Tainted Gold: Providence Gold Series Book Three

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Tainted Gold: Providence Gold Series Book Three Page 15

by Moore, Mary B.


  “Tate, please!”

  Just as I was reaching the point where I’d have happily killed him if I didn’t need his dick to be fully functional, he reared back onto his knees in front of me, and reached down and fisted his length with his free hand, pumping slowly up and down it. Throughout this, the fingers inside me on his other hand continued to move in and out, perfectly in sync and matching the movements of the hand around his cock.

  The sight and feel of both had me on the brink, and just as I pushed my hips into the bed to press down on the fingers that were rubbing against that crazy awesome place inside me, he fell forward, catching himself on a fist beside me, and slid into me as I went over the cliff.

  Every orgasm is awesome, but the ones I had with Tate were spectacular. That said, this one was a record breaker. The fact that I was in the process of coming, the muscles inside me spasming as he pushed into me, shot me into an orgasm I wasn’t sure I’d survive. The whole time I was torn between worrying that the force of it would shoot the baby out of me months before it was meant to, or that I’d suffocate with the intensity of it, and wanting it to happen all over again.

  “Shit,” Tate hissed, moving harder and faster, the tip of his cock rubbing over that patch inside and sending me right over again. He continued moving, and then suddenly roared, “Mine, fucking mine!”

  Tate

  There was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could compare to Lily. As a person she was beautiful, loving and the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life waking up to. She was as special as she was beautiful, and I felt sorry for anyone who never got the chance to meet her in this lifetime because they were missing out. There were actually eight wonders in the world – and one of them was my woman.

  The feeling of her pussy grasping my dick as I moved inside her was almost otherworldly. Hand to God, it was. Every nerve felt how hot, tight and wet she was as I moved in and out, and when it tightened impossibly harder as she came again, I swore I saw stars.

  I didn’t mean to hiss the word shit, but it was the only word I could say when I felt the tingling in the base of my spine. I didn’t want to come this soon though, I wanted it to go on all day, with her snug silky wetness around me.

  Forcing the feeling aside, I struggled to think of something, anything, that would take my mind off of it. Unfortunately, it went straight to a memory of her leaning over the bar, talking to her ex. If there was anything that would push you back from the cliff, it was remembering your woman smiling at another man, a man she’d been in a relationship with. It didn’t matter that she was carrying my baby, it didn’t matter that she’d just told me she loved me, it didn’t matter that she was coming at that moment because of my cock – I had to say it.

  “Mine, fucking mine!”

  I don’t know if it was my tone, the fact I gave her more of my weight (making sure not to press too hard on the baby) or what, but she wrapped her arms and legs tightly around me and whispered, “I love you.”

  Turning my head quickly, I took her mouth in a hot, deep kiss and was still doing it when I came, groaning down her throat. With each thrust, more pulsed out of me, the feeling taking over as every cell in my body screamed.

  Climaxing for a man is a pleasure-pain. I couldn’t say for sure that women felt what we did. It was like someone set off an electric shock in the base of your spine that travelled down to your balls. Once it got there, it grew until something snapped, and it shot up your dick and out. With each pulse of come, it happened again, and again. With Lily, even afterwards, when the tip was so sensitive that every muscle in my body contracted when it touched something inside her, I couldn’t stop my hips from moving, forcing me to endure every second because I never wanted it to stop.

  Slowly gliding in and out of her, I released her mouth and gave her slow, leisurely flicks of my tongue against hers.

  Eventually I pulled back and caught her eyes. “I love you.”

  I’ve been in love – with my family. Lily was the first, and until now I didn’t realize what those words could truly mean. Even without the baby, I would have wanted to be with her, intended to be with her, and had made plans for us. The love I felt for her though was different, and the words meant something totally new to me too. In fact, saying them didn’t even come close to being able to describe what I felt for her, but they were the only ones I could think of.

  Kissing her again, I refused to pull out until my cock started to soften – as it inevitably does. During our night of lovemaking, I’d started to understand the merits of Viagra. With it, I wouldn’t have to pull out, I’d just stay hard and could stay inside her. When I’d told her this, she’d burst out laughing (probably thinking I was joking) and said it might make her used goods. Honestly, I wouldn’t care. I’d take her any way she came.

  With a final lip touch, I pulled my hips back, my dick coming out of her and resting between us, as I reached my hand down and put it on top of her bump.

  “Every time I take you, I worry about him,” I whispered, leaning down and resting my forehead on hers as I watched my hand skim over the mound that was growing every day. “I worry that I’ll land on him, squash him or even poke him in the eye.”

  I heard her laugh at the same time that I saw her bump shuddering under my hand. I’d put that baby in there, it was part of both of us – and fuck me that was an amazing feeling.

  Still laughing, she rubbed a hand up my back and tried to reassure me. “You’re not going to poke him. You’re big, but you’re not that big.”

  “How do you know? He could be lower down than a normal baby? Or, I could be bigger than you realize.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off it, even when she started laughing even harder. That’s when it happened, and every experience I’d ever had in my life went down a spot on the list.

  Right underneath my palm was a hard thump, followed by another one.

  Pushing down gently to see if he’d do it again, I told Lily (unnecessarily seeing as how she could feel it from the inside), “I swear he kicked my hand.”

  Jumping up, I lunged for my phone and started searching for an answer on the internet. Were you meant to be able to feel the baby doing it at seventeen weeks?

  “What are you doing?” she asked, watching me with a huge grin on her face.

  “Checking to see if that’s normal. I mean, he’s a genius,” I muttered, flipping through the results online, “but I think that might be the first case in history like this.”

  That’s when I saw something on a pregnancy website that advised parents-to-be that normally you’d feel it after the twenty-week mark, but some felt it before then. Some – that was the key word.

  Seeing the grin on my face, she rubbed her baby bump. “And?”

  Dropping down beside her, I showed her what the screen said. “Our kid’s weeks ahead. All the other babies will be trying to find their way out the womb, and ours will be designing the next version of the iPhone.”

  Einstein Townsend, I loved it! Well, inside my head I did. I wouldn‘t even dare joke about it out loud because she’d probably call it that.

  Thirteen

  Lily

  The next night I was back in work and I hated it. Tate was working late and was currently at a site that was over two hours away. Maybe I could have stayed home and gotten a good night’s sleep without his penis there to wake me up, but being at home was kind of dull now. Even the animals preferred it at his house. Bojangles and King Ferdinand had bigger enclosures to peck around in, Snickers had more space to explore, and the dogs loved it there and had more people and dogs to play with.

  His bed was also better than mine, or at least than mine had been. This morning he’d dropped me off so I could put on one of my new pairs of maternity jeans because my normal ones didn’t fit anymore, and as I was pulling them up my legs, he’d slipped his own off. What followed was awesome, but just as I was coming, he’d thrust hard into me and the wood holding up the left side of my bed had snapped. I couldn’t bring my
self to be upset about it because it’d added to the force of the thrust and had sent me into an orgasm that almost made me pass out. I wasn’t even sad now about the bed, probably because hours on, I was still feeling what had happened because of it.

  “Why are you smiling?” Beau asked behind me.

  She had a good point, because also behind me was my ex who refused to leave me alone. Thankfully, when he’d come in I’d been restocking the fridges, so I had a good reason not to acknowledge him. That didn’t mean I wasn’t aware of his asshole self. No, apparently this baby gave me the skill required to sense evil, something which happened again at that moment when the slut from hell, Carly, walked in.

  Turning to smile at Beau, I motioned with my eyes for her to move over to the side of the bar away from Chris. The bar was shaped like a horseshoe with him sitting on the top section of it, and I wanted her to move to the side far away from him. When Carly walked up though, Beau grinned at me and shook her head.

  “Well, well. If that isn’t the face of a woman who’s been banging her brains out, I don’t know what is,” she snorted, knowing full well she was poking the bear.

  How is this my life?

  “Ugh, what a slut,” Carly sneered, leaning into Chris’s side and almost falling when he leaned away from her.

  “You won’t know what that feels like, sweetie,” Beau replied. “Seeing as how you bang everything, they never have to put any effort into making you come, do they?”

  “Fuck you, Silver,” Carly hissed back. “Your mama gave you and your sister stripper names for a reason, maybe take the fucking hint and go do that.”

  I froze, anger starting to take over. Both Beau and Vivi had been the target of a lot of shit for their names and the fact that it was Carly saying that? God no.

  Before I could answer, Beau snorted and rolled her eyes. “Nah, she gave them to us because she didn’t want to give us common ones,” she told her, stressing the word common as she looked the woman up and down, leaving her in no doubt what she meant.

  “I will tear your face off and shove it up your ass,” Carly growled, raising her hand.

  “Do that, and I’ll bar you,” I warned, getting an irritated look from Beau who hadn’t wanted me involved in the argument. She was fiercely protective, and I loved her for it, but seriously?

  At that moment, the ugliest smirk took over Carly’s face (and that was saying something). “Mmm, Lily James. I see you’re getting fat,” she sneered looking me up and down and then pointedly looking at my stomach.

  My eyes almost got stuck in the back of my head when I rolled them. Jesus Christ this woman was a cliché!

  Sighing, I leaned on the top of the bar, resting my chin on my hand. “Yup, you caught me, Carly. One too many burgers, waffles and Babe Ruth bars.”

  Seeing she hadn’t upset me, she went in for what she probably thought was the kill. “And how’s your baby daddy? Hmm? Doing good is he?”

  Lifting up so I was standing straight, I shrugged and made a point of rubbing my bump. “Nah, not so much. He was looking absolutely exhausted when I saw him earlier today, and his text an hour ago said he was dragging ass.” When her eyes lit up, I pressed forward. “If he didn’t insist on loving me every hour, he might be ok. Then again,” I added, looking to the side thoughtfully, “he owes me a new bed seeing as how he broke mine this morning.”

  It was petty, I was lowering myself to her level, it was the cliché I’d just accused her of being, but fucking seriously – I was a pregnant woman and my hormones were in control. Normally, I’d have walked away and flipped her the bird, but she’d just insulted my best friend, and she’d called me fat before bringing Tate into it. I would have ignored the fat jibe, but he was a good man and Beau was a beautiful person, that’s why I sank down to her levels.

  I was fighting a cliché with a cliché, and to those who judged, let them stand in my shoes while they were having to adjust to wearing jeans with an extendable elasticized waist because their stomach had outgrown their normal ones while someone attacked the people they loved. So clichés be damned!

  For a second, it looked like she was going to try to slap me across the bar, but then she grinned and slowly reached into her purse. For a second, images of her pulling out a gun or something flashed through my head, but instead she pulled out her cell and opened it up. “Funny thing, on Thursday night I met my friend for a drink at Ringo’s. You might have been there seeing as how you own a dive bar and it’s more upper class, but you’ve probably heard of it. Anyway, while we there, in walked Tate and his family, and we had a great time together. You know, drinking, laughing, having fun, and shit like that.” Placing the cell onto the bar in front of me, she pushed it over with the tip of a nail.

  For a moment, all I could do was look at the nails in question. They were those long ones with the pointed end that looked like something one of the baddies in a Disney cartoon would have.

  How the hell did she wipe after she went to the bathroom? Wasn’t she afraid that one of them would tear through the paper and pierce her ass hole? What about picking her nose?

  Then, proving I was a mother-to-be, something else occurred to me – how much bacteria gathered under them? It’s not like she’d be spraying antibacterial stuff under them every hour, and with the amount of shit bacteria gathered on, surely they would be breeding and multiplying under them?

  This made me pull my arms away from where her cell was now resting. No way in hell did I want to touch anything of hers.

  When she pushed it further toward me, I saw the screen and the name on it - Tate T – and what it said.

  Tate T: Gonna say this now so you know. Iluvu. Luvluvluvluvluvluvluvyou.

  Then the next one.

  Tate T: 1 day am will marry u.

  Clee-fuckin-shay!

  She was a clee-ho. A clichéd ho! I could say worse, but I wasn’t going to. Instead, I was going to be the bigger, better, pregnant-by-Tate-Townsend person, and… ah fuck it.

  “Girl, you need to take your…” Beau started, reaching out to grab her, but I held my hand up to stop her.

  This was all mine.

  “Babe,” I started sweetly, giving her a grin and enjoying her shock immensely. “I know there’s nothing original about you, but you could at least try at some point. See, Tate told me he’d tried sending me a couple text messages which I’d never received. Right after that, he told me he loved me.” Looking her up and down, I shook my head. “I don’t know what’s made you a bitter Betty, but something has. You’re a walking, talking, clee-ho…”

  “What’s that?” Beau asked, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “A clichéd ho,” I told her, then looked back at Carly. “I feel sorry for you, girl,” I said softly, leaning closer to her. “You won’t ever find someone who’ll take you on if you keep acting like this.” I really did feel sorry for her. Sorry that she’d chosen to take this sort of reputation on for life, sorry that she felt life could be achieved by being a manipulative bitch, and sorry for her she believed what Tate had sent to her. I didn’t know how it came to be, but no one would be that smug if they didn’t believe it even a little. “Go and take a look at yourself in the mirror and you’ll see that underneath all of this is a woman who has a man in the world for her, instead of going after another woman’s.”

  I thought that in light of things I was being nice, however she thought otherwise. “Fuck you, you cunt,” she hissed, leaning down until there was only an inch between us. “I hope you burn in hell.”

  Flinching back from the hatred in her eyes, I watched as she leaned over to pick up Chris’s bottle of beer, but a hand stopped her before she could even get her fingers around it. Following the arm they were attached to, I breathed a sigh of relief that Tate had turned up.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he growled, snatching it away from her.

  “Hey, that’s my beer,” Chris objected, finally speaking up. The big fat pussy!

  When he went to stand u
p, another hand landed on his shoulder holding him in place. This one was attached to none other than Tate’s brother Archer, the quietest of the family. “Sit your pretty little butt down, dude,” he advised, the tips of his fingers going white when he increased the pressure he was using. “My little brother over there has a nice little story to tell.”

  What was he talking about?

  Nodding, Tate handed the bottle across to me with a wink, and then looked back at Chris and Carly, crossing his arms over his chest. “True story, I do. See, I couldn’t remember much about the other night. I knew I’d sent some texts, but that was about it.”

  “Diablo with a sombrero,” Levi grunted, alerting me to the fact that the rest of the Townsend family had turned up.

  “Yeah, we can thank the tequila too,” Tate agreed, swallowing awkwardly at the memory. “Now, I got to talking to my friend who does tattoos, and he told me y’all had turned up after the first bottle of Diablo with the sombrero. None of us could figure out where that tequila had even come from, except the first which had been given as a ‘gift’ when he’d gone up to the bar. Do you know who served him?” It was a rhetorical question because the yes was plain to see on both their faces. “That would be your cousin, Carly.”

  Jerking her chin up, she glared at him. “And? That’s not a crime, is it?”

  Shaking his head, Tate lifted a hand and looked at her thoughtfully as he rubbed it over his beard, the raspy noise audible over the sounds in the bar. “Nope, it’s not.”

  That’s when Levi slammed a piece of paper down on the bar in front of me. At the top were the details of the doctor who worked in town, and underneath it were columns with numbers in them with a paragraph written at the bottom.

 

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