by Dani Wyatt
“Well, obviously that didn’t work, so what the fuck?”
“Man, it got fucked up. She started screaming at me, calling me a fag. Said the only reason a man wouldn’t fuck her is if he was a fag. Said she and Jeremy knew I was gay. Started fucking taunting me about liking little boys or some crazy shit. There are no lines that woman won’t cross. Anyway, I was wrong, but I broke. She was completely naked, taunting me and I snapped. I bent her over a table and I did it. But I didn’t rape her, it’s what she wanted. Then I left. That was it.”
I see the burden on him. The weight of everything he’s telling me. He hangs his head before he finishes saying what he has to say.
“I talked to Northrup already. I’m heading over there tomorrow, try to make right what I've done. I did set up the surveillance tape to make it look like Jeremy broke in the building. I did that. I wanted to distract them from Promise and besides . . . that guy’s a dick. But it was wrong. In so many ways and I don’t even believe I did it. My head was fucked up, hearing about my Dad, then your Dad died.” Louis takes a long breath. “I still shouldn’t have done it. When I found out Promise had a brother, I could feel myself losing it. When I found out he was mine? I’ve been fine for so long, but it brought it all back and I fucking snapped. I did shit I wouldn’t normally do. Like doctoring that tape.”
“It still doesn’t make sense, man. I mean, why after all these years do you care now what your family thinks?”
“A month before your dad died, I got a letter from my brother. My father’s dying. He’s got cancer and he wanted me to know that because of what I’d done, my father would die with a curse on his soul. Then when I found out about Jordan, it just fractured. It all just came flooding back and I did my best to fight it off, but in the end, I lost it. We got custody settled and inside my head I knew I shouldn’t do it. Take Jordan to my family. But, like I said, I lost it. I was wrong and I almost got him killed.” Louis’s voice breaks. “My son.”
There's a long moment before he can carry on, and I let him take it. The weight of all this is on his shoulders and I know how that must feel.
“When my father shot Jordan . . . no, scratch that, I knew before that day I’d made a huge mistake coming back. Nothing had changed. Sure, they let me in. Told me I’d lifted the family curse. But of course, nothing was different. I was still the aberration. They actually tried to get me to leave Jordan with them and come back here. Asked why I didn’t have a wife. Where his mother was. It all just started all over again. I can’t even make sense of it myself. There’s a hold your father has on you, you know? In my culture, from the moment you are born you are a reflection on your entire family. The scars are so deep. It just all flooded back and I really thought I needed to go there. To make Jordan–make myself–a part of the family again. When you showed up, I knew I was talking bullshit. Telling you Egypt was his home now. I’d already started to see clearly, but when my father pulled out the gun, I knew I had to wake up.”
“Are you fucking awake now?”
“Yes, I’m awake. Wide awake.”
“Okay, good. Because you and I are going to renegotiate the custody agreement. I’m not taking Jordan from you, but you are giving Promise primary custody. The rest we will work out as we go. Got it?”
Louis nods and somewhere in between us, I hear my heart start beating again. I see him as he is. A broken man. A man ripped apart by the guilt heaped down on him by his family all those years ago.
What he did, putting Promise through all that. I don't know if I'll ever completely forgive him for that. But the rest of it. Water under the bridge.
Because I understand why. And that's what matters. I understand, and for what it's worth, I don't harbor any ill will toward him.
At the end of it all, Louis is still my friend. I’ll work on letting it all go, but it will take a while. Whatever he's done, he's still the same good guy that I knew. And I can't even begin to tell him how grateful I am that that's the case.
I let out a sigh. “Jordan’s about to become an uncle.”
I fight the smile, but it wins and Louis loses the same battle.
Eight Months Later
Promise
“Oh my god, my god, Beck.” His tongue is searching my opening, his face between my legs as his two day unshaved beard reddens the insides of my thighs.
When he pauses I know to look down at him, aware that he's looking up at me. I catch barely a glimpse of him over the fullness of my nine month tummy. While I watch, he takes a long, slow suck on my sensitive clit, holding my gaze, then smiles. “Don’t make me wait for what’s mine, babe.” He rains down kisses on my outer lips before diving back in and sending two fingers into my drenched opening, curling them and hitting my g-spot until ragged groans are coming out of me. He stops and the deep vibrations of his voice are tickling me. “I want that baby out of you. I want to see what we made. The book says orgasms can bring on labor, so we aren’t going to quit until that happens.”
He’s pumping his fingers, shoving them deep then curling them into that special spot, all while his mouth works magic on my hard nub. I let everything else fall away as he growls into me and I let my head fall back, spread my legs until the muscles pull and ride his face just the way he likes.
“Fuck.” I breathe the word that only comes out of me when I feel this way, only ever with him.
My body coils, then bursts, and I cum with a shudder, his name and God’s name coming from me over and over. But still he doesn’t stop until he pulls another body shaking orgasm from me and stars dance in front of my eyes. My fingers clutch at the sides of his head, holding onto him until I settle back to earth.
Before my climax fades, I feel his hands on my hips.
“Lift your ass, babe.” He lets go and I dig my heels into the bed as he stuffs two fluffy pillows under me, raising my open pussy.
I open my eyes to see him on his knees, his thick cock in his hand, stroking himself as his eyes dance over my body.
“I can’t wait to suck those tits when they’re full.” He leans in and rubs this cock head into my soaking opening. “That baby better leave some for me.”
“Ummm, you are insatiable.” I shake my head, raising my arms to the ceiling. “Look at me! I’m a whale.”
He spreads me with the tip of his dick and my breathing stops. He penetrates me with his cock in one thrust, making me groan and sink into the feeling of being stretched and owned by him. He splays my knees farther apart with this hands and I can feel him practically in my womb.
“I love you like this. Well fucked and full of me. Full of us.” He pulls out and drives back in as I stretch my arms over my head and let him have all of me.
I push up on my feet, meeting his strokes as we watch each other. He speeds his movement, bringing his hand down and his thumb works on my clit. I moan and close my eyes.
“Go there babe. Go to your special place. Cum for me.”
He’s churning in and out, filling me with his thickness, circling around and around on my nub until I feel the curl in my toes. The tingle gathers low and I’m lost again, my body gushing onto his cock and I feel him jerk and spray inside, cumming along with me.
When my breath starts to slow, he leans down and peppers kisses on the mound of my belly. That's when I feel the first twinge.
“Beck.”
“Yeah babe.” He brings his hands to my tits, cupping them until he manages to work his body over me. He settles his mouth on one nipple, drawing hard and another tightening spasm hits me.
“Beck!”
“What?” He looks up, startled. He gets so lost in what he’s doing.
“You’re done. The baby . . . it's time.”
Four hours later Beck is brushing my hair from my face and wiping the back of his hand across his cheeks. He didn’t leave me for one moment. And I’m not sure, but I think I threatened his life at least once.
“You’re a fucking rockstar.” He looks at me with pride, then settles his hand on top o
f the tiny head laying on my bare chest. “And I never thought I’d say this, but she’s as beautiful as you.”
I lean my face down to breathe in the scent of our baby. It’s more intoxicating than any liquor and more addictive than any drug. I want to breathe her into me.
My labor happened so fast that the midwife barely made it to the house in time, but I think Beckett and I would have been fine without her. She's still here now, straightening and cleaning up, filling out some paperwork, but Beckett and I are already lying together in our enormous, pillared, king-size bed.
The midwife's name is Nadine. She wears these purple spectacles and ties her hair in a bun. I'm sure she's someone's grandmother. She's trying to keep a low profile, to give us our privacy, and it seems to me that she's very small, barely visible as she moves around the room. But then she's there, by the bed, and she's got a pen and a form.
“So?” She smiles over the top of her spectacles.
I turn my head toward Beck and he nods.
“Cherish.” I say, and Beckett kisses my temple. “Cherish Emily Henderson Fitzgerald.”
“Beautiful.” Nadine scribbles on her paper, then turns and makes her way out the bedroom door.
It’s early morning, the sun is coming up, and Beckett’s slow, easy breathing comforts me. For just a moment, I think of my mom. I wonder how she felt at this moment, when she held me for the first time. I let out a slow exhale, comforted by the fact that the thoughts of her come and go without any sadness.
“This is just the beginning.” Beckett runs his knuckles down my cheek, then grazes his fingertips down my chest and around the outside of my breast. He’s admiring me, I know the look, but the depth of it has changed and it makes me shiver when I see the look in his eyes. “We’re a family. We will always be a family.”
His soft caresses send chills over my skin and he immediately reaches down to pull the clean white sheet up over half of me. The warmth of his breath is next to my ear and I close my eyes, pulling Cherish tightly against me. Her tiny body, with its clenched fists and wrinkly toes, is perfection beyond any definition I’ve ever known.
Six Months After
Promise
I’ve learned that you have to work at being happy. It's a process, not just somewhere you show up. You don’t hop off the Greyhound from Sucksville one day and decide to settle in Happyland.
And that’s okay with me, because you can have a lot of fun along the way.
The smell of the charcoal and the mesquite chips on the grill swirl in the breeze that drifts through the kitchen from the deck. Beckett is whistling for Henry, who's out chasing the chickens again.
Henry was Jordan’s twelfth birthday present. He’s a shelter jewel, with eyes that look like spun gold and a short fur coat that is the perfect shade of melted chocolate. When Beckett brought him home he was ten pounds, now he’s rounding out the scale in the mid-hundreds and he just can’t seem to convince the chickens he’s one of them.
“Hey babe.” Beckett stomps through the screen door to the kitchen. He’s as magnificent as the day I saw him in Windfield. He’s shirtless, his torso calling out for my hands.
“Hey back.” He comes up behind me as I turn into the counter where I am busy flipping and flouring a loaf of bread, hoping it will rise in time to bake for the barbecue.
The way he pulls me back into him will never get old, the way he sets his lips on my neck and wraps his arms around me. He smells like the summer breeze, fresh cut grass and mesquite. My belly flutters as I settle the dough on the marble countertop to sit for the next hour.
“I love you.” It rumbles out of him as his lips work the shell of my ear, then down my neck.
Every woman in the world should be kissed like this, not just once but many times a day. He is a master of the neck, the cheek, the ear. He lightly traces his tongue and lips down to the base of my neck, pulling the strap of my sun dress off my shoulder and continues making me shudder and sigh.
I know what’s coming and I welcome it. Nothing has tamed his lust for me and I can’t remember once that I’ve turned him away. He knows me, knows what I need. I trust him more than I trust myself most of the time.
“Cherish upstairs?” He whispers in my ear, then continues kissing and making love to my neck with his mouth.
I manage a nod, because words are not possible. My belly is cartwheeling and I’m already soaking between my legs. Panties are a rare part of my wardrobe, as is a bra, because that’s the way Beckett likes me, but also because it’s who we are. We’ve been married a year, we have one perfect angel upstairs sleeping already and Beckett is determined to put another one in my belly as quickly as is safe.
Cherish is six months old today, and we said we would wait six months to really start trying again. Beckett’s already filled me twice this morning with loads of his cum, and from the feel of his warm lips on my neck, and the monster hard-on he’s pressing into my ass, he’s about to make that three. We don’t use any birth control, so he’s cum inside me more than a few times, times when we both were so lost in the moment that it happened. But since Cherish was born, for the most part, I’ve been swallowing and wearing a lot of his cum.
“Beck, my hands are a mess.” I manage to choke out the words as he lifts the back of my dress over my ass with one hand while the other snakes around, over my belly, under the hem of the yellow fabric to settle his fingers firmly between my legs and gently squeeze. “And they’re going to be here any time.”
“My house. My girl. My rules.” He growls. “We fuck when I want. Where I want. How I want.”
I smile to myself. As I said, I would never refuse him and sometimes I wonder what would happen if I ever did. I’m pretty sure it would involve him throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me off like a caveman. He knows me better than I know myself, knows what I need and what’s best for me and the trust I have with him is bottomless. Sex is not a chore, not something I do for him, it is the beauty of what we are together. I’m as horny for him as he is for me. Sometimes more. We’ve managed to get through a lot of challenges already in the year we’ve been married, but it’s been the happiest time of my life, and this is a big reason why.
He grabs my pussy with his hand, squeezing until I gasp and grip the edge of the counter top.
“Mine. All mine.” He rumbles. “Tell me.”
“I’m yours. Always and only yours.” I know instinctively what he wants and needs to hear, and I love giving it to him because it’s true.
I hear the sound of his zipper as his fingers begin to swirl around my clit. I’m soaking already and my body relaxes as he works his magic fingers through me, then begins pushing them into me.
“I’m going to fuck you until we’ve got another baby in that beautiful belly of yours.”
He drives two fingers deep inside me. His hands are magic, he’s learned just the right rhythm, the mixture of teasing and stroking my clit and pressing inside me with his long fingers until I burst and drench his hand.
“What’s your job?” He asks, his lips moving onto my neck, nipping and licking until I’m utterly helpless to the desperate need he creates inside me.
“To cum for you.” I barely whisper, my body already tense. My thighs beginning to quiver.
He slips a third finger inside me and the pain and fullness are more than I can take. I’m so close and he knows just what to say.
“That’s right. That’s my good girl.” His lips and tongue are on my neck again. “Such a good, good girl.”
Those are the magic words and I shudder and cum with a long moan. My body tightens around his probing fingers, but he keeps them moving until I ride out the last of my shaking climax.
I’m out of breath as he grabs me around the waist, spins me around and hoists me effortlessly to sit on the counter. He settles my ass at the edge and I look down to see him release his monster and stroke himself a few times, smiling at me.
“You want this?”
His cock is nearly as beautifu
l as he is. He has truly made me crave him, there is nothing about sex with him that is off limits, dirty or shameful. He has made me into what I am now, a sex toy, his sex toy, and I wear that badge with honor.
“Yes. Please Daddy. I want.” I bite my lip as he lowers his head between my legs.
I grip the edge of the counter as he clutches my legs, pushing them wide as my back arches and his tongue takes a long, slow lick. My thighs shake as a jolt of pleasure rockets through me.
He comes up, meeting my eager mouth with his as I taste my orgasm on his lips. His tongue plunges inside my mouth as he guides his granite hard-on into my drenched pussy in one slow, deep stroke.
His fingertips dig into the top of my ass, pulling me to the edge of the counter and seating his cock so deep I feel him pushing at my limit. He’s so thick it still sends a flicker of pain when he stretches me.
He moves slowly for the first few strokes, but I feel the tension in his shoulders as I hug him and hang on. The slow, gentle strokes don't last long. He growls into our kiss and pulls back, teasing me with just the tip of his cock inside me. I whimper and he brings his lips to mine, holding them there.
His lips curve into a smile as he sucks my tongue into his mouth and slams his cock into me with such force my head bangs against the cabinets, making me gasp and laugh.
I listen to the slapping of flesh, the moans we both make, the clink of his belt buckle as it hangs loose around his thighs. He churns into me, pulling away from our kiss to look me in the eyes.
“Cum inside me Daddy.” I manage to choke out as the tension builds in my core. Those words are his kryptonite and his cock swells another size. I know we are both already on the edge.
I clasp my arms around his neck, holding tight as he takes complete ownership of my body, pulling my hips against him, the hard flesh of his body tickling my slit with each movement. He releases one hand from my ass and brings it between us, getting the rough pad of his thumb on my clit.
He works my swollen, sensitive nub and thrusts so deep I yelp. It’s only another moment until I burst into oblivion with the pressure from his thumb and the way he’s filling me. The orgasm starts in my toes, then that magical euphoria dances up my legs and explodes in my core.