His Bride (Frisky Beavers Quickies Book 3)

by Ainsley Booth

  “There’s lots of time. Traveling with an RCMP escort gets me through expedited security every time.” She tips her head back and I drop my mouth to taste the sweet expanse of her neck. “Oh, yeah. Gavin… Just like that.”

  I add another finger, stretching her wide. “I’m going to fuck you hard and fast, Sprite.”

  “Your pleasure is my pleasure,” she whispers, and her pussy flutters around my fingers, proving that point.

  “When you get back, we’ll have a weekend together. No interruptions.” Or at least, nothing scheduled. There was no controlling international events.

  She rolls her hips, bumping her clit against my thumb. “It’s okay. I just wanted to be with you today, before I leave.”

  It’s not okay. This is our third month trying to get pregnant, and we’re going to miss the window of opportunity because she’ll be in Chicago when she ovulates. And that’s a real shame, because I’ve learned that an ovulating woman is the horniest animal in the world—and Ellie was already pretty hungry for sex.

  Banging on schedule is a bear when that schedule includes more flights in a month than most people will take in their lifetime.

  Ellie reaches for me, her mouth soft and wet as she wraps her arms around my neck.

  With a growl, I unzip, and wrap my fist around my more-than-ready cock.

  I bring us together with force, pushing my heavy length into her. Claiming my space inside her body. Marking what’s mine.

  I pick her up and turn, meaning to aim for the wall, but I miss and bump her against the shutters.

  “Careful,” she gasps. “We don’t want to break those again.”

  I wince as I look at the cracked wooden slat. Maybe crazy glue will fix it this time, and I won’t have to put in a work order. I shift her sideways and brace myself against the wall with one hand while I squeeze her ass with the other. “Worth it to be inside you.”

  “Oh, most definitely.” She whimpers as I pinch her ass, so I do it again. Harder, this time. I’ll leave my mark on her in a way she’ll feel all the way to Chicago. Make a bruise she can look at in the mirror tonight in her hotel room and remember just how crazy her husband is for her.

  “One of these months we’ll be in the right place at the right time,” I promise her, fucking harder and faster until she bites her lip and starts to whine. I shift my hold on her and cover her mouth at the same time as she reaches between us and presses against her hard little clit. “One of these months I’m going to come inside you and make a baby and it’s going to be perfect.”

  She comes in a hard, crashing climax that milks my release right after it. I press her hard against the wall and bury my face in her neck.

  “This is perfect already,” she whispers against my temple before sighing. “Kind of crazy, but definitely perfect.”

  I lower her to the ground, then tuck my junk away before I stride to the bathroom on the other side of my office. I wet a cotton handkerchief I have in my pocket for exactly this reason, and return to where she’s still leaning against the wall, legs pressed together, skirt held high.

  I drop to my knees in front of her and press a kiss to her thigh. She smells like sex, and I breathe her in before I gently part her legs and clean her up.

  I want her to hold every drop of my seed inside her, but that’s not practical or possible.

  Soon, though.

  “I love you,” I tell her as I slide her underwear back up her legs. “So damn much.”

  She beams at me. “The feeling is mutual, husband of mine.”

  I open the brown bag of food she brought, and laugh. Inside are two smaller bags, one labelled Gavin, the other Ellie. She snatches her bag and kisses me on the cheek. “I was pretty sure I wouldn’t have time to eat here, so I asked them to keep everything separate. Gotta go.”

  And with that, she’s off. Another plane ride, another important task keeping us apart.

  6

  Ellie

  The night I get home from Chicago, Gavin is already at the residence. He’s in the kitchen making me dinner, of all things.

  “Assembling more than actual cooking, but…I thought you might like a home cooked meal.”

  I kiss him with every ounce of my appreciative being.

  He winds his hands into my hair, promising that he knows I’ve missed more than just a comforting meal. He tugs, and I close my eyes. “Mmm.”

  “You want a glass of wine with dinner?” he asks as he brushes his lips against mine.

  “Maybe. Let me go and get changed quick, then I’ll help with the salad.”

  Upstairs, I grab one of the pregnancy tests from under the bathroom sink. I stocked up in May when I thought I’d have a parade of positive results and test a couple of days in a row.

  Now I’ve been putting off this test because I have a sinking feeling that even though my period is late—by a day or two now—it’s going to be negative.

  I’m not wrong.

  “I’d love a glass of wine,” I tell Gavin when I re-join him in the kitchen. “Big. Extra. All of it.”

  He turns off the burner under the frying pan and pulls me close. “Tell me all about your trip.”

  It’s better if he thinks I’m just fried from travel. “Ahh…” I sigh. “It was good, at first, but then it got a bit repetitive. Sometimes I worry I fall into the trap of being a well-meaning person who just can’t shut up, and shutting up and listening is really the most important thing I can do.”

  “Wow, that’s kind of heavy.” He lifts my chin with a gentle press of his knuckles. “Are you talking about in academic circles?”

  I shake my head. “Not exactly, although yes, there, too. I—” I nervously scrape my teeth across my bottom lip as I hold his gaze. “I got a surprising amount of attention at this conference for being your wife. I’m just a doctoral candidate, Gavin. I should be presenting a poster and completely invisible the entire time, you know?”

  “Does that loop back to the well-meaning, but not silent enough stuff, too?”

  “I was called on in every session, even when I sat at the back. When experts were on a panel, and their voices needed to be heard. When I didn’t have anything to say!”

  “You’re one of the smartest people I know. I’m sure you had something to say.”

  “I did. That’s the thing. And sometimes, it was bullshit.”

  “Ah.” He’s smiling.

  “No, not ah. I’m not a politician, Gavin.”

  “I know.”

  “Don’t be proud of me for spouting bullshit.” I push lightly against his chest and he leans in, covering my mouth with his.

  “But I am,” he whispers after I’m dizzy from kissing. “So proud of you, for stepping out of your comfort zone and handling a challenging situation with grace and class and an extraordinary amount of intelligence.”

  “Now that is some grade A political bullshit,” I murmur as I sway against him.

  “It's not bullshit. I know for a fact you were impressive because it was all over the news.”

  Oh. God. “How much of the coverage was on global migration of women and children?” You know, the whole point of the conference.

  “All of your answers were on point.” I growl lightly, and he tugs my hair again. “I’m sorry, though. I know you’d prefer to just be Ellie at these things.”

  “You don't need to be sorry. I do quite like being Mrs. Gavin Strong, you know. Even when it involves news cameras. I'm just tired and cranky.”

  He pitches his voice lower, to a sexy, urgent rub of words. “You need wine, and dinner, and a good, hard spanking.”

  I do. All three. Gavin's spankings unlock something in me and help me refocus my energy.

  Plus they make him hard, and me wet, and then we have spectacular sex, which is also great for one's spirit.

  “I’m going to risk sharing one more thing,” he adds. “There were some pictures of you heading to yoga one day.”

  I give him a wary look. “Mmm?”

  He grin
s. “Are the dark purple yoga tights new?”

  I bought them with him in mind. “Yes.”

  “I like them a lot.”

  “Okay. I want my wine and dinner and spanking now.”

  He hands me my wine glass. “And you shall have all three, my bride.”

  We get the SOS text message from Max a week later. It’s baby time. Violet has gone into labour, and everyone is welcome to join them at the hospital.

  Gavin clears his schedule for the rest of the day and off we go. Sasha is getting out of a cab as we arrive, and she comes upstairs with us to get the lay of the land, then disappears again in search of flowers.

  We announce ourselves to the clerk at the desk, then take a seat in the waiting room. Max pops out briefly to give us a contraction update—Violet’s getting close, for sure—and then he disappears again.

  When Sasha returns, she’s got Lachlan, Hugh, and Beth in tow, and then others spill in after that.

  Two hours after we arrive, Max re-appears in the doorway of the waiting room. “I’m a dad,” he announces as we rush to his side. “Violet’s holding our son. My boy. I have a boy! His name is Noah. And I’m his dad.”

  Gavin gives him a big, tight hug with back thumping, then it’s my turn, and everyone else gets a good squeeze in, too.

  He goes to check on his new little family, and promises to bring Noah out so we can see him soon.

  I turn to Beth, who is crying happy tears that match my own. “A boy,” I whisper to her, overwhelmed with happiness for Max and Violet. “How amazing.”

  Gavin tugs me close, his arms going around my waist as he presses his face into my hair. He wants this, too. I close my eyes and sink into his strength, letting him hold me. We can’t rush starting a family. It’ll happen, one way or another, and until it does, we’re blessed with a new nephew-of-our-hearts.

  The next time Max appears, he’s holding a baby. His baby. A swaddled, flannel-wrapped bundle of perfection.

  Beth is closest, so she takes him in her arms and oohs and ahhs over how perfect he is. My arms ache to hold him, too, and when she passes Noah over—ever so carefully, because he’s the most precious little person in the world right now—I can’t get over how light he is.

  And how beautiful he is, too. Tiny nose, tiny mouth, fuzzy blond hair.

  Little Noah takes my breath away.

  When it’s Gavin’s turn to hold him, he lays Noah carefully along his forearm and rocks the baby back and forth like an uncle with a lot of practice at that, which he is.

  He’s going to be the world’s greatest dad, I tell myself, and my insides tighten up.

  “Hey, little man,” my husband says, rubbing the tip of his finger over Noah’s tiny fist. “Ready to take on the world?”

  Noah yawns in response.

  My shoulders shake with silent laughter as Gavin returns the littlest Donovan to his father, and then the giggles burst forth.

  “You think that’s funny?” Gavin says as he kisses my temple.

  “Very much so.”

  “He might change his mind when he’s a little older.”

  “And in the mean time, we’ve got you to fight the good fight for us.”

  I fall asleep when we get home, an accidental nap caused by reading in the sitting room upstairs, where the summer sun streams in at just the right angle.

  When I wake up, I feel all kinds of discombobulated and I go in search of Gavin. He’s in his library on the main floor, on the phone with Stew. I grab a sticky note and scrawl Do you want tea? on it.

  He shakes his head and blows me a kiss.

  The kettle has just boiled when he comes to find me in the kitchen. I’m standing in front of the fridge, trying to decide what I want to eat, so he pours the hot water over the loose leaf tea for me.

  “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “Hungry?”

  “Not sure. I’m something. Can’t decide if the nap made me queasy or hungry. Tea might settle my stomach.”

  “Maybe you should take a pregnancy test.”

  I whirl around, letting the fridge door thump shut. “What?”

  “Your period is weeks late,” he says, his eyes soft and sweet as he glances down my body. “And your breasts have been more sensitive in the last few days. If you’re feeling nauseous…”

  “I took a test,” I mutter, hope fluttering in my chest. A week ago, says a little voice in the back of my mind. I don’t want to take another one, not if it’ll be negative. “And going off the pill can make cycles a bit wonky at first.”

  He nods, but he’s still looking at me with that curiously warm expression.

  “I’ll take a test in a few days if my cycle hasn’t started again.”

  “That’s a good plan.”

  “You noticed that my period was late?”

  “I notice everything about you.”

  Hope’s wings are beating fierce and fast now. “I thought maybe my symptoms were all in my head.”

  He holds out his hand and I fold into his body. His hand squeezes my waist before sliding up to cup my breast through my t-shirt. I bite my lip at the pressure. “That’s not in your head, Sprite.”

  I nod.

  “Maybe go and take a test now.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I’ll make you a sandwich to go with the tea.”

  “Okay.”

  He strokes his fingers up to my neck and squeezes my nape. “I love you so much.”

  I kiss him, pressing my mouth against his, sucking on his lower lip. A demanding kiss isn’t usually my style, but I need something right here, in this moment. I need—

  He spins us around, pushing me up against the wall as he takes over the embrace. His tongue slides through my lips, demanding entrance to my mouth. To explore, to taste, to conquer. “Is this okay?” he asks between onslaughts, and I pull him tighter.

  If I’m pregnant, it happened when I visited his office at the start of the month. It happened just like this, with him overcome with desire, pressing me against a wall.

  I laugh gently as he kisses down my neck.

  This is so us.

  Well, it’s not like we’ll tell our kids where and when they were conceived anyway.

  “You’re laughing,” he growls.

  “I’ll tell you why after I go and pee on a stick.” I wiggle away from him and blow a kiss as I leave the kitchen.

  Five minutes later, I return, and there’s no hiding the glee on my face.

  “Good news?” he asks, standing still in the centre of the room.

  “The best,” I whisper as I launch myself at him.

  He spins me around. “We’re having a baby?”

  “Yep.” I give him a bashful smile. “You knocked me up in your office.”

  He tips his head back and shouts out a laugh. “Breaking a shutter again was totally worth it.”

  7

  Gavin

  Every minute of every day, Ellie is precious to me. But right now, I want to care for her on a whole other level than I ever have before.

  I can’t carry her and the sandwiches and the tea, but I can put all our food on a tray and juggle that with one hand while I use the other to guide her back to my library, my fingers splayed wide across the small of her back.

  I nudge a side table closer to my wingback chair, then set the tray on that before sitting down and drawing her into my lap.

  “A baby,” I murmur, tightening my hold on her. My Sprite, my bride.

  She rains little kisses all over my jaw as she nestles closer. “If everything goes well, our little person will be born next spring.”

  Our little person. Ours. Will they have her reddish gold waves? Her freckles, her serious mind, her quiet, but fierce loyalty?

  Or will they have my fire? Will we clash the way I did with my parents growing up? Will I remember to be as gracious as they were, encouraging me to find my own footing politically?

  “What are you thinking?” Ellie asks as she slowly spins around to straddle my hip
s.

  I take a deep, dragging breath and lean my head back as I look her through hooded eyes. “How I’ll handle it when we have a difference of opinion with our kid.”

  She smiles. “Probably not a concern for the first while.”

  I give her a lopsided smile. I’m drunk on the news that she’s pregnant. Totally tipsy with joy. “Maybe.”

  “This time next year, we’re going to be so sleep deprived.”

  “I can’t wait.” I tighten my grip on her. “I mean it. I’m going to do all the night wakings. All the diapers.”

  “We can share that responsibility.” We share another smile, and she looks at the food. “Can I eat now?”

  I hold her sandwich plate for her while she eats. I’m not growing a baby, I don’t need the sustenance in the same way. And I’m too excited to eat right now.

  I want…

  I want Ellie. I realize with a start that I’m hard as steel, my erection throbbing between us. The adrenaline rush of the moment has faded and in its place is a dizzying, drugging desire.

  She realizes I’m hard soon after I do. She slows her final few chews, then twists and picks up her tea cup. My delicate Sprite. Her body is going to change and bloom because of me. Because of what I’ve done to her.

  She takes a last sip of tea, then sets her cup down. She holds a silent pause there before turning back to me, heady awareness zinging between us.

  “How do you want to celebrate?” she asks quietly.

  “Inside you.”

  She nods and slips off my lap. She stands in front of me, carefully stripping away the layers between us. I hold her naked every night that we’re together, but it’s been too long since we’ve done this. The day to day running of the prime minister’s house doesn’t allow for the absolute privacy I’d need to demand Ellie be naked for me all the time.

  But I want that. I crave it, actually. We’ll need to make more time for this as our lives get busier still.