by J. Jenkins
Opening his eyes Dylan gave her a serious look, “There will be no foolin' around in the stables 'cause we have to set a good example for the kids and what you're suggesting is completely off limits because you're pregnant.”
Carolina gave a little pout, worrying about him sneaking off to some big-busted, pink leather-clad she-minx. “But if I weren't pregnant would you take me out there?”
“It's a moot point at least for the next eight months and we won't be doing anything later cause I can barely walk.”
She silently prayed her babe would hurry and come so she could satisfy Dylan in all the ways he needed, keep him out of the clutches of the numerous women she suspected would do anything to have him for themselves. Carolina gently petted the front of his boxers, “My kiss might make you feel better.”
Dylan shooed her hand away, placing a throw pillow over tender Johnson and the two suffering Jacobs, “Can you really or are you just trying to get your hands on me?”
“I'll try,. She removed the pillow from his resisting fingers to place a chaste kiss on his skin through the opening of his boxers before agilely jumping to her feet. Looking down at him she grinned, “How's that feel?”
Dylan sighed, his eyes rolling back, lids fluttering, feeling as though he were sinking down into warm marshmallow crème, loosing time in euphoria, thick honey butter flowing slowly through his veins, “Gosh you're good,” he exclaimed worshipfully.
Carolina was hurriedly backing her way to the door, “Great so I've done right by you. Now I've got to get cleaned up before I raid the kitchen. See ya later treacle bear.”
He watched her turn and dash from the room. A long time later, he lazily got to his feet and dressed. As he stepped into the hallway, intent on finding Carolina, he heard his mother's voice once more say, “Don't let her go.”
****
The next morning Carolina, with crushed granite beneath her white sneakers, withstood the scrutiny of Chris and Vega as she waited for Patrick to back his car from the garage so Dylan could drive her SUV out to her. The couple standing against the backdrop of the sun shower yellow mansion looked weary and more than a little concerned. Their faces mirrored the gloom of the unnervingly quiet and overcast day.
Looking up at a huge neighboring tree Carolina wondered where all the swallows, jays and doves were, usually the morning was filled with their song but today she heard not a single note. Allowing her purse and gym bag to slide from her fingers to the ground, she walked over to the huge tree running her hand along the roughly textured bark, feeling a slight breeze ruffle her knee-length denim skirt. The tree's energy was weak. Moving closer she encircled as much of the trunk as she could, since an overnight illness and a serious bit of gluttony had left her belly puffed up like a soufflé, to lay her forehead against the whispering wood, giving the tree a curative to restore its health so the birds would come home.
Hearing the hum of Patrick's car as he slowly backed from the garage, Carolina released the tree. Turning, she snagged her white sweater on the bark, tearing a small hole in the knit over her left breast before she was free to walk back to the garage and wait for the appearance of Dylan in her vehicle. Bending with difficulty to pickup her bags she managed to do so just as Patrick appeared reaching out hands of assistance. Righting her posture, she smiled at him. “Wipe that worried look off your face. I'm fine.”
“You're not well Gingernut. Allow me to come with you.” He fought the urge to touch and caress her stomach, which appeared painfully distended.
She shook her head firmly. “Dylan's not tagging along and neither are you.”
“You've been awake all night, hyper to the point of mania, alternating between gluttony and bouts of vomiting. Now your stomach is so swollen you can hardly bend over. You should have gone to hospital last night. But if you don't want me or that hick you're marrying to go with you, at least allow Vega to drive.”
“You're acting like a mother hen. I'm suffering from a bad bout of nerves. Now give me a very petite kiss goodbye because Dylan's looking and I don't want the two of you arguing today like you were last night.”
At the mention of his rival, he scowled. “I don't care if he's looking,” Patrick declared dangerously, before taking her mouth in a sensual kiss of great animation. He trailed his lips across her delicate jawbone, moving down the line of her neck to the strong pulse at her throat, where he sighed heatedly, “I was your first and you were mine. He's altered you without any consideration for my feelings and to think I swore myself to that moke.” Now every time he looked at her he wanted to bed her.
Taking his face in her hands, she looked into his dark eyes, letting him see she'd always love him. “Patrick please calm yourself. Think about the boys or consider he's Chris' brother. You like him and Vega so at least try to tolerate Dylan.”
“I had immensely, enjoyable carnal relations with Vega. Chris has a brilliant mind, can spin a good yarn and match me drink for drink, but those things have no bearing on how I view that idiot you're marrying. And I want you to put my medallion back on. Don't think I didn't notice it hanging on your rear-view mirror. To hell with him if he's so insecure.” The feel of her in his arms was making him loony. Even though he'd shared a few hours of pleasure with Vega throughout the night, he now wanted Carolina like he never had before. Without regard for anyone watching, he boldly sniffed her scent, growling lustily. With her belly pushing against him, immediately his orgasm threatened and he quickly released her. Never in all his travels through space and time, had he experienced such a startling lack of control.
“I'll put the medallion back on but please no fighting or bickering. You're a visitor here. Maybe you should go back to my house if you're not going to be civil.”
“Maybe I will,” he said peevishly before turning to stride angrily into the house, giving a mighty huff as he stormed past Chris and Vega, heading for an ice cold shower.
The couple glanced after Patrick before looking back in Carolina's direction, and were in the process of waving farewell when Justin, Calder and Callum rushed around them, causing the couple to sway on their feet. The boys' whirlwind locomotion halted when they spied Dylan standing by her vehicle and they proceeded to where she stood at a much more dignified pace chorusing, “Hurry back home mom.”
“I will.” She embraced them one at a time, before they sprinted back to the house to tiptoe around Chris' glowering form. Carolina grinned broadly at the blond giant, waving to him and his beautiful wife, before they too reentered the house, leaving only Dylan and herself to say their goodbyes.
She slowly walked to him, handing her bags over so he could place them on the front passenger seat. When he turned back, she saw his exhaustion, bleary eyes with dark circles underneath and deep furrows across his brow. “Get some rest. I'm fine.”
“No you're not. When you weren't eating like a starved linebacker, you were heaving hard, which I believe was caused by your eating four huge jars of honey and just as many bottles of chili sauce, on top of everything else you got your hands on. Then you couldn't settle down, not even Chris' boring oceanic stories put you to sleep.” He closed his eyes breathing in her scent, parched Texas earth at the start of a downpour and felt the stirrings of passion.
“I was overly excited and the party revved me up more.”
“That makes sense with the boys performing for you, then the fireworks display. I have to commend that little twerp Patrick. He threw one heck of a shindig.” Despite his need to be demonstratively reserved when children could hop out at any moment, he wanted to pull Carolina into the SUV and ride her until they flattened the tires.
“The party was wonderful and the kids where fabulous but combined with all that happened earlier in the day I was pushed beyond my limits. Then the bickering between you and Patrick started worrying me and still does.” Tentatively she touched his muscled forearm with her fingers, his warmth soothing her.
“He's an insufferable horse's pa-toot. If he wanted to marry you he had years
to get you down the aisle, now he's lost his chance and he's all lathered up.” He trapped her fingers against his arm, his thumb caressing the fragile bones of her hand.
“Don't forget, I am bound to him. I need you to respect that and his parentage of the twins.” She was growing breathless from his touch, her nipples hardening.
“I'll try. But if he's not going to play along then I'm not going to waste my time.” What he really wanted to do was slide his lance in-and-out of her tight wet sheath.
She hugged him, her stomach poking against his muscular body, “Thanks for saying you'll try and as a show of good spirit allow me to wear his medallion.”
Holding her close he stroked his hands down her back to the roundness of her bottom to give the shapely curves a firm squeeze, “Nope.” His hand eased up the back of her skirt, to rest against her thigh.
“Now treacle bear don't be like that. He swore himself to you, claiming you as his brother, something he didn't even do for Ciaran. He also defended Justin's honor.”
“Shucks honey, I give him credit for all that. I wouldn't be havin' a problem 'bout the medallion if he hadn't tried stealing you from me last night,” he drawled, gently pinching her tender flesh.
She gave a startled yip, rubbing the back of her thigh. “What do you mean?'
“When I sang to you for the first time I wanted to create a memory we'd treasure. But, that elf couldn't let me have my moment. He kept making stupid remarks whilst rolling his eyes and if that weren't enough he then starts crooning to you in a fashion meant to make you think twice. I sang one song. He put on a dang show. 'Raglan Road' and 'Into The Mystic' I could understand with y'all being from the Emerald Isle, but when he started in on 'Adore' with as much sensual style as its original Minneapolis composer and performer, I wanted to snap Patrick's scrawny neck like a dry twig. That's a song for getting a woman wet and willin'. In my head, I could see him making love to you far more erotically than I have. He was rubbing my nose in the stated fact that he's the best lover you've ever had. If my brothers' wives hadn't gone gaga over him, he'd still be singing and I'd still be subject to an unwanted, private porno. Then to really set fire to my boots he goes off to play with my brothers' wives.” He ran the tips of his fingers down her breasts to rest his thumbs on her nipples.
“Only with Vega, Chris didn't mind,” she assured him, arching into his hands.
“She's my brother's wife,” he emphasized, rubbing and teasing her breasts.
“The arrangement is between Chris, Vega and Patrick.” She strained against him, her breasts excitedly leaking, wetting her blouse.
He eased her skirt higher to touch her bare bottom and his erection jumped eagerly, straining to be free. “What if she falls in love with him?”
“Vega enjoyed his company. But, she belongs with Chris. She'd never leave him and their children.” She wriggled, trying to direct his searching hand.
“Patrick is using them to get at me,” Dylan accused temperamentally, holding her steady as his lower body fitted against her, but he wanted more.
“That's not so. He feels enjoyment and pleasure with them. He's not a roaming tomcat looking to mount anything that's giving off a scent. The way he is with Chris and Vega is how he was with my brother and Clover,” she collectedly reassured as her fingers found the end of his belt, working determinedly to get inside and touch him. Then with her hands, lips and tongue she'd put a stop to his worrying.
“I should introduce him to Liz, see if he can find any enjoyment with her,” he threatened in a harassed mutter under his breath, holding her palm flat against the swollen ridge in his jeans.
“That would be unwise since he blames her for causing me such misery.” Focusing heat into her palm that lay against his erection, she saw his eyes widen in pleasure and she eased up the temperature. Sweat beaded his brow and a sexy rumble came from deep within his chest as the heat took hold of him.
He closed his eyes, rocking his hips into her heated touch feeling the fire and the ecstasy. Just short of panting he asked, “And what all does he blame me for?”
“He's upset that you changed me and that I'm not exclusively his anymore. Soon he'll settle back into his old reserved self.” She heard his excited love sounds rolling around the confines of his chest as he struggled to remain silent. Tightly squeezing his bulging manhood, she pleaded seductively, “Oh treacle bear roar for me just a little bit.”
His rumble was sonorous, shaking the ground, but not from pleasure. He feared Patrick's wanting her and his dread dampened his ardor. “I don't feel better knowing any of that. I suspect he's plannin' to make his hold on you legal. You were in love with him from the moment you met, didn't deny what you felt. He didn't need to sing to you, didn't have to do anything to make you think he's a god. But me, you told there's no such thing as love at first sight and I've had to beg, plead, and threaten to get you to say the words. I need to know if he ever asks you to legally wed him you'll say no?”
She was disappointed. She'd hoped to give him total pleasure before she left and now his worries had softened his steel. Taking his strong, glorious face in her hands she looked squarely into his eyes declaring, “I will never leave and if you want you can sing for me now. I know the song you chose was special, echoing what you said about my hair our first night together, 'to catch a flame.' I've never forgotten.” What she really wanted was for him to take her right there behind the open door of the SUV. She was positive only a few woodland creatures were about and they wouldn't care.
Extricating his face from her hold, he complained wretchedly, “You'll always love him more than me. Justin and Calder both said so.”
“I'll cherish the two of you differently. Hop up in the driver's seat and I'll show you how much I love you,” she reached for his belt again but he shied away from her.
With the index finger of his left hand, he picked at the snagged hole in her sweater, over the region of her heart, his eyes focusing downward on her enlarged stomach drawling desirously, “I don't wanna wait eight months; I wish the baby was here today. Then I'd know for sure you'd never take off.” Raising his eyes to hers, he set about pushing the top of her sweater and blouse aside to expose her smooth, creamy skin, placing a warm kiss to the heavenly region of her heart, his hands barely caressing the expanded sides of her tummy, his urgent paternal longing causing him to feel phantom kicking under his hands, transfixing him.
She placed her hands lightly over his, her voice lilting and sweet, “Give me permission to wear his medallion. I know I'm asking a great deal but you'll have me everyday the rest of our lives. Patrick will just have thoughts and memories of me.”
With his lips butterfly kissing her left breast, Dylan made a silent prayer for her to give him a child safely, and as quick as possible. Again, he imagined movements in her belly playing along his rough palms, before he raised his head to look down reverently at her. “Alright, wear his medallion as long as I'm the one you come home to every night. By the way what time will you be gettin' back?”
“Around three.”
“If you're gonna be late call so I won't worry.” Feeling another gentle poke from her belly, he asked her seriously, “Did your stomach just jab me?”
Blushing to the roots of her hair she denied, “It certainly didn't. I know I've puffed out a wee bit, but I'm not as bad as all that. You're imagination is working over time.” Pulling away from him she asked, “Dylan, if I'm not pregnant how will you feel?”
“Disappointed cause I want babies with you.”
“What if I can never give you children?”
“We'll have the boys and each other. Right now, what's important is that you get to feelin' completely well and whatever the doctors say I want you to tell me exactly. No more hiding things from me. I need your honesty more than I need sugar-coating.”
“Understood. Now are you up to a little foolin' around or should I be on my way.”
“Woman, I'll not make love to you out here. Now before you go I've got
to say somethin'.” Kneeling in front of her, he touched her distended stomach, feeling vibrations under his palms he authoritatively spoke, “Listen up in there. I'm your dad and it's time to settle down. Your mom has been sick all night and she's exhausted, so no more goofin' around. I need her to do her errands and get back here safely. Your responsibility is to behave accordingly. Also, no getting her to stop for junk food. I packed lunch in the car.” Dylan placed his ear against her stomach, listening to energized gurgling until the sound stopped, then he held his lips lovingly to her belly bulge for a few seconds. Rising to his feet he helped her into the driver's seat, strapping her securely in before brushing her cheek with his lips, giving her single plait a playful tug before closing the door.
Carolina removed the medallion Patrick had given her from the rear-view mirror to drape the gold chain over her head. She started the ignition and waited for Dylan to step back. With a smile, she drove off not minding that the sun wasn't shining brightly. Dylan was her personal healing light, his golden hair beaming, and his presence warming. From the moment he'd touched her distended stomach she'd begun to feel better.
Chapter 15
Sitting at a red stop light Carolina sang merrily off-key. Remembering all of the beautiful music from the previous night, she tried imitating one of Justin's high notes but even to her own ears, she sounded like a banshee and if there was a babe in her belly, he or she wasn't pleased by her wailing because her stomach started to really hurt, corset-like pressure squeezing her sides and middle. Her pelvis widened painfully, causing her to cease her howling and grit her teeth as her stomach slowly lost some of its puffiness, the pain easing off.
