Epilogue
Saint
“Wake up, angel eyes.” I kissed Angelique’s forehead and ran a finger down her soft cheek. I hated to wake her, but people were about to arrive, and if she missed any part of this party, I would pay for it with her tears. My wife had been planning this event for months, and I wasn’t going to be the reason she missed it.
I’d won the championship right after we were married and had taken her on a monthlong honeymoon to Hawaii. I hesitated to fight another season, not wanting to be away from my wife. But Angelique wanted to travel with me, and since she’d never been anywhere besides Las Vegas (and now Hawaii), I was happy to give in to her request. As much as I enjoyed simply having her with me, it was incredible to watch her wonder and excitement at each new place we went.
When we found out Angelique was pregnant, we agreed that I would finish out the season and then retire for good. My wife then decided that we needed to have a huge party to celebrate my retirement and hopefully, another championship. I didn’t want her to overdo it, but she convinced me by assuring me that she would have help from Knox’s sisters, who ran the wedding chapel at the Lennox.
I took home my final belt with my sexy wife, round with our child, cheering me on from the first row. She’d been practically vibrating with excitement over the party, so here I was, about to wake her when I knew, at eight months pregnant, she was exhausted.
After tenderly kissing her lips, I pulled back to find gorgeous turquoise eyes beaming up at me sleepily. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“You should have been resting all day instead of running around on your swollen feet,” I admonished her with a mild frown.
Angelique rolled her eyes, and her lips started to curve up, but then her mouth suddenly flattened for a moment, and she rubbed her belly. “Are you in pain?” I asked suspiciously.
She grunted and sat up on the couch. “Nope. It’s just getting hard to maneuver with your giant offspring inside me.” She laughed as she held out her hand so I could help her to her feet. When she saw my furrowed brow and narrowed eyes, she clucked her tongue at me like I was a naughty child. “Don’t be such a bear, Michael. I’m completely refreshed from my little catnap.”
Shaking my head, I sighed but lifted her to her feet. Before she could try to walk, though, I swept her into my arms and made my way out to our large backyard where everything was set up for a barbecue. I set her down on one of the overstuffed loungers and ordered her to stay put. The doorbell rang just as she was opening her mouth, no doubt to argue with me, and I pointed a warning finger at her before heading back inside.
When I opened the door, a wide smile split my face at the sight of the man and woman standing there. “Justice?”
Justice Kendall and I had been friends for a long time but rarely got to see each other because he lived in New York City. He’d also been my investment manager since he started his company with his brother, Thatcher. They’d flown out for my final championship fight, but I didn’t know Justice and Blair were still in town.
He grinned and shook my hand. “Your wife is very persuasive, and somehow, she convinced us to extend our trip to be here for your party.” It might not seem like it to some people, but this was a big deal for these two. They hated being away from their children for more than a few nights.
“Thank you for coming,” I said gruffly, trying not to sound like a pussy even though I was touched by their gesture. Blair went up on her tiptoes and kissed my cheek, ignoring Justice’s growl. I almost laughed except for the fact that I was just as possessive of my wife.
“We wouldn’t have missed it. Thatcher and Imogene aren’t far behind us.”
I nodded, again trying to repress the pussy I was apparently becoming. I showed them out to the backyard where they greeted my wife, who had been obedient for a change and stayed in her seat. Blair rubbed her large belly and smiled. “Not long now, huh?”
Angelique beamed and shook her head. “We can’t wait to meet the little guy.” Her face twisted in pain for half a second, but it was long enough for me to notice.
I rushed over and crouched down at her side. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she assured me brightly. “He just likes to practice his boxing moves a little too enthusiastically sometimes.”
My eyes searched her face, looking for any sign that she was still in pain, but I didn’t find any. I slowly straightened up, and when the doorbell rang again, I reluctantly went to let in the next guests. By the time everyone arrived, the backyard was filled with people.
Angelique convinced me to let her mingle a little, but I watched her like a hawk until she scolded me for being rude and ignoring everyone else. I didn’t want to listen to her because every once in a while, I caught that same little hint of a grimace, and she would rub her tummy. However, she teared up, and I immediately went to talk with Justice, Thatcher, and Knox, just to get her to stop crying.
I finally relaxed a little when Blair and Knox’s wife, Addilyn, promised to keep an eye on Angelique. Not twenty minutes later, Addilyn sidled up to Knox and whispered something in his ear, making him frown. She glanced at me, making me narrow my eyes on her and look around for my wife. When I didn’t see her, my scowl swung back over to Knox and Addilyn.
“I’d be pissed as fuck if no one told me, baby. I’m not going to risk my pretty face by distracting a champion MMA fighter,” he said with a shake of his head. He flinched when she glared at him but turned to look at me. “Apparently, Angelique isn’t feeling well. Blair took her inside and instructed my wife to request that I distract you so you would enjoy the rest of the party.” Addilyn huffed, and Knox pulled her into his arms. By the way she melted into him, I assumed she’d already forgiven him.
Rolling my eyes, I sighed and mumbled my thanks before sprinting back to the house and into our bedroom. Angelique was sitting on the side of the bed, bent over, holding her stomach, while Blair rubbed her lower back.
My chest squeezed at the pain I saw in Angelique’s face. Since no one was around, she wasn’t bothering to try to hide it, and it struck fear into my heart. “What the fuck?” I almost shouted but lowered my voice at the last minute so I wouldn’t upset her even further. “What’s wrong?”
She tried to smile at me and panted, “Nothing, babe. Go back to the party. I’ll be down there in a few.” Blair rolled her eyes and silently shook her head.
I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, and knelt in front of Angelique before I took her face between my palms. “Have you been feeling like this all day, angel eyes?” Her eyes began to widen with innocence, and I knew she was about to lie her pretty little ass off but was derailed by another grimace and groan of pain.
“Maybe a little,” she conceded when the pain seemed to let up. “But I didn’t want to spoil the party. Let’s go back out there. I’m fine.”
“Um, Angelique,” Blair murmured, “I’m pretty sure you’re in labor.”
My wife bent over with another wave of pain but managed to turn her head to the side and glare at her friend. “Traitor.”
“Let’s go,” I stated firmly as I got to my feet. She protested weakly as I swept her into my arms, and I scowled at her as I stormed from the room. “Not another word, angel eyes. You’ve already earned yourself a red ass for keeping this from me all day.”
Angelique gasped and smacked my chest. “You can’t spank a pregnant woman!”
I glanced down and despite my worry, I smirked at her. “I can wait until the doctor gives you the all clear.”
We reached the car, and as I was helping her into the passenger seat, she mumbled, “It’s not like you’ll remember in six weeks.”
I scoffed and carefully pulled the seat belt over her large belly. “I will never forget this, angel eyes.” After shutting the door, I raced around to my side and got in. I headed toward the hospital, and with every mile, my worry increased. Especially as Angelique’s moans became more anguished. To take both of our minds off
the situation, I blurted, “And don’t think you’ve gotten out of the spanking you earned for last week.”
Her head popped up and swung in my direction. “What, are you keeping a tally or something?” she asked incredulously.
“Yup,” I replied simply.
Before she could respond, we pulled into the emergency room drive, and I hopped out to grab someone with a wheelchair.
Six hours later, my exhausted wife cuddled our little boy in her arms and beamed up at me. “We did good.”
I was still in awe of her and shook my head. “You were incredible, angel eyes. I just stood there and watched.”
A sly smile slipped across her face as she looked up at me. “Still think I earned those spankings?”
I chuckled and gave her a soft kiss on the lips before brushing my mouth over the top of my son’s fuzzy little head. “After watching you give birth, I’m not sure there is anything you could do to earn a pink handprint on your ass.”
Angelique giggled, and her eyes gleamed devilishly as she winked. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”
Epilogue
Angelique
“Nope. No way.” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest. “My precious baby boy isn’t going to do a sport where the whole point is for someone else to try to beat him up.”
My gorgeous hubby met my glare with a grin, tugging me close and pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “You’re so fucking cute when you go all mama bear over the kids.”
“Don’t even try to charm me into changing my mind,” I warned as I wagged my finger at him.
He nipped the tip with his teeth, sending a shiver down my spine. “Would I try to do a thing like that?”
“Absolutely,” I grumbled, narrowing my eyes. His grin widened because he knew darn well that he could charm me into almost anything. With the way I reacted to him, it didn’t take much effort on his part, either. Just his brief kiss and smile had me second-guessing myself already. “But I managed to withstand the puppy dog eyes Marcus flashed my way when he came home talking about karate lessons. That should tell you how against the idea I am since he has me wrapped around his little finger. He’s like his daddy, nearly impossible for me to resist.”
“Nearly impossible, huh?” He slid his hands down my back to cup my butt cheeks as he pressed his hard-on against my core. “Maybe I need to test how strong your willpower truly is by devouring your little—”
I slapped my hand over his mouth to stop the flow of words, my eyes darting over to the other side of the room where our toddler, Aria, was showing her big brother her newest dolly. We bought it while we were at the mall having girl time. We’d had a great day...up until the moment Saint and Marcus returned from their boy time, and my son chattered nonstop about the karate lessons he wanted to take. I wasn’t surprised he was interested in them since he was a mini-me version of his daddy, but I thought I’d have more time before something like this came up. He was only four, way too young in my mind for him to be taking martial arts lessons. “He must be even more excited than I thought if you’re already bringing out the big guns to try to talk me into karate.”
“Maybe I just wanted to remind you how big my gun is since we were interrupted before I had the chance to use it this morning,” he grumbled.
“Daddy has a gun?” Marcus shrieked, running over to us. “Can I see it? Have you ever shot someone?”
“No, he doesn’t have a gun,” I corrected, bending low to pick Aria up when she trailed him.
She had her new doll cradled in her arms, but as soon as she noticed I was standing next to her daddy, Aria dropped it like a hotcake and reached for him. “Daddy!”
Saint caught her as she leaped into his arms, and he swung her around in a circle. My lips curved up in a smile as her giggles echoed around the living room.
“Why did Daddy say he had a big gun?” Marcus asked with a pout, tugging on my pants to get my attention.
“It’s a figure of speech,” I explained. “He was talking about something else and used ‘big gun’ as a metaphor.”
Marcus’s little nose scrunched up as he considered what I’d said. “What’s a meatyfour?”
Saint shifted his hold on Aria to flex his arm. “It’s when you use a different word to describe something, like when someone calls their biceps the big guns.”
“Oh!” Our son nodded, and a lock of his thick, dark hair fell on his forehead. “I get it!”
“Me,” Aria garbled, mimicking her brother’s head movement.
She didn’t like to be left out of anything, which gave me an idea that might just get Saint on my side. “How young can the students be at the karate place you guys found?”
“Marcus would be in their toddler program for now, with the two- to four-year-olds. It’ll give him a chance to learn the ropes before he moves on to the children’s class,” Saint explained.
“Two?” I echoed with a mischievous grin.
“Yes,” he drawled, setting Aria on the floor as his eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why?”
I waited until Aria toddled off to the toy box on the other side of the room with Marcus at her side. “I think we should sign both of them up for the class. Together.”
“Both of them?” His dark gaze slid to our daughter, and he emphatically shook his head. “No fu—reaking way is my little princess taking karate.”
I quirked a brow at him. “But it’s fine for my precious baby boy to do it?”
“Crap, you’ve got me there,” he groaned, making me giggle because even after four years, I wasn’t used to his semi-cleaned up language. He pulled me close and conceded, “If you’re really against the karate lessons, we can talk to Marcus together and let him down gently.”
I loved how Saint was willing to see my side of things as much as I hated disappointing Marcus. I glanced over at him and thought about how excited he’d been when he was telling me about the class they’d watched this afternoon. “I guess if the karate is for toddlers, it can’t be too bad.”
“The kids were cute as hell in their little uniforms.” He tugged me into his embrace, my back pressed to his chest and his chin resting on the top of my head as we watched our children play together. “I think you’ll be surprised by how the classes go. The kids run through extremely basic kata, and there’s no physical contact among the students. They’re nothing like my matches, more of a Matchbox car compared to a semitruck.”
“Go ahead and sign Marcus up, and I’ll look for a tumbling class or something so Aria won't feel left out,” I offered as I rubbed my thighs together, remembering how turned on I got whenever I watched him fight.
“Thanks, angel eyes. You’re such a good mom,” he murmured against my ear. His hot breath sent a shiver down my spine that intensified at the heat in his tone when he added, “I think you need another baby, and I’m going to use my big gun to give you one tonight.”
He followed through on that promise...times two.
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The writing duo of Elle Christensen and Rochelle Paige team up under the Fiona Davenport pen name to bring you sexy, insta-love stories filled with alpha males. If you want a quick & dirty read with a guaranteed happily ever after, then give Fiona Davenport a try!
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Fight Me, Baby Page 6
