by L. A. Casey
“Oh, fuck!”
I gripped onto the side table closest to me and forced my knees not to buckle. My excitement quickly changed to an urgent need. My clit throbbed, each pulse acting as a demand for the attention of Ryder’s skilled tongue. I let go of the table with my right hand with the intention of stroking my clit myself, but a sharp wave of desire struck my body, and I needed to hold the table to stay upright.
Sex for me during this pregnancy had so far proved to be awesome. Every lick, stroke, thrust, and bump felt unbelievably amazing. I was so sensitive that the littlest of touches got me off. Coming early, and often, was not something that embarrassed me. I embraced the hell out of it and so did my husband.
“So sensitive,” Ryder growled against my sensitive flesh as he plunged his tongue deep into me once more.
“Ryder,” I moaned, trying not to buck back against his face. “Me clit, please.”
He nudged my knees apart with his hand, which was hard to do since my leggings were bundled around my shins, but he used the space and placed his hands on my legs and slowly moved upwards, massaging my inner thighs along the way. I held my breath when his thumb dipped into my pussy then slid over my lips as he neared my aching clit. The first touch sent a spasm throughout my body, and I knew I was a few seconds away from release. Ryder did too.
He bore down and rotated his thumb in a delicious circle that, quite literally, took my breath away. For a second or two, time itself stopped, and a feeling close to pain flared before sheer bliss replaced it. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy washed over me in waves, and if it wasn’t for Ryder’s hold on me, I would have dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. When the throbbing of delight slowed and eventually subsided, I opened my eyes, and instead of saying something sassy to my husband, a strangled cry of delight left my mouth as Ryder drove his length into the depths of my body.
“Heaven,” he growled. “You feel like Heaven. Every.” Thrust. “Single.” Thrust. “Time.” Thrust.
I re-established my hold on the table before me and held on for dear life. Ryder’s fingers bit into my flesh when his hold on my hips tightened. I didn’t need to ask if he was okay because the quickened paced of his thrusting told me just how good he was.
“Fuck, Sweetness,” he moaned. “Not gonna last long today, you feel too perfect.”
I hummed in response and pushed back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.
“Like a fucking vice,” he hissed.
Ryder slammed into me once, twice, thrice, and then his motions became jerked as he came.
“Branna,” he roared.
I leaned forward, pressing my cheek against the cool wooden surface of the table, and tried to catch my breath. It was only at that moment that I realised just how breathless I was, and I was worried that I sounded like someone who had just ran a marathon.
“Baby?” Ryder said, placing a hand on my back. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I rasped.
He withdrew from me, and I frowned at the loss. I loved sex with Ryder; the connection of him being inside me was like nothing I had ever felt before.
“You don’t sound okay,” he said as he straightened me up and nudged me backwards so he could move in front of me and look down at me. I inhaled and exhaled twice before I replied.
“You’re goin’ to kill me one day,” I joked. “Killer sex. That’d be a good way to go.”
Ryder frowned. “Don’t joke about that.”
My lips twitched. “Sorry.”
He brushed my hair out of my face and simply stared down at me.
I blushed. “What?”
“Your breathing,” he said, his tone firm. “It’s been getting worse. Any sort of activity tires you out almost instantly, and you struggle for your breath.”
His attentiveness was going to give him a panic attack one day.
“I am pregnant, Ry. Breathlessness is normal, and the bigger I get, the more breathless I will become. I’ll be able to tell if it becomes a problem, though, okay? Don’t worry so much.”
“You’re my wife, and you’re pregnant with our child. Worrying is all I’ve done these past three weeks.”
I reached up and pressed my palm against his cheek.
“I’m okay. I promise.”
He sighed. “Okay.”
I winked then bent down to pull my underwear and leggings up, but Ryder beat me to it. When I was decent, I went upstairs to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I exited the bathroom, Ryder was leaning against the wall facing me, and I couldn’t help but laugh at him.
“Did you think I was goin’ to fall down the toilet?”
He snorted. “You’d make anything possible, Sweetness.”
I crossed the landing to him. He leaned his head down and rubbed the tip of his nose over my cheek when I came to a stop before him. I smiled wider when I felt his hands touch my stomach.
“I feel like there’s something between us,” he joked as he ran his hands over my growing baby bump.
My lips curved upward. “Just your active child.”
I felt the baby kick at that moment. It was if he or she knew they were the topic of conversation. Ryder smiled when a second thump came from my womb. He ran this thumb over the exact spot and said, “I can’t wait until you’re big enough that I can see the baby move in your belly.”
I cringed. “I can wait because that has always and will always freak me out.”
Ryder chuckled and kissed my forehead. “I love you.”
He told me that at least ten times a day since we made up a few months ago. He said he was making up for all the days he didn’t tell me when we hit our rough patch, making sure that every day forward I knew just how deep his love ran for me.
“I love you, too,” I replied, meaning the words with every fibre of my being.
He gave me a squeeze then said, “Dominic is worried about Bronagh.”
Sickness churned in my gut.
“I know.” I swallowed. “She will be a little depressed for a while if Georgie is truly weanin’. She tried to smile and act like she didn’t feel so deeply about it, but I could see how close she was to breakin’ down when they were leavin’ earlier.”
“Dominic called while you were in the restroom and said he brought Georgie to Gravity with him and Damien just to give Bee some time to herself. He said she keeps crying when she looks at the baby.”
My heart hurt.
“I’m goin’ to go over there and spend a couple of hours with ‘er just so she’s not alone. I have the time since we’re here for another night. I don’t know how she feels, but I know it’s not somethin’ she should deal with alone. She’ll send Dominic away so she doesn’t worry ‘im but not me.”
“I’ll drive you.”
I gave Ryder a stern look. “I’ll drive meself since I’m not big enough yet to need assistance.”
Thank God.
My husband’s lips thinned to a line, showcasing his disappointment.
I place my hands on my already expanding hips. “Say whatever it is you want to say.”
He didn’t hesitate.
“I don’t feel comfortable with you—”
“Drivin’?” I finished. “I don’t understand why.”
“You’re pregnant, Branna.”
Very perceptive of you.
“I’m aware of that, honey, but it doesn’t mean I can’t drive. I’m not goin’ to stress and worry about everythin’ that could happen durin’ this pregnancy, okay? I refuse to live me life in fear.”
I lived like that once, and I vowed never to spend another minute lost in the darkness of that kind of dread.
Ryder still wasn’t happy that I clung to my independence so quickly after the horrid things I had endured a few months ago. I think he preferred when I didn’t want to go out by myself, but luckily, he relented and nodded once, accepting my decision. I leaned up on my tiptoes and pecked his lips to show my appreciation for him dropping the matter even though I knew it was hard for
“I’ll call you as soon as I get there if it makes you feel any better?”
He gripped my waist tightly with his large hands.
“It would.”
I winked. “Consider it done.”
“We can talk about future babies when you get back,” he said nonchalantly.
I rubbed the base of my neck. “Ry—”
“Later.”
He kissed my forehead, turned, and headed downstairs and into the kitchen, leaving me to stare after him. When he was out of my sight, I shook my head at his pig-headedness and headed downstairs then out of the house. Twenty minutes later, I was parking Ryder’s car—no, our car—in the driveway of Dominic and Bronagh’s house. It was vacant since Dominic wasn’t there. I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car. I used my house key to let myself in. I had promised to respect Bronagh’s family privacy and swore to only use my key for emergencies, but this was kind of an emergency, so I was putting it to good use.
“Bee?” I called out as I closed the door behind me.
When silence answered me, I frowned.
“Bronagh?” I shouted louder.
I checked the sitting room and kitchen, and when I found they were empty, I headed upstairs, but there was no sign of her or anyone in any of the rooms.
“Where the hell are you?” I mumbled to myself as I dug out my phone from my pocket and dialled my sister’s number.
“‘Ello?” a voice that wasn’t my sister’s answered on the fourth ring.
“Keela?” I said, confused. “Why do you have Bronagh’s phone?”
“It’s a long feckin’ story, Bran,” she grumbled. “I tried ringin’ you, but the reception block in this area is shite. Where are you?”
“I’m in Bronagh’s house,” I answered, placing my free hand on my hip. “Ryder told me Dominic went out with Georgie and Damien to Gravity so she could have some time to ‘erself. We’re pretty sure Georgie is self-weanin’ from breastfeedin’, and Bronagh’s havin’ a rough time with it.”
“Oh, I heard all about it.”
“So she’s with you then?” I asked. “I thought maybe she came by to see you and forgot ‘er phone at your place and that’s how you have it.”
“Nope, I’m with ‘er. Alannah too.”
Why does she sound so weird?
“What’s the problem?” I questioned.
“Ask me where I am,” Keela said in a huffed breath.
I blinked. “Okay, where are you?”
“In Crough’s Pub.”
“Fuck.”
“Yeah, everythin’ about this is fuck.”
Bollocks.
“So,” Keela continued.
I groaned. “So?”
“Alannah and Bronagh,” she began.
“What about them?”
“They’re... well... they’re... drunk.”
“Oh, Jesus,” I paled. “Not again.”
“Yep, again.”
The gates of Hell have reopened.
I closed my eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Oh, I’m sure.” Keela snorted. “Alannah is twerkin’, and Bronagh is strippin’ off. You might wanna call the lads ‘cause they won’t listen to me—ah fuck, they’re gettin’ up to sing karaoke. I need backup!”
“I’ll be there ASAP.”
I hung up on Keela, dialled Dominic’s number, and was glad when he answered on the third ring.
“Houston.” I sighed. “We have a big arse problem.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means?” Dominic questioned.
Yes.
“What’re you doin’?”
“I’m at Gravity with Damien and Georgie. They added an infant and toddler section with these cute as fuck walls that are no taller than I am. We put a harness on her and let her ‘climb’ it. She screamed and laughed the entire time. We got it on video—wait till you see it, it’s fucking adorable.”
“Yeah, I can’t wait to see it... so listen, I’ve somethin’ to tell you.”
Things got quiet on Dominic’s end.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Bronagh and Alannah.” I exhaled as I looked up at the ceiling. “They’re causin’ Keela problems.”
“How?” he quizzed. “Are they still telling her they won’t pose for a nude photo shoot to be on the cover of her book?”
My lips twitched. “She was messin’ with them about that.”
“Then what’re they doing?” he asked before quickly saying, “Ah-ah, baby. No. Daddy is talking on the phone; you can’t play with it. No. Ah-ah. Georgie. No hitting, baby. I said no!”
A loud cry came from the receiver of my phone, and it caused me to wince.
“Damien!” Dominic called. “Take her for a second; I can’t hear what Branna is saying over her fussing.”
I heard Damien’s voice as he cooed and spoke to Georgie in a soft tone; both his voice and my niece’s shouting faded away, and I heard Dominic’s deep sigh.
“This breast weaning thing is giving me a headache, and it’s only starting.”
I laughed. “Imagine how Bronagh feels.”
“Speaking of my future wife, what has she and Alannah done to grind Keela’s gears?”
Here we go.
“Do you want it straight or watered down?”
“Like you even have to ask.” He snorted. “Straight all day every day, baby.”
You asked for it.
“They’re both drunk in Crough’s pub,” I blurted. “Keela can only do so much to contain them when they’re together like this. Karaoke is involved and alcohol is involved, which means—”
“Horrible dancing and stripping are involved,” Dominic finished.
“Pretty much.”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” he angrily stated then shouted, “Dame, you aren’t goin’ to believe this shit. Get the baby ready. We’re leaving. Now.”
I pulled my phone away from my ear and looked at the screen when silence dragged on, indicating Dominic hung up. He sounded pissed, and I didn’t blame him. Drunk Bronagh, was... crazy. Crazier than sober Bronagh, which was saying something.
With a shake of my head, I left my sister’s house and got into my car. I backed out of the garden and headed in the direction of Crough’s pub. I needed to get there before Dominic and Damien did to act as a barricade to protect Bronagh. Dominic would never hurt her, but he’d give her a right talking to, and even that could be too intense for public.
Ten minutes later, as I pulled up to the pub and parked, my phone rang. I fumbled with my bag to grab my device, and when I saw it was my husband calling me, I winced, realising I forgot to call him to let him know I was okay.
“Hey,” I said in a rushed breath when I answered. “Sorry, I didn’t ring. I’ve a—”
“Big ass problem,” Ryder said, cutting me off. “I heard all ‘bout it. Dominic just dropped Georgie off with me and told me where he and Dame were heading and why. Just giving you a heads-up that he’s pissed. Really pissed. Damien isn’t faring better either. You know how he gets when it comes to Alannah.”
Shite.
“Brilliant,” I grumbled as I climbed out of the car and locked it up. “I’ll be home when I square everything away here.”
“Good luck.” Ryder laughed.
I hung up on him, shook my head, and entered the pub. It wasn’t hard to find my sister and friend. In fact, it was quite possibly the easiest task ever bestowed upon me. On a cramped stage in the corner of the pub, both girls jammed out to some God-awful music with no lyrics, just horribly loud siren sounds.
I spotted Keela sitting at the bar, watching the girls with a shake of her head. I moved towards her and took up the vacant stool next to her, gaining her attention. She leaned over and gave me a hug in greeting.
“The barman told me they’ve only been here about forty minutes,” she said as she retook her seat. “They’re both buckled, though.”
“Bee hasn’t drunk in forever with bein’ pregnant and breast feedin’,” I commented, “and Lana hardly ever lets loose... They’re the perfect lightweights.”
Keela snorted. “You’re tellin’ me.”
“Bee must be sure that Georgie is weanin’ in order to be drinkin’ alcohol. Lana is drunk probably because she is dealin’ with the knowledge of her da’s secret affair and with Damien bein’ home—even though she won’t admit she feels any sort of way about his return.”
“That’s exactly what I’m thinkin’. They think they’re havin’ fun, but deep down, they know better. Right now, drinkin’ is a vice.”
“This might end in tears.” I sighed.
“Or laughter,” Keela mused. “I get why they’re drinkin’, but when they drink, it’s pretty funny for everyone in close proximity to them.”
I thought back to the last time they got drunk together, and my lips curved upwards.
“I guess we’ll find out.”
I turned and ordered an ice water when familiar music began to play, and familiar voices began to sing.
Oh, God.
I looked at Keela, who faced the bar like me. We turned back around, but Keela kept her eyes closed, and it made me laugh.
“Are they... singin’ karaoke?” she asked. “Really singin’ it? Not just mumblin’ along?”
I nodded as she opened her eyes and winced as both my sister and friend drunkenly jammed out on the small stage in the corner of the pub. Even though the place was small, the two of them still drew an audience.
“Me milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, and they’re like; it’s better than yours—”
“This is bad,” Keela said, then covered her mouth when Alannah began to twerk.
I widened my eyes. “Why does she turn into Beyoncé when she is drunk but is quiet as a mouse when sober?”
“Maybe this is the real Lana, and we’ve only known a cover-up version of ‘er?”
I shook my head. “I’m inclined to believe you because... damn. She used to suck but has clearly been practicin’. I mean how does she make ‘er arse move like that?”
“Don’t look at me; I can’t twerk to save me life,” Keela replied. “The only thing that shakes on me is me belly rolls.”
“Same ‘ere, babe.” I laughed. “Same ‘ere.”
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