The Sweetest Gift: A Second Circle Tattoos/Preload Crossover Novella

by Scarlett Cole

  Drea grabbed his wrist, holding him in place as she bucked once against him. “Brody,” she whispered. She was one of the few people who called him by his real name, and he loved the sound of it as it fell from her lips.

  “Yeah, Shortcake?”

  He let the cloth sink to the bottom of the tub, and as he looked into her eyes, eyes he’d found his own salvation in, he pressed a finger into her welcoming warmth.

  Drea’s mouth opened in a silent gasp as she opened her legs wider, letting them fall apart to grant him better access. The bubbles covered his view, but he knew everything about her. The way her short dark curls would look wet, how pink her lips would be, how his finger looked coated in her excitement.

  “Fuck, I love the way you feel around my fingers, Babe.” He increased the pace as Drea’s hips moved against him.

  “Just like that. Just there,” she cried, moving against his hand. “It feels so good.”

  He could feel the urgency, could see the need, and goddamn, he hovered on the verge of his own orgasm. He pressed his other palm against his dick, moving against it as he watched his wife seek what she wanted.

  And he was right there with her when her back arched, when her head pressed against the end of the tub, as the moan that accompanied her orgasm ripped through the heavy air of the bathroom.

  “Brody,” she cried, gasping for air, letting go of his wrist.

  He watched as her chest settled, her breathing evening out, before he slid his finger out of her. He moved to the top of the bath and pressed his lips to hers. Perhaps it was because he was a kinky fuck, but the way their kiss was punctuated by short gasps for air cranked him higher.

  “You going to get in here and take what’s yours?” she murmured against his lips.

  “If that’s an invitation, you’d better believe it, but let me grab a condom.”

  He stood, but she reached for his hand. “Don’t… I mean, you don’t need to.”

  “Wild horses couldn’t stop me from fucking you right now. I mean, you could, if you didn’t want to. I’m not a dick, but, Babe…”

  “No, I mean, you don’t need to get a condom. I mean, we never talked about this, and I don’t want to be a mood killer, but… what if we didn’t use one. What if we decided to, you know…”

  His heart bounced down to his ribs, then back to its regular spot. “Get pregnant? Have kids?” he asked, tentatively. They’d talked about having them. They both wanted them. But they’d agreed to wait until Drea was out of college. He’d not wanted to apply pressure, but goddamn if he wasn’t envious of his best friend, Trent, and his growing family.

  Drea nodded and then glanced away from him, running her finger down the bathroom wall. Looking away was something she always did when she was feeling vulnerable. It was her tell. “Yeah. It’s time, isn’t it? Unless you’ve changed your mind.”

  He rubbed his thumb over her fingers before letting her hand go. With one smooth action, he pulled his T-shirt over his head. A moment later, he had shucked his jeans and underwear and was stepping into the water.

  Facing her in the tub, he reached for her, pulling her to him until she was sitting astraddle, his dick urging to get inside her, his heart cracking into a million magnificent pieces that she still wanted what he wanted.

  Kids to go with the perfection they already had.

  He slid his bubble-covered hands around her neck and pulled her toward him. “I’m fucking surer about this than anything else I’ve ever done in my life, Babe.”

  And then he let his kiss tell her the rest. Let his lips convey his love for her. Let his dick convey his desire. And his hands, he hoped, conveyed that she was the most precious part of his life. Of his heart.

  They couldn’t be so lucky that they’d get pregnant on their first fucking outing, he knew that, but the idea that this was even more than the wonder of making love with Drea, that this could lead to the child they both wanted, made it even more important.

  Drea raised herself above him, and he grabbed his dick, holding it steady as she eased herself down on him. “Fuck, Babe.” Shock flooded him. Sex without a condom was some fucking fantasy. Everything felt hot, wetter, more intimate.

  “Brody,” Drea gasped as she moved against him, her eyes fixed on his.

  Water sloshed over the side of the tub, but he couldn’t give a fuck. Drea. Bareback. Soapy bubbles running over her breasts like a fucking playboy vision. He pulled a nipple into his mouth and sucked on it, hard.

  “Ah,” she cried out, not in pain but with pleasure.

  And if there wasn’t anything better than hearing the effect he was still able to have on her after all these years.

  Drea increased her pace, grinding, demanding he give her everything he had. And he would. He’d tear himself in half for her.

  “Babe. Yeah, hard like that,” he groaned as she slammed down on him. His orgasm began to build… from the soles of his feet to the tip of his head. Everything was concentrated on this one perfect moment.

  “Oh, god. I’m going to come,” Drea groaned, losing all sense of rhythm.

  He gripped her hips, took over, rising up to slam into her, chasing the edge until he came, pulsing deep inside her. Giving her all he had. His head spun at the enormity of it.

  “Ah, Babe,” he grunted, as his orgasm lasted what felt like a lifetime.

  Drea fell against his chest and he wrapped his arms tightly around her. Wanting her to feel safe and loved as he rode out the aftershock of what they’d just done.

  “I love you,” he said, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

  “I love you, too,” she mumbled, before sitting up again. The smile she gave him made him feel like a fucking king.

  His dick twitched in appreciation of the view and he wondered how long it would take him to get ready for a second round. “I feel like we must have at least made triplets because I just fucking exploded in there.”

  Drea looked at him for a moment and then laughed. Laughed so hard that his dick began to torturously slide out of her.

  “Only you would assume you made three babies in one go.”

  He held his hands out to the sides and shrugged. “Of course, I’m going to be epic at making babies.”

  Drea grabbed the edge of the tub and stood to climb out. She reached into the shower and turned the tap on. “Well, get up and let’s see how epic you are at making dinner for six people.” The glass door swung shut as she stepped inside.

  They’d just had unprotected sex, they’d seemingly agreed to start trying for kids. It suddenly felt like a fucking tornado had landed in the middle of his life, yet it had barely made a ripple. They were the same two people committed to a life together, yet the journey had just become more epic, more treacherous.

  He climbed out of the bath and joined her in the shower to rinse off the suds. With his hands on her hips, he turned her to face him. “Did we really just do that?” he asked, suddenly feeling uncertain of himself.

  Drea’s serene smile was all he needed to see. “Yes, Brody. We did. It’s still what you want, right?”

  Cujo nodded, slightly dumbstruck.

  “Thank you,” Drea said. “You’ve been so supportive, patient even, encouraging me to follow my dream. You helped me through college. And you never complain when work bleeds over into our time together. I know how much you want kids. I see it every time you’re around our friends’ kids. And even if we were lucky enough to get pregnant quickly, I would still have had this job for a year and a half before I had to go off on mat leave.”

  “That’s one hell of a Christmas gift, Drea.”

  Drea laughed. “Yeah, well, you still have tomorrow to make sure you are compensating me accordingly.”

  “I think my dick just compensated you more than enough.”

  She splashed water in his face. “You are such an idiot.”

  He grabbed her around the waist. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” He kissed her. Gently. “And I’m going to get started on a mini-skateboar
d park in the yard. You know. Just in case.”

  Two hours later, with the house smelling of evergreen and lasagna, the doorbell rang.

  Dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, Cujo opened the door.

  “Hey, Harp,” he said, hugging his best friend’s wife around the bump that would be a new baby in the spring. The thought that Drea could be pregnant by then made him grin.

  “Hey, Sweetie. Smells good in here.” Harper slid out of her jacket, and Cujo took it from her.

  “Drea’s in the kitchen. If she asks you if two garlic baguettes are enough, tell her you think she should do four, would you?”

  Harper laughed. “I still don’t get, after all these years, how you manage to eat so much food. It’s one of the universe’s great mysteries.”

  “Dude, you need a haircut,” he said, hugging Trent as he stepped through the door.

  “Fucker. I’m growing it. Pain in my ass right now, though. And Travis likes grabbing mittfuls of it when I’m not paying attention.”

  Cujo knew firsthand just how hard two-year-old Travis could grip onto clumps of hair.

  “Well, I like it,” Harper said before she headed toward the kitchen.

  Cujo studied Trent as his friend watched her go. “You are such a pussy.”

  “Says the guy who grew out a shaved head because your wife thought you looked like a criminal.”

  “Fair play. We’re both fucking whipped. Maybe we should warn Reid—”

  “Warn me about what?” Reid said, placing his hand on Lia’s lower back to guide her into the house ahead of him.

  Lia kissed Trent and Cujo on the cheek. “Hey, guys. Kitchen?”

  Cujo nodded and took the bottle of wine she handed him. Wisely, he waited for Lia to disappear from earshot before continuing. “Don’t do it, mate,” Cujo said, grinning. “We’ve just concluded we’re pussy-whipped and wanted to warn you. Run to Albuquerque while you can and stay single.”

  Reid laughed and slapped Trent on the back. “Sorry, guys, but I can’t wait to marry her. She can whip my pussy all she wants. Or let me whip hers. Whatever.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Trent said, covering his ears. “I don’t need to hear more about your sex life. I heard plenty of it at the beach house we rented this summer.”

  Cujo grinned. “I’m so glad we ended up on the other side of the hall.”

  “What can I say? We verbalize. From the radio silence from your rooms, I can only conclude no pussy-whipping was going on.”

  “What the heck are you three discussing in the hallway?” Drea asked, a tray of canapés in her hand.

  Cujo grabbed two off the plate and popped them in his mouth. “How much we love and respect our wives and wife-to-be.”

  Drea rolled her eyes. “Well, come and love and respect your wives and wife-to-be in the family room.”

  Trent kissed the top of her head as he walked by. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

  Reid grinned and stole a pastry off the tray, following Trent’s lead.

  “Pussy-whipped, is it?” she asked playfully.

  “Joke, Shortcake. You know I would never take anything harder than my dick to your pussy. I love it too much.”

  Drea snorted and shook her head. “It’s a good job I love you,” she said. She followed Trent and Reid to the family room, but before she turned the corner, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him. And it had always been her smile that had knocked him on his ass.

  “Yeah,” Cujo whispered, letting her words settle in his chest. “It’s a good job you do.”

  4

  “Fuck me, Babe,” Dred said, throwing an arm to shield his eyes from the light. “What are you doing?”

  Pixie stood at the bottom of their bed in an old Preload tour T-shirt and shimmied her butt. “We’re going home today,” she squeaked. “I’m so freaking excited.” Glee radiated from her, from her eyes, her smile, the way she shook her ass… an ass he’d wanted to wake up next to and perhaps play with for a little while.

  He rolled over and glanced at his phone. “The flight’s not until ten, which is four hours away.” He sat up, allowing the sheet to drop from his body. Deliberately, he ran his hand over his chest. Weirdly, the move made Pixie more susceptible to his charms and she knew it.

  “Stop with the hand thing,” she said.

  He ran his hand down past his navel. “You love the hand thing. Come get back in bed and let me reacquaint you with other parts of me that you love.”

  “I get to see those parts of you every day and twice on Sunday. But, today I get to see everybody, and I get to see Lia before she gets married tomorrow. And I get to see Cujo and Trent and smell the sea air and get sand in my shoes. I don’t have time for your sexy shenanigans right now.”

  “Sexy shenanigans?” he asked, unable to control his smirk. To tempt her more, he slid his hand beneath the sheet.

  “Nope. No. Uh-uh,” she said, covering her eyes. “I’m not looking at whatever it is you think you are doing under there.” She turned to face their bathroom. “Four hours is going to fly by. Petal needs a bath before we go. Arwen needs feeding. I have to finish packing up Lia’s wedding dress.”

  Dred pulled his hand back above the covers. “You win,” he said, throwing the sheet back and climbing out of bed. He walked towards her and slid his hands beneath the hem of the T-shirt to cup her ass. “But when we get the kids settled tonight, I’m going to claim this.” He squeezed her cheeks to make his point.

  Pixie reached up on her toes and kissed him softly. “It’s already yours,” she said. “You liked it and put a ring on it, remember?” She flashed her engagement ring and wedding band at him. He remembered the day they’d said I do on a private Caribbean island with their closest friends during a party that had lasted a week.

  “I just like to remind you.” He pressed his lips to hers, savoring the quiet moment with her before the girls woke up. He slid his hand into her hair, hair she had dyed white the week before, scaring the shit out of him. He liked it, but at first glance after a day recording with the guys, he thought some crazy stalker had broken into their home. With Lia’s color theme being red, she’d decided to go white for her best friend, even though Lia would never have asked her to.

  “Have I told you how much I like this?” he said, running his fingers through the end of her long bob.

  “The color or the cut?”

  “Both. I mean, I liked it before. But this is like waking up with a different woman. Kinda kinky to get to have sex with you as a different you.”

  “I didn’t figure you for a role-play guy. I can get wigs.”

  He shook his head, tugging on her hair gently. “If it’s not attached to you, I won’t be able to get into it. You are the only person I want to make love to for the rest of my life. I don’t need you to pretend to be anybody else.”

  “Such a sweet-talker.”

  “I’ll get breakfast, passports, all that shit going while you shower.” And with a light tap on her ass that made Pixie laugh and his heart burst as it always did when he took the time to truly look at her, he grabbed his phone and left the bedroom.

  Their house was warm, a luxury he still appreciated every single morning. Pixie never mentioned his need for heat, but he never wanted any of his girls to experience the sensation of waking up and feeling the cold. He pulled up the waistband of his black pajama bottoms and walked along the hallway.

  His phone buzzed and he checked the screen.

  Do I need to get anything special for Lexi to fly?

  Jordan.

  Dred had a feeling that while Jordan was most definitely embracing the idea of pending fatherhood, it would trigger some of Jordan’s deepest fears of loss and abandonment. He thought back to when Pixie was pregnant with Arwen.

  If she still gets morning sickness, you might want to be prepared for that, he typed.

  There was a pause.

  Does our travel policy include pregnancy-related stuff?

  Dred smiled. Dude, yes… she’s covere
d. But given the size of your bank account, you could buy a fucking hospital if you needed to. RELAX.

  Jordan sent back a photograph of him flipping the bird.

  Dred grinned at the camera and sent it back.

  As Pixie had promised, the rest of the morning went by in a blur. Arwen was dressed, then cried so hard about her banana already being peeled that she threw up on her dress. Petal was a prima-donna about her outfits because she’d arranged to wear the same color as Jordan, then had a meltdown when Dred refused to let her bring the Christmas tree to Miami with them. Pixie was in knots about Lia’s dress, such that it was packed and repacked approximately thirty-seven times.

  By 9:15, their ride, a minivan because limousines no longer had the trunk space their cargo needed, pulled up at the private airfield next to Toronto Pearson Airport. Ten minutes later, they were inside the terminal. Nik and family were already there.

  “Uncle Jordan,” Petal cried as she went flying toward him. “I thought you said you would wear blue like I am?” Dred left Jordan to figure it out and pushed Arwen in her stroller.

  Elliott and his brood filed in behind them.

  “Look at all this shit,” Elliott said, throwing three cases and a backpack next to the huge pile of luggage, car seats, strollers, portable baby cribs, coats, and gift bags. “What the fuck happened to us, Dred?” He placed his arm over Dred’s shoulder and shook him.

  Dred couldn’t help but laugh. “You fucking love it, though.”

  Elliott looked back at Daniel, who was carrying Holly, and Kendalee, who had Noah. “Not going to deny it, but damn, this is a lot of stuff for a week.”

  Dred looked at the ever-growing pile. “The next tour is going to be chaos, isn’t it?” They hadn’t toured since the accident and Lennon’s injury. Their new sound was gaining all kinds of ground, and Ryan, their manager, was pushing for a new tour. But they hadn’t signed a new record deal for their music yet. Nik had recently proposed starting his own record label with Preload as the first act to be signed, something they were all considering.