by Alexa Riley
“Don’t get me wrong, Cherry, I love seeing you here, but what in the ever loving fuck are you wearing right now?”
Looking down at my outfit, I have no clue what he is talking about. I have on black yoga pants, a sports bra with a pink baby tee on over it and sneakers. I still have a few pounds I would like to drop since the baby got here, so it’s not like I’m running around in skimpy workout clothes or something. I feel like this I’m a lot more covered than what I’ve seen other women work out in. Not that other women work out here. This is mainly an all-male gym because Carter says women distract the men, which is clearly true for him with me.
“Yoga pants?” I say, more as a question than an answer, not understanding what could possibly be wrong with my clothes.
“That what you call these things? It’s like a second skin.” He pushes me back so I fall flat against his desk. He reaches under my ass and pulls them off, taking my underwear and shoes with them.
“Yeah, naked is clearly better,” I say, wanting it to come out snappy but it comes out all breathy. My legs fall even farther apart, giving Carter an even better view of my pussy.
“You don’t show off my shit to other men, Cherry. Now I gotta remind you who you belong to…or is that what you wanted? To come to the gym and get a rise out of me so I would give you a good fucking? Am I not giving you enough, Cherry? You need more cock, baby?” he asks. He grabs my thighs and pulls me to the edge of the desk.
Carter is only wearing basketball shorts and I can clearly see the bulge of his cock through them. Reaching inside them, he gives a little tug and his cock springs free. Then he’s on me, caging me in, his chest to mine. Before I can respond his hand is over my mouth, his lips next to my ear, his cock dragging against my clit. I feel my pussy contract, jealous of the attention my clit is getting from his cock. I moan into his hand.
“You’re going to be a good girl and take my cock. I’m going to fuck you so hard the desk is going to pound against the wall. Everyone out in that gym is going to know I’m fucking my woman in here, but you don’t make a fucking peep while I do it. You got that, Cherry? They don’t get to hear your passion.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. I feel his other hand reach down between us, guiding his cock into me, then he thrusts to the hilt in one long hard motion. God, I love when he gets possessive of me. What could make a woman feel more beautiful than having a man who thinks you’re so perfect that everyone must want you like he does. Closing my eyes tightly to try to stop myself from moaning, I make a mental note to buy more yoga pants.
Approximately 5 years later
“I can’t believe you did this to me again,” I whisper up at the white ceiling.
“Cherry, baby, I can’t help it. You make the most beautiful babies, but I promise this is the last time. I can’t do this labor shit anymore,” he says, kneeling next to the table. Turning my head so we are eye-to-eye, I give him a death glare that gets me a half-smile. He’s always nervous when it’s time for me to give birth, but this will be the last time.
All my babies have been C-sections. My little body can’t seem to push Carter-size boys out of it on its own. We’ve had two boys already, and now we’re about to have two more. I told him one more baby, one more. What does Carter do? He shows me by knocking me up with twins – boys. I only agreed on the third pregnancy because I wanted my little girl, but now here I am about to bring two more boys into this world. I don’t know what I’m going to do with all this testosterone that will be running around our house now.
“We already agreed this was the last, Carter.”
Leaning in, he kisses me on my cheek. “I know, baby.”
“This is so unfair! I mean, Jeanette has had two girls. Two! And I bet the one she’s got in there now is a girl too. I just know it.” I pout and resume glaring at Carter as if he really can control the sex of our babies. The doctor told us with each pregnancy being a boy, the odds actually go down for ever getting a girl. When I heard that statistic I knew I was done trying. I’ll just be stuck in a house with men for the rest of my life. Little C is only four and he already growls like his father.
“All right, Layla, we’re going to start now. In just a few moments your babies will be here,” I hear the doctor say but I keep my eyes on Carter. Even though we’ve done this twice before I know he’s on edge. He always is when it comes to the kids and me.
“We still going with Michael and Samuel for the boys’ names?” I ask, trying to get his mind working on something else while the doctor works.
“It’s perfect, baby, just perfect. You gave me these babies. You can name them anything you want and I would love it.”
A cry breaks out into the room and makes a tear slip down my cheek
“Baby boy number one is here,” the doctor announces.
Carter smiles bigger and kisses the tear that slipped out.
“It’s for the best, baby. Could you imagine a little girl running around our house already having me and two big brothers? Might as well send her to a convent.”
I can’t help but snort at that. No, I’m not sure how a little girl would have worked out with us but I think she would have had everyone wrapped around her finger.
“Not going to lie though, baby, it would have been cute to have a little girl that looked just like you… as long as she didn’t have the red hair. I probably would have never let her out of the house.”
“Five pounds and two ounces,” I hear a nurse call out. Another cry pierces the room and I know the second baby is here.
“Well, this isn’t common but it looks like baby number two is a girl and not a boy after all.”
Carter jumps up from his kneeling position and his whole face goes slack.
“Carter,” is all I can choke out, and his eyes come back to mine before he brings his hand to his face to rub his eyes. “She’s got red fucking hair, Cherry.”
My whole face breaks out into a smile. “We’ll call her, Mary,” I say.
Dropping his hand from his eyes, he stares at me and I can see his eyes are shining. No tears escape but I see all his emotions on his face. “After my mom,” he whispers. “It’s perfect.”
Approximately 18 years later
“I don’t care if it’s Jeanette and Saint’s only son, I swear to God, I’ll snap that little prick’s neck,” Carter growls, pacing beside the foot of the bed.
Mary is graduating this year and finally picked the college she’ll be attending in the fall. It wasn’t a week later that Jeanette and Saint’s son announced he would be attending the same school. This isn’t shocking news to me. I’ve seen the way he looks at Mary. It’s more than a young man’s lust, it’s adoration.
Setting my book down on the end table next to the bed, I just watch him. It’s best to let him stomp around a little before to help settle him down. Almost twenty-five years I’ve been with this man and I know the two things that work him up most are me and his daughter. He was so scared of being a father to a little girl but he is perfect at it. Because of Carter I know Mary understands what a good man is. She has a shining example of one for a father. Carter might be rough around the edges, but he would do anything for me and that is what I know she sees every day. Carter would crawl through glass if I asked him to do it.
These big gruff men seem badass, but when it comes to their woman it’s a whole new ball game.
“Carter, come here,” I say, tossing the blanket off my lap so he can lay his head there, his skin against mine. That always seems to work best.
Crawling onto the bed he drops his head in my lap and I can feel the tension leave his body.
“She’ll be fine. I promise. It’s time.” Closing his eyes, he doesn’t respond and I just stroke his buzzed hair. “I believe I was sixteen when something locked me into being yours.”
“That was different,” he growls and tries to get back up, but I stop him with the lightest touch that brings his head back into my lap.
“Carter, I remember the look, and t
hat boy has the same one you did,” I remind him, trying to get him to see it too. They might be young but I was younger when I fell in love with him.
“He’s a good boy,” I continue. “We would be lucky if they fell in love and ended up together. No one would treat her better.” It’s true and he knows it. He’s just having a hard time letting go. Our babies are all leaving the nest. That boy has followed Mary around since they both started crawling. It was like they were born to be together. I want their love story to be different than ours. I love Carter’s and mine, but it took pain and blood to get here and we raised our family to be different. Their love story could be simpler than ours because we made it that way for them. They won’t have to fight for it like we did. We already did that for them.
“Let them be. Think about the positive. Just you and me in this big old warehouse again. I can go back to walking around naked,” I tease. He’s always complaining that there isn’t enough of me walking around naked. This is a complaint he makes often and loudly. I’ve heard people say attraction and lust cool after time, but Carter’s has never lessened for even a moment. There has never been a time in the past twenty-five years that I didn’t think Carter wanted me.
Growling in typical Carter fashion, he flips me onto my back in moments, looming over me.
“Kiss me,” I whisper against his lips.
“That’s my line, Cherry,” he says, and takes my lips.
Sneak Peek of
TAKING THE FALL
VOL 4
JEANETTE
“Back up, motherfucker!” I feel like my heart is pounding out of my chest as I point the gun at the door. Not again…never again. I won’t let this happen to me again.
“Jeanette!” a man yells. As soon as I see his face my eyes start water. The gun in my hand waivers for a second, but I train it back on him.
“I said back up!” I scream, and both men stop instantly. I try to steady the gun, but I feel like I’m seeing double. I must have hit my head harder than I realized.
“Where’s Layla?” the shaved-head one demands. I squeeze the gun tight, trying to get the shaking to stop but it isn’t working. They are both big motherfuckers. I don’t want them to see my fear. Men use your fear against you. You’ve done this before, Jeanette, you can do it again. Them or me. With that thought, I feel the gun steady.
I don’t care if I’m only wearing a sheet. If I look like I’m in control and that I know how to handle a gun, then they’ll stay back.
“Mama, listen to me. It’s me, baby. It’s Saint and Carter. We aren’t going to hurt you. We are here to save you. Put the gun down and come here.”
I shake my head. Do I know them? It doesn’t matter right now.
“Put your guns down. I don’t trust anyone right now.”
The one with shoulder-length hair puts his gun down and kicks it away.
He drops to his knees. I feel like I’ve seen him like this before. I can see unshed tears in his eyes. I’ve never seen a man look like he is about to cry, like he’s ready to kill, but I can tell his anger isn’t towards me.
I wrack my brain for a memory I know I’m missing.
“Come here, Mama. You know how much I love being on my knees in front of you.” At his words, it clicks.
“Can I ask you a personal question? Shot or beer?”
I glance over at the man next to me at the bar. I didn’t even notice him sit down. But the Kat House is always crazy-loud. It’s often hard to even hear yourself think in here, but thinking isn’t why I come. He looks completely out of place, but a free drink is a free drink.
“Sure. Tequila…the good stuff.” He motions for the bartender and orders our shots. I swivel in my chair to get a better look at him. He’s definitely not my type. In fact he’s the type I try to stay away from for good reason, the type that taught me it’s best to stick with the bad boys. The clean-cut boys hide who they really are, and this one is as clean-cut as they come. From his short sandy-blond hair to his blue eyes and three-piece suit, he couldn’t look more boring. He has to be the only person in this place wearing a suit.
His eyes sweep over me and he licks his lips. The thought of his lips on me makes me squirm inside. I’m not sure if it’s him or what he represents that causes the feeling, or the fact that I can’t seem to get Saint out of my head. I came here tonight to find a quick hook-up. It’s been too long. Since I had my sights set on Saint I hadn’t given any other man even a thought. But after his quick dismissal of me I was done with him. I was all dolled up and ready to go, and he just dropped me a quick text ‘Sorry, Mama. I can’t make it tonight’. Not even a ‘Let’s meet up some other time’. The little pet name he used on me, ‘Mama’, was starting to piss me off too. At first I thought it was something he just used on me but given how casually he blew me off I’m probably just on a long list of women he has on rotation. I can’t see a man like Saint having to try very hard to get a woman. In fact I had to go after him at first. Fuck him. I may not hook up with pretty boy here, but I’m sure I can find something around here.
Lays seemed to be enjoying all the attention tonight. She even seemed like she was drunk, which is rare for her. I should try to catch up.
Steve, the regular bartender, drops the two shot glasses down in front of us, making some of the liquor splash out onto the wooden bar top. He eyes the guy who ordered them and shoots me a look. I just shrug. I know he’s thinking the same thing I am. What’s pretty boy doing here? I grab my shot, not waiting for him to take it with me, and down it. The less interaction I have with him the faster he’ll leave, and I can find someone else.
“Damn, baby! No limes or nothing? That’s pretty hot. I like a woman who can handle her liquor. Two more!” he shouts over to Steve.
“I’m not your baby,” I tell him, swiveling in my chair so I’m not facing him anymore. I look in the mirror that hangs over the bar to see if Lays is back from her smoke break but I don’t see her. Suddenly Saint catches my eye. He’s staring right at me. When he used to come into the library where Lays and I work I thought he had a thing for her. He was always watching her. But after a while I noticed he only watched her. Dispassionately. Objectively. Whenever his eyes came to me, he always had a different look on his face. A hungry look. He stood out in the library like pretty boy next to me stands out in here. His dark shoulder-length hair makes him look like he just rolled out of bed. With who I’m not sure, and I sure as fuck don’t want to know. The spark of jealousy that zips through me is a shock. I don’t get jealous. I don’t need to. If a guy doesn’t want me, fine, I’m on to the next, not that I let them stay around long enough to be done with me. That’s what’s great about the bad boys. They want the same thing I do.
He cocks his head to the side, making eye contact with me in the mirror and his whole face breaks out in a grin, causing the scar on the side of his face to crinkle. I don’t know what it is about that scar but every time I see it I want to lick it, lick him. I feel pretty boy lean down and whisper in my ear.
“Come on, baby, don’t be like that.”
I keep my eyes locked on Saint and watch the smile drop from his face. The click of the new shots being dropped down in front of me makes me snap my eyes away from him. I reach for the shot knowing I’m going to need it if I have to share the bar with Saint tonight. If I see him hit on another woman I might lose it. All this dancing around each other for weeks is getting old and I’m over it. At least that’s what I tell myself. Before I can grab the shot Saint is picking it up from over my shoulder and shooting it back. I forget how tall he is sometimes. I’m not short by any means. I’m about five eight, and in heels I always reach six foot. Still, Saint towers over me, but never once have I felt intimidated around him. In fact pretty boy scares me more than him.
“What the fuck?” the suit barks at Saint. Saint just gives him a look that could probably kill, and the man lifts his hands and backs away. Placing a hand on each side of the bar, he cages me in. I look back up into the mirror so I can
see his face. My back leans into his chest as if it has a mind of its own. Like it belongs there.
“Mama,” he whispers into my ear, and it makes me clench my jaw. I’m sure he notices. He seems to notice everything.
“I wasn’t done with him yet and you owe me a shot,” I say, smirking at him in the mirror.
“One, I want you sober for what I have planned for you, and two, you don’t need him. You have me,” he whispers in my ear before taking my lobe into his mouth.
“Maybe I don’t want you anymore,” I moan, pissed at myself for letting it come out like that.
“Not a man in the place that’ll do what I’m willing to do for you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, Mama”
“And what would you do for me?”
“Any fucking thing you asked.”
Spinning in my chair to face him, I stand up, making him take a step back. “That so…Daddy?” Hey, if he’s going to call me Mama, two can play this game. He looks down at me, taking in what I have on: a short dress that shows off my legs in all their glory. I may not have curves like a lot of girls but I have killer legs. I see him visibly swallow.
I love that I affect him like this.
“I don’t know what to make of you, Saint. One second you say the most perfect things and the next...well, I just don’t know,” I tell him. It’s true. Sometimes he looks at me and I know that he wants me. Then other times he can get that deadly look in his face.
“Mama, you let me have you and I’ll be a docile fucking kitten that will eat out of your hand.”
I can’t help but smile at his words. I wonder if they’re true. Would Saint let me have my way with him? I can’t see a man like him letting me tie him to the bed or dropping to his knees. I don’t always like to be in control but sometimes it can be fun. A lot of men won’t give up that control.