Although falling asleep is a pretty common thing after Elizabeth nurses our rambunctious eight-month-son, Knox, I know that part of the reason she is dead to the world is that she is completely exhausted. No matter how much I try to help with Knox, I am no substitute for him wanting his mother’s tit. He is wiping her out in a way that I never could.
I’ve been encouraging her for three weeks now to finally wean my boy off of her breastmilk, but as usual I’ve been outvoted. Elizabeth wants him to receive all the nutritional benefits from breastmilk for at least a year, and just like a Masterson man, my son is taking full advantage of a good thing.
But something has to give.
It wasn’t that long ago that Elizabeth was bruised and battered in a horrific accident when she was pregnant with Knox that damn near took a year off of my life; yet she feeds him every couple of hours, plays many development games with him, does a full day’s work, and if she has a smidgeon of energy left, she may take pity on me and give me a lazy fuck.
But that’s the thing.
She rarely has any energy left after a day of being a wonderful mother and a responsible business owner, so lazy fucks are far and few between. Needless to say, something’s going to have to change soon, because I need to be inside of Elizabeth like I need oxygen to breathe.
A weird sounding chime goes off from the smart device on the nightstand. Even our dog, Mr. Tibbs, raises and tilts his head in question of the odd ring. I suspect it’s some sort of alarm Elizabeth has set to wake herself up from her impromptu nap.
I try turning it off quickly, but it’s too late as she reluctantly stirs from her sleep. I brush a finger down the side of her face, adjusting some stray curls behind her ear.
“Why don’t you sleep another twenty,” I whisper.
“I can’t,” she responds groggily. “I shouldn’t even be asleep now.”
“Why?”
She notices Knox is missing from the bed.
“The baby!”
“I put him in the crib. Don’t worry, I’ve got him today.”
“My meeting—”
“What meeting? It’s Saturday, Duchess.”
She must be delirious with sleep. Her days seem to be seamlessly blending into each other.
“It was the only day he could talk.”
She tries inching the sheet and quilt down with her feet to wake herself up. The central air is on high and keeps our room cool enough for her to sleep under layers. I yank them back up to her neck. Pissed that she’s actually attempting to work on a Saturday when she hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in months.
“He who?”
“The new president of Cabot University. He’s considering working exclusively with us. He would promote the use of the app through official university communications, potentially exposing us to thousands of students.”
“Where’s Cabot University?”
“It’s a small school upstate, but they’re connected to the University of Pennsylvania network.”
“That’s big news, baby. I can’t believe you’re just telling me about it.”
“I didn’t want to jinx it.”
“You know I don’t believe in all of that superstitious BS.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been let down so many times before from deals that almost happened. I just wanted to wait to tell you until I was at least close to securing the deal.”
I sit on the edge of our bed and slide my hand underneath the covers near the apex of Elizabeth’s thighs.
“If you would just let me help you secure a few paid clients, you would never need to feel disappointed again. In fact, helping you would be my pleasure.”
The heat emanating from my fiancée’s crotch as I knead the inside of her thigh makes me feel stiff in my own. I want inside of my woman in the worst way.
“It won’t mean the same if you just buy me business relationships, Roman.”
Elizabeth abruptly rolls over toward the nightstand and reaches for her cell phone once she hears it ding, immediately ending the physical contact between my hand and her thigh.
Now I’m just fucking annoyed.
“Why won’t it mean the same? Do you actually believe that all the millionaires in this country earn their money with hard work and honest deals?” I scoff.
“I don’t need to be a millionaire like some people. I just want to help students find scholarships for college and make a decent living while I do it.”
Elizabeth picks up her phone and starts scrolling through her text messages as if this conversation is boring her. It’s been a minute since I tied her pretty ass up to the headboard and fucked her sideways. I think she’s overdue.
“You know what I mean, Elizabeth, and put the phone down.”
“I’m sending my friend Patty some money. Wait, a second.”
I can’t help but notice the confirmation screen on her phone and it surprises me. She just sent this Patty person a thousand dollars and even though we live comfortably, that’s still a lot of money to just give someone, especially a woman I’ve never heard of.
“Who’s Patty?”
“An old friend from school. Her creepy landlord is giving her some problems so the money will help her pay the security deposit for a new place. Maybe you can go down there and talk to him until she finds something else?”
Lately, my Duchess worries about everything and everyone besides the one thing she should be, herself.
“Are you finished?” I ask impatiently because I’m sick and tired of competing with every device in this house.
She places the phone on her lap and slowly rolls her head up to glare at me. This woman I adore has developed a serious attitude problem which I attribute to a sleep deprivation and a lack of some good dick in her life.
“Fine, you want to talk about my business? Well, I think it’s perfectly okay for us to have different approaches toward how we accomplish our goals. You have your way of doing things and I have mine.”
“Yeah, but it’s my approach that actually works.”
“You’re so arrogant.”
“Is it I’m arrogant or that I’m right?”
“It sounds like you’re throwing up in my face you pay all the bills around here?”
Damn, she must be sleep deprived. I totally wasn’t saying that shit.
“No, Duchess, not at all. I’m just saying that all the strategies I’ve learned over the years like buying favors, arranging backdoor deals, and leveraging influence over people to get what I need is what works.”
“I think you’re comparing oranges to apples. The two of us are in very different lines of work, and that’s not the way I’m going to build School Bucks into a brand that every college student in the world can use. I’m going to do it my way. No skipping the line.”
I grunt to myself, which is the equivalent of me rolling my eyes. While I’ve never attended an ivy league university like Elizabeth and her friends, I’ve learned everything I need to know on the streets, specifically under the tutelage of my father, Joseph. One thing he’s always impressed upon me is that nobody gets brownie points for doing shit the hard way.
Unfortunately, Elizabeth and I have had this conversation more times than I can count and it always ends up the same way. Me pissed that she won’t permit me to help her grow her business in the way that I know how and her apologizing for making me angry by wrapping her pretty lips around my dick. That is definitely the easiest solution to shutting me up, but sadly that’s not the way this conversation is going to end because Knox just started waking from his nap. I can hear the echo of his raspy baby babble through the five gazillion monitors Elizabeth has placed all over the damn house.
“Ah, there he is,” she says, sounding almost relieved that she has an excuse to end our conversation.
When she rises from the bed, I place my palm firmly against her chest, getting a quick feel of her right tit for good measure. Her nipple pebbles from my brief touch and a petty part of me dies inside. Elizabeth’s breasts are
round and full from breastfeeding and look amazing, it’s a fucking shame neither one of them have been in my mouth for days.
“I said I’ve got him.”
“Okay,” she reluctantly agrees.
When I enter the nursery, my little bruiser is on his feet, hands wrapped around the railing, with a huge grin on his face. I can’t help but give him one in return. He has his mother’s smile and my deep-set eyes. Other than Elizabeth, I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone or anything more in my life. You can’t help but adore this little bundle of baby brute force. He’s already got the great makings of a Masterson man—he’s irresistible and unstoppable. Nobody can say no to him.
“Hey, little monster, why aren’t you letting Mommy get any rest? You know you’re cock blocking me big time, right?”
I grin as Knox raises his arms and babbles something totally incoherent that only his mother ever seems to understand.
“Roman!” Elizabeth hollers from our bedroom. “Watch your mouth. Don’t curse in front of the baby.”
Knox giggles as if he understands every word I’ve just said and his mother’s response. Hell, maybe he does. I wouldn’t put it past Elizabeth to have given birth to a genius.
“Relax, nerd,” I say, practically laughing myself. “Go back to sleep or something.”
“He’s probably hungry.”
“How can you be hungry, dude?” I ask him in a small voice. “You just drank from my favorite tit.”
He babbles a string of nonsense words together with the most stern look across his face. I’m pretty sure this little boy just cursed me out. I pick him up and sniff his butt. Great, I smell nothing putrid. I slide my finger inside of the diaper to feel if he’s wet (he’s not)—perfect. So the only thing left to do now is feed him again like his mother suggested, although I’m not sure where he’s putting all of it.
“You must have one hell of a metabolism,” I whisper in his ear as he babbles with great inflection.
“Is that so?” I say in response, chuckling to myself. I don’t have a clue what he’s talking about, but it’s definitely something.
I dip my head back into our bedroom. “Is there a bottle in the fridge?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then we’re good.”
“But I—”
“Duchess, I don’t care if you go back to sleep or get ready for your call, but I’ve got this. Give Mommy a kiss, little monster.”
I walk back over to Elizabeth and lean in with Knox tucked under my arm like a football. She gives him a sleepy kiss on his mouth.
“Love you, peanut.”
Turns out that allowing him within a few feet of his mother was a bad idea because our new little master manipulator cries as soon as I pull him away.
“Give him here,” she commands.
Elizabeth holds her arms out for me to hand him over.
“No.”
2
ROMAN
“Just give him here, Roman.” She makes the “gimme” sign with her hands. “Aww, peanut, don’t cry. Maybe I should just nurse him instead.”
I see the tears of mama guilt swell in Elizabeth’s eyes.
This shit has got to stop.
“Duchess, babies cry, especially this one. It’s what they do. He’ll stop once I give him the bottle.”
“I don’t think it’s just that he’s hungry. He misses me. I bet it’s because I don’t spend enough time with him.”
With him? Shit, she doesn’t spend enough time with me, but this isn’t the time for that conversation.
“I am familiar with having a shitty mother and you are not that. You are a fantastic mom who runs her own business, which means you’re busy, not negligent. We will figure it out and Knox will be fine. He’s got the both of us.”
I rub my hand down the front of Knox’s face to wipe the tears and snot away and he giggles. I think Elizabeth and I have made the happiest or craziest boy on the planet. He flips from crying to laughing in a fraction of a second.
“See, he’s fine.”
Elizabeth smiles and I feel her sense of relief deep in my chest. It’s my job to protect her in every way, physically and emotionally, so when I’ve done my job right I feel a sense of accomplishment. Sometimes I think the responsibility of taking care of her and Knox are the only two reasons I get up in the morning; like they’re the only two things that stop me from becoming my baser self and breaking a man’s neck when somebody inevitably pisses me off. They are my life and keep me grounded and motivated. Everything I do now, I do for them.
“So what have you decided to do, beautiful?” I ask her.
“I know it’s a Saturday, but I’m going to take the call.”
“So go brush your teeth, take a shower, then handle your call. Me and the little monster are going to have a long conversation about how Cookie Monster handled Elmo like a boss in the last episode we watched.”
“What are you talking about, crazy man?”
“It was a good character building episode. Cookie Monster is the only Muppet that is always sure of what he wants. A monster after my own heart. He wants cookies and that’s it. If you’re not talking shit about cookies, then he isn’t interested.”
Elizabeth lets out a laugh at my commentary, a genuine laugh, and my dick damn near gets hard as a rock as I watch her full tits bounce in her tiny, white tank top. It’s been forever since I’ve been able to make love to my girl the way she really likes it—hard and nasty. That’s because there are a myriad of time constraints, two leaky breasts, and one crying baby that gets in the way all the damn time.
I try to remember my stepmother’s words at times like this, “this too shall pass” but right now Juliette’s words don’t hold any comfort for me. All I can hear is the annoying voice in my head whenever I take a whiff of Elizabeth, much less look at her.
You need that pussy, but you ain’t getting some today.
“Only you could make that analogy of a beloved childhood character.”
I think Elizabeth just said something, but I don’t even know what it was because I’m staring at her tits and ass with nefarious intent. Her eyebrows raise once she notices what’s up.
“Uh-uh, Roman, I’ve got to shower and your baby is hungry,” she says with a warning.
“You mean the baby who’s happily playing with my ears right now? The baby who couldn’t care less about a bottle of milk?”
Knox has some sort of fascination with ears and earrings. Elizabeth can never wear any dangling earrings around him because before you can blink, he’s already tossed one of them clear across the room. On top of being good-natured, good-looking, and smart, my son also seems to be athletically inclined. I see a major baseball or football career in his future.
“Roman.”
“Baby, why don’t I put him in the playpen with a bottle of your gently warmed breastmilk and come take a shower with you.”
“I would love that but my call is in twenty minutes and nothing that the two of us ever starts finishes in twenty minutes. Plus, it’s not a good idea to leave him alone with his bottle. He’s too young. What if he chokes?”
“I don’t think this boy has ever wasted one droplet of your milk. He definitely will not choke on it.”
She turns her lips up at me like I’m being a bad parent.
Hmm, maybe I am.
“Okay, fine,” I bargain. “You know I’m not all about the quickies, but how about I take care of you in under ten minutes? Knox can stay in the room. Problem solved.”
“Roman!”
“What? We did it before.”
“He was six-weeks-old then. He didn’t know what we were doing.”
“And you think he knows what we’re doing now?” I ask incredulously.
“No,” she says emphatically. “We’re not doing it.”
“I’m not asking permission, Duchess.”
My voice drops an octave, and Elizabeth’s eyes widen. It’s been a long time since I’ve made any overt sexual demands of
her because we’ve been overwhelmed with our new lives and our new baby, but just when I notice a flicker of desire rise in her eyes, our little puppet master lets out the loudest wail.
“Whaaaaa!”
And then he gives the side of my face a firm whack.
I never thought I would think this about my own flesh and blood, but Knox Masterson truly is a cock blocker, and now that I think about it he’s been that way since the very beginning.
Elizabeth went into labor as I was hitting that swollen, pregnant pussy of hers from the back. Those were good times. She was always horny, and I was a willing participant to satisfy her every need. I was stroking her very carefully, making sure not to cause Knox or her any discomfort, but I also was talking major shit to her that night. Real dirty. She was sopping wet way before I even slipped inside of her. She came twice before I even got a good rhythm going, and I was literally mid-stroke when the contractions began.
At first I panicked, thinking she was contracting because I had gone too deep, but no, it was just Knox making a grand entrance. He was letting me know to get out of the way because he was coming into the world… and I would not be coming at all that night. The more things change, the more they stay the same.
“See? I knew it. He’s hungry.”
“All right, boy. Let’s go get this milk you love so much and watch a little Sesame Street. I’ll play with Mommy another time.”
Elizabeth stands up and gives me a quick peck on the lips.
“Thank you, honey. I can always shower again tonight,” she says with a mischievous grin.
That one statement soothes the selfish part of me for now.
Of course she’s right.
There’s always tonight once this little hell raiser goes to sleep.
Or maybe the next.
3
ELIZABETH
When I was pregnant with Knox, I wouldn’t say that my life changed significantly. On the contrary, many things stayed wonderfully the same. I continued to work, periodically hung out with Sloan, but spent most of my time with Roman playing house and getting ready for our son’s arrival. It was a beautiful and exciting time in our lives. My body was healing nicely from the horrible accident I had been in, Roman and I were madly in love with each other and also with this new human being who we hadn’t even met yet, but something shifted once I gave birth.
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