by Fields, MJ
God, those eyes. Extremely telling. Almost black and hooded when he was in sexy fiend mode. Bright and vibrant as he looked at those he loved. Unreadable by most when pensive. Unwavering when focused.
I lean back against him. He has a washcloth in one hand, pulling out some toilet paper with the other and has it inches from my nose.
“Don’t do it,” I warn.
“Do what?” he asks, now wiping just under my nose.
“That. Don’t do that,” I grumble, pushing his hand way then leaning forward, resting my head on my arm now slung over the lip of the toilet seat.
“Got it,” he says, pulling my hair back. “Now, do me a favor and don’t do that.”
“Do what?” I sigh.
“Tell me not to take care of what’s mine.”
I drop my arm and lean forward, resting my head on the seat.
“Let’s hit the sink. Your head is on the toilet seat.”
“I’m throwing up,” I groan as he pulls me up.
“Then do it in the sink,” he suggests, or demands. Either way, I am in no way going to argue.
Leaning my head on the side of the marble countertop, he lifts my head and pushes a towel under it.
It’s soft and much more comfortable than the hard toilet seat.
“You good?” he asks, turning on the sink as he looks down at me while wetting a washcloth.
“I’m good,” I answer.
He sets the cool cloth on my head then walks away. I hear the toilet flush before he walks out of the bathroom.
After a few minutes, I feel well enough to stand, so I start the shower and undress.
Under the warm water, I stand with my head back. I don’t even have to turn to get my entire body wet. There is a rainfall head over me, four jets behind me, and four more coming from the opposite direction.
I love this shower. Not only will it basically wash my entire body for me, but it’s plenty large enough for two of me and one, huge, tree-sized man, my fiancé, Gage Falcon.
When we met just a few months ago, I would have sooner shoved him off a cliff than look at him. Now, even though I am a little intimidated by heights, I would jump off a cliff with him. Because, that man, that tree-sized, inked, god of a man, is so much more than I, Phoenix Star, hater of all male whores on the planet, could have ever imagined the man I would fall for. Because he, he is perfect for me. And I, I am perfect for him.
When I walk out of the bathroom in my white terrycloth robe, I find him sitting on the end of the bed, trying to hide a smirk that is clearly creeping up his beautiful face until it turns into a beaming smile.
“You’re goddamned beautiful, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told,” I reply, looking at the bed, our bed that is now covered in clean sheets and a quilt.
When I look back at him, I can’t help smiling. “Thank you.”
His eyes rake down my body, and then slowly up it again, penetrating me without even a touch. “I put you in this situation selfishly.” He smirks. “You bet your ass I’ll take care of you, because I need to make sure, when this one is born, you’re ready to do it again.”
“Easy, tiger,” I sigh.
“Life will be … for you, for me, for our dozen or so kids.” He winks.
“You’re crazy,” I say, forcing a laugh. He’s not freaking crazy, or at least he thinks he’s not.
Gage wants to have lots and lots of babies. I want to give him as many as I can, but I don’t want to lose my damn mind in the process.
“No, babe.” He reaches out and takes my hand. “I’m just gonna make sure I keep you so busy and surrounded by love that you can never imagine leaving.”
“Is that what you think it’ll take to keep me?” I ask, somewhat astonished.
He pulls me closer and leans down, kissing my neck. “You feeling okay?” he whispers, and I nod in response. Then he pulls my up so I’m straddling him. “This will keep you,” he says, rolling his hips so I feel his erection which, hello, I already felt it the second I was above him. Then he takes my hand and holds it over his heart. “And this will make you stay forever.”
And I fall even deeper.
“It’s all ruined!” My mother’s voice, like nails on a chalkboard, tears at my ears.
I push myself up off the floor, sit on my bed, grab my headphones, and turn on the music to drown her out. “Black” by Derik’s Bentley plays on repeat as I think of all the reasons it’s not ruined. He’s still mine, and I’m still his.
I look at the messages I have missed and see his name.
Gage: You all good?
Phoenix: I’m all good.
I wake to her voice. “You can’t go in there! It’s bad luck.”
“With all due respect, Mrs. Star, luck has not a damn thing to do with it.”
I sit up as my door opens, and he’s here, my man tree, my fiancé, my world.
“You ready to go home?” he asks, walking over to me.
I look up at him, trying not to smile, but fail. “Yeah, take me home.”
“We have too much to do…This is not okay...There will be no wedding in two days if you leave...”
Looking up at Gage, I see his eyes are calm, his lip curled slightly, bringing me to a place of peace. His hand holding mine is all the comforting I need.
Then...then he stops and turns toward my mother. “Wedding location’s been changed. Gonna get married at the Landing—”
“But—”
“We’ll see you tomorrow,” he cuts her off. “My future wife looks like she could use some rest.”
“All her stuff is here. This isn’t the wedding of her dreams,” my mom says in less a screech and more a plea.
“She’s good, I’m good, we’re all good.” He winks at her, and her mouth snaps shut.
I bite my lip to hold back the laugh.
“I can grab her dress—”
She immediately barks, “No! We’ll bring it. Go, just go.”
He nods and turns, giving my hand a squeeze as he walks us out of hell—I mean, home.
Once in the SUV, he looks at me, and I can’t help laughing. He smiles.
“Missed you,” he says, taking my hand and holding it up to his lips, placing a kiss on it.
“Not nearly as much as I missed you,” I say in an exasperated tone.
He smirks. “You win.”
“It wasn’t an argument.” I smile. “I’ve only been here two days, Gage—two—and I nearly lost my mind.”
“Well, let’s get you home where you belong,” he says, releasing my hand to start the vehicle.
Where I belong, I think as I look at him, the man who, just a couple months ago, was someone I despised yet desired, who is now someone I know without a doubt I can’t go a day without seeing.
He pulls out of the driveway and glances over as he takes my hand. “What?”
“You,” I say on a sigh as I lean back in the plush leather seat and close my eyes.
“You,” he whispers then kisses my hand again.
“Us,” I say, shaking my head.
“Yeah, squirt, I know,” he says then lets out a held breath slowly.
At the red light, he runs his hands through his hair and sucks in a deep breath before releasing it. I see his eyes crinkle in the corner below his shades and know he’s in deep thought.
I squeeze his hand. “What?”
He takes our linked hands, kisses the back of mine, and then holds it against his heart. “Fucking love you.”
“I know.”
After a few minutes of silence, where I know he’s doing the same thing I’ve done a hundred times, wondering how, how the hell does it happen.
How does love happen?
How, when you aren’t in the market for it, does it just come out of nowhere and hit you so hard you’re so sure it’s going to shatter you into a million pieces?
But it doesn’t.
“There’s no way to make any sense of it, Gage. I’ve tried.” I squeeze his hand.
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Care to explain?” His tone carries a little more grit.
“I’m logical. Things need to make sense. That’s why I went in the total opposite direction with college. I wanted to understand people more. So, yes, I have tried a million times to figure us out.”
“A million?” he asks, almost shocked.
“Maybe more,” I only half-joke. He looks over at me, eyebrow raised behind his shades, so I clarify. “From the very first time I saw you until, well, until Mags fell.”
He visibly relaxes.
“Don’t fight the fall,” I whisper Mags’ words to me, and he squeezes my hand, telling me he understands.
Chapter Two
Gage
Driving while she sleeps, holding her hand, I reflect on the past three months and try to let my logical side make sense of the fucking storm, just like she has.
Finding out my boy Brand isn’t mine was hell, but the man I chose to be every damn day forced me to get up and continue putting one foot in front of the other. And that boy is mine in every way possible, always would be.
Meeting a woman who infuriates and turns me on like no other gave me a focus, other than missing Brand. She pushed me to continue building a place that is meant to be a home at a time I wanted to just run from it all, all that I knew “home” to be, except Mags and Brand.
I look over as she sleeps. Her dark hair covers part of those sexy as hell red lips. She sleeps a hell of a lot these days.
I smile to myself, not giving a damn if she sleeps twenty hours a damn day. It’s my fault she is always physically exhausted. Her little body is carrying my child.
When she wakes up, looking at me like she wants me, you bet your ass I’m going to give it to her just how she likes it—hard.
Brand still calls me Dad occasionally. It’s confusing as hell to him. Being an adult, I can’t admit it’s confusing as hell to me, too. I can’t and won’t.
Garrett and Juliana, my brother and my ex-wife, the biological parents to Brand, are happy. And Brand is happier than he has been in years, more carefree. There is less tension in his life.
Juliana and I were toxic together. Kids may be resilient, but he sensed that shit. I’m going to always be a little pissed off at the situation, but it does lessen every day. I understand. I just don’t agree with why she did what she did. I understand. I just don’t agree with why he did what he did.
But, in a fucked-up way, if I were Garrett, and I lost my shit, it would be a brother I would want to step up and hold my place in line for me.
Phoenix, who once popped Juliana in the nose—tiny little shit was sticking up for me—is now great friends with her future sister-in-law. Hell, Juliana is giving her all sorts of advice, and I almost laugh when she gives her articles she clipped out of all those fucking magazines she reads all day. When both Juliana and Phoenix looked at me for doing that, I reeled it in. No, Phoenix would never choose her over me, but she’s pretty damn protective of her new best bud, her future sister-in-law. And yeah, Juliana is knocked up, too, so they will be raising little ones close together.
I think that’s good for Brand. Really good. And it’s really good for me, too.
Love that boy.
And my brother, well, he sure as hell could have run from here, taken him away, but he hasn’t. The man he is now, he always was, but life knocked him down
Phoenix and I will still be getting married October 14th, two days from now. We will just be doing it a little differently. No ballroom. Instead, a barn, one that solidified my need to make her mine on a level I sure as fuck wasn’t familiar with. Same place she all but begged me to fuck her, and I had to force myself to say no.
I laugh to myself, thinking about the moment she took off and I was alone with myself and the big “What the fuck was that?” question.
The answer, loud as the thunderstorm when I ate her sweet pussy, was: that was me being a better man.
As we speak, Mags, Juliana, and Mandee are working on the plans I barked out over the phone when I got the call that our wedding venue was up in smoke due to an electrical issue, I decided right there I was going to grab the future and last Mrs. Gage Falcon.
When we pull onto the Landing’s dirt road, it’s dark. Phoenix slept the whole time, hand still in mine.
The bumps wake her, and she sighs. “We’re home?”
“Yeah,” I say as she sits up a bit.
I watch a smile creep up on her face. It’s fucking contagious.
Home.
Per my instructions, no one meets us or greets us at the door. Her and I are going to have a talk. I’m probably going to fuck her, too, even though I told myself I wouldn’t, and then we are back on task.
She’s looking around when we walk in, and then turns to me. “Where is everyone?”
I start to bend down to help her with her shoes, when I realize she doesn’t have any on.
I look up at her.
“I was in a hurry.” She shrugs.
“Guess we both were,” I reply, standing straight.
“Well,” she says, looking around again, “where are they?”
“They …” I pause as I walk us over to sit on the couch, pulling her gently down on my lap. “They’re waiting until I tell them they can come. Girls are all staying with you until your parents get here. Us guys will be in the cabins.”
“No, you most certainly are not,” she says, taking my chin firmly in her little hand.
“I am. And it’s also important you keep your little ass out of the plans. I got this all under control.”
“Is that so?”
I brace myself for a fight and answer, “You bet your ass it is.”
I don’t get a fight. I get beautiful brown eyes filling with tears, a sexy beautiful full red lip quivering, right before she throws her arms around my neck and squeezes.
Hate that she’s crying. Haven’t seen this side of her before.
Nothing I can do, but hold her. Nothing else I want to do, either.
When she stops shaking in my arms, she turns her head so I can’t see her face. “Just go, okay?”
“Excuse me?” I hold back as much shock as I can from those words.
She starts to stand, but I hold her still.
“God,” she groans, batting at her eyes. “I sound just like her.”
“Like …?” I’m still not catching on.
“My mother.” She shakes her head then holds it in her hands.
“You upset about not doing this up big? We can do it up—”
“Are you kidding me right now?” She tries to stand again.
“Not kidding you, but thinking maybe you should chill the fuck out and maybe breathe.”
To that, her eyes snap back to me. “Breathe?”
“Even with black shit running down from your eyes, you are so fucking beautiful,” I say. It’s the truth.
She scowls then looks down.
“You pissed you let go emotionally in front of me, tiny badass?”
She looks up, her scowl deepening.
“You’ve seen me go through some shit, Phoenix. Gave zero fucks by the time I filled that cabin up with flowers. You’re sitting here on my lap, my baby in your belly, going to be my wife in the matter of days; if you can’t let go, cry, lose your shit with me—the man who will now and forever feel honored to hold you together when shit’s fucked up—then we got a fucking problem.”
She leans into my chest, resting her forehead against it.
“We got a problem, Phoenix?” I ask, rubbing her back.
“I’m so tired,” she says as answer. “And being tired and around my mom”—she sighs—“it’s been exhausting.”
“Then we’ll get you to bed.” I stand up with her in my arms. “Just as soon as I make sure you’ve had something to eat.”
“I want scrambled eggs,” she says, looking up at me. “And toast, with blackberry—”
Unable to stop my
self any longer, I kiss her. I kiss her like I haven’t kissed her in two days. I kiss her like she’s the only fucking person I ever want to kiss. I kiss her like I own her. I kiss her like she owns me, because all that is true.
Her hands are in my hair, fisting the fuck out of it, pulling me closer like she can’t get enough. I set her on the counter then step back when I know damn well we both need a breath.
As she grabs the hem of my shirt and tugs it up, I bend down so she can pull it over my head. She then tosses it aside and goes for my belt buckle as I move my hands up the back of her shirt, unhooking her bra. Then I pull her shirt up.
She is fumbling with my button, While I am trying to take it really damn easy with her tits.
“Christ,” I grumble when I grip one in my hand. “Two days and they grew that much?”
She stops fucking with the button as soon as my tongue licks slowly across her tight, little nipple. Then she shoves her hand down my pants, grabbing my cock like she fucking owns it. She does.
I suck gently on her nipple as I unbutton my pants and shove them down. She grips me tighter and yanks hard, pulling me closer, which makes me clamp down on her tit a bit too much, and she whimpers.
As I shove my thumbs into her waistband to pull them down, she wraps one arm around my neck, while still stroking me, as she lifts her ass up. I pull her pants off.
After tossing them aside, I reach under her, grabbing her hot little ass and lifting her up. She grips my shoulders as she wraps her legs around me.
“Bed,” I groan out as I feel her hot, wet pussy rub against me.
“Now,” she pleas as she reaches between us and grips me, rubbing my cock against her and lining us up.
“Fuck yes,” I hiss as she impales herself fully.
She cries out, her head falling back.
“Open your fucking eyes.”
Her eyes open slowly. Fire, I see fire in them. The same fire I feel burning inside my balls and following up as if there is a line of gasoline right to my fucking heart.
“Fuck,” I groan, pulling her head to my chest, wanting to ease the burn, or let her fucking feel it—feel what she does to me. What she’s done to me from the first time I saw her.