I’ve always wanted a big family; three or four boys and a couple of little girls who look just like their Mom. When I told her that, Blaine’s mouth dropped open, and her eyes all but bugged out of her head. I believe her exact words were, “You are insane. As in, straight up crazy if you think I’m going to have six kids. Three, possibly four if the first three are all girls or boys, but definitely not six.”
I didn’t bother to try and change her mind. The way I figure it, if I just keep knocking her up every year or so, she’ll be too busy with our babies to worry about fighting me on it.
“How about we focus on this one before we worry about the rest, baby,” I mutter, wiping the sweat from her face.
Snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, Dr. Peters repositions the sheet draped over Blaine’s knees she placed in the stirrups a minute ago.
“Okay mommy and daddy, are you ready to meet your little man?”
“Yes,” Blaine pants, gripping the sides of the mattress.
“Fuck,” I groan, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.
What if I can’t do this? What if I’m a shit Dad? I didn’t have a good male role model in my life when I was growing into the man I am today, so what could I possibly teach my son?
“Hey,” Blaine grits out. “Are you okay, honey? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing, baby,” I lie.
“Look at me,” she demands. “It’s going to be okay. You’re the best man I know and our son is going to be lucky to have you.”
*****
Thinking back on that day, I can honestly say, I haven’t reconsidered wanting a big family. You’d think after the way I handled Blaine in labor I would have, but you’d be sorely mistaken. She’s still holding firm at three, but I’ll win her over. It shouldn’t be hard, either. Blaine is crazy about our son, Lyric Hunter Williams.
I wasn’t sold on the name originally. It took a few days, but it grew on me. And truthfully, after everything Blaine went through to get him here, the least she deserved was to be able to name him. It took twelve and a half hours, more than an hour of that pushing before our boy came into the world. He was wrinkled, red, screaming, and nothing short of perfect.
Born weighing, ten pounds five ounces, twenty-two inches long with dark hair like mine, Blaine’s nose, my chin, and Tank’s scowl, Lyric is eight weeks old now. I don’t give a shit if, on average, I get three hours sleep a night. It doesn’t even particularly bother me when the little man decides to use my T-shirts as his own personal spit-up rags. Changing shitty diapers, nighttime feeds, I’ll do it all. What I don’t like is Blaine being so busy with our kid that I barely get a look in.
Call me selfish, I am. Call me jealous, I am that too. But excuse the hell out of me if I’d occasionally like to say hello to my fiancée. To illustrate my point, it’s gotten so bad in the last week, that I’ve taken to playing phone tag with her all day just to hear her voice.
Either she’s passed out on the couch when I get home after work, bathing the human vomitron, doing laundry which, according to her, can’t wait, or she’s on the phone to one of the hundred people who calls her daily. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was trying to avoid me, but I do, and she isn’t.
“I thought I’d find you in here,” Blaine says quietly from just inside the doorway.
Tucking, Lyric close to my chest, I deposit him in his crib and pull the blankets up to underneath his cute, dimpled chin.
“Yeah. I was just making sure he stayed out this time.”
Lyric was diagnosed with severe reflux at two weeks old. Blaine was devastated when his pediatrician said she would have to stop breastfeeding and change him to thickened formula. But knowing it was best for our boy, Blaine sucked it up and got on with it like she does everything else. It took a while, a month I think, but watching Lyric improve gave her the push she needed to accept it.
“Do you feel like taking a nap with me? He should be down for a good hour or so,” she says with a smile that has me biting back a groan.
Shrugging like it’s no big deal, I ask,
“What’s in it for me?”
“I’m sure I could think of something. I’ll race you. If I win, I get two orgasms before you get yours. And if you win, you get to give me two orgasms,” Blaine proposes, spinning on her heel and taking off in the direction of our bedroom.
If she expects me to argue with her, she’s dead wrong. Because that’s a deal I can abso-fucking-lutely agree to.
EPILOGUE
~ Jonas ~
“I told Blaine one day, we will get married and have sex every day. Twenty years later, we did, and I’m still asking myself when once a week turns into every day.”
- Jonas to Cash
Five years later…
“I’m forty-five, Blaine, not fucking sixty,” I growl, staring at my wife’s delectable ass shimmy into a pair of skintight jeans. “Since when did a houseful equal three?”
Glaring at me over her shoulder, Blaine snaps,
“Since you decided it equals five, that’s when. But if you want another reason, I have two words for you. Your. Son.”
Jesus, that kid is going to be the death of me. If Lyric isn’t cock blocking me, he’s doing something that will get my ass kicked for teaching it to him. Not to mention, our four-year-old son, Luca, and two-and-a-half-year-old daughter, Skye, who take great pleasure in interrupting any time I get my hands on their mother.
But Lyric is different. When he was two, Lyric went from our son to mine. Not just because Blaine deemed the holy terror my responsibility, claiming it was my seed that made him this way, but also because that’s the way the he wanted it.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I ask her,
“What did he do this time? His teacher didn’t call again did he?” Because the last time that happened, isn’t a day I’ll soon forget, if ever.
“No, thank God,” Blaine returns coolly.
To this day, I still don’t know how Lyric did it, and the whole time the principal of the elementary school he goes to was threatening to expel him, I didn’t know whether to high five him or slap him upside the back of his head.
The kid is smart I’ll give him that much. He’d been at school a grand total of six days before he somehow managed to crash the entire computer network, and reset his teacher’s password. However, not before he changed the log-in screen picture to one of a school somewhere that had been set on fire. I didn’t even want to ask if that was an indication of things to come, but I did. And in the end, Lyric was extremely forthcoming with an answer.
According to him, his teacher is an asshole because she won’t let him take naps during the day. The principal is a loser because his voice makes him sound like a whiny toad. And the school nurse is a troll because she told him to go back to class and stop faking being sick every day so that he could go home early. The picture, he claims, was just freaking funny, but given his intelligence, I highly doubt that.
Blaine grounded Lyric for a month for pulling that stunt, and for a five-year-old that might as well be a year. What hurt him more than not being able to leave the house, was not seeing his best friend.
Four-year-old, Harleigh, Fury and Avery’s daughter is even more of a hellion than our boy if that can be believed. Avery swears she’s done having babies now that she’s given her man one of each, but I know better because Fury told me he wants, at least, two more.
When Blaine and I realized the friendship Harleigh and Lyric have, has the potential to be the most terrifying union known to mankind there was absolutely nothing we could do about it. It was too late. Those two were joined at the hip, and I’d hate to see what would happen if some poor bastard tried to pry them apart.
Such was their friendship, Avery and Fury, and my wife and I talked about limiting their time together. Not separate them per say, just cut it back a bit. That plan never came to fruition, though, seeing as Lyric and Harleigh had been eavesdropping at the door. At the first mention of not seein
g each other all day, every day, they promptly lost their shit, packed a backpack each and decided to hole up in Harleigh’s tree house until we saw the error of our ways.
They were three and four respectively.
Since then, and I hate to say it because I don’t want to be ‘that’ parent, we pretty much let them do what they want. Within reason.
Clicking her fingers in front of my face to get my attention, Blaine quips,
“Actually, it might not be such a bad thing after all,” she mutters conversationally, scarring the shit out of me. Because when Blaine changes her mind about Lyric’s behavior, it’s never a good thing.
As she pulls one of my old T-shirts over her head – she wears them to clean in – I narrow my eyes at her questioningly.
“Just tell me how bad I need to kick his ass so I can get on that. There are better things I’d like to be doing than talking about my boy’s latest fuck up.”
Without hesitation, Blaine surmises,
“You always did want a houseful of kids, now you have one extra.”
“Come again?” I growl menacingly, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Your son decided it would be far more convenient Harleigh just lived here, so currently they are in the process of moving, Skye into Luca’s room, and Harleigh into Skye’s. Apparently, Harleigh deserves her own room seeing as she the oldest girl, and Skye’s only a baby so she doesn’t need all that space anyway,” Blaine explains, now fighting to hide her smile.
“You call Avery about this shit yet?”
“Yep.”
“And what’s her take on it?” I ask, knowing Avery would have found this funny as fuck. Not so much if it were the other way around, but since it isn’t, she’d be at home laughing her ass off.
Rolling her eyes, Blaine answers,
“As you’d expect. When she finished laughing about it, she promised to get Fury to pick her up on the way home from the clubhouse. That is if we’re sure we don’t want to keep her.”
“What are the kids doing right now?” I grunt, hoping they’re not systematically destroying my living room.
Shrugging as if it’s no big deal, Blaine replies,
“Skye’s down for her afternoon nap. I bribed Luca with a ride on your bike if he sat still to watch a whole movie. And the other two are doing God knows what, but it’s quiet, and I don’t want to tempt fate.”
If that’s the case, there’s a slim chance we have half an hour, maybe more, before we’re interrupted, so instead of wasting it, I offer,
“If I promise to fix whatever the terrifying twosome did, get all the kids to bed, and take out the trash, what does that earn me?”
“Blowjob payback,” she says, not missing a beat.
“You’re on,” I growl, stripping my jeans off, sitting down on the bed.
*****
Kneeling on the floor between my legs, Blaine strips her shirt over her head, followed closely by the white lace bra I watched her put on this morning. As her beautiful tits come into my line of sight, my cock goes from hard to rock solid.
Tipped with tight, pink nipples begging to be sucked, Blaine ignores the demand for access in my eyes, her hands going straight for my boxer briefs. But before she can free me, my phone rings, interrupting one of my top three fantasies. It doesn’t matter how many times she sucks me off, I can’t get enough of it. Hence, blowjob payback.
Cursing loudly, I reach for it but don’t answer.
“Don’t move a fucking muscle,” I warn. “We’re going to finish what you started when I tell whoever this is to fuck off.”
When I have her agreement, only then do I answer the call.
“This better be worth interrupting what I was doing,” I bark.
“I catch you at a bad time, brother?” Fury replies, the humor in his voice unmistakable.
“Your timing couldn’t have been worse,” I grunt back.
Blaine shifts restlessly between my legs, her hands rubbing up and down the denim encasing her legs. Fury continues to talk in my ear, but my entire focus has narrowed on one thing and one thing alone.
Licking her lips, Blaine’s clever little hands travel over the bulge in the front of my boxers, curling in until the tips of her fingers are grazing the skin beneath the waistband.
She doesn’t fuck around them down my legs and pulling the thick length of my cock free. Her eyes widen, her tongue darts out to wet her lips again as she studies my shaft as if it’s the first time she’s seen it. Of course it isn’t, I’ve made sure she’s been well acquainted with him over the years, but I can’t say I dislike the hungry way Blaine’s eyeing me.
Shifting my hand into her hair, I guide her head closer toward my lap showing her I’m down with her exploring me however she wants.
Letting loose another curse, I hiss in response to the first tentative lick across my sensitive head. Slowly, Blaine circles the tip with her tongue, becoming bolder as she takes it into her mouth, her lips suctioning around the crown.
“Fucking fuck me. I’ve gotta go,” I rasp when Blaine’s head dips lower, engulfing the first six inches deep into the back of her throat.
“You okay, brother?” Fury asks, sounding confused at my abrupt dismissal.
Drawing her mouth up my shaft, dragging the edge of her teeth along the vein underneath, Blaine laps the first bead of pre-come from the opening of my cock. Watching her work me, stroking my shaft with her small hand, alternating her movements by adding a twist of her wrist when she reaches the top, I know I’m not going to last much longer.
This woman doesn’t even have to suck my cock. Smelling the subtle scent of her shampoo, feeling her hands on me, seeing her naked from the waist up jacking me off is enough to have me ready to blow.
Not one to be deterred, Blaine takes a deep breath in through her nose, and no joke swallows me to the root. Her hand not needed anymore reaches between my legs, cupping my balls as she rolls them gently in her palm.
Hanging up and throwing my phone half way across the room, I warn,
“You keep doing that, and you’re gonna find your mouth full but not with my cock. You good with that?”
“Mmhmm,” she mumbles, the head of my cock hitting the back of her throat.
“Motherfucker,” I growl as I feel her tug on my balls at the same time her teeth sink lightly into the skin surrounding the base of my dick.
With a groan of approval, I fist my hand tightly in her hair, not guiding her movements but encouraging them. Blaine sees that as her cue to increase the strength of her suction, taking me down the back of her throat until I think I’m going to pass the fuck out.
Hollowing out her cheeks, Blaine gives me one last hard suck before I erupt, my come filling her mouth. Struggling to take it all, Blaine’s throat works overtime to swallow every drop.
Sucking the last of my come from my shaft, she laps her way to the tip, running her tongue around it until she’s licked my clean. You’d think after that I’d be spent, but my cock is just as hard now as it was before I came.
Reaching down, I pull her up, strip her jeans and panties down her legs and position her straddling my thighs.
“Guide me inside, baby,” I order.
Blaine complies immediately by gripping the base of my cock and experimentally running it over the lips of her pussy, stopping to tease her clit a few times.
“Now, Blaine. Give me that sweet pussy,” I demand, my patience close to snapping.
The head of my cock notched inside her core, Blaine slams herself down, taking me in in one smooth thrust.
“My God,” she breathes as I pull her down the last half an inch, sinking my teeth into her throat as I do.
I never thought about using my teeth on a woman before Blaine. But with her, it comes naturally. Marking her, having her wear my brand for everyone to see is a massive fucking turn on. So much so, I have to fight getting hard every time I catch sight of it when she comes to visit me at work, or we’re out anywhere in public.
�
��Slow, baby. I want you to fuck me slow this time,” I command taking control of her hips.
“No, honey. No,” she begs sweetly.
“Slow, Blaine,” I repeat, grinding my hips into hers.
The glide of our bodies, the soft fall of her hair framing us as she works herself up and down on my cock, and the way her breathing escalates as she gets closer to finding it is the most erotic fucking thing I’ve seen in my life.
As Blaine reaches for it, her pussy clamps down around my cock almost forcing it from her body. Powering up, I bury myself to the hilt, coming deep, hard, and magnificently. And if that didn’t plant another baby in my wife, I’m more than happy to keep practicing until I do.
Vengeance MC Box Set - Volume 1: Call Me...Vengeance ~ Fury ~ Jonas Page 87