I have the sex drive of a sixteen year old boy juiced up and he has the sex drive of an eighty year old woman. Although, I know he gets boners. It’s confusing, but I know him well enough to know he won’t talk about it.
I’ve tried to talk to James into online dating, he refuses. I’ve tried to set him up with a friend of Stacy’s. He won’t even consider it. I know his last serious girlfriend was five years ago right before he started working for Stricken. I also know that he’s had four longer term relationships in his life and he’s forty three. Only one relationship since he’s been out of the military. He had a girl when he was nineteen, he dated her for a year, I think. Another when he was twenty six. The bitch one about the stinky feet which was twelve years ago and then the one from five years ago which lasted six months. He’s a forever bachelor. Which is stupid as hell. I’ve also said that to him about a hundred times. Honestly, he would make the best boyfriend for a woman. Except for the lack of sex.
“Um… Emily? Are you going to go up and get your business over with so we can go? I can go by myself. I know traveling takes a lot out of a person. Especially a mommy.”
Shit, I zoned out again.
I scoot to the edge of the couch. If I sit my back against the back of this couch my feet couldn’t touch the floor even if I tried. It’s big and I’m too short. James also scoots forward on the coffee table and his knees are touching mine. He reaches out and touches the babies. He touches them a lot actually. I think he likes them better than me. Not that I blame him. They’re the reason he’s my bodyguard. If they weren’t baking in my belly, I wouldn’t need him for protection. I’d still need him in my life as a friend. But the protection part would be null and void.
He leans over. “Hello little ones, it’s me again. I hope you are having fun in mommy today. She just took a nap. I can’t wait to start feeling you both very soon,” he says, rubbing gentle circles with his big hand. It feels nice on my skin and like every time he does it, my pussy swells. It’s not him, it’s the touching. Every time we cuddle, I get turned on. Every time I take a shower or a bath or remove my bra. The only person who doesn’t turn me on is Stacy. He touches me and I’m fine. Why? I have no flipping idea.
I pat him on the head and he sits up and removes his hand. “Give me five. It won’t take long,” I comment, getting up and making my way like a penguin up the stairs to the bedroom. There are four bedrooms and we decided to shack up anyhow. I think we like the closeness. It keeps the loneliness bug at bay.
I haven’t unpacked yet, so I unzip my red roller that’s on the floor by the closet and grab my black long sleeved cotton dress and a new pair of panties. I have to change them all the time. It’s stupid, really. I go into the bathroom and disrobe out of my yoga pants and long sleeved T. Sitting on the edge of the whirlpool tub, I slide down my panties.
Fuck I’m hot. I reach under my belly and rest my hands on my mound. I touch my clit and jump. Damn, that’s sensitive! I rub it in little shallow circles, throwing my head back and moaning into the air. Shit, this is good! I hump into my finger and yep, I’m ready. Oh yes! I buck my hips and I come hard. My body jerking. Damn! That was good. What did that take? Thirty seconds?
I stand, throw on my dress, and clean boy short panties. I own mostly boy shorts, now. I love them and they fit very well since I’m pregnant. I slide on a pair of black flats with cute rhinestones on the top. I check myself in the mirror. No makeup. I don’t need it to go shopping and who do I have to impress? Nobody. I hit the stairs and meet James down by the front door.
“That was fast,” he comments.
I shrug, my nose bunching. “Yep, now let’s go get our food on.”
Tucking my arm into his, we exit the cabin to go to the store.
Chapter Three
“What movie do you want to watch?” I call to James. He’s standing in the rustic cabin kitchen. It maybe rustic, but it looks like it cost eighty grand. It’s that nice. Dark granite countertops, worn cabinets, dish washer, stainless steel built in fridge, counter top range and double wall oven. And it comes fully stocked with pots and pans. All you’d ever need to live. The island has big wooden stools with no backs and there’s eight of them. This place can sleep, I think twenty between all the bedrooms and couches. Although I think it’s perfect at about eight to ten guests.
“I don’t care, whatever you want,” he calls from the kitchen.
“Don’t play that with me mister,” I tease, watching him eat a snickers bar, leaning against the kitchen cupboards. I think we should own stock in Snickers bars. He loves them that much. At home we have drawer full of candy, mostly Snickers and my Mexican, chili mango suckers.
“
I’m going to go upstairs and change, Em, you decide whatever you want. I’ll be back down in a bit,” he says, feeding the last bite into his mouth. He’s a mix between barbarian and gentleman when he eats. It’s cute.
Stacy is all barbarian with no manners. I think Stacy views napkins and silverware as a luxury when he eats. His hands are his most used utensil, even eating salad. He picks out the good stuff and then he uses a fork with the lettuce. He’s a weirdo. I wonder if that drives Kyle nuts as much as it does me.
I wave him off and he goes up stairs to I assume throw on his pj’s.
I pull out my cell and realize I haven’t spoken to my girlfriend is nearly two days. Reception here is dodgy. I only hope the texts can come and go. And I should just forget about trying to actually call out on the phone. The mountains are beautiful and serene but a bitch to get one service bar in. Internet works great though. Thankfully I brought my nook and laptop.
Me- Hey Claire just thought I’d let you know we got into Colorado okay. Hope you’re going well. Kicking butt and taking names. Xoxoxoxo.
I drop my phone back down on the side table in the living room. This room is to die for. Two big dark brown leather couches, a rustic rectangular coffee table and matching end tables. There’s a huge rug that finishes the sitting space, its hunter green and cream. The side lamps are thick iron with big green shades. A giant plasma TV is above the mantle on the floor to ceiling corner stone fireplace. That’s gas burning, not real wood. The ceilings in the living room or what I’d call a great room are two story, all the way up with giant windows to let all the beautiful light in. I love this place. At night, I bet the stars up here are magnificent. All the flooring on the main level is hardwood and polished to a meticulous buttery sheen. Upstairs, it’s carpeted — but it’s the expensive kind with a tight weave. Nothing in this cabin is substandard. From the bronze faucets in the bathrooms to the All-Clad pots and pans in the kitchen, it all screams luxury.
Stricken Rock Series: Complete Box Set Page 49