by Gina Whitney
He opened his eyes, annoyed by my interruption. And then they followed mine to the two men and one woman standing not far from where we were. He nodded and said, “It’s their kink.”
“Meaning what exactly?” I asked even more interested now.
“Meaning, they like to fuck together. As in M-M-F…” he said, returning to my neck. And the acronym played in my mind. MMF…MMF…MMF.
Mother of all things holy. When did this start? I had so many questions. Did they fuck each other? Bisexual? Who was on top—or the bottom for that matter? Ugh, my body exploded with goose bumps pondering the possibilities. However, now wasn’t the time to interrogate the broody alpha. I’d have to back-burner that and ask Chance. He knew everything, and I was going to kill him for not dishing sooner. Some gossip girl he turned out to be.
“Why…does that turn you on, Beauty?” His breath hit my ear and warmed my core.
“Nope.” I lied. “You’re the only man that turns me on, and I’m utterly satisfied.” I removed myself from his lap, and whispered into his ear. “I’m going to make love to my fiancé.” I walked away and said goodnight to everyone. I never turned back.
The last few months we’ve been working on our newest album, Under the Blood Moon. After Jake’s introspective explanation, as a group, we agreed it was fucking cool. It would be the End of Days tour.
The blood moon, in some circles, was symbolic of the “end of days.” He showed the notable quote.
“The sun shall be turned into darkness, and the moon into blood, before the great and terrible day of the Lord.” –Joel 2:31
This album was a testimony of how close we’d become as a group. We’d managed to have a great time writing and recording as a team. When we were in the studio, it had a different vibe than the last album. There wasn’t any fighting or misplaced egos. We were stripped-down-bare musicians who loved to play and make music. These songs were darker metal. The management’s concern was, “Would the fans follow? Would we be able to integrate it successfully into Lethal Abel’s persona?” Some still thought of us as pretty boys, and that’s what they capitalized on. This album was dropping Christmastime and the execs were twitching that the bible-thumpers would cause problems. My reaction was simple. If people had a problem with what we were doing, because it would cause debate or public outcry, I welcomed a healthy discussion in the current stagnant scene of rock.
Basically, go fuck yourself. My band. My music. Be respectful of other people’s point of view or don’t listen.
“Fuck me, lads. Any beak? I’m about to gnaw my own fucking leg off here,” Woody yelled at the producers behind the glass. I laughed as I watch them all look to one another for explanation. We’ve been working our asses of with no food. “Jesus fuck already. Food, man. Got any?” He threw his stick at the glass window.
Dave was still our band’s manager alongside my father—who still denied to this day we were getting fingered by him. While we couldn’t hear what Dave was telling them, we laughed good and hard as they scattered about.
Jake and Ender hung their guitars on the stand and walked over. Woody sat behind his kit and glared at the window. He was not patient, and when he was hungry…brutal.
“Yo, you’ve never sounded better.” Ender clapped my back with his hand.
“Yeah, you too. You’re nice and tight,” I answered. It was true. Ender could be a total dick at times, but no one could deny that his fingers were masters of the strings.
“You too, Jake. Got the fingers of Getty Lee, dude,” I said, for bassists Getty Lee set the bar.
He laughed. “Yeah, don’t I wish? I appreciate that, man. I have a really good feeling about this music we’re creating. We are in the zone. A testament to where we are in our lives. Found our sweet pocket.” He and Ender shared a private laugh. We were all tight as brothers. However, those two hung out a lot more and Woody was either with me or did his own thing.
“Yeah, I was meaning to ask. What’s up with Jessie? My sous?”
This time, Ender answered, Jake taking the backseat. “Well, we’ve been meaning to ask you. What the fuck do you need with a sous chef?” He laughed it off, but I could tell he was only deflecting my question.
“I wanted Michael and she came with him…packaged deal,” I said flatly. It was true. I didn’t think we needed her, but the fucker wouldn’t let me hire him alone. I thought maybe they were a thing. “Why, what’s up?”
Woody caught wind of the conversation and his curiosity got the better of him. “Yeah, I’d fuck the box off her.”
Jake, stopped drinking his Coke mid-sip. “She’s ours. Stop being an Irish asshole and have some respect.”
Woody gaped at me before turning back to them. “Ha! Don’t tell me he’s fuming about me potentially riding his mot?”
Jake and Ender both moved forward in one fluid motion. “There’s no fucking potential there. So sniff around somewhere else.”
I stepped in the middle of our tightened circle. “This isn’t fucking high school. If you’re both doin’ her and happy…then have at it. She’s signed a letter of confidentiality. So, if this shit blows up, I’m good. I don’t want your kink fucking with my life.”
“You and your paperwork. Aren’t you full of yourself?” Ender glared, rolling his eyes. While it was true and the boys often fucked with me, my mind was at ease knowing she couldn’t speak about me and Beauty to anyone. If they wanted to chance that shit, it was on them. But fuck that.
“You have a lot more to lose than she does. Remember I said that and hopefully it doesn’t come back to bite you in the ass,” I answered. Not that I wanted to put her down—she was fucking great at her job—but I knew how bad pussy could bite you on the dick in a flat second.
Woody put two fingers in his mouth and let out a high-pitched whistle. “For fucks sake, shut up already. I’m horned up just thinkin’ of it.” You could see the smoke rising, exhausting all brain function. His lips thinned and he asked the question I knew was coming. “Wait, this isn’t a knobjockey thing is it?”
Ender’s face drained of all color and I wanted to laugh my ass off. “I hope you’re kidding right now, esse. I’m getting real fucking tired of you questioning my manhood.” He grabbed his cock. “Maybe you’re jealous, man?”
“Bloody hell. I’m not jealous. Just fekkin’ curious. Don’t want yer rubbin’ ya pipe on me and shite. This lad likes to be prepared for such things,” Woody said as he made his way to the cooler. “On everything holy…I swear to Christ. I told them I wanted Guinness?” he yelled across the studio and left, slamming the door.
Jake and I were the only ones smiling. Ender stood stock-still, hands fisted. One thing Ender held near and dear…his cock and the ability to fuck. Woody knew damn well Ender wasn’t gay, and I had it on good authority Jake and he had shared girls. So this was just Woody poking the bear.
So I stepped up and took Jake’s diplomatic approach. “Listen, Woody’s just fucking with you and I’m just concerned. It comes from a good place. I’m all for fucking and you both know that. It’s no fucking secret what and who I am or what fuckery I’m into.” I addressed them both. “However, as you both have said in the past…it’s also about the band. Just be chill and take care of your shit—as we’ve all experienced what happens when you don’t.” They agreed wholly. A lapse in my judgment put Chance on the highway to hell, put my family in danger, and threatened Beauty’s life. We’ve been through hell and back, but one thing remains: we got each other’s backs.
Woody returned with a case of Guinness and Corona—his attempt at peace, and hopefully, Ender wouldn’t take the Corona as a cultural knock. He did not, but helped hand out the beer. I chose a Coke instead.
“Tis calls for a proper toast,” Woody said, and we held our bottles in the air. “Here’s to cheatin’, stealin’, fightin’, and drinkin’. If you cheat, may you cheat death. If you steal, may you steal a woman’s heart. If you fight, may you fight for a brother. And if you drink, may you drink with me.�
� His smile was genuine and heartfelt, and we all echoed, “Aye,” and clinked our bottles. If there was anything about Woody, he took his toasts to heart. It was just his way. He wasn’t a man of many words, but a man of toasts and truisms.
We wrapped up the day after a late lunch, and we were the last ones out of the studio. I checked my watch and it was already after five o’clock. I grabbed my cell off the table and checked for any messages from Beauty. Nothing. She spent the day with Chance looking for a wedding dress for after the baby arrived. My concern was that she was taking it easy and not overdoing it. The mention of wedding both thrilled and scared me. If I had it my way…we’d be married. I was impatient went it came to her becoming my wife. However, I understood Beauty’s position. She wanted to enjoy our wedding. And I wanted her to be happy. So, we were set to be married early fall, and the baby could come anytime now. Our pasts have been rocky, and the thought of something interfering was prevalent. That scared the fuck out of me.
This promise I could keep. My bride dreamed of a fantasy wedding…I’d give her the dreams she’d always been denied as a child. A second chance, and hopefully, break through some of those barriers she still held in place. It was my job to restore her beliefs in dreams and romance. I am the man who’d cherish and promise her romance every day of her life.
And that was my dream.
The drive back to the house was quiet, despite the traffic on the freeway. I used this time to mentally catalog everything I needed to remember. We agreed to host July Fourth at the house. Which reminded me…I needed to call my father. He and my mother would be coming, and I didn’t think it wise to have them stay with us.
Thankfully, he agreed. I haven’t forgiven her, and I’m not sure I would. I promised Gia I’d try, and my compromise was letting her help decorate. And if I’m being honest…it wasn’t out of forgiveness but more for selfish reasons. I didn’t have the time to hire someone I could trust. And that in itself was a laugh, because I really didn’t trust her. However, she was the better alternative and I knew it would make Gia happy.
I’d do anything to make Beauty happy. I knew better than anyone what she felt…contradictory, strung tight, coiled with tension. She was an emotional time-bomb. I prayed like fuck every day that her pregnancy hormones would balance out. But I still worried she might detonate. This party couldn’t come at a better time. It would provide a social outlet, and Cindy being there was the bow that tied it up nicely. Cindy’s colorful personality and friendship was the perfect antidote.
I walked into the house and heard the familiar sounds of Lethal Abel playing through the speakers. Beauty sang at the top of her lungs and Chance sang backup. The smell of garlic, wine, and pasta filled the bottom floor. They must be in the kitchen, I thought. I walked through the entrance, dropping my keys and phone on the side table. Then continued through the hallway that lead to the kitchen. While the fragrant smells of cooking drove my stomach wild, the smell of her perfume hit me square in the balls and I wished nothing more than to have her right there in the middle of the kitchen.
Pull it the fuck together.
I stopped just short of the doorway, adjusting my painful erection. A few different scenarios played through my mind. None of which I chose. Her lilt voice a beacon. My cock a missile aiming directly for her. Fuck it. Let the chips fall. It’s my fucking house.
She sat on the center island in a white sundress, her belly round, and her feet hung, dangling below. Chance sipped wine on a high-back chair across from her at the bar while Michael and Jessie continued preparing dinner. I was a few strides into the kitchen when she finally noticed me. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open—her face now beautifully pink. I closed the gap between us and took no time seizing her lips. She responded immediately, leaning into me with a breathless sigh. The world fell away, leaving just the two of us…and my music in the background.
The sensations were almost indescribable and impossible to resist. Our scars, pasts, and sorrows ignited me. I literally picked her up off the island and held her steady against my mouth until I felt her limbs melt midair. Did I stop? Fuck no. Suspended midair, my tongue penetrated and devoured her mouth. Her small hand reached up and around my neck and filled me with the need to consume her mouth, her entire body—penetrating her, turning her inside and out. The hunger fed my cock until it thickened. I needed her naked—now. Skin to skin. And our limbs entwined until we were both panting for air.
Until the noise and hustle of the outside world drew me back.
“Well, fuck me sideways if that wasn’t a proper hello,” Chance said, taking a long sip of his wine. The other two remained silent and continued cooking. “I need a cold shower after my already cold shower. Jesus fuck.” He grabbed the chilled bottle of wine out of the decanter and left the kitchen in a huff.
“I’ve missed you, Beauty.” I kissed her cheek softly before putting her down, my hand gently caressing the swell of her stomach. It used to freak me out feeling a foot, elbow, or arm. However, now it was one of the highlights of my day.
Anyone could plainly see the pregnancy was taking a toll on her. Her feet and hands were severely swollen. I loved her fuller face and lips. Her lush body was a bonus. I never took the time to ogle a pregnant chick. Why would I? But now that my girl was pregnant…there was nothing more sexy-beautiful.
She ran her fingers through my hair and pulled me in for another heart-breaking kiss. This time, I was breathless. “I missed you more. And guess what?” she asked, leading me outside to the pool deck where a beautiful table for two sat waiting.
“What?” I pulled her chair out.
She sat and her white sundress draped snugly across her baby-bump. “We’re going to have a beautiful life, Abel.”
“Yes.” It was the only word I could utter because her smile nearly undid me. See, this was the shit I was talking about. All those feelings that I welcomed and overwhelmed me all at once.
The sky darkened and moon edged out the sun. I loved dusk. My favorite part of the day. Maybe because it’s the sexiest part of any day. The combination of the view of LA and the warmth of fragrant blooms had a mesmerizing and relaxing effect.
Michael and Jessie plated a delicious Tagliatelle Bolognese—my favorite—and I loved that she took the liberty of telling them. I was hoping she’d take more of a role around the house. See it as hers…ours, and not solely mine. I dug in with gusto and listened as she tantalized me with all her stories of the day. I could listen to her go on for hours, and never have the heart to stop her. However, my only request would be that she sat on my lap and faced me while doing so. And perfect timing. They were bringing dessert out.
“Tiramisu?” I confirmed and beckoned her into my lap with the crook of my finger. I pushed back from the table, making room for her lovely bump. As she gathered the material in her hands, I helped her on to my lap.
“Will you always be such a caveman or will I be able to eat in my own seat at some point?” she asked with her sassy eye-roll.
I bit back a laugh and decided to tease her further. “But then I wouldn’t be able to do this…” I leaned in close, fingering a few strands of hair behind her ear and sang. “Because maybe…you’re gonna be the one that saves me. And after all…you’re my wonder wall.”
She gasped and sobbed with tears streaming down her face. “Don’t you know you’re the one who’s saved me?” She sniffed and buried her face in my chest.
Hard tears soaked through my shirt. I vowed right then and there that her tears would never be from unrequited love or loneliness, but only ones of joy and passion.
I hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “No, Beauty, we’re saving each other.” So I gathered her up in my arms and made my way into the house.
“But, dessert…”
“That can wait. This cannot.” It was true. Tonight I’d make love to her slowly, leaving the kink off to the side. She needed the gentle hand of her man…not the firm hand of a Dom. And I took pride that I could freely give
both.
I held her tightly and took the stairs two at a time, down the long, winding hallway until I breached our room, and then gently laid her in the middle of the bed. Her body sunk into the thick comforter. I began to slowly undress her, kissing and caressing her bare skin as I went. Her body responded instinctively, and she arched into my touch. Her little moans of pleasure continued to escape her lips, and I continued my assault until she started to return caresses. Her silent demands grew, and I answered with my tongue…tasting and nipping along her thighs. My eyes roved over her face, then dipped to the fullness of breasts, and finally down her swollen belly. Overhead, the ceiling fan circled lazily and the moon lit the room in a bluish hue.
“Do you know how beautiful you are, my beauty?”
Her clean scent swirled around me. I was already lost before I began. My mouth hovered above her bare lips—below. She drew in an audible, quivering breath. I growled, knowing I did that. Had that effect on her. However, I promised myself I’d take her slowly, and love her deeply. It was always the same. It seemed like years had past since I’d taken her last, and it was only this morning. But I was on fire wanting her. My fiancée, the mother of my unborn child, and all mine.
I kneeled between her thighs and drank in her naked body. My cock enjoyed the view as well. Her eyes half-lidded and heavy, and a face open and vulnerable. I shifted, parting her quivering thighs, and her eyes focused on my new Prince Albert ring. It was a little thicker and heavier than my last one. I grabbed the head of my cock, taunting her briefly before sinking into her pussy. My muscles locked-up and my breathing seized. Fuck, I hadn’t counted on how much I missed her or how much my cock craved her.
She drove her fingers though my hair and purred the word, “Baby?”
