A Father's Fight

by J. B. Salsbury

  Patience, Daniels. That part’s coming.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, we are gathered here today . . .”

  The ceremony goes on exactly how we rehearsed. There are tears, laughter, more tears, and the occasional baby protest. I try as hard as I can to keep my head in the game, remember all my lines when the time comes, but it’s difficult to focus on anything except Layla.

  She radiates purity and love in white, but the black lace that pushes up her breasts and those damn biker boots scream rebel. My hands itch to explore her body, to see all that fabric pooled around her ankles as I run my tongue over every inch of her naked skin.

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  “Fuckin’ finally,” I murmur and receive a tight warning glare from the pastor.

  “I cannot believe you just said the f-word in church,” Layla whispers, but the ginormous grin on her face contradicts her reprimand.

  I cup her face in my hands, lean down, and brush my lips against hers. “Open up, Mrs. Daniels. Let’s give them a show they’ll never forget.”

  ~*~

  Six hours later . . .

  Layla

  We burst through the doors of our honeymoon suite, with me cradled in Blake’s arms and our mouths fused together. I don’t know how he managed to work the key card without looking, but I’m damn grateful he did.

  Blake rips his mouth from mine. “Shit, Mouse. Are you trying to get us blacklisted from The Four Seasons?”

  I push up, pressing my breasts to his chest and pulling his lips back to mine. “I could ask you the same thing.” Our voices are breathless and weak.

  What started out as innocent kissing in the elevator quickly turned to fondling, which will ignite into a full-blown public indecency charge if we don’t get our asses behind closed doors ASAP.

  The reception was beautiful. Food was delicious. Decorations flawless. But I still found myself wanting to hit fast forward on the night and get to our suite. I longed for it to be just the two of us, alone for the first time as husband and wife.

  Blake drops my legs so my feet hit the floor but doesn’t release me from the beautiful assault of his tongue.

  I moan and pull back to meet his eyes, which are hooded and practically glowing emerald. “Are you going to rob me of my first look around this fancy hotel room?”

  He shrugs off his tux jacket without leaving my space. His eyes roam my neck, jawline, and breasts. “’Fraid so. You’ll have to take in the sights when you’re on all fours.” He steps close, wound up tight after today, and I step back out of instinct. “Study the ceiling when you’re on your back.” Having already removed his tie earlier, he moves to unbutton his black dress shirt. “Check out the view while I’m taking you on your side.”

  My stomach tumbles and melts down low. I step back again, only to have him chase me down. His hands move to the swell of my breasts, which are now heaving and practically spilling over my corset top. He traces the line of my cleavage. “Want this off, but the way I’m feeling, I don’t want to rip it.”

  A giggle burns in my chest but dies before it hits my lips. I turn around and pull my hair over one shoulder while he slowly unlaces the delicate fabric and pushes it down around my hips and then to the floor. The cool air hits my body and I shiver. He must’ve chucked his shirt, because I feel his bare skin against my back and his hands slide around my belly.

  I’ve lost most of the baby weight I’d gained during pregnancy, but my tummy isn’t as flat or tight as it used to be. Now to accompany the C-section scar I got bringing Axelle into the world, I’ve got a few extra stretch marks too, but I’d never know it from the way Blake feasts his eyes on me.

  If anything, he seems more attracted to me now that I’ve got the battle wounds of childbirth marking my body. He treats them like medals, symbols of valor that he insists on worshiping with his hands and lips whenever we make love.

  “No bra?” He cups my swollen breasts, still larger from breastfeeding.

  I tilt my head and allow him better access to my throat and jaw. “The top of my dress held everything in place, and I had to pump a couple times. No bra equals easy access.”

  The vibration of his laughter rolls across my skin in a sensual caress. “Easy access is my favorite, Mouse.”

  His mouth continues its torturous exploration while his hands drop lower and trace the line of my lace panties. I moan as his fingers slip below the delicate fabric and move straight between my legs. I bite my lip and roll against his hand, hoping he picks up on my unspoken request.

  He nuzzles my neck, nips my ear, and then freezes. “You sure we left Axelle and my parents with enough milk?”

  I blink open my eyes and feel cool air hit my upper back as he leans to meet my glare.

  “The pediatrician said he’d have a growth spurt at six months. I’d hate it if he burned through all you pumped and didn’t have—”

  “Blake”—I drop my chin to my chest—“we’ve been over this.”

  “Yeah, I know, but—”

  I turn around, losing his hand that was between my legs, not that it matters since this conversation has doused my arousal. He opens his mouth, but I put my finger to his lips.

  “No.” I shake my head. “It’s our wedding night. I’ve had to look at you all night and imagine all the dirty things you’d do to me once we were finally in our room, and I refuse to allow you to ruin it by worrying.” He kisses my finger, and I drop it from his lips with no intention of allowing him to continue before I set the ground rules. “First, no mention of any of our parents. Let’s face it. They’re the last people we should be thinking about when we’re naked. Our kids are a close second, but we can’t not talk about them, so let’s save them for post-lovemaking conversation. And third, for the hundredth time, Jack has plenty of milk, and they’re staying in the same hotel, so if worse comes to worse, Axelle can bring him to us.” I hold out my hand and make a show of dropping the mic.

  He tilts his head, one eye squinting. “You’ve been imagining all the dirty things I’d do to you?”

  “Seriously? That’s all you heard?” I huff out a breath, blowing a strand of my long hair off my face. “Yes, I have. I figured you had big wedding night sex plans. I’d hoped they’d have nothing to do with discussions about pumping milk.”

  He sifts his thick fingers through my hair and cups my head. “Oh I do, baby.” He doesn’t close his eyes as he drops small kisses all over my face. “And they start with”—more kisses—“a long bath in that Jacuzzi.”

  I suck in a breath and lean to see behind him and into the bathroom. “We have a Jacuzzi?”

  He scoops me up, and I squeak in surprise as he moves us into a bathroom that’s as large as our living room with marble everything, a his and her shower with glass walls, and—holy crap—a tub for four that buts up to a huge glass window overlooking the Las Vegas Strip.

  He places me down at the edge of the tub and moves to plug it and run the water. I can’t help but eat up the visual of his body as he leans his bare torso around to twist and turn nobs, searching for the perfect combination of hot and cold. His muscles roll beneath his smooth skin, and his side tattoos draw my eyes, reminding me of the first time we made love: the first time Blake showed me that he owned my body as much as he owned my heart, even if I wasn’t aware of it yet.

  He stands me up and drags my panties down so I can step out of them. He holds my hand, and I step into the warm water before dropping down and sinking in up to my neck.

  “You look good enough to eat in there, Mouse.” His eyes cast a glow of pure sexual heat as he watches me while unbuttoning his dress pants and then pushing them along with his boxer briefs to the floor.

  My eyes widen as he moves toward me to crawl into the tub. No matter how many times I see Blake, I’ll never get tired of his body. Strong, powerful, and capable. A tremor of need races down my spine as he stays standing, towering over me, his feet between my legs and just under my knees.

  “Fuck, I love it when
you look at me like that. I can feel your eyes on me and love watching you plan your next move.”

  He knows me so well. I blush, thankful that the warm water already has my face flushed. My hand moves to his hard-on without me telling it to, and I stroke him with wet hands. His hips jerk into my touch, and I bring my second hand up to join the first.

  Mesmerized, I watch as he tightens and swells with every long, firm glide of my hands. His legs slightly open, he rocks into my grip but sucks in a breath and pulls my hands off him.

  I gasp at the sudden move. “What’s wrong?”

  He sits down in the tub, facing me, then grabs my hips and pulls me up to straddle his lap. I cry out in pleasure as his hard length lies between my legs.

  “Not a damn thing is wrong. Just want my wedding night to last longer than five minutes. I need to set the bar high for a lifetime of good sex, baby. That’s a tall order.” His arms move around and squeeze my ass while pushing me down and up, sliding himself against me.

  I brace my hands behind my back to leverage my weight, and he continues to jack himself off against my body. His powerful arms flex as he works us both into a frenzy, and an intense longing stirs my gut.

  “Blake, I need you. Please . . .” My words dissolve on a moan as he finds the spot that makes me crazy.

  “I’m right here with you, Mouse.” His breathless growl only pushes me farther, and I feel the tingling of my building release as it powers between my legs.

  Our breathless moans and the gentle slapping of the water fill the room. I push up, plant my hands on his chest, and cover his mouth with mine. Our tongues tangle together in a flurry of lips and pulls of our teeth. I arch my back so that every push-pull of our bodies drags my nipples along his chest.

  “I’m gonna come, baby. Just like this. Not even inside you yet, and I’m done.”

  I sneak my hand around my back. On the up pass, I guide him to me and sink down.

  “Fuuuck . . .” he groans at being buried on surprise.

  Unable to stop reaching for the release that is so close it feels like a tease, I ride him hard and fast. He leans back in the bath, hands to my hips, matching each drop with a thrust of his own.

  I flatten my hands against his pecs and lock eyes with him as our bodies take over and bring us both to the brink. My stomach tightens, thighs quiver, and right then his hands move up to knead my breasts. “My wife.”

  The mixture of possession and tender awe in his voice sends me over the edge. Light explodes behind my eyes, and I grind down on his body. My forehead falls to his shoulder, and I hold onto him with my teeth as the orgasm rolls through me in wave after wave of euphoria. I’m lightheaded and panting as I resurface. “My husband.”

  The last syllable is barely out when he moves and flips me to all fours so that I’m facing out to the brilliant Vegas skyline. Before I can even enjoy the view, he grips my hips and slams into me from behind. I gasp at the delicious stretch of this position and lean back, hoping to get more of him.

  “So fucking perfect.” He moves, not slowly, but on a mission. “My woman.” He thrusts and grinds, coaxing me into another orgasm. “My Mouse.” His slick hands glide up my spine and move around to cup my breasts. “My wife.”

  His teeth clamp down on my shoulder, and he groans long and heavy into my neck. I whimper at the pleasure-pain of his bite combined with the heat of his release. We’re both breathing hard, his chest to my back, as we come back to ourselves.

  My arms shake with the effort it takes to hold myself up and above the water, but before I can squirm away, he pushes back to lie in the bath and takes me with him. He positions me between his legs, and we stare out at the city.

  “What do you think of married life so far?” I flick the glassy surface of the warm water, a huge ass smile on my face.

  “It’s exactly what I thought it’d be. Wish I could’ve convinced you to do it sooner.”

  I shrug and run my hands up and down his powerful thighs. “The best things come to those who wait.”

  “I believe that.” His voice has taken on a serious tone. He grabs my chin to tilt my face to the side forcing my eyes to his. “I’d have waited forever. Swear to God if I’d known back then that everything I had to go through would one day bring me here, to our wedding night, naked and wrapped around you like this, I’d gladly do it all again. I’d walk through hell and back if it meant the rest of my life with you.”

  A single tear races down my cheek, but before it hits the water, he hooks it with his finger and sucks it into his mouth. “Happy tears.”

  “Yeah.” My one word answer hitches on a soft whimper.

  “And from here on out that’s all I’ll ever give you, baby.” He snags another tear with a fingertip.

  “I can’t believe I finally found you.” After Stewart and Trip, I realized that I’d never felt real love for a man before. I wouldn’t have known it even existed if I hadn’t seen in in the eyes of other couples. But then I met Blake and I knew. This kind of love isn’t a fairy tale meant for dreamers or stuck in the pages of books. It’s real, all-consuming, and soul deep, and now, here, lying in the arms of my husband, I’ve never felt more convinced. “You’re my true love. My first and only true love, Blake.”

  “And you’re mine.” He brings my hand to his lips and slides soft kisses against my skin. “First . . . and last.”

  The End

  Acknowledgments

  First I want to thank God who gave me the imagination to create stories and the ability to tell them.

  Thank you to my husband and my children who inspire my characters more than I’ll ever admit to.

  I want to thank all the girls (and boy) in The Fighting Girls Fun Cage on Facebook. Not a day goes by where I don’t pop in there and leave feeling so full of love and hope. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

  Evelyn Johnson, your support and friendship have been my anchor. This adventure has been so much fun with you at my side. Here’s to more in 2015!

  Amanda “PIMA” Simpson, thank you for being my sounding board, my graphic artist, but most importantly my friend. I don’t know where I would be without you, and not a day goes by that I’m not overwhelmed with gratitude for everything you’ve taught me and continue to do for my business.

  Thank you to Theresa Wegand Proofreading & Editing for sticking with me through five books now. I’m looking forward to your perfecting many more of my books in the future. It’s so much fun working with you.

  My books would be crap if it weren’t for the expertise of The Sexy Six Critter Crew: Cristin “Spice” Harber, Claudia “Dia” Handel, Sharon “Shex” Cermak, Racquel “Rox” Reck, and Nicola “Nic” Layouni. If this writing thing ended tomorrow, we’d make one kickass crew of commando ninja PI warriors. Love you girls.

  To Elizabeth Reyes for being a guiding force, thank you. I can’t believe here I am, five books later, and none of it would’ve happened if it weren’t for your encouragement.

  Thank you to the amazing authors who inspire me every day with their writing, positive attitudes, and their appreciation for their readers.

  Thank you to everyone who has given The Fighting Series a chance. I’ll never be able to express adequately how much your faith in my writing means to me.

  About the Author

  JB Salsbury, New York Times Best Selling author of the Fighting series, lives in Phoenix, Arizona, with her husband and two kids. She spends the majority of her day as a domestic engineer. But while she works through her daily chores, a world of battling alphas, budding romance, and impossible obstacles claws away at her subconscious, begging to be released to the page.

  Her love of good storytelling led her to earn a degree in Media Communications. With her journalistic background, writing has always been at the forefront, and her love of romance prompted her to sink her free time into novel writing.

  For more information on the series or just to say hello, visit JB on her website, Facebook, or Goodreads page.

 
http://www.jbsalsbury.com/

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  http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6888697.Jamie_Salsbury