by Cari Quinn
“It wasn’t just because I was in mortal fear of more twins.”
“Only fifty percent?”
She rolled her eyes. “No more than twenty-five percent.”
“Hmm.”
She had to laugh as she trailed her fingers through the light smattering of hair on his chest. “Can we not try to have more kids but not not try?”
“You mean just let nature take its course. Like it did the first time. The first time that worked out perfectly. Didn’t it?”
Amazing that he could just distill all the chaos in her brain into something so simple. “Yes.” She swallowed hard. “I love them so much.” She brushed a kiss over his chest. “I don’t want you to get snipped.”
“Sure about that?” Amusement laced the question.
“Positive.” She pushed him on his back and wiggled on top of him. Not all the way, because they desperately needed to shower. But she had to be close. “We make damn amazing babies.”
His arms came around her and she settled her head on his chest. “About time you figured that out.”
“Oh, I always knew. Your super sperm just unnerves me.”
“As it should, baby. As it should.” He gripped a handful of her hair and rolled her over before shifting his body onto hers. Then he frowned and looked at her hair webbed between his fingers. “Holy shit, your hair’s red.”
“You just noticed?”
“It was dark in here until Simon and Margo burst in. And I wasn’t looking at your head.”
“Asshole.” But she laughed as she hit his shoulder.
He gripped her fist and kissed it. “I love you. And I love you for doing this, even if you’re a mean Grinch who sent me away from my girls on Christmas Eve just so you could shamelessly fuck me in a hotel room. Which, by the way, is probably the best plan you’ve ever had.”
“Oh, it gets better.” She ducked her head as the hijinks in the next room reached a crescendo. “I hope you ate your vitamins this morning.”
His eyebrow spiked. “There’s more?”
“Oh yeah.” She slipped out from under him and rushed toward the bathroom, both because she craved a shower and because hearing her best friend hit the high notes was more than she’d bargained for.
Turnabout was fair play, because holy shit, her own legs were still shaky.
She was a lucky, lucky woman. And Nick was a lucky man. They were both ridiculously blessed.
When he didn’t follow, she leaned against the doorway and grinned at him where he was still sprawled on the bed. Naked and gorgeous, like a long, languid lion.
Her bad boy rockstar who wasn’t so bad at all.
“Two words,” she murmured, crooking a finger at him. She slid her other hand down her belly, bolstered enough by the heat in his gaze to keep going until her fingers skimmed between her legs. Along the outside, then inside, deeply enough she couldn’t stifle her gasp.
He was on his feet in an instant and crossing the room. He grasped her elbows and hauled her up on her tiptoes to speak against her lips. His focus remained on her slyly moving hand. “Merry Christmas?”
“That too.” Her lips curved. “Also, waterproof egg.”
“Hold this pose.” He went back to the bed. A second later, he joined her again and dragged her against him, pressing the toy and the remote into the small of her back. A not-so-subtle demand she was all too happy to fulfill. “Remember how I said you get one orgasm when I’m not inside you?”
Teasing them both, she circled her clit with the pad of her finger. His jaw tightened as she removed her hand from between her thighs and drew her damp finger down his chest. “Uh-huh.”
“Turns out Christmas has new rules.” Grinning, he grabbed her finger and gave it a quick, lascivious suck.
Then he plucked her off her feet and carted her toward the shower while she laughed.
“Oh yeah?” she asked, already breathless.
“Oh yeah. Time to jingle some bells.” He waggled his eyebrows and turned on the water. “And eggs.”
Chapter 7
“We’re earlier than my parents expected.”
Nick grinned and pressed his face into Lila’s hair. Still smelled like apples and it was red to boot.
Stupidly hot, just like the rest of her.
“That’s because I’m the goddamn ninja who can fuck you in less time than expected. Way less.”
Lila patted his chest and hoisted her carry-on higher on her shoulder. “And you should be proud of that. No matter what anyone tells you.”
“I know there’s an insult in there, but it’s Christmas and I’m about to see my babies, so whatever. Guess who’s home, girls?” he called out, elbowing the front door open. He stepped around Lila and dumped their bags in the foyer. “Where are my favorite ninjas?”
“Oh, look at that, girls! Look who’s home,” Mrs. Ronson said loudly from the other room.
The patter of little feet sounded on the floor.
“Dabby!” Avery called.
“Daddy!” Charlie said, nearly knocking over her sister in her haste.
But the first one into the foyer was Klepto, who charged into the hall and leaped into Nick’s arms as if they were being reunited after a year-long separation.
“Hey buddy,” he said, hugging the dog with one arm and crouching down to extend his other arm to his girls. They swarmed him, little hands extended, and Klepto’s tongue bathed Nick’s face as he laughed and fought to hold onto them all.
Lila chuckled. “It’s like I’m chop suey,” she said to her parents. They’d followed the girls into the hall and pulled her into a hug. “Thank you,” Lila said quietly to them, then spoke in an undertone that Nick couldn’t make out.
“Hey,” he called to her parents over the trio of golden heads all vying for his attention. “Glad you’re here. Merry Christmas.”
“Chrissmess, Dabby.” Avery tugged on Nick’s hand before turning to Lila and shrieking, “Mommy!”
“Hiya, baby girl.” Lila stepped back from her parents and bent low to scoop up Avery. Charlie soon followed suit, toddling over to her mother to attach herself to Lila’s leg.
“Santa,” Charlie said plaintively, making Lila laugh.
“I know who’s been drumming that into your head,” Lila said with a mock look of disgust for Nick as she set Avery down with a kiss and picked up Charlie.
Nick rose and rubbed between Klepto’s ears. His dog leaned against his leg and stared up at him adoringly.
“Did Santa come?” Nick asked the girls, who bounced and wiggled though he was fairly certain they had no real clue what the word “Santa” meant, just that it got the adults going.
His daughters might be prodigies, but even they could only know so much at that age.
Klepto’s tail thumped a steady beat on the floor.
“He did,” Mr. Ronson said, hoisting Avery onto his hip. “There are all these boxes, including one really big one that takes up half the living room.” His stern tone demonstrated what he thought of Nick and Lila spoiling the girls, but Nick just shrugged.
He’d grown up with nothing, so his girls deserved the world. End of story.
Mrs. Ronson squeezed Avery’s chubby hand. “And these two wouldn’t finish their breakfast before they got to dig into them.”
“Boxes? For these two? I heard they were bad.” Nick leaned close to Lila and got in Charlie’s face to make her laugh. Her giggles were the best sound in the world.
Avery tried to turn around on her grandfather’s hip. “Not me, she.”
“Nuh uh!” Charlie protested, screwing up her tiny face.
Lila sighed and ruffled her daughter’s silky blond ponytail. “That’s your daughter, all right,” she said to Nick, who only shrugged and snatched Charlie.
“Always good to refuse blame, right, kiddo?” he asked Charlie before giving Mrs. Ronson a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for taking care of these two.”
“They were angels. Until they saw the presents anyway.” Mr. Ronson
laughed and set down Avery, who charged off on unsteady legs toward the twinkling tree.
Immediately, Charlie started to pump her legs, so Nick set her down too and she raced after her sister with the dog bringing up the rear. Spot, the cat, sashayed down the stairs and joined the others in the living room.
She and Klepto had stockings too. Spot’s contained catnip and Klepto’s rawhide.
Lila had given Nick some of his presents on the plane ride back home. He’d been gifted his own selection of toys—ahem—and he couldn’t wait to unwrap them.
Of course, in keeping with tradition, he’d picked out a new pearl necklace for Lila, which waited for her beneath the tree. Her oversized stocking on the mantle contained his idea of smaller gifts—cashmere, fancy perfume, and a pair of crazy fuzzy socks with cat whiskers. She’d explained she’d filled his stocking with guitar picks, replacement strings, and a few other music-themed items since she was sure her parents wouldn’t be impressed he’d received the latest and greatest in cock rings.
His wife never settled for anything less than the best, God bless her.
The sound of paper ripping and a sharp bark made Mr. Ronson sigh. “Charlie, don’t taunt the dog.” He shook his head and went to break up the melee.
Lila and Nick started to follow until Mrs. Ronson stopped them with a raised hand.
“Just a second, kids. The hotel called. I hate to tell you that—”
“I’ll take care of any damages,” Lila said smoothly, her face perfectly composed.
Nick coughed into his shoulder. There might have been a minor incident in the shower, involving a cracked door.
A small crack.
Miniscule, really.
Mrs. Ronson frowned. “What I was going to say was they found a Ripper Records bag that had been left behind and turned into the main desk. They’ll ship it out this afternoon.”
“Oh. Perfect.” Lila smiled coolly and threw a pointed glance at Nick, who was practically choking with laughter. “That’s nice of them.”
She wore her patented icy Dragon Lady expression, one of many he’d grown used to facing down in meetings. And yes, occasionally—often—getting aroused by. At least he hadn’t let having the hots for her keep him from speaking his mind. Or rattling her cage, just for fun.
Then or now.
“So nice. Especially considering we wrecked that suite. Thanks, Mom,” he said, patting his mother-in-law’s arm before he went in to join the family in the other room.
Behind him, he heard Mrs. Ronson ask, “You trashed a suite? Like a rock star? You?”
He glanced back as Lila surprised him by laughing. “Yeah, I guess we did.”
She walked into his embrace and leaned her head on his shoulder. “All your fault. You corrupted me.”
Nick grinned and tugged on her sexy red hair. He didn’t know how long she’d keep it that color, but he intended to enjoy every second. “Merry Christmas.”
Horny St. Deacon
Deacon & Harper
Chapter 1
“Calm down over there. Am I going to have to come up there?”
“No.” Harper put her head between her knees and tucked her phone against her shoulder and ear. “I’m fine. Mostly.”
“This is not a big deal. Me and Gray have talked about it at least…once. I think. Things sort of just keep happening on that front.”
“Not helping, Jazz.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. You’re being adorable, really. You’d think you were asking Deak to hand over half his liver, not a few swimmers. Besides, practicing is way fun.”
She really shouldn’t be freaking out about this. It was a simple question. Hi, honey. I think it’s time we do the baby number two thing. What do you say? So, why did it feel so huge to ask him?
Okay, maybe it was their ridiculous schedule. Harper was juggling her own business and taking care of the band on the road. Luckily she had an awesome partner who took care of the home stuff while Harper got her gypsy on. And honestly Annie could run the entire empire if Harper let her.
Then she had her baby food venture with her best friend, Jazz Duffy—and even that was getting fielded by an assistant right now. They mostly got to do the fun stuff like making recipes.
She and Deacon had a nanny with them to take care of their daughter Lexi during the crazy hours of work.
Everything was on a pretty good trajectory.
But it was a precarious one.
One that relied heavily on her ironclad schedule. Baby-making was not on the agenda—anywhere. Hell, she hadn’t thought it was on her agenda at all. Alexa McCoy had been a surprise and a half. The idea of kids so soon after she and Deacon had gotten married had scared the hell out of her. So much so that she had honestly thought of terminating the pregnancy.
She cupped her hand over her flat belly. The thought hadn’t lasted very long, but the idea of not having Lexi now? It was inconceivable on every plane.
“Did you pass out over there?”
“No.” Harper flopped back onto the mattress and played with the birthstone necklace Deacon had gotten her as an early Christmas present. Two little birds on a platinum chain with hers and Lexi’s birthstones. The man knew just how to melt her heart.
“I heard something. I’m pretty sure it was your brain shorting out like a bad Crock-Pot.”
Harper giggled. “Like that one we had full of peas?”
“Oh God. Don’t remind me. I still can’t smell peas without getting nauseated.”
Harper’s giggle turned into a guffaw. “Your face when the pureed peas started boiling and burning.” She wiped her eyes.
“You laugh, but you weren’t the one covered in molten peas when the pot cracked. I mean, come on. Cracked? If I hadn’t been there myself, I wouldn’t believe it.” Jazz’s voice on the other end of the phone was disgusted.
“I was scrubbing peas out of my grout for weeks.”
“And I had to have the kid who loved peas. I had to live with that smell for months until Briana went to solid food.”
Harper dabbed at her streaming eyes. “Uncle.”
“Stop stalling over there. It’s a simple question. I can even ask it for you. ‘Hey Big Guy, want to make a baby?’ And then lay down with your ankles up. We all know you know how to do that.”
“You’re the one still fucking like bunnies over there.”
“Right, and you guys don’t?”
Harper sighed. “Actually not lately. The few times we’ve gotten to have a second alone we’re interrupted by someone.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Donovan, Simon—now that he’s Mr. Let’s Do New Songs—oh, and our four-year-old. Take your pick.”
“Well, if Deak didn’t have a portable recording studio, you’d have peace.”
“Tell me about it. Not that I can fault them. Simon’s been doing so awesome. Deacon’s so excited about the new album. He’s like a kid in a candy store with all the new material. It’s refreshing to see. I just, you know, miss my husband.”
“Well, he should be on his way up there. Gray and I are going to get some food. I’m assuming you don’t want in?”
Harper looked down at her outfit. “Um, no.”
“Which one did you put on?”
She felt the flush rush up her chest and neck. The problem with her best friend being around all the time was that she knew everything. Including what she’d bought to seduce her husband.
Okay, so she’d helped her pick it out. Whatever.
“The purple one?”
Harper cleared her throat. “The red.”
“Oh, man. You mean business tonight. The boy is toast. You are telling him you want to do the baby thing, right?”
“Of course.” Harper swiped her hand down the lacy bustier. She just had to figure out how to spit out the words, that was all. The beep of the card reader dried up the last of the spit in her mouth. “Gotta go.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks.” Harper checked the
clock. She had an hour left on nanny duty. That should be plenty of time.
The big Oblivion and Warning Sign concert was tonight, which meant Deacon would likely be revved and ready to go afterward. So she’d have more than one shot at the goal today.
“Lawless?”
Her heart flipped. Deacon didn’t use her nickname all that much anymore. But when he did, it was usually because he was excited about something. She gnawed her bottom lip before snatching her robe off the chair. “In here.”
She crossed her legs, then quickly uncrossed them to hide the thigh-highs. She so didn’t wear them normally. He’d totally know something was up.
He filled the doorway to the bedroom. Their hotel room near the concert venue had a suite so Lexi would have a separate room. Getting their four-year-old to stay in her big-girl bed was an endless trial.
His hair was freshly dried and tumbled over his shoulders. Everyone had been busting his ass to cut it, but she secretly loved the long hair. Especially when his green eyes were all sparkly like they were now. He wore a white thermal shirt, which pulled obscenely tight across his chest. And his oldest, most faded pair of jeans with a Lexi masterpiece drawn down one leg.
Her heart melted.
The fact that this man could be so ridiculously rockstar and such a dad at the same time would forever leave her a quivering pile of goo. That and how talented his damn tongue was.
At least once upon a time.
And dammit, tonight she’d re-learn just how much.
He tilted his head and flashed that baffled half-smile he had. “What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
He crossed to her and caged her in against the little desk in the corner of their bedroom. “Something’s up.”
“No.” Her gaze dropped to his jeans. “Well, not yet.”
His eyebrow winged up just before he leaned down to brush his lips against hers. “Where’s Lex?”
“With Macy.”
He hovered a breath away from her lips, his pupils expanding. Damn, was there anyone hotter than her husband? She was pretty sure it was a rare dispute on that one. “For how long?”
