Steel Couples (Men of Steel Book 10)

by Mj Fields

  I shake my head as I try to suppress a grin. My husband, regardless of how frustrating he can be at times, is so damn sexy it should be illegal.

  This morning, when I got out of the shower and walked into the bedroom to grab clothes, there was a bag with two navy Clinton 2016 sweatshirts and my pair of navy chucks sitting on the floor next to our bed.

  I didn’t buy the shirt. He did, for me and for Mimi.

  Why? Because he is indulging me.

  He went through a phase when he was bringing home flowers for me and the girls nearly every day. Our home looked like a florist shop. When I received the credit card bill, I was shocked to see he had spent close to five thousand dollars on flowers.

  That indulgence stopped when I told him that, as much as I loved the flowers, it was excessive and we could have done so much good with that money.

  His argument was: we donated plenty already.

  I was angry. I mean, how much is plenty? To us … now, not the us when we first met, it wasn’t a ton of money, but it was still something I couldn’t get used to. I shopped at thrift stores growing up, for crying out loud.

  He understood my point and handed me the credit card. “Do with it what you want, Carly. Whatever makes you happy.”

  So, I did.

  Is it silly? Looking back now, yes, it is. But he did that for me, too.

  He cocks his head to the side. “You going in the house ‘just one more time’?”

  “No.” I shake my head as I walk toward him. “You look … amazing.”

  He smirks and nods. “You just realizing that?”

  I playfully smack his rock-hard abs before getting into the back of the car.

  He slides in beside me. “You look beautiful and, dare I say, relaxed?”

  “Relaxed?” I laugh as he puts his arm around me and pulls me tightly to him. “How can I be relaxed?”

  “Momma Joe has it all under control, baby.” Jase kisses my cheek.

  “I know she does.” I nod and sigh.

  “You’re worried Mimi and I will throw down?” he jokes, though it’s not really a joke.

  “She’s going to think the car and driver are excessive and over the top.” I yawn, and he chuckles.

  “Then you tell her that you insisted on saving the cash it would cost to park at the hotel for the night. Tell her that Giovanni is paid a salary that is far above union scale, and that you insisted. She’ll be just fine with it then.”

  I laugh. “I’ll leave out the union part.”

  “You do whatever it is you do to keep that smile on your face, and we’ll all be fine.”

  “Then you keep doing what you do.” I pause. “Well, some of what you do that makes me happy.”

  “We are happy.” He kisses the top of my head.

  I smile. “We so are.”

  “Right now, I wanna fuck you,” he says, and I shake my head, sighing. “But I’ll wait until after the election results are in. You rest now; it’s gonna be a busy day.”

  I look up at him and smile. I smile because of him.

  “I love you.”

  “I know. Now remember that when I am all up in that ass—”

  I slap my hand over his mouth, and he laughs then kisses it. Then he grabs my wrist and pulls it away to kiss me.

  I am seconds from opening my mouth for him, wanting to feel that ball roll across my tongue, when he pulls back, presses his forehead to mine, and kisses my nose.

  “I love you, Carly Steel.”

  We kiss, closed mouth, soft. It’s nice, so nice. He holds me tighter against him like always, but not like normal.

  “I like this.”

  “Yeah, me, too.”

  I smirk, expecting him to make a joke of it.

  “What?” When I don’t answer him, he continues. “I do like this. Holding you, being alone with you, knowing I have you to myself for over an hour. God willing, traffic will suck, and then we have longer before we get to JFK. I love that I’m not on pins and fucking needles, or itching to find a moment alone with my wife.”

  I nod. I get it.

  “Do you know what it’s like to walk around hard all damn day, knowing I got about a fifty percent chance of getting inside you?” He covers his heart. “Hurts, baby, hurts bad.”

  I shake my head, looking down. “You can get it whenever you want.”

  He uses two fingers to lift my chin so our eyes connect again. “You get tired. With work, the girls, being mother of the year, and staying that damn sexy all the time.” He smiles widely, “Goddamn, must be tiring looking so hot.”

  “You tell me. You are so hot.”

  “We. We are so hot,” he says, kissing my nose.

  “Still?”

  “Always.”

  I lean up to kiss his lips, but he pulls away.

  “Not yet. I want this.”

  I glance down at his lap and see he is fully erect.

  “I can’t control that. He’s …” He looks down and laughs. “He’s in love with your vagina.”

  I laugh out loud, then cover my mouth.

  “He is. He’s all get up in there. Get. Up. In. There! And this …” He holds my hand over his heart. “For some reason, this has more sense than my dick. You did that. You, Carly Smythe, did that. Made my heart louder than my dick. You are more important than coming.”

  “Aw … that’s kind of sweet in a really weird way.”

  “Yeah, really weird,” he says, kissing my hand. His eyes twinkle, and he tries to hold back a grin. “Now my dick wants to tell you to sleep because, when Trump wins, it’s gonna fuck you senseless … all … night … long.”

  “Oh, nice, Jase, real nice.”

  “Not my fault, baby. It’s my dick’s.”

  Liberal Shit

  Carly

  * * *

  “There she is.” I smile up at Jase when I see Mimi coming toward us. “You see her?”

  He grins, nods, and then laughs. “Baby, how could I miss her?”

  I smack him in the gut. “Shush, Jase.”

  “She can’t hear me,” he says, still smirking.

  He was right. Mimi is decked out in campaign gear from the flat-rimmed baseball cap, to the personalized Clinton chucks on her feet.

  I have to bite my lip to stop from laughing myself.

  “She’s adorable,” I tell Jase because … she is.

  He tips his head once in a sort of I-don’t-really-agree nod.

  I squeeze his hand. “Behave.”

  “I’m sure someone would agree with you,” he whispers as she comes closer.

  As soon as she is close, she dives at me with a hug me and what happens? Jase.

  “Didn’t know you were bringing security,” Mimi says after stepping away from the most accidental and awkward hug in the history of accidental, awkward hugs.

  “Just trying to get to you first,” Jase says, trying to act like the fact me nearly dove in front of me when Mimi launched herself at me was purposeful.

  “I can hug her,” Mimi says as she looks up at him and pushes her glasses up.

  “Of course you can.” Jase forces a tight smile and steps away.

  She rolls her eyes then forces her own smile. When she hugs me, she hugs me tightly.

  “I am so excited to be here with you on this historical day,” she whispers as she squeezes me.

  “I’m excited, too,” I tell her, and I am.

  “Is he going to be with us all day?” The way she says he is with more than just a hint of irritation.

  “Mimi,” I warn.

  “Carly,” she says back, stepping away from the embrace, hands still on my shoulders, looking me in the eye. “This is a huge deal.”

  I hear Jase sigh and look at him. He flashes me an over-the-top smile, and I feel like a girl caught between her BFF and her boyfriend, except she was my mother’s BFF and he is my husband.

  I am so glad I never “middle schooled,” but apparently, I’m being thrown right into it now.

  “I know, and I
am here, and Jase is here, and—”

  “I’m sorry I jumped in the middle of that… hug, Mimi. Just a natural reaction any man would have when his pregnant wife—”

  “You’re pregnant? Again!” Mimi asks, totally shocked, possibly even disgusted.

  I nod. “Yes, we’re expecting our third child.”

  “Was it planned?”

  “Well, no, but—”

  “Women have choices, Carly,” she whispers.

  “Well, sometimes things are just meant to be,” I tell her as Jase inches closer to me. “We’re very happy.”

  She has it in her head that we aren’t.

  “You could … wrap it, you know?”

  “Condoms don’t fit. Too small,” Jase says in the most serious tone, totally deadpan.

  You have got to be kidding me, I think as I look up at Mimi, ready to explain he is joking, but her jaw snaps shut, and then, before I can say a word, she starts.

  “You can use birth control.”

  “We’re Catholic; it’s against our—”

  I smack Jase in the stomach, and he laughs out loud.

  “He’s joking, Mimi.”

  She looks down at his crotch and shrugs. “I assumed. A man with an ego like that must be lacking.”

  I die.

  With both hands, I cover my face. “Stop. Both of you, just stop.”

  “You’re right, Mimi. I have a tiny penis, and because of it, I overcompensate.” Jase nods.

  “Hmm,” Mimi huffs, turning to walk toward the exit.

  “With my tongue,” he adds.

  “Jase,” I gasp out, looking to see Mimi’s expression and knowing I’m in for it.

  Thankfully, she didn’t hear a thing.

  Jase laughs and takes my hand. “Let’s go check in to the hotel, and get you and Mimi off to Clinton-land.”

  Once Mimi and I have gotten ourselves freshened up, we walk out of our hotel suite. Jase stands in the doorway of our suite, hands gripping the doorjamb, as if he’s stopping himself from following us, because that’s exactly what he is doing.

  “Call me, text me, stay with her. You’re in the city, and everyone is a little OTT about this fucking election, baby—”

  “As they should be.” Mimi scowls. “It’s an historical—”

  “Look, Mimi, I’m not here to argue with you. I’m here because she’s here. My wife, my pregnant wife, the mother of my children, is going to some stupid—”

  “Jase,” I interrupt.

  “I give no fucks, Carly. I want you safe, and I wanna know where you are. And if that bothers you”—he literally points at Mimi and I about die … again—“get over it. You should be happy as hell that she has a man who loves her.”

  “I know, you’re a prize.” She rolls her eyes.

  “No, she’s the prize. You make damn sure she is safe and comes back to rest if she’s tired.”

  Mimi looks shocked. I’m not. Not one bit. Annoyed, yes. Shocked, no. It’s actually very, very hot.

  His eyes narrow as he looks at me. “You’ve been exhausted. You get tired, you need to rest. This bullshit means a fuck of a lot less than you or our child.”

  “Jase …”

  “Carly …” His eyes narrow more.

  “Tell me to have fun.” I smile at him.

  He nods. “Have fun.”

  “I love you.” I tell him as I push myself up onto my toes and kiss his cheek.

  “Love you,” he says back.

  When we walk out, Giovanni is there, opening the door.

  “We know how to open a door,” Mimi tells him.

  He nods. “A gentleman opens the door for a lady, and … I get paid to do so.”

  She huffs.

  I huff, too, and then wink at him.

  He smirks, knowing what I am doing, and shuts the door behind me.

  “Men,” she grumbles.

  I laugh. Then I look at Mimi to find she is looking at me like she doesn’t know me. Honestly, she really doesn’t know the me I have become.

  I smile at her. “Don’t do that.”

  “Do what?” she asks, semi-pouting.

  Mom. Mom was Mimi’s “person,” and Mimi was mom’s when she needed her to be.

  “I am the same girl. I am a strong woman, Mimi. I believe in equal rights. I believe that no man should tell a woman what to do. I believe in that.”

  “But he’s so—”

  “Perfect for me,” I tell her. “He’s perfect. He doesn’t try to change me. He isn’t all that controlling.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks sternly.

  It takes me a moment to put together my thoughts.

  Finally, I smile. “Some things don’t need to be shared. Some things are between him and I.”

  “But those things aren’t condoms,” she says, pointing to my belly.

  I smile wider. “Mimi, Jase lost his first love during childbirth. He about lost his mind when I found out I was pregnant with Katherine.”

  “Katherine,” she whispers her name like it’s too hard to say it any louder.

  “Yeah, she’s … amazing. Not planned, but amazing. And her father … God, Mimi, I wish I could find someone like him for you.”

  “We’d kill each other,” she groans.

  “You’d want to at times.” I laugh. “But then, you’d make up.”

  “I wouldn’t want a man I wanted to kill,” she argues.

  “Well, of course not.” I take her hand. “But to have a man who always has your best interest at heart; wants to keep you safe; enjoys his time with you and wants more time with you; looks at you like you are the sexiest thing on the planet when you wake up, turning green because you are going to get sick, and holds your hair back while you get sick; who doesn’t fuss when you steal all the covers; laughs at your idiocies and actually finds them enduring. Yeah, Mimi, you’d want a man like that. And, and he’s an amazing father.”

  She nods.

  “And he’s an amazing lover.” I feel my face flush with embarrassment.

  She chuckles.

  I grin. “Now, let’s have fun. Let’s enjoy this night.”

  “Let’s pretend your mother, my best friend, is here,” she adds.

  “She is, Mimi, she is.”

  She smiles a genuine smile, one like she used to. “Let’s have some fun!”

  “Yes, let’s!”

  Fun … fun?

  Okay, it started out fun. Celebrities speaking on our future president’s behalf, the entertainment, all while being surrounded by thousands of people here waiting, just waiting, for the moment the United States of America gets to see a change.

  We were all waiting and waiting for the moment Hillary would come and speak to us, her people, her public.

  I sent Jase texts every hour, even when I was anxious and knew he was all but praying he would win this damn bet, but he wouldn’t. I would. Women would. Hilary would.

  There is no way America would put a man in office who had started his first company in the family garage. I mean, they might follow that BS story with the fact that he started it with a “loan” of a million dollars from his father. He is not the American people. He’s a real-life Chester Cheetos. Okay, that was not my own dig. It was from a really cool girl that Mimi and I met. We call her Jersey Jules. She said it, and I about died laughing. We formed a fast friendship.

  The Donald would not win. He was a damn reality TV star, who was such a ginormous … and orange * snort * manwhore, who became famous for using the line, “You’re Fired.” Please. America is smarter than that.

  By eleven, I was exhausted, and she, Hillary, was going to be our future president, in spite of what the polls were showing. I knew she would win. Regardless, she had yet to show up.

  By midnight, Mimi was loaded and passed out.

  I messaged Jase on the hour and, well, this time, I had to ask my husband to come help me get a wasted Mimi out of there.

  And he did.

  NYC

  Jase


  * * *

  “Circle the block. Give it ten minutes. I don’t want her knowing I’ve been out here all damn night,” I tell Giovanni as we circle the Jacob K. Javits Convention Center for the millionth time.

  He laughs.

  “Sorry, man, but—”

  “No need to apologize, Mr—”

  “Jase. Seriously, we just spent eight hours in a fucking car together; will you stop with the mister shit,” I tell him.

  “Yeah.”

  “Mr. Steel,” I huff. “My father wasn’t even Mr. Steel.”

  “Understood.”

  “Women are fucking crazy,” I say, looking out the passenger side window.

  “Understand that, too.” He laughs.

  “They make us crazy. Don’t ever get married, man.” I sigh. “Well, unless—”

  “Been there, done that, have absolutely no plan to do it again.” He chuckles.

  “You’re married? She must be pissed that I have you out all fucking day and night.”

  He nods. “She’s none the wiser.”

  He offers no more information.

  “Didn’t know. Double-O Cyrus does all the hiring for drivers, security … well, anyone who spends a lot of time with our family. My bad.”

  He nods. “He’s a good man.”

  “Most of the time, yeah.” I laugh, and he does, too.

  I don’t press for information, but he has piqued my curiosity. I will certainly be finding out more about him.

  I walk up to the door of the convention center and … of course I’m not let in. No passing off a Benjamin is going to work, either. Tried that shit earlier, and it got me a suspicious stare.

  “My wife and her friend are inside,” I tell the man who is trying his best to look intimidating. Not working.

  I shoot Carly a text, telling her I’m here and can’t get in. I tell her to give me her location so I can get the motherfuckers to help her with Mimi.

  Ten more minutes later, I see Carly through the glass wall with one of Mimi’s arms slung around her shoulders and the other around a camp Clinton security goon.

  When they walk out, I look at my wife. She looks shot.