Every Last Look

by Christa Wick

  Growling with renewed need, I pushed onto one elbow. Angling my arm, I roped her long hair around my fist, securing her close to me. My other hand tested her readiness, the fingers glossing across her thighs, over her clit then down to her opening.

  "Wet already," I mused.

  "Some of us have been awake a little longer."

  I sluiced three fingers in and hooked her closer.

  "A little longer?" I chuckled. "You're soaked, love."

  I angled my hips, pressed the tip of my cock against her pussy. With a slow push forward, I buried my length in her, pulled back, buried it again. Each time, she moved to meet me, her tight depths gripping me like a vise at my retreat.

  "Filly wants to play, does she?"

  Her core squeezed at my cock.

  I pulled out, moved her with me, my hand still wrapped around her hair as if I held a set of reins.

  "Grab the crossbar," I ordered with a hot growl. "And hold tight."

  A look of pure lust shot across Quinn's delicate features. She wrapped her hands around the frame's vertical crossbar, tilted her pelvis, her pussy pushing at where her body unerringly told her my cock waited.

  I molded my body to Quinn's. Hard, tight thrusts had the oversized crown bulldozing inside her, butting against her cervix. I pulled her hair until she turned her head to one side, body straining to let me claim her mouth with the same ferocity I possessed her pussy.

  My tongue invaded, my hips slammed against her soft, yielding flesh. The bunk bed knocked over and over against the stone wall.

  When she started to burn to bright, I pulled out, rolled from beneath her and took up position behind her. Seizing her hips with both hands, I jerked Quinn onto me with each punishing thrust forward. All around my cock, her pussy coiled, the muscles intent on holding me deep, shortening my thrusts into a resolute grind.

  "Fucking goddess," I groaned, one hand dropping to find her clit and roughly tease its tender, swollen tip.

  When I pinched it, Quinn shot forward, hips bucking with a hard orgasm, her core pulsing around my shaft and head, sucking me with the same finesse her mouth had exercised that morning.

  "Baby…" I tried to take control back, tried to hold off a little longer. I pinched her clit, dug my fingers into her lush hip.

  Deaf to my warning, Quinn rabbited against my cock, riding it in short, desperate thrusts as another climax thundered through her. She cried out, clawed at the wall as her juices seeped pass the tight seal of her pussy to wet her thighs.

  A scream ripped from her throat, so did a few rough words that propelled me deeper inside her, slamming and jerking as hard as she demanded until my climax froze me in place, Quinn left dancing along the end of my dick, milking every last drop of my release, ass up, head rolling backward, the tight pussy sucking and swallowing at the same time.

  “Damn perfect goddess," I graveled on a ragged rasp, sinking into the mattress, our bodies still melded together as I clutched her tighter, unable to let go even a little.

  Quinn continued to pulse against me, every move, every shift triggering aftershocks that threatened another tidal wave of volatile pleasure. With my lips pressed against her shoulder, I reached down to pull the top sheet over our bodies.

  "Blanket's on the floor," I murmured against her skin. “Want me to get it?"

  "No, stay in me,” she answered with a sleepy mumble. “Keep me warm from the inside out.”

  My chest swelled as I pulled her back flush against my chest, my arms tightening around her in another fierce hug.

  "Always," I whispered, face tucked against her neck as we drifted back to sleep.

  Epilogue #1

  Quinn

  -- Two Years Later --

  Pain cresting, sweat pouring down my face, I just focused on my breathing. Next to me, half a dozen devices beeped. Heart rate, blood pressure…someone's watch.

  “You’re doing great, baby,” Barrett said, his big head swinging into view. “I’m right here with you.”

  I read his nervous expression through the sweat blurring my vision. I should have said something nice, should have found his hand and delivered a gentle pat.

  Instead, I growled like the mountain lion from that long-ago night.

  "I know, love," he cooed. "But you’re almost there.”

  I shook my head, tried to remember those pain management exercises I had learned.

  A few seconds later, I unleashed a string of curse words that never made it out of my mouth because the birthing instructor never thought to give instructions on magical labor breathing for three instead of two!

  Operating under the delusion that he was being helpful, Barrett panted three times then exhaled a longer breath, then immediately repeated the impromptu lesson reminder.

  Swatting at him, I missed.

  "It's okay, baby," he soothed. "I know you don't mean it."

  I countered with another growl, my hands twisting in the bedsheets.

  "When can I push?" I screamed.

  A fresh face swam into view. Gray hair, male, small beady eyes that had seemed more luminous and kind on all our prior encounters.

  "I'm going to check dilation," Doctor Newberry said before moving down to where the nurse was spreading my legs open.

  Vision clearing, I snapped at my once beloved husband as he pulled out his cellphone and called up the camera app.

  "Barrett Cole, don't you dare film down there!"

  His lips rolled inward, a contrite grin on his face.

  “Right. Of course not. Do you want some ice chips, love?”

  I bounced my head against the pillow, shook it wildly side to side. "I don't want any frackin' ice chips. I want to push!"

  Raising his head from between my thighs, Dr. Newberry nodded at the nurse then at Barrett.

  "Time to suit up, daddy."

  Stripping his gloves off, Newberry ran his hands over my bulging tummy.

  "Baby One is in a head down position," he told me. "You just keep doing your breathing exercises and you'll be holding your babies in no time."

  “My babies,” I repeated, blinking through the emotions swelling in my chest.

  Twins were a definite, but the little jokers hadn't exactly cooperated during the multiple ultrasounds to definitively reveal their respective genders. One always seemed to be positioned so that only the butt showed. While the other flashed his winkie every single time. But they kept taking turns switching positions, which was why I’d often felt like there was a rugby match going on inside me.

  "Nurse Valenzuela is going to prep you and get you into the birthing room," Newberry said as he delivered one last pat to my shoulder before walking out.

  "Where's Lindy?" I asked.

  A voice answered from the doorway. "Right here, dear daughter."

  Tears I couldn't cry in front of Barrett because I didn't want to worry him finally rolled down my cheeks.

  "I'm afraid," I told her.

  "Having twins can be scary," she agreed. "Having just one is scary."

  "How did you do this five times?"

  Brushing the damp hair from my forehead as the nurse prepared an IV site, Lindy laughed.

  "With a lot of cursing," she answered. "And hair pulling."

  "You pulled your hair?"

  Lindy patted my hand. "No, dear. I pulled Brody's. It grew back eventually."

  Bringing my hand to her lips, she kissed the knuckles.

  "You’re going to be okay, Quinn. You and the babies are going to be fine. Dr. Newberry specializes in twins. So do the nurses on his team. We wouldn't let anyone but the best take care of you."

  I nodded, exhaustion finally drying up my tears.

  The nurse signaled that it was time to roll me out of the room. Lindy planted one last kiss, this time on my forehead, then faded to the side.

  I closed my eyes, opened them untold minutes later to find myself surrounded by masks. I couldn't tell which nurse was Valenzuela. But the giant with the loving green gaze was Barrett. I knew that mu
ch, held onto it like a lifeline as Newberry ordered me to push.

  Push, breathe, push…

  I followed his direction even though it felt like a game of Twister was going on between my legs.

  "He's crowning now," Newberry advised. "Full head of hair…"

  Barrett leaned over, his camera pointed directly at the no film zone.

  There was a flurry of activity between my legs—the nurses, Newberry, Barrett. One of the women wrapped a baby in a thin blanket. All I could see were small feet kicking and dark black hair.

  "A boy," the nurse proclaimed, whisking my son off to a side table.

  "Coming in fast!" Newberry shouted. "This little one doesn't want to miss the party."

  "Caul," the second nurse said as she stood by with a blanket.

  "Wh-what?" I asked, the monitor for my heart rate beeping in distress.

  "Nothing," Newberry soothed. "Just a harmless membrane around the head. Never harmed a thing, we just don't see it that often. Comes right off."

  "It's good luck," the nurse said as she wrapped the second newborn.

  Barrett pointed at the squirming, crying bundle.

  "Did I blink and miss it or do I have a daughter?"

  "Yep," Newberry answered. "One boy, one girl!"

  Choking out a relieved cry, I tried to sit up…

  And immediately fainted.

  Muffled voices pulled me from a deep slumber. More tired than I had ever been, I tried to dive back down to the dark, quiet space I had just left.

  Soft gurgles pulled me back. Turning my head to the side, I saw Barrett in a rocking chair, a black-haired baby cradled in his arms.

  Glancing in my direction, he straightened.

  "Hey, love. How are you feeling?"

  I croaked out a non-response. Barrett stood, put the baby in the hospital crib then came to my side. He brought my bed into a sitting position then held a straw to my lips.

  "The babies are doing great," he told me as I took my first sip. "Doc Newberry says you are, too. He said typical exhaustion from having twins."

  Releasing the straw, I looked for the second crib, but didn't see it.

  "There's a viewing line in the nursery, including Aunt Dotty," Barrett told me. "Nurse said she was lucky to smuggle the one out."

  I nodded.

  A him and a her. After months of not knowing, of considering two different boy names, I finally knew what I wanted to call our children.

  "Do you want to hold him?"

  My head bobbed more vigorously.

  Barrett braced a pillow on each side of me then went to the crib, returning with our son.

  "Someone wants to join the party," an unfamiliar voice announced from the doorway.

  With my son in my arms, I looked past Barrett's broad shoulders to find a woman in a nursing uniform, her hands wrapped around the top of another crib. Behind her, Lindy and Aunt Dotty waited in the hall.

  The nurse finished wheeling the crib into the room. Straightening, she wagged a finger at me and Barrett then out in the hall at Lindy and Dotty.

  "I'm going to be back in fifteen minutes. Rules say one visitor at a time, so you all arm wrestle for who I'm going to find when I return."

  Pausing as he reached into our daughter's crib, Barrett flexed one powerful bicep and threw me a wink. Returning to my bedside, he tenderly kissed our daughter's forehead then held her low enough that I could look at her face.

  "They're perfect," Lindy scratched out, her voice rough with emotion. "Such a blessing."

  Sinking into the rocking chair, Dotty agreed.

  I passed my son to Lindy, then cradled my daughter. My chest swelled with so much love for the two infants, and for those around me, especially Barrett. I thought I was going to explode from too much happiness.

  "So," Lindy asked as she lightly bounced the baby in her arms. "What's this development do to your names list?"

  I looked to Barrett first. I hadn't really told him my idea, had only mentioned half of it.

  "I know what we want for our son," I said before my gaze shifted to Lindy. "If you approve."

  Taking the baby back from Aunt Dotty, she brought him to the bed.

  "We wanted to name him after Daddy," Barrett said.

  His voice was subdued as he spoke. I didn't know if it was merely for the benefit of little ears unaccustomed to the lights and sounds of the new world they found themselves in, or if it was a fresh sadness at his father's passing.

  Either way, I choked up and held my daughter a little more tightly.

  Lindy's head bobbed in agreement.

  "I would like that," she rasped.

  From Lindy, I looked to Aunt Dotty. The bright blue eyes clouded with emotion. Reaching out, she patted my shoulder.

  "I know what you're thinking, dear, and it's okay. You honored Jasper when you made a new life here."

  Barrett took the baby from me as I drew in a long, ragged breath. With my arms freed up, Dotty rose from the rocking chair and gave me a tight hug.

  "And this little one?" Barrett asked, his finger caressing our daughter's cheek.

  "I think I’d like to name her Dawn," I answered.

  Head bobbing, he snuggled the baby to his chest, ran his lips over the shock of hair that was just as black as her brother's.

  "That okay with you, Mama?"

  Before Lindy could answer, the nurse returned, a professional scowl flattening her face. The irritated expression evaporated as she saw the tears sparkling against Lindy's cheeks.

  "I'll take that bundle," she said, scooping Baby Brody up and placing him back in the crib.

  Circling the bed, Barrett handed our daughter to his mother. She stroked a finger near the baby's mouth, the effort earning her a small gurgle.

  "It's alright, Dawn," Lindy smiled. "Grandma's got you."

  Epilogue #2

  Barrett

  -- Four Years after the Wedding --

  I walked into the nursery with Brody hanging off one arm and Dawn off the other. Quinn waited on the loveseat positioned between the two beds, a stack of picture books in her hand. Seeing the stack, Dawn dropped to the floor.

  "Brody win!" my son proclaimed.

  Dawn held her palm out in his direction as she grabbed the green ribbon looped around the end of her toddler bed. Sticking her tongue out at Brody, she climbed up next to Quinn and relinquished the ribbon.

  "Which book?" Quinn asked.

  "Kitty," Dawn answered.

  Still hanging from my arm, Brody swung his legs and wrapped them around my thigh.

  "Brody climb Daddy."

  Laughing, I disentangled him and took a seat next to Quinn. She ran a hand through our son's hair as he wedged himself between us.

  "Dawn had the ribbon, so she gets to choose the book," she reminded him. "Who do you choose to read?"

  Brody answered by wrapping himself around my torso then growling in my ear.

  "Daddy!"

  Quinn gently elbowed my ribcage. "You've been gone three days, I hardly needed to ask."

  She transferred the book to me with a small kiss at the corner of my jaw. Pulling away, she wrinkled her nose and rolled her lips once, then swiped her hand across them.

  "Sooty kisses," Dawn giggled.

  "That's right," Quinn said, pulling our daughter onto her lap. "Daddy gives sooty kisses when he doesn't wash all the smoke off."

  Leaning in, I whispered in Quinn's ear. "Daddy needs Mommy to give him a bath before he goes to bed."

  She blushed, goosebumps racing up the curve of her bare shoulder.

  Brody wrapped his arms around my neck and levered his feet off the back cushion to forcefully rock me.

  "Kitty, Daddy!"

  "Sit down proper," I told him as Quinn passed me the picture book. I waited until he complied then turned to the first page.

  I lost something important today

  It followed me out. It wanted to play.

  Sprawling across Quinn's lap, Dawn reached out and fisted my sleeve.
>
  I look high. I looked low.

  Mommy even made the can opener go.

  Worn out from using my body as a trampoline, Brody curled against me, his eyes already drooping.

  I asked a flutterby, then I asked a snail.

  He said, "Where does one always find a cattail?"

  Dawn's hand slid down to the cushion, her eyes already closed. As I quietly continued reading, Quinn lifted our daughter and placed her on the bed, then repeated the process with Brody.

  Yes, there was one place I forgot to look.

  So I took Mommy's hand and we went to the brook.

  Reaching the end, I put the book down and kept reciting from memory as Dawn and I carefully backed from the room.

  There was kitty, he still wanted to play.

  I found something important today!

  With our escape complete, Quinn pulled me down the hall and into the master bath. I began to undress as she started the water running and dropped in a bubble bomb.

  Reaching my underwear, I paused.

  "I've seen you in your chonies, remember?"

  I nodded, my thoughts drifting to that time in Mama's living room when Quinn had held back on my return from fighting a fire. I promised her then that I would always return.

  Chucking the underwear, I slid into the water, grabbed her around the waist before she could remove her nightgown, and pulled her in with me.

  "Barrett Cole, you are worse than a toddler."

  I nuzzled her ear.

  "So spank me, love." Taking a small nip at her neck, I purred as I offered an alternative suggestion. "Or let me spank you."

  She wiggled her way around in the large garden tub until she was straddling my legs. Her breasts were above the water, the fabric of her gown soaked through so that I could see the dark circle of each nipple.

  "This was a bad one," she said.

  I knew she meant the fire I had returned from today. The destruction and injuries to both civilians and fire teams had played across the news, the coverage frequently interrupted by developments of an even bigger fire out in California with casualties.