Intrigue Me
Page 16
I took her hand and slid the ring on her finger, and not quickly enough, she was crawling back into my arms, her lips covering mine as my hands curled through the locks of her hair. It was official. She was mine now. Not just for a day. Not for a week, or even a month. The girl I had loved since I was seventeen—the mother of my child and the one growing inside her—was agreeing to be my wife.
Chapter Nineteen
Poetry, Texas
Nine Years Later
Ava
“Dammit to hell, Ava. I don’t like it! She’s not ready!”
I smiled at a stiff-necked Tage and leaned over, kissing him softly on the cheek. He was so overly-protective of Melli, and now that our second daughter was only weeks from making her entrance into the world, I wondered if some of his vigilant instincts would ease just a bit.
“Babe, she’s sixteen.”
In all honesty, I was equally nervous. I was just able to hide my feelings a little better when it came to Melli having a boyfriend. He was nice enough. And smart. And he truly cared for my Melli. I could see it in his eyes every time he looked at her, another mother’s intuition.
“He damn well better not touch her leg again. I swear to fuck, Ava. If the little prick puts his hand on her thigh again, he’s going to find himself having the worst day of his life.”
I held back giggles, reaching for my husband’s hand. Sometimes, I was still dumbfounded that I shared children with this beautiful man who I cherished and loved more than my life. Even with the challenges that surrounded us, most days I felt like I could do two-hundred jumping jacks. Recite romantic poetry, and smile until my face broke.
Life was good. I couldn’t be happier.
Melli was barely sixteen, and Briand was nine. Oddly enough, they shared the same birthday, and Melli couldn’t love her little brother anymore. Continuing to attend the Great Love Academy, despite the long commute, she was happy there. She still enjoyed the art and dance lessons the school provided, though seeing her boyfriend had definitely taken precedence over painting and ballet.
Seeing her this happy was such a blessing.
She’d met Clay on a whim when he was meandering through the hallway searching for the auditorium. He had a younger brother that attended the school and had run into Melli, the rest being history.
I didn’t admit it to Tage, but I had a good feeling about this young man and our daughter.
Things hadn’t been all picture perfect for her the last few years. We had been through a few scary, possibly life-threatening health challenges. Six months after we returned from an Alaskan cruise, where we had been married at sea in a simple, private ceremony performed by the ship’s captain, a heart defect had been discovered, a disorder almost one-half of children with Down syndrome possessed. Receiving an echocardiogram when she was an infant hadn’t detected the defect. But we were blessed. It was minor and completely treatable with medication. Melli also had hypothyroidism, something else that would require daily hormones for the entirety of her life.
Children and adults with Down syndrome would always live with an increased risk for health issues, but luck had been in our court in that our Melli had nothing untreatable. I prayed every single night that her health would stay strong.
I couldn’t bear not having this beautiful creature in my life.
After my own pregnancy-related health scare, spending the majority on bed rest and working from home, Briand Michael had been born perfectly healthy at exactly 6:52 AM, only minutes earlier than his sister had made her entrance. He resembled his daddy, though Lara Beth, my closest friend, claimed it was me who he looked like. Just like his father, he was one of the smartest people I’d ever come across. Already determined he was going to cure cancer one day, he was a fourth grader, and in his second year of playing tackle football at The Heritage Academy, an elite private school for the gifted. I had pleaded with Tage to make him wait another year or two before playing football. Young, and already participating in Little League baseball, he had years ahead of him to play contact sports.
But we were living in Poetry now, a small country community in East Texas in the very heart of Texas football country. I never had a chance. Against my better judgment, I’d lost that battle a long time ago. Tage and Briand were huge lovers of football, and I couldn’t, and wouldn’t try changing that. So every time I watched my son take a hard hit, I just held my breath tight, my heart stopping as I said silent prayers, until he was back on his feet.
Life was full of challenges, with peaks and valleys ahead that I knew we would eventually have to face. But life was good. I had ended up exactly where I needed to be. With the man I’d loved since I was seventeen. Every day I awoke looking nowhere but forward to what this crazy ride called life had in store for our little family next. The challenges would never end. But I couldn’t be happier.
****
Tage
It was nearly ten when I got both kids settled for bed. Now it was our time.
When I walked through the bedroom door, the scent of butter and black pepper hung in the air. Reclined in bed, Ava was naked, her long waves falling down almost to the tops of her fuller than normal breasts. My God, she was beautiful. My groin tightened at the sight of her, a reaction I couldn’t prevent no matter how hard I tried. Her eyes were hooded, her mouth parted, as she lifted a single kernel of popcorn between her lips.
She held out the bowl. “Join me, babe?” she whispered in a tone that was pure sex.
Two kids who both had daily activities brought on a lot of changes in a married couple’s life. Even with Ava working from home, Issy spending time with Briand when she was in town, and Melli spending more and more time with this damn boy I wanted to castrate, we were usually both bone tired once nightfall arrived. Plus, Ava was full of baby number three, her hormones spread from one end of the map to the other.
Pregnancy was a funny, beautiful thing. Only a mind-reader could figure out the way a woman’s mind worked when she was full of child. Ava claimed there would be no more pregnancies after this one, but if things went my way, we wouldn’t stop until we had a house full of damn kids.
She stared at me, studying. Seducing me with those damn spellbinding eyes. On any given day, she was so damned beautiful, but when she was pregnant, her tits and nipples swollen, her sun-kissed skin absolutely glowing, she damn near radiated beauty.
And sexuality.
Even eight months pregnant and unable to find a comfortable position to get a good night’s sleep, she still had that look in her eyes. Inviting. Arousing. Willing. Still offering me her submission.
My pulse was pounding. I was two seconds from scooping her up in my arms and taking her out into the backyard, fucking her in the hammock, then counting the stars and nibbling on her favorite pregnancy food, black-peppered popcorn, as we talked about the day and the future, while her ice-cold feet tangled between mine.
That hammock had been one of the best purchases I had ever made. Ava swore baby number three had been created there.
“Joining my beautiful naked wife is conceivably the best damned offer I can think of.”
She lowered the bowl onto the bedside table and kicked the sheets back, giving me a straight shot of her bare pussy and running a hand between her thighs, then over her swollen clit. “I love you, Tage.”
“Ava.”
Lust glimmered in her blue eyes, her voice soft and sultry, radiating through me with a wicked hot reminder of days past. My cock came to full life, hard and hungry.
“And I love you, angel. With every breath I breathe.” I turned toward the television, and more repeats of Game of Thrones.
“Is it me you really love?” I asked teasingly, dropping my pants to the floor and climbing into bed beside her. “Or is it just hormones, combined with a television full of hot, hard-bodied, naked men, that have you touching yourself?”
“Well the hot bodies certainly don’t hurt, but from the looks of things, it seems I have my own hot-bodied hunk to contend with.�
�� She leaned over, pressing her soft palm against my stiffening cock. “It appears the naked women have quite the effect on you as well.” She took me in her hand and squeezed. “Don’t you miss it, Tage?”
My brow shot up, right along with my dick. “Miss it? Care to explain, angel?”
“You know what I mean. You and me … or kitten. Before pregnancy number three. The Bastards.”
“The Bastards?” I gulped, an evil grin crossing my face. “All the damn time, angel. All. The. Damn. Time.”
“Well?” Ava responded, studying me with fire in her eyes and squeezing hard at my shaft. “Lat oss spela. Let’s play, baby.”
“Lat oss spela you say?” A groan rumbled up my chest, and I grabbed her, sliding her palm up and down the length of my heavy cock. “You know where The Bastards are. And grab the handcuffs while you’re at it. Top drawer on the right … kitten.”
The American Dream wasn’t all fame and fortune. It was the simple things. Liking the face in the mirror. Looking forward to another day. Another beautiful sky. The voices of our loved ones.
Life was good. In fact, it was better than good. It was wonderful.
My business was going strong.
My family was growing, and I’d even allowed my parents in my house a few times the past year.
We were happy.
We were together, exactly where we were always meant to be.
My wife smiled, knowing very well that I wouldn’t be overly rough when she was full of my child. I would only tease her beautiful enlarged nipples with clamps. And the cuffs were adjustable. That was a promise between us, and an oath I’d made to myself. But once her breasts were empty and her body healed from childbirth, we both knew the clamps would return to tight and painful, the cuffs to chafing and unyielding. She claimed to hate nipple clamps, but I knew better. And I had several surprises waiting for my kitten, more than one that may very well give The Bastards a whole new name.
The two of us had fought through our challenges together, faced every obstacle as a family. And I couldn’t wait to see what life brought next.
From today until my last breath on this earth, it was only me and her. Her and me. Us.
The End
Other Books by Lacee Hightower:
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