by J. Sterling
“You’re so beautiful, angel. So fucking beautiful.” He kissed me again, his hands gently kneading my sensitive breasts. “Does that hurt?”
“No,” I said, and his mouth moved to my nipples, sucking one inside and then biting it gently, eliciting a half moan, half scream from me. My hips ground in a circular motion as I begged, “Don’t stop.”
“I’m not going to stop until I make you come.”
His words alone were almost my undoing. “I love that dirty mouth.”
“Being pregnant has changed you,” he said, teasing.
I reached for his neck, pulling his head again toward my waiting breasts, and he eagerly obliged my nonverbal request. I threw my head back in pleasure, loving every single thing this man was doing to my body.
His fingers entered me, curving and finding my spot. He worked them in and out as he traced a line lower on my body with his tongue. Lowering his head between my thighs, he licked, softly at first, then dived in like it was his last meal.
“Holy fuck.” The thought in my mind flew right out of my mouth without restraint.
“Good, angel?” he murmured, keeping his mouth on me as his fingers slid in and out, driving me crazy.
“Hell yes, babe. So good.”
I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him tight against me, praying he wouldn’t stop until I came, which was going to be in about ten seconds if he kept using his magic tongue on me.
“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” he murmured against me, still licking and sucking.
“I love you too. I’m gonna come.”
My release crept up on me, slowly at first, then bursting with sudden ferocity.
“Oh, Ryan. Don’t stop. I’m . . .” I moaned and bucked against his face as my insides exploded, ecstasy streaking through my body like a meteor shower.
When I finally stilled after my orgasm, breathing hard, Ryan smiled as he moved his body above mine, the tip of his dick at my entrance.
“Stop,” I said, and he froze.
“Are you okay?”
“Get on your back.”
“So bossy,” he mocked, but he did as I asked.
I positioned him at my entrance and lowered myself slowly at first. Then took him all the way in, as fully as I could.
“You feel amazing,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.
I couldn’t have looked away from him if I tried. Our connection was too strong.
As I rocked on top of him, my body heavier than it had ever been, I wondered if I was crushing Ryan with my weight. But he never complained or said a word other than it felt amazing.
Desire pulsed through me, and my need to have him hard and fast took over. I fucked him harder than ever, becoming a wild thing. Nothing was enough. I was insatiable.
Suddenly, something inside me ached, cramped, and I froze as the pain ricocheted through my insides.
“Sofia? Angel?” Ryan’s strong hands gripped my shoulders as he pulled me off of him easily and laid me down on the mattress.
I tried to catch my breath. “It hurts. Something’s wrong,” I said through clenched teeth as pain ripped through me.
“Don’t move,” he said, and I felt the bed dip.
It seemed like no time had passed and then he was fully dressed, kneeling in front of me with clothes for me in hand. “Let’s get you dressed.”
“But . . . Matson.” I forced out the words through my discomfort, not sure what I meant. It was hard to think straight. I’d never experienced pain like this.
“I’ll call your mom,” he said, but then I reminded him that she was sick and keeping her distance so I didn’t catch whatever she had. “Right. Mariana then?”
When I nodded, he fired off a text to Matson’s other grandma. Then he lifted me to my feet and helped me dress. I hated maternity clothes.
“Grant and Mariana are on their way.”
“They were together?” I tried to sound playful, but it came out strained instead.
“Apparently,” he deadpanned without any of the lightness I expected from him.
“Are you mad at me?” I had to ask, knowing the answer was most likely no. He almost seemed to be.
Ryan reached for my hand and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “No. God no, angel. I want to get you and the baby checked out, okay? I’m just worried.”
When he kissed my head and his eyes turned glassy, my breath caught. If he cried right now, I’d absolutely lose it.
Moments later, Mariana and Grant practically burst through the front door. They hurried through the house and came to a stop outside our closed bedroom door.
Knocking softly, Grant asked, “You two heathens decent?” Mariana chastised him in hushed tones.
“Come in, old man,” Ryan said, and I was thankful for the spark of humor in his voice.
“Oh, Sofia, what happened?” Mariana cried out when she saw me, her face creased with concern.
Oh dear God. I couldn’t tell her the truth, that I was riding my boyfriend too hard, and now I was cramping and worried that maybe we really did hit the baby in the head.
“My stomach hurts. Cramps,” I said, skipping over the details. Then I tried to stand up straight, but my body refused, and I glanced at Mariana in question.
Her silence told me everything. She had no idea what it meant either.
“We need to go. Thank you both so much for coming over. Matson shouldn’t wake up, but if he does, tell him we went out for food. I’ll tell him the truth later,” Ryan said, snapping out parental instructions like he’d been doing it his whole life.
He wrapped an arm around my waist and started to walk with me. Apparently, I was moving too slowly, because he suddenly leaned over and swept me into his arms.
Grant held the front door open as Ryan maneuvered us through it.
“Drive safe,” Grant yelled as he closed the door behind us.
I tightened my arms around Ryan’s neck, praying silently that the baby was okay.
Freaking Out
Ryan
I tried to stay cool on the outside, but inside, I was completely losing it.
Sofia needed me to be strong, I knew that much, but I was terrified that we’d done something to hurt the baby—or her. If anything was wrong with either of them, I’d never recover. Especially if it was something that could have been avoided, and my inserting my Tab A in Sofia’s Slot B could have definitely been avoided.
I did my best to tone down my fear and worry as we waited in a curtained-off area in the hospital’s emergency room. Sofia lay on the bed with me standing at her side, holding her hand. I refused to stop touching her, and there was no way in hell I was going to leave her side.
The doctor walked through the door with a smile on her face. That had to mean good news, I convinced myself.
“Hi, I’m Dr. Anson. I heard you had a scare,” she said as she adjusted her glasses, her tone confident but calming.
Sofia nodded, her hand involuntarily squeezing the life out of mine.
“Mind if I check you out?” the doctor asked, as if either of us would have said no. That was the whole reason we were there in the first place.
“Please.”
The doctor lifted Sofia’s gown and gently pressed on her swollen abdomen. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Sofia’s gaze shot to mine, and I gave her a small smile. Her cheeks immediately flushed, and I wondered if she’d be able to get the story out or if I would have to tell the doctor.
“Well, we were . . .” Sofia paused and swallowed hard, so I took over.
“We were having sex and she started having pains,” I said quickly and painlessly. Sofia gave me a grateful look and her face relaxed.
“Okay. And the pain, it’s never happened before tonight?” Dr. Anson asked.
“Never,” Sofia said, clearly more comfortable.
“And you’ve been having intercourse regularly?”
“Well, this one thinks he’s going to hit the baby in the head.�
�� Sofia thumbed in my direction, giving the doc a wide smile.
Dr. Anson cupped her hand around her mouth and leaned toward Sofia, saying in a stage whisper, “They all think that.” She gave me an amused look. “It doesn’t happen, you know. You can’t hit the baby in the head. You’re not scarring the baby for life. You’re not hurting the baby. Trust me, I’ve heard it all.”
“Then what happened tonight?” I asked, genuinely concerned.
“Everything feels okay, Sofia.” She pulled her hands away from my angel’s belly and covered her back up. “Sometimes this happens. It’s perfectly normal.”
“But why did it happen this time and not before?” Sofia asked.
“It could be from extra blood flow. Your body is swollen from carrying a child, and sometimes that swelling affects things that otherwise would be normal and painless. Maybe you tried a new position?” The doctor patted Sofia’s sheet-covered knee. “But if you start to bleed, or if the cramping doesn’t subside within an hour after it starts, you need to come back in.”
Dr. Anson turned to face me with a small smile. “And yes, before you ask . . . you can continue having sex. You won’t hurt the baby.”
“I wasn’t even going to ask,” I lied with a straight face.
After we’d signed a bunch of discharge papers, I wrapped my arm around Sofia’s waist and pulled her tight against my side as we left the hospital. I was grateful that nothing was wrong with the baby or my woman.
“You feel okay?” I asked as we walked toward the car.
“I do. Except I’m hungry. Again,” she said with a groan. “I’m never going to lose this baby weight.” When I laughed, she swatted me. “I mean it. He or she has me eating carbs like my life depends on it. It’s crazy that I’m not craving meatballs, especially since I’m starting to turn into one.”
I laughed again until she leveled me with a glare that instantly killed my smile.
“You don’t look like a meatball, angel. You look like the furthest thing from a meatball.” Wait, what the hell was the opposite of a meatball?
When we walked into the house, Grant and Mariana were both asleep in the living room. Mariana was lying on the couch, her feet propped onto Grant’s lap. His head was back in what looked like a painful position, and he was snoring.
I shook him gently, and he startled.
“Hey.” His voice was more gravelly than usual, and he rubbed Mariana’s calves to get her to wake.
“You’re back,” she said as she sat up. “What did the doctor say?”
“That everything was totally normal, and it should be okay,” Sofia said, but she didn’t sound convinced.
“You all right, dear?” Mariana asked, the concern clear in her tone.
“It was just weird. And the doctor blew it off like it was absolutely nothing at all.” Sofia shook her head. “But it didn’t feel like nothing. It hurt.”
Sofia hadn’t admitted all that to me on the drive home. For the most part, she’d stayed fairly quiet. I’d let her be, assuming she was processing things or just tired.
“Should we go back?” I asked. “I can take you back.”
“No, babe.” She touched my shoulder. “It’s just a little unnerving to be told that nothing was going on in there, when it definitely felt like something was.”
“But you’re not in any pain now, are you?” Mariana asked.
Sofia shook her head.
I blew out a relieved breath. “Then I’m sure it’s fine.”
“I’m glad you’re okay, angel.” Grant leaned toward my woman and pressed a kiss to her cheek, giving me the stink-eye over her shoulder. He knew damn well I wouldn’t create a scene right now.
“Thank you both so much for coming over.” Sofia gave them each a hug, then walked them toward the front door.
“Of course. Anytime, you know that,” Mariana said with a smile.
“Matson didn’t wake up?” I asked.
“Not a peep,” Grant said, then placed his hand on the small of Mariana’s back and ushered her outside.
“Thanks again.” I closed the door and turned to find Sofia watching me. “You good?”
She nodded and waited for me to reach her, then took my hand and walked me down the hall toward our bedroom. Just the feel of her hand in mine filled my heart with so much love, I thought it might burst. I never knew that love could feel like this—so complete, secure, and safe.
I was the luckiest damn man on the planet, and I knew it.
Land Mines
Ryan
The bar was fairly empty the next day as I filled my brothers in on the scare with Sofia. I’d told them both over an hour ago, and their concerned expressions still hadn’t faded.
“You’re scaring the customers,” I said, referring to Frank’s scowl, then added, “More than usual.”
He glared at me, and even Nick refused to crack a smile at my joke.
“Like you wouldn’t be the same way,” Frank said with a grimace, “if the situation were reversed.”
My stomach twisted. If anything happened to Claudia or Jess, I’d definitely be as freaked out as my brothers. But before I could tell Frank as much, he pointed a finger at me.
“You have no idea what it felt like when we learned that Derek almost shot you.”
I hadn’t expected those words. Taken aback, I cocked my head to the side and met his hard gaze.
“It’s almost like we have some kind of PTSD or something,” Nick said.
“He’s right.” Frank nodded in agreement. “Just hearing you talk about Sofia and the hospital . . . it all came rushing back. The feelings of that night.”
Derek was the last thing I expected either of them to be thinking about. I had no idea that what happened with him still haunted my brothers, but of course that made sense. At first, we talked about it until we were all blue in the face, but not so much anymore. It hadn’t been brought up in a while.
“You could have died, Ryan,” Nick said. “I think about that all the time.”
“You do?” I asked almost incredulously.
“Hell yes I do,” he said, sounding both hurt and annoyed. “So many things could have gone wrong. What if the cops hadn’t gotten there in time. If Frank hadn’t had the foresight to call them. If Derek hadn’t just taken one shot. We would have never recovered from losing you. And I had no idea any of it was even going on.”
I tried to keep up with Nick’s rambling thought process and logic, but I was confused by his last statement. “What do you mean, you had no idea?”
Nick swallowed hard, getting a little emotional. “There wasn’t a single part of me that tingled with awareness that something was off. I’d been home with Jess, probably happy as hell doing whatever we were doing. But the point is that I didn’t know. I didn’t sense anything. And you could have been shot and killed!”
“How could you have known?” Frank’s tone was all business, but his expression had gentled in sensitivity to Nick’s feelings.
Our baby brother flung his hands wide. “Don’t you think we should know when something’s wrong with one of us? Like some kind of sixth sense, a tingling in your gut?”
I shrugged. I’d never really thought about it. “I don’t know, Nick. It’s not like we’re not triplets.”
“But we’re brothers,” Nick insisted. “And we’re close. I just assumed that if a life-or-death situation was going on with one of us, we’d all know it somehow. I’m mad that I didn’t know. I feel like I failed you.”
Frank frowned. “How long have you been keeping this in?”
“It’s not like that,” Nick said as rolled his eyes. “I have a lot of thoughts about what happened.” He shrugged. “They just sort of live in my head now.”
I reached for his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, trying to reassure him. “You couldn’t possibly have known, and you didn’t fail me. What if the situation were reversed and it happened to you instead of me?”
Nick’s eyebrows drew together as he considered my q
uestion. “Okay, what if it had?”
“Would you be upset at me for not knowing something was happening to you?”
He barked out a laugh. “No. You’re not psychic. How could you possibly know?” He stopped short and released a long breath. “Okay, I get it. Point taken.”
“But still,” Frank said, “the mention of a hospital and Sofia in the same sentence might send us off the deep end for a little while.”
“I’m sorry for that. I didn’t even think about it,” I said, and I was.
I was sorry that my brothers were still so affected by the night I tried so hard to forget, but never would. Sorry that we clearly hadn’t talked about it enough, because it still lingered in our subconscious, ready to strike at any time.
“What’s it take to get a drink in this shithole?” someone called out in a deep, gravelly voice.
We all turned to face a giant of a man who looked more out of place than an Eskimo on a sunny beach. He had to be at least six foot five, with a barrel chest and fists the size of cantaloupes. He was dressed in all black—black tee, black jacket, black slacks, and black boots, with hair and eyes to match. He looked like he was in his early fifties, age lines radiating from the corners of his eyes. Everything about this man screamed intimidation, and I wasn’t easily intimidated.
I moved down the bar toward him. “What can I get for you?”
He narrowed his eyes at me, his expression cold.
I could usually turn the sourest of customers sweet in no time. But I wasn’t sure this man had a sweet bone in his body, so I didn’t bother trying. I kept my expression neutral, not giving him my most charming smile like I normally would with a difficult customer.
“Whiskey, straight. No rocks. And nothing shitty,” he growled.
I turned around to grab our most expensive bottle. If this guy wanted to be an asshole, the least he could do was pay for it.
I set the glass on the bar in front of the stranger, who stood tall, refusing to sit. I cast a wary look at each of my brothers, who had both edged closer. This man looked like more than a little trouble, and we all knew it.
