JARED (Lane Brothers Book 4)

by Kristina Weaver

  “Mom and dad can touch them if you want. They’ll probably feel better knowing you’re here to watch over them. Has the nurse talked to you about expressing your milk so we can get them fed through their feeding tubes?”

  “Ah, no, but I can—”

  “Relax, mama, we’ll get it done. For now say hello to your little ones. I’ll be back in a few to help you with the milk.”

  I nod and advance, trembling badly when I push my hand into the opening and stroke one finger over the little boy inside, grinding my teeth when his butter soft skin meets mine and shows the stark outline of his little veins.

  “He’s the eldest. He’s small but bigger than the other two,” Lucian murmurs, smiling down softly at his firstborn.

  “Lucian.”

  “Yes, love?”

  “No. His name is Lucian,” I whisper, kissing the tip of my index finger to lay it over his chest, where his heart is beating like a hummingbird’s.

  After the nurse comes back and closes the flap, I turn to the next boy, smiling when I see the frown on his face that so resembles my own and Ben’s. This little guy will look like his dad but have my temperament, God help us all.

  “Cameron.”

  I touch him with more fear than I had his big brother because he looks so small and fragile I’m terrified he’ll disintegrate beneath my touch, but the little champ curls his tiny finger around my pinky, and I could swear he squeezes it reassuringly before going back to sleep.

  “Cammy would like that, love.”

  “Yeah. It’s the best I could do, since she was planning on naming one of them River or Rain or some such crap.”

  He snorts and pushes me forward, his face brilliant and eager to get me moving.

  “Come and see, love. You won’t believe.”

  He’s so excited it’s all I can do to stumble over and peer inside.

  “A girl?”

  “Yeah, she’s a tough one, this little thing. Just as strong as her mum, and look! I think she has your weird toes,” he murmurs, running a delicate finger over the barely there appendages.

  She’s so delicate I can’t even see toenails.

  “Aw, look at her tiny little mouth. And look, Luc, she’s pursing her lips just like you! Crap, she’s probably gonna be a daddy’s girl.”

  That makes his chest puff out so much he looks like a rooster before he becomes serious again and looks back at me, his eyes shining brightly.

  “Name, Mum?”

  Well, crapsickles. I never looked at girl names, since I was convinced his super Hulk sperm had filled me with boys.

  “Uh, I don’t have one. Unless you wanna name her Carter?”

  “I was hoping we could name her Jewel, if you don’t mind too much.”

  No, I say, I don’t mind at all. It’s perfect and sweet and makes me smile just to know that the guy is gaga over three babies that look like little alien dolls.

  “You can tell me now,” I say, looking up and into his shining blue eyes. “I mean, I’ve given you five kids and an endless supply of baked goods, so I think I’ve earned it. Don’t you?”

  “Yes, love, you really have,” he murmurs, taking me in his arms right there in the middle of the room with our slumbering infants and the giggling nurses watching. “I love you, Ashley Jasper, with everything that I am. I always have, love, and I bloody always will.”

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Three months later

  “Look at Aunty Cammy, Cameron. That’s a good lad. Who’s your favorite aunty in the whole wide world? Of course it’s me. Who loves her little Cammy most in the world? Yes, right again! I do!”

  I roll my eyes at the infuriatingly adorable woman and hoist Lucky, AKA Luc Junior, up and onto my hip and continue to ice the cupcakes for Mad’s birthday party with the other.

  “You’re so adorable I just want to eat your face!” she keeps saying in a voice that makes me smile, till I realize what she keeps saying to my kid.

  “Stop saying that to my son, thank you very much. You’re going to scare him half to death, you nut,” Luc growls, carrying his tutu-ed little princess in and cozying up behind me for a long kiss to my neck.

  “Hello, Mummy. I think my Jewel needs a diaper change.”

  “You’re gonna have to get over this and change her sometime, you know.”

  Luc is a stellar dad and doesn’t hesitate to change poopy diapers or feed the little monsters, but when it comes to Jewel he won’t go near her nappy on pain of death. He says fathers should be here to pamper their little darlings, not have a coronary knowing that they’re actually girls.

  I think he thinks that if he pretends that Jewel is a Barbie doll he’ll actually sleep nights instead of worrying about the future and boys. I still laugh my ass off every time, but seriously, it’s pissing me off that he gets to do the good diapers while I’m stuck with the nuclear pooper every time.

  “What’s the big deal, old chap?” Cammy asks, blowing raspberries on Cam’s tummy. “You do everything else.”

  “Yeah,” I snort. “Including turning me onto my side while I’m asleep and putting a kid on my boob without my knowledge! I almost had a freaking heart attack.”

  “I don’t like the thought of them on bottles!”

  “Yeah? Well, are your nipples chapped? Swear to God, I ask for one night so shit can heal, and I have Mr Milk over here pimping me out like a Red Light super cow.”

  And I’d expressed enough for the night, so he’s got no excuse except his claim that boobs are better than bottles.

  “Geez, I said I was sorry, love,” he grumbles, holding Jewel away from his body. “Please? She smells like she ate a corpse for breakfast and followed it with rotten cabbage.”

  “Give her here, you big baby. Come to Mama, honey, and let’s go clean that explosion. Daddy’s just a big ole meanie, isn’t he?”

  But Daddy turns out to be right, when I open the nuclear reactor and get a load of what my kid is capable of.

  “Gross, Juju. Just gross.”

  ***

  “Okay, Ash, you can do this,” I mutter into the mirror as I smooth my hands down the short, lacy nightgown and take deep breaths.

  I am so not used to seducing men—hah! What an understatement—but since my husband has decided to play dumb and pretend he doesn’t need sex, well, I suppose I can try it for a change.

  The problem is that I’m not exactly back in shape since giving birth, and I’m a bit self-conscious about the few stretch-marks and the slight tummy I still have. Maybe I should wait and give myself some time to get my body back.

  My vagina disagrees, though, so here I am, getting ready to tease my guy into losing control and doing me. Damn, I should’ve asked one of the girls how to be sexy.

  “Love? Are you okay in there?”

  The sound of his voice so close to the door makes me jump, and I squeak, biting my lip and glancing at the door with a grimace.

  “Yeah! Uh, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Okay, Rocky, here goes. All you gotta do is run your fat ass up those stairs without tripping, and then you can do your victory dance.

  With a last look at the mirror, I take a deep breath and head out of the bathroom, doing my best to seem confident even as nerves scream through every inch of my body.

  He’s sitting up in bed, frowning at something on his phone, when I stop at the foot of it and wait. It takes him a while, and by the time he finally looks up I’ve got my hand on my hip and my foot is tapping like Thumper’s.

  “Jesus, took you long enough.”

  A laugh bubbles up when he freezes and gulps, his blue eyes glued to my breasts where the lacy bodice glides over them, showcasing my already hard nipples.

  “You like?” I purr, twirling slowly and looking over my shoulder with a come hither look that has the desired effect.

  Oh yeah, he most definitely likes, I think, laughing hysterically when he grabs my arm and hauls me onto the bed, his larger frame caging me in as he pushes up and looks down at
me, his eyes so heated they look like molten blue pools of shimmering lust.

  “Oh yes, love, I like. A lot,” he growls, pinning my hands beside my head and taking a long, leisurely glance down my body, from my full breasts down to the V between my legs and back again. “Are you sure you’re ready for this? I can wait—”

  “The doctor said I’m good to go, and I swear to God, if you make me wait another day, I’ll wait till you’re sleeping and just do you myself.”

  “Saucy minx. Now shut up and kiss me.”

  Luc

  The feel of her lips and her luscious body trembling beneath me is a heaven I’ve waited months for. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be insensitive, but you try watching breasts that are yours being commandeered by three insatiable infants—and you can’t join the party—and you’ll know just how bloody relieved I am that my love has finally given me the green light.

  “Oh, Lucian, that feels so good,” she moans, thrusting her slick sex onto my thigh and rubbing her moisture all over my heated skin.

  The action makes my already stiff erection swell harder, and I groan, giving her the pressure she needs while grabbing the bodice of her little nightie and ripping it down the center.

  When her breasts pop free and jiggle, spilling drops of moisture over her chest, I can’t hold back and lower my head, letting off a moan of my own when the sweet taste of milk spills free and hits my tongue.

  “You taste so good, love.”

  I lick and suck at her, flicking at her nipples and biting gently till she’s a writhing mess beneath me, her juices flowing so copiously I smell her scenting the very air around me.

  The scent intensifies my need, and I pull back with a snarl, coming to my knees between her thighs to look down and see the evidence of the love and lust I’m lucky enough to inspire in my woman.

  The sight of her, all pink and glistening, is my cue to thrust all eleven inches into her waiting body. I don’t, and not because I’m not hard enough to hammer in bloody nails at this point, but because no matter how desperate my cock is for that connection, my heart and possessive instincts are screaming at me to claim her in every way, hands, mouth, and dick.

  “Lucian, what are you doing?! Please!” she wails, trying to drag me up and over her body, her sex pushing upward in a plea to be filled.

  “Need to taste you, love. Waited so long,” I groan, using her hands in mine to widen her thighs before lowering my head and swiping my tongue out for that first, perfect taste.

  It’s everything I remember and so much more, so much richer now that her body has filled out with motherhood. I groan and fall on her, attacking every inch of her slit with my tongue and teeth.

  I’m wild and less gentle with her than I’d like to be, but it’s been too long, and now that I have her beneath me again I can’t find the control to give her the tenderness that she needs.

  “So good. So good,” I mutter into her flesh, using the very tip of my tongue to flick at her bud and coax another stream of moisture from her. The contact makes her groan louder, and she shoves her hands into my hair, pulling at the strands as she pushes me in closer and rides my face, her starving sex seeking the fulfilment I haven’t given her in too many long months.

  “Oh God, harder, please.”

  I obey because how can I not? When have I ever been able to deny her anything she’s needed?

  I keep my mouth on her, savoring every swipe of my tongue, till she seizes up beneath me and climaxes, giving me the ultimate gift of her pleasure.

  “Lucian! Aah, stop. Too much,” she breathes, trying to push me away from her contracting clit.

  I relent and sit up on my haunches, my body trembling with the need to cover her and thrust in until every inch is enveloped in her.

  Slow, Luc. Her body still has some healing to do, mate, I caution myself, coming down over her slowly, my arms surrounding her as I thrust gentle fingers into her hair, holding her still for a slow, indulgent kiss that makes my dick threaten to spew if I don’t get a move on already.

  “Do you have any idea how very much I love you?” I ask, lining myself up to sink into her body slowly, gently.

  She murmurs her delight and slips her tongue over my lips, her own smiling mouth meeting mine for an erotic kiss that has me thrusting involuntarily till every inch is buried to the hilt.

  “I love you more,” she gasps, digging her short nails into my arse, her undulating hips begging me to move or go deeper, anything but the complete stillness I’m torturing her with.

  “Not possible,” I grunt, pulling back to glide in, my pace as unhurried as hers is hard. “I’m obsessed with you.”

  It’s true. I think of her and our children every waking minute, even at work or when I’m negotiating a multimillion dollar deal. I crave her like nothing I have ever craved in this world, and spend even my sleeping hours dreaming of her soft skin and snarky sarcasm.

  If any had told me months ago that I would love my wife so completely I would have laughed and spit in their eye, assuring them that I had no need to love a woman who’d betrayed me once, and yet here I am, half mad with the need to possess every inch of her.

  “Harder. Please,” she begs, squeezing my hips to speed up my thrusts. I won’t, though, not until she gives me what I want.

  “You know what I’m waiting for, love,” I groan, pulling back and repeating my languid entry.

  “I’m yours. Always!” she yells, moaning out her words when I give her what she wants and start thrusting harder, faster, trying to get so far inside she’ll never be rid of me.

  I want her to carry my scent. Inside and out. I want her so full of me that no other will mistake my ownership. Barbaric, I know, but it’s what I need in order to function normally and get my job done when I can’t be right next to her where I want to be.

  “That’s it, love. Yes, hold me,” I moan when she starts contracting around me, her climax setting off my own as I let go and release inside her, marking her in the most primitive way possible.

  When she’s replete and snuggled safely into my side, I allow the peace I’ve been seeking to take hold and savor my own feelings of bliss. Only one thing can mar the perfection of this moment, and that’s the guilt I feel knowing that I’m deceiving my love.

  After that harrowing experience and the near loss I’d felt three months ago I’d done the only thing I could and booked myself in for a vasectomy. Knowing Ash, and knowing my needs to claim, I’d had it done for peace of mind.

  Here’s the thing: I love my wife and would die without her, no matter how much the children mean to me. To that end I’ve safeguarded not only her but my state of mind by ensuring that she will never again be at risk and that, bar something bad happening, I will have her for eternity.

  I will do anything to keep her.

  Anything.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  I keep getting this weird, tingly feeling all down my spine, the same one I’d had the day my mom died, and the exact same one I’d been getting the day Wesley had stormed the house and ripped me from the safety of my haven.

  But I’m not giving in to the paranoia my husband seems to thrive on—yeah, I know the guy got himself snipped and isn’t telling me, since I’m pretty well acquainted with his dick, and he’s definitely had something done.

  I’m not as mad at him as I should be because the reasonable part of my mind finds it incredibly sweet that a man like him would let a sharp implement near his boy just to ensure I’m never knocked up again.

  I could have fought it and demanded he have it reversed, but I won’t. If this is what the nut needs to stay sane and confident in me, I’ll give it to him, even if I hate it.

  Now back to the weird feelings. They’re so strong that I’ve had all five kids and myself at the doctor’s to make extra sure nothing is wrong with anyone, and I even convinced Luc to go for a check-up under the guise of my ‘I’m just trying to make sure the kids don’t catch anything from either of us’.


  We’re all healthy as horses.

  “That’s some strange hoodoo you got going on, sweetheart. Maybe you should go see the psychic my sister has me going to.”

  “Seriously, Brit? I don’t believe in that nonsense. Nah, I just think I’m having a hard time since the triplets have started teething and Luc is still in Germany.”

  “Geez, you need to stop being so clingy and get out of the house a little. Come to a Golden lunch and leave the Terribles with the housekeeper for an hour.”

  “No. they’d have the poor woman run ragged in ten minutes, and you know it. Lucky got into the flour yesterday, something he shouldn’t have done since the kid can’t walk yet. I think my kids have super powers and are working for evil. Either that or they’re just plain evil. And I’m not even going to tell you what daddy’s little princess is doing. Next time he goes away on business I’m hiding that little monster in his luggage.”

  I spend another ten minutes hearing her laugh her ass off and swear off ever having ankle biters, and ring off to go check on the Terribles, when the doorbell rings.

  “Hi, Ash, just brought you the mail. Frank said to tell you Ben’s got a soccer practice today and he’ll get him from school.”

  “Thanks, Pete.”

  The mail is not something I usually go through, since Luc pays the bills and takes care of RSVPs and other stuff, so I’m mystified when I see a large, brown envelope with my name on it at the top of the pile.

  I shouldn’t have opened it, I think ten minutes later when I almost fall flat on my ass as pain hits my chest and robs me of breath.

  Inside are at least a dozen photos of Luc going into a hotel, a leggy blonde hanging on his arm, her lustful gaze staring up at him adoringly.

  I want to disbelieve the pictures and write it off to his old life when he was a good for nothing playboy with more dick than brains, but the time and date stamps in the corner are irrefutable proof that my adoring husband spent last night with a woman who is most definitely not his wife.