It was the first time he’d said it, and the fact he’d said it with witnesses present made it impossible for Rosita to dismiss the claim. Words and tears clogged her throat; she couldn’t do anything but shake her head.
“Tú eres una buena mujer y tú serás una buena madre, la madre de mis hijos. Estoy muy alegro que tú seas la madre de mis hijos, chica, muy alegro,” Ulrich whispered against her mouth.
Rosita knew he’d asked someone, probably her father, how to say that in Spanish, because while Ulrich knew enough to be conversational, that speech sounded too practiced to be off the cuff. Nevertheless, she was still touched by the effort, that he wanted her to know in her co-native tongue how he felt about their upcoming parenthood. She wasn’t just some chick he’d happened to knock up and would now do right by, he was truly glad.
“Oh, baby,” she managed to squeeze out her throat, cupping the back of his head with both of her hands.
“Casarte conmigo, por favor,” he continued, his voice trembling with the request. “Marry me.”
She let her forehead settle against his and allowed the tears to flow freely down her cheeks. Ulrich rubbed her abdomen, as if their child could give him the strength to withstand any answer she gave.
“What if I say no?” Rosita asked.
“Then I will just ask again,” Ulrich promised. “Just so you know, nobody else is being a father to my child but me, you understand?”
Well, damn! Rosita had to laugh a little. “I am not an easy woman, Ulrich.”
“No quiero fácil, chica, te quiero,” he insisted.
“Lawd, Jesus, tell the man yes!”
Both Ulrich and Rosita turned to see a sobbing Bevin glaring at them, Tim grinning as he calmed down his wife with gentle words whispered against her temple. Kerry, perfectly comfortable against his mother’s chest, raised a golden hand and nodded. “Roro!”
Nuzzling her tears away with his cheek, Ulrich whispered in her ear. “Even our godson approves, Rosa.”
It certainly seemed that way. “When would this happen?”
“Hell, we could get married Saturday. There’s no waiting period in Virginia.”
“That soon?” Rosita asked.
“The sooner the better,” Ulrich said, standing and helping her to her feet also. He wrapped his arms around her and she settled her cheek against his shoulder. “As outdated as the thought may be, I would like for you to be my wife when you birth my child, not just my baby’s mama.”
“We still have months to go—”
“We might get shipped out,” Ulrich reminded her quietly in her ear.
Rosita tightened her arms around him and looked at Bevin and Tim. She spoke silently to her best friend, who nodded her dark head and settled further into her husband’s embrace.
It’s so worth it.
To be honest, Rosita had never wanted a huge wedding, and all the really important people were here. Tamara and Courtney would understand; hell, they’d been gnats in her ear asking her why she and Ulrich hadn’t made it official yet. Even Patrice had seemed supportive, although their relationship was strained because of their obvious common denominator being Ulrich; but Patrice was happy with her new man, at least seemed to be, helped by the fact her parents were happy with him as well.
Patrice made her decision.
It was time for Rosita to make one as well.
“Your heart is safe with me,” she ensured him, her mouth next to his ear.
Ulrich chuckled, bringing her closer. “That’s good. What about my hand?”
“Your hand?”
“Yeah, baby, will that be safe with you too? Will you let me have yours in return?”
She didn’t answer immediately, taking his hands and settling them on her belly before covering them with hers.
Rosita looked into those glorious black eyes of Ulrich’s and smiled.
“Yes.”
One Evening
Rosita hadn’t been this nervous…ever. Not even her first time had filled her with such knee-freezing trepidation. She closed her eyes as she felt Ulrich move behind her, unable to stop her body from quaking when his soft, full lips touched the curve of her bare shoulder while he pulled down the zipper of her strapless, ecru organza dress.
“Tú eres tan hermosa, chica,” he whispered against her trembling cinnamon skin. “You make me breathless.”
That feeling was certainly mutual, and she sagged against him, his tender hands moving along the front of her gaping gown, kneading her tummy. It was now eight-months big, and their child was still, as if knowing they needed a moment to themselves.
A moment to consummate their wedded union.
Rosita raised her arms and wound them around his neck as he moved his mouth up the column of her throat to her jaw. His hands pushed down the wealth of fabric covering her body, revealing her silk strapless bra and her silk bikini panties. She watched his toasted-almond hands drift over the darker brown of her abdomen, the gold of his ring on his left hand glinting faintly in the room. His tongue snaked out to tease her pulse point and her breath caught.
“Ulrich…”
“Yes, Mrs. Brown?”
Rosita’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, her nipples growing tighter at the use of her new title. Mrs. Brown. She never knew being called a Mrs. Somebody would sound so erotic.
His hands left her stomach to unhook her bra. Ulrich moaned, cupping her breasts gently in his hands.
“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, right before kissing her cheek.
Rosita didn’t care he was still fully dressed and she was only in her panties and thigh-highs, she’d never felt so beautiful in her entire life, and her earlier anxiousness melted into full-out arousal.
“Look at what I did to you,” Ulrich muttered, bending his head over her shoulder so he could glimpse her swell. “Look at what I did, Rosa.”
She turned her head and kissed hair of the goatee lining his jaw. “Look at what you did, Daddy.”
Groaning, Ulrich met her lips with his, his fingers sliding beneath the elastic of her panties, over the bald mons of her vagina, to her well-saturated slit. His thick fingers thrummed her clit, and Rosita rocked against the rhythm he set.
“So wet for me,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Tan mojada por ti,” Rosita agreed.
He nipped her upper lip as he let his finger slip inside her. She clamped around the digit and both of them hissed.
“Este es mia,” he mumbled against her cheek.
“Sí, la es tuya.”
His fingers lingered for another moment, then he removed them from between her legs, making her mew in protest. He kissed her shoulder again before standing in front of her, his eyes hooded and heady with a heat that set her ablaze. This was much different from how he’d looked at her earlier, during their small wedding at the Founders Inn and Spa on Virginia Beach. Ulrich, with all his infinite wisdom, had booked the date far in advance of her ever agreeing to be his wife. So assured, so cocky, that he’d reserved December 31st for their wedding; and because the justice of the peace and his commanding officer went way back, he’d managed to have their vows read upon the clock striking midnight. She welcomed the New Year not only with a kiss, but with a new husband; and had she not been so busy crying and being moved, she would’ve cussed him out for his arrogance.
But now, that reverential look entered his eyes again, the same look that had been there when he’d recited his vows to her, and Ulrich sank to his knees. Never breaking his gaze, he rolled down the thigh-high stockings she wore, kissing her knees, then her thighs, once they were bared. He buried his face into her abdomen and kissed her tummy, and the baby pushed back in reply.
“I’m going to love your mother, now,” he whispered against Rosita’s belly button. “Hope we don’t disturb you too badly!”
Rosita laughed, raking her nails gently along his head, the short hairs of his head feeling good against her fingertips. Ulrich groaned and leaned back, his
eyes rolling in their sockets with pleasure.
“What you do to me,” he murmured, and Rosita smiled.
“Love you,” she replied.
He grinned. “Damn straight you do.”
Ulrich eased her into a sitting position on the bed, then stripped out of his tuxedo. Her mouth went dry as her eyes drank in every muscular curve of his toned body. Her lips tingled with the urge to kiss and suck the light-caramel hue off his skin, and she slid her hand over her belly back between her legs.
“Fuck, Rosa,” he muttered.
She grinned and spread her legs wider, making sure he could see her slim fingers dancing along her drenched passage.
“You are so damn beautiful,” Rosita said to him. “Mi esposo es tan guapo, virilo, y masculino.”
Ulrich licked his lips and shucked out of his pants and underwear, leaving him fantastically nude to her greedy gaze. The long, hard, thick length of him jutted from the patch of inky curly hair below his stomach, and his hands closed around it, stroking. Her pussy clenched around her fingers in anticipation, wanting that inside instead of its paltry substitution. Her left hand dug into her thigh, the half-carat diamond of her platinum engagement ring, settled atop her platinum wedding band, twinkling in the muted light of the suite.
He came closer, though he didn’t stop stroking himself. When he kneeled before her, her fingers stopped moving, frozen at the prospect of his next action.
“Spread your legs,” he ordered.
Rosita almost came right then and there. She had magnificent memories of his mouth on her. Sometimes she’d be too tired for intercourse because he’d ring out multiple orgasms from her; but Ulrich was an unselfish lover, allowing her to lie there in bliss as he stroked her to yet another ecstatic plane with his cock deep within her.
Once she was wantonly displayed before him, Ulrich buried his nose into her pussy, the tip of it become saturated with her feminine dew. Rosita collapsed fully upon the bed as one of his hands kneaded the interior muscles of one of her thighs.
“You smell good,” he groaned, his cheek against the lips of her vagina. “Jesus, thank you.”
She arched herself into his face, the beginnings of her release gripping her body at the first long, lazy lick of his rough tongue. His other hand came up and splayed her wide, the cooler air of the room competing with the warmth of his breath. He kissed her gently and her clit swelled.
Ulrich chuckled. “Damn, girl! I love watching you grow.”
“Ulrich, please!” Rosita whispered frantically. She was too close for him to play around.
His tongue teased her nubbin and she arched off the bed. His thumbs played with her labia before his teeth joined the foray.
“Better than the wedding cake,” Ulrich declared. “But don’t tell Bevin that; she’d hurt me.”
Rosita didn’t know whether to laugh or scream at him to get her off; but when he sucked her pussy with the suction of a Hoover, she shouted in a language not even she knew.
“Yeah, baby,” he said with complete cockiness. “I like it when I make you scream in tongues.”
She writhed against his mouth, her orgasm whipping her to and fro on the bed. Rosita barely registered him creeping up her body, bestowing gentle kisses to the baby she carried, or the fact he took quick sucks from her nipples, before he was suddenly above her, his lips melded to hers, the head of his manhood brushing against her center.
“Look at me, Rosa,” he said upon pulling back.
She did immediately.
“Watch your husband make love to you.”
Rosita came again, and he wasn’t even good and inside her yet. Undeterred, Ulrich thrust into her hard, making her gasp as her internal muscles fluttered around his maleness.
He dropped forward, stopping himself just in time so he didn’t crush her or his baby beneath his weight. Rosita wanted to wrap her legs around his hips like she used to, but there was a belly in the way and he was pumping too fast for her to gain any real purchase. Ulrich settled his face into her chest, kissing her heart over and over again before rubbing his cheeks against her breasts.
“So fucking beautiful,” he growled into her sweat-slicked skin.
Rosita couldn’t really do anything but lie there, he was loving her so well. She had enough strength to let her hands glide over the muscles of his back to the small of it, but then he reared up so he could thrust deeper, harder, more profoundly.
His hands palmed her breasts, squeezing so her nipples ground into their centers, and Rosita felt herself leak even more. When he bent his head to suckle her, Rosita held his head to her chest and sat up enough to kiss the top of his head.
“Te amo, mi esposo,” she whispered, feeling a little ball inside her expand to supernova size. “Te adoro mucho.”
Ulrich kissed her above her heart once more, then at the center of her collarbone, the center of her throat, the underside of her jaw, the center of her chin, her mouth. He remained there, sucking her breath inside his body. Rosita framed his face to keep him from moving, and that little ball had suddenly become a giant one, exploding inside of her so she exclaimed her joy into his mouth. Seconds later, she felt the warm jets of his climax coat her insides, and Ulrich gathered his arms underneath her and gentled the force of his mouth upon hers.
“Damn, Mrs. Brown,” Ulrich gasped, nipping the point of her chin. “Damn.”
Rosita smiled, letting her fingers trail over the bridge of his nose to his mouth. “Yes, Mr. Brown?”
Ulrich’s tongue struck out to twirl around her finger, sucking on it for a moment before letting it drop out with a pop. “Holding everything back until now, eh?”
“Didn’t think you could handle it before,” Rosita said saucily.
He chuckled, moving down her body to cradle her belly. “I hope you’re all right in there. Your Mommy tends to get Daddy real excited, so he has to return the favor…”
Rosita giggled, drifting her hands along his head as Ulrich continued talking to their unborn child. She listened to the promises he made, promises Rosita knew he’d do everything in his power to keep because he was a man of honor.
And because he was a man of honor, Uncle Sam needed him.
Now.
Neither said anything or moved anything as that damnable chirp echoed through the room. Ulrich let it go for a full minute before leaving the bed to check his pager.
Rosita sat up, leaning against the headboard, amazed at the masculine beauty he possessed. Even nude with his penis semi-flaccid and a frown marring his face, Rosita thought he’d been fashioned by Dios himself, so exquisite he was to her.
Rosita saw his jaw clench, as well as his hand around the tiny machine, then he tossed the beeper onto the easy chair in the room and stood with his hands on his hips.
“Fuck.”
Rosita closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She’d be strong. She’d known when she’d started this relationship he could be called at any moment. She’d just never thought it’d be this moment, during their wedding night.
She felt him come closer, crawling over her body as he gently lowered his atop hers. He kissed her softly.
“I have to go,” he told her.
“I know,” Rosita said.
“Open those beautiful brown eyes, Rosita, chica.”
She did, smiling at his smile. He glided the backs of his fingers along her cheek and smiled wider.
“What?” Rosita asked, wondering why he grinned like that. Despite her smile, she found nothing about this situation that was pleasant.
“Thank you.”
“For the nookie before you go off?”
He glared at her and tweaked her nose. “None of that, Rosa, not right now.”
He couldn’t tell her what to do. He couldn’t tell her not to be pissed off or spoiled or scared to motherfuckin’ death about his safety.
He couldn’t tell her not to be sad.
“Rosa,” he said again, cupping her cheek, the ring on his hand cool to the touch.
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br /> “What?” she repeated, but with less bite than before.
He grinned again. “Thank you for being my somebody.”
Shit. She’d intended not to cry, but then he had to say something sweet like that. He brushed her tears away with his cheek and lips, his hands rubbing her belly soothingly.
“I’ll always be your somebody,” Rosita vowed. “Soon, you’ll have two, and I promise to give you as many more somebodies as you’d like.”
He beamed at her, then moved his mouth to her belly button. “You’re a witness, lil’ one, so when your mother starts trippin’ when she’s carrying your little brothers and sisters, I want you to remember this conversation!”
Rosita slapped his shoulder lightly at that.
Still chuckling, Ulrich kissed all over her bare stomach, murmuring “I love you, I love you,” after each buss. Rosita didn’t bother to not cry anymore, letting her husband sip the tears from her cheeks before kissing her lips once more.
“Te adoro, mi esposa,” he whispered against her mouth.
“I love you, too, Ulrich,” she replied.
He left the bed and dressed quickly. Rosita put on his wedding dress shirt and helped him pack, stealing one of his T-shirts for later use. He grinned at her.
“You tell youngin’ not to come before I get back,” Ulrich said to her, zipping up his bag after making sure he had everything.
“I will.”
He snorted. “And I bet she’ll take after you and be ornery, come all early.”
Rosita grinned. “And you’ll continue to love her…or him…”
Ulrich kissed her forehead. “You’re giving me a daughter; I can feel it.”
They walked to the door, his rolling suitcase gripped hard in his hand. Rosita leaned against him, breathing in his scent. Ulrich rested his forehead against the top of her head.
“Regrese a mi, mi esposo,” she whispered, her hand above his heart. “Regrese a nosotros.”
“I’ll do my very best,” Ulrich vowed. She pulled back so he could kiss her mouth sweetly, and with a final graze of his hand against her tummy, he went down the hall. Rosita watched him until he turned the corner, out of sight, but never out of her mind or heart.
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