by Becca Lee
I spotted his brisk nod and then headed inside. I needed to be tucked in bed with Jo, away from thoughts of David and the nightmares of our past.
My favourite way to wake up was with Jo’s mouth wrapped around my cock. My second was to wake while she was fast asleep, so I could rouse her with my mouth. And that was exactly what I did.
Everything about Jo’s body was changing. Obviously, her breasts were bloody fantastic. They were always amazing and I loved paying them lots of attention, but as swollen as they were, was something I could definitely get used to. It was more than that, though. There were the subtle differences, her scent and taste for one.
My mouth between her thighs, I inhaled deeply before I went to town. She was always sweet, but with her pregnancy, her sweetness was that much tastier; plus, she seemed to open up even easier before me with the shift in her hormones. Legs wide, I released a satisfied groan as she began to ride my face. She was in that awesome middle ground of sleep and awake. I knew from experience when she was going down on me as I slept, that it was the time when I thought I may be dreaming. I was always so goddamn relieved when I woke up and realised I wasn’t.
Her hands clamped down on my head.
She was definitely awake. She ground herself harder against me, never one to shy away from showing and telling me what she wanted, and Christ, I was the harder for it. I knew she was ready for my fingers, and most definitely for my cock, once she chanted my name.
My fingers took over where my mouth had been, allowing me to concentrate on her swollen nub. Bringing her to the precipice, I was a mean bastard, knowing all it would take was a hard suck and tug, with a couple of deep thrusts and she would spiral over the edge. Instead, I pulled away from her.
“Morning, beautiful.” I kissed her inner thigh. “Do you want me to make breakfast?” I grinned, waiting for her response.
Leaning on her elbows, she shot me daggers, but her sexy mouth couldn’t conceal the smile which danced there. “I don’t bloody well think so.” She wriggled around and lifted her hips slightly. “You need to finish off what you damn well started.”
Pulling up on my knees, I grinned down at her, amused by her response. She was so goddamn hot when she got all demanding on me. I leaned down and kissed her, careful not to put weight on her stomach. Her tongue entered my mouth, and I knew she was chasing her own sweetness. “Damn, woman.” I pulled back from her and lifted her legs in the air, resting her ankles on my shoulders. One of the many bonuses of her pregnancy was we’d really mixed it up recently in the bedroom. And I loved every single moment of it.
Positioning myself at her entrance, I nudged her, immediately revelling in the way she coated me. Once more, she lifted her hips, forever impatient, which also pushed me in deeper, much to both of our satisfaction. Placing my hands on her hips, I needed to take control, or else she’d be making me come undone before I knew it. I was already horny enough and near exploding. I wanted to last longer than two damn minutes. “Hold still, woman.”
She grinned in response. Entering her slowly, I stilled, tearing her grin from her face and leaving her with parted lips. I pulled out before slamming in deeply. Long gone were my reservations of hitting our baby on its head, or some weird shit like that. I knew I was big and was downright convinced I could do our kid some serious harm—if not physically, then psychologically. Our baby being nudged by my dick while in Jo’s womb freaked me the crap out. It wasn’t until I’d voiced my concerns a few weeks earlier, when about thirty minutes later, once she’d calmed down enough from laughing and peeing her goddamn pants, again, that she put my mind at ease.
She’d then proceeded to tell virtually everyone in our close circle, her parents included, since then about my concern of poking our baby.
Fears long forgotten, I rode her hard, enjoying every whimper and groan that escaped her. Feeling my balls tingle, I knew I was almost spent, and while I’d pulled back earlier and not allowed Jo to find her release from my mouth and fingers, there was no chance I was coming without her. “That’s it, baby.” Reaching for her clit, I pressed hard and circled. Always receptive to my touch, Jo clenched around me and called out her release. The spasms transferred to me, and after a few more thrusts, my own orgasm ripped through me.
It was definitely a bloody amazing way to start the day, much better than having to wake early to drag myself to an early-morning meeting. This was a much better version of how my day should start.
Pulling out of her, I reached for the tissues and passed her a couple. Cleaning up, I headed to the en-suite and threw them into the toilet before heading back to bed.
“Morning, beautiful,” I greeted again. As she tilted her head back, my lips found hers.
Pulling away, she smiled and followed it with a yawn. “Morning. Did you sleep well?” Jo turned in my arms.
I nodded around my own yawn.
“Yeah,” she scoffed. “Looks like it.” Her hand found the space between my brow and she rubbed the creases I knew formed between them. “Did you have a good talk with Mace when I left?”
“I did.” I smiled. “And thank you.” She lifted a brow in question as I continued, “I heard what you said to him, and thank you. He needed it.”
“And you? I did it for you, too.”
A burst of love erupted from my chest at the amazing woman in my arms. She was perfect. I had removed my rose-tinted glasses the first time she’d threatened to bust my balls, and despite her being as clumsy as a clown with odd feet, and her loud-arse snores, she was my kind of perfect.
“Thank you, baby. I know.”
“This thing with David.” She gulped when she said his name, but kept her face stoic as she continued. “Obviously, it’s brought a whole heap of crap up, but it’s also finally made me put to rest some stupid stuff I was keeping a hold of. And just so you know, I’ve made a decision.”
Returning the smile that appeared on her face, I kissed the tip of her nose. “What’s that, baby? This looks serious.”
She prodded me in the ribs. “Well, I’ve realised that when the odds are stacked against you, you don’t run and hide. You step up and give life the middle finger.”
I burst out laughing. “God, I love you, woman.”
“I know. I’m pretty amazing.” She grinned.
“Yes, you are.” I smiled and leaned toward her, my mouth finding hers. Pulling her tightly toward me, she pushed against me so I landed on my back. A moment later, she straddled me, apparently ready for round two. Her fantastic breasts, which had grown bigger in the last few weeks, were on perfect display before me. Leaning up on my elbows, I beckoned her to kiss me. That was all the prompting she needed.
Her lips pressed against mine, her tongue seeking out my own, while every now and then caressing it. Our kiss deepened as I lifted her slightly, ready to enter her.
“Yo, brother.” Three heavy raps thudded against our door.
Hands still on Jo’s hips, I groaned. A light laugh escaped her lips. “What?”
“Coffee’s on, and I need to leave in a few.”
“Okay. Coming.”
“Pfft, apparently not,” Jo said around her laughter as she moved off me. “Would have been a great way to start the morning.”
I couldn’t have agreed more. No day started better than with screwing my wife. “It’s not like you didn’t come. You getting greedy?” I teased. I leaned over and kissed her lightly.
“Two would have been nicer.”
I laughed. “Tonight, babe.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
Taking one last glance at her naked body, I groaned in frustration and dragged my arse out of bed. As soon as I was dressed and ready for the day, I headed out to the kitchen. Mace grinned and poured me a coffee when I entered.
“Good sleep?” He handed me my coffee.
“Could have been better.”
“You look a bit strained there, Liam. Catch you at a bad time?”
I considered wiping that stupid-arse grin of
f his face. It had been a while since I’d put him in a headlock, but I was sure I could if I was pissed enough. “Yeah, thanks, Mace. Great timing, arsehole.”
A loud laugh burst out of him. “Yeah, sorry about that.” His face turned serious, the brief early-morning banter quickly over. “He’s turned up. You going to come with me now?”
I placed my mug on the benchtop. This was really going to happen. I had no idea what the hell David’s issue was, or what he had planned, but I was going to find out. “Sure thing. I just need to have a word with Jo.”
Mace picked up his helmet and headed outside. I grabbed my own and let Jo know I was heading out with Mace. I held back from saying where. It was Saturday, so Jo was happy to chill out and would no doubt be meeting up with Ella at some point.
Mounting my bike, I started it and revved the engine. Nodding at Mace, he pulled out and I followed closely behind, ready to face this shit head-on.
Cutting our engines outside of Alain’s dilapidated house, I steadied my breathing, willing myself to calm down and not pound the shit out of David when I saw him. I’d been calling my dad ‘David’ since I was twelve. The moment, still so vivid, was a defining one in my childhood. Fast asleep in bed one night, just a few weeks after my twelfth birthday, he charged into my room high as a kite and kicked the shit out of me while I slept. The first punch woke me up; the fifteenth knocked me out. He’d left me with two black eyes, a handful of broken ribs and a thirst to never see the scumbag again. I knew then that he was not worthy of the term dad. Dads were meant to support and protect, to love. None of these were given by David. All he gave me, on top of the regular beatings, was fear with a tide of hatred.
For two more years, I had to live under his junkie rule. Mace protected me when he could, often by taking the beating himself, but he couldn’t always be there. He was working hard to get out of our home, and was going through the training needed to ensure he’d be accepted into the police force. As soon as he’d earned enough money to get a place of his own, he took me with him.
It wasn’t lost on me, the sacrifices Mace had made for me over the years. There weren’t many eighteen-year-olds who took on the parenting of a fourteen-year-old. Mace had done so the best he knew how and I hadn’t turned out so bad. Once more, shoulder-to-shoulder, we were about to face David. I couldn’t help but marvel at the differences between then and now. No longer was I the scared little boy he once knew.
I was still scared shitless, but not of David. It had more to do with if I killed the bastard, I would end up missing the birth of my baby, miss growing old with Jo. That was not something even conceivable. I would not give him the satisfaction of destroying what I had worked so damn hard for. Never again.
“You good, Liam?” Mace checked.
“I will be when we get this over with.”
Mace nodded in understanding before he raised his hand and rapped on the door.
Bottles being knocked to the ground alerted us to someone heading toward the door. Alain, wearing a dirtied-up tee and shorts, greeted us with a cigarette hanging from his lips. “Boys,” he said. “You here to see your dad?”
Mace nodded.
“Come on through. He’s out the back. Not sure what sense you’ll get out of him, though.”
We followed Alain through the mountain of empty beer bottles and over-filled ashtrays. The air was pungent and left a bad taste in my mouth. Once outside, I felt able to inhale, appreciate the fresh air. Glancing around the unkempt yard, my gaze landed on David, who sprawled out on a lounger. His eyes barely open, he sported a black eye of his own. A sadistic satisfaction crawled through me, knowing he’d been hurt. The man deserved so much more.
He attempted to sit up straighter and prise open his eyes when he saw us. I knew the two Mason boys together was an intimidating sight: tall, broad and, between the two of us, sporting a multitude of fierce artwork. We manoeuvred two seats and positioned them in front of him. I was tired already, yet the day had barely begun.
“The hell happened to you?” Mace asked. Neither of us gave a crap, but I was curious as hell, so I was pleased he’d asked.
He grunted and wiped a hand across his mouth. Peering at us, his glazed eyes made it clear he was still high. “Some jacked-up kids took the rest of my stash.”
Mace huffed in disgust. “Was this before or after you were around Liam’s?” Mace was a dead-set no-bullshitter, a characteristic that I admired and others feared.
David’s eyes travelled to me. He had the good sense to look away and shake his head. “After,” he admitted. “I didn’t mean to go there. I went to see if you were there, Liam.”
“Why the fuck would you do that? Did I not make it clear a few weeks ago? Did Mace not make it clear yesterday?”
His gaze lifted to mine fleetingly. “I know. I don’t know what I was trying to do, or would have said.” His voice was growing stronger, a bit of the David I knew breaking through the drug-induced haze. “I just…I’m sorry. My prison counsellor told me I should make amends.”
Clenching my fists, I felt like lunging at him, could almost hear the crack of my knuckles against his flesh. Instead, I remained seated, thinking about Jo and our baby. “How can you even begin to think there is anything you can say or do to make this right? Your counsellor,” I scoffed at the word, “needs to get a bastard clue. ‘Cause I swear, old man, I see you within a hundred metres of me or Jo again, that black eye you’re donning will be nothing. Just a scratch in comparison to the world of pain I’ll bring down on you.” My plan was he wouldn’t have the opportunity anyway. As soon as I left, I was heading to the cop shop and would be reporting the scumbag.
That time, he maintained eye contact. A flash of defiance, the man I knew him to be, appeared in his eyes before disappearing just as fast. He nodded too quickly for my liking. His acceptance of everything, his refusal to argue back, didn’t sit well. While he was high, the drugs had often sparked his vicious streak, so his calm acceptance set my alarms ringing.
“A nod isn’t going to cut it,” Mace added. “I need the words.”
“Yeah, I got it. I’ll stay away.” He wiped his nose with a jittery hand.
Mace leaned forward. “Just so we’re clear, old man. If it wasn’t for Liam here, you’d already be dead. I will make that happen if I need to. Now back the fuck off.”
“I will.”
I stood, needing to get out of there. I wanted a beer. It was after midday somewhere in the world. Mace followed my lead and we headed to the back gate, neither of us wanting to re-enter the house.
“You’re going to be a dad.”
His voice stopped me in my tracks. Turning slowly, I walked back toward him. I only stopped when I was an inch from his face after bending. “I’m this close from beating Mace to the chase and fucking you over myself. Push me again, say anything remotely related to my family to me again, and I’ll happily do time for you.” The next words fell from my mouth before I could prevent them, my anger too acute to stop them if I had taken a moment for pause. “And don’t get too comfortable. I’m sure your parole officer is going to have a field day with all the conditions you’ve broken.”
His eyes maintained contact with mine. He didn’t waver for a few short moments until he eventually turned his head, signalling he understood. Returning to Mace, we left the yard and headed to our bikes.
“You need a beer?” Mace fastened his helmet as he spoke.
“Damn straight.” While I wished I hadn’t provided him with a warning, there was bugger all I could do about it now. Once I’d tucked away a beer, I’d be filing my complaint. A beer would also let me figure out if I should talk to Jo or not. I was damned aware I’d been walking the line of our ‘honesty first’ policy since I’d first heard of David’s early release, and it didn’t sit well at all. On the flip side, the last thing I needed was Jo stressing and putting herself or our baby at risk. It was a clusterfuck neither of us wanted.
“Come on. Let’s head to mine.” Mace interrupt
ed my thoughts.
Taking one last look at the house, relief swept through me. David would have to have a death wish if he thought about coming within the vicinity of me or mine. He knew us both well enough to know we were not talking shit. When you’d been brought up in a world of violence, it was sometimes hard to leave that shit alone. For Jo, I had made the change, but the urge to lash out sat under the surface. It had lain dormant for the last seven years or so, and I knew I’d need to work hard to bury it again. Jo and my family were too important. I was determined to not allow anything or anyone to screw with what we’d worked so hard to make great.
Chapter Eleven
Jo
It was so much easier than my twelve-week scan. For this one, I no longer had to have my bladder near bursting; our baby was big enough to ensure she would be seen easily, no extra fluid necessary. Prior to our twenty-week scan, we’d discussed whether we’d find out the sex. Even though I was crazy-excited and desperately wanted to know, a part of me was happy to leave it as a surprise.
Since I was the one growing at a crazy rate, I had the last say, much to Liam’s grunts of disapproval.
“So, can you tell if it’s a boy or girl?” he asked the doctor, and received a punch in the arm from me. “Ouch, woman, what’s that for?”
“You know why. Don’t ask.”
“I wasn’t asking. I just asked if she could tell.”
The doctor looked on, amused.
“So, can you tell?”
She nodded. “I can. I’m assuming you don’t want to know.” She directed her question at me.
“No, thank you. We’re going to wait.”
Liam folded his arms and huffed dramatically.
“Oh, stop it. Just think how great it will be on the day.” I briefly took my eyes away from the monitor and our dancing baby. It appeared she had some moves. She was always wriggling around, usually at two o’clock in the damn morning, but watching the screen, reminded me it was all worthwhile and to suck it up. I knew in a couple of days I’d be huffing and sighing, while taking another huge dose of antacids at some stupid hour in the morning. But for the time being, I’d bask in the wonder which was our dancing baby.
