Chapter Six
~Emily~
“Well good morning to you too, little one.” I kiss Jenna on the cheek, as I plop out my breast to feed her. This breast feeding shit is no joke. My boobs were medium sized before. Now, they’re huge and they leak milk like a cracked pipe. I might have felt like the size of a cow before. But now, I am the cow, creamy milk and all.
I’ve only been a mom for the past forty eight hours and I must say it’s been an amazing two days. I’m sore from the C-section, but it’s not as bad as some people say. I’ve hurt worse with my endo. That now, according to Dr. Golds, is gone for good. Thank the heavens.
“Hey Mama Bear,” James, my sexy man says, opening his eyes with a sleepy smile.
“Hey to you too. Did you get some sleep?”
He was up part of the night taking care of the babies as I rested. I was exhausted and he’s been so wonderful through everything. I don’t know what I’d do without him.
Turning his head, he fixes his stare at the clock on the wall and morosely frowns. What is that all about?
“You okay?” I inquire, reading his body language and it’s the opposite of happy.
He shakes his head, an obvious answer to my question.
Feeding Jenna, I watch as James leans back in his chair. Rubbing his stubbly jaw, watching me in silence. The air between us is somehow smoky with words that I can’t describe. Love? Longing? Resolve?
Smoothing Jenna’s curly red hair with my fingers, she passes out. Breast milk leaking from the corner of her delicate mouth. I swipe it away with my finger and unlatch her from my breast.
James stands without a word and lifts his daughter out of my arms and into his, carrying her sweetly back over to her hospital bassinet and retrieving a grunting Eric.
“Here.” He offers our son and I tuck his little head into the crook of my arm and position his mouth to my other swollen nipple. Rooting his mouth around, he latches on and I lean back, getting more comfortable. I don’t know if I will ever get used to this breast feeding thing. Although I must say my body is fully capable of sustaining two growing babies. My milk is thick and rich. Or that’s what Dr. Golds said yesterday when she came by to examine me.
James stands next to the bed, attentively watching Eric feed. His eyes glazed over, like he’s deep in thought. Maybe he didn’t get much sleep last night?
“You okay sweetie?” I ask.
He shakes his head back and forth, scrubbing his eyes with his palms.
“We need to talk,” he retorts lowly, crouching over the bed, reaching for Eric and lifting him from my arms with ease. Cradling Eric loving to his big chest, he presses my red call button.
“Yes?” Nurse Shelly answers with her normal upbeat friendliness. She’s been my favorite nurse since the beginning and James’s too. She’s so personable and lovely. When I leave here I will for sure be sending her a thank you gift, if James hasn’t already done so.
“It’s time to do that thing we discussed yesterday,” he tells her, his voice suddenly strained but he face is giving away nothing.
“Oh,” her sweet voice recedes.
Shit, this doesn’t sound good.
“Be right in, James,” she finishes, clearing her throat with the speaker still on. I can hear her whispering to other nurses about moving the twins to the nursery and calling some doctor named Stephanie Pierson. Whoever she is. Definitely not a name I can recall.
“Oh crap,” I hear somebody blurt loudly, echoing through the speaker of my room and the intercom goes silent with an audible clicking noise.
Taking a seat next to me, James sits in awkward silence, bringing Eric out at arm’s length, cupping his tiny head in his huge hands, Eric’s body laying length wise down Papa Bear’s forearms, his feet touching Papa’s black shirt covered chest. James stares down at our son, like there’s nothing else in the room. Deep breaths permeate the air as I watch his back and shoulders rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. I can’t see his face, but I can feel this is somehow a private personal moment for them as Eric’s eyes rest laxly on his Papa, who’s looming partway over him.
“I know this isn’t possible but when I look at him, I see parts of me,” he states, breaking the pregnant silence and drawling out a long sigh. “He’s so handsome, I never thought I’d be a dad. You have to fall in love first, then everything is supposed to come. But here I am.” He bends forward, placing a kiss atop Eric’s head, lingering there.
Removing his lips, he sits up and turns to look at me. I mean really look at me. Like he’s never looked before. Something in his hazily eyes speak feelings I don’t even know if he can express and my heart soars, pounding full of immense love and forever devotion in my chest.
“I want you.” He coughs and shifts on the bed, “No, I need you to know that no matter what happens in our lives, I love you. You mean everything to me.” He briefly shuts his eyes, squeezing them tightly. The lines accenting his eyes, burrowing into deeper, harder, creases.
Reopening them, they search mine and bore into me with the strength of a thousand bolts of lightning.
“You. Are. Everything,” he growls, in his husky tone.
Drenching my core with sudden wanton need.
Oh wow! He’s hot.
If only we could make love. Oh, how I’d love to have him hold me as he glides his perfect cock into my greedy core.
I vigorously chew the inside of my cheek, willing the sexual urge away.
I never knew you could truly love someone as completely as I do James. We fit like Ross and Rachael, or Mr. Darcy and Ms. Bennett, or Romeo and Juliet. Without the tragedy, of course. God knows I’ve had enough drama to last me a hundred lifetimes.
A slight knock sounds at my door and is pushed open by Shelly as she enters. The woman I’ve known for months has a nearly visible dark cloud hanging over her head. Her youthful face stricken with obvious grief.
What happened to her?
Behind her tails another nurse, carrying the same depressive expression on her slightly aged face. Her features grim, squished; like she just smelled something foul. Or she’s experiencing actual pain.
“We’re here to take the twins to the nursery for a few tests,” Diane, my older nurse mutters and finally glances at me. As her eyes briefly collide with mine she distinguishably winces.
What the hell?
Do I look that bad? I guess I haven’t actually looked in the mirror since yesterday.
“Um… Okay?” I trail off, completely confused.
Why is everybody all of a sudden so morose?
James places Eric back into his bassinet with a kiss. “I love you.” He whispers and Diane begins to roll the bassinet cart from the room. Then he makes his way to a sleeping Jenna and kisses her forehead, down her rosy cheeks and finishes by kissing both of her tiny gown covered hands.
I sit back and observe as my eerily quiet room becomes devoid of children. James escorts the nurses into the hall, each of them wheeling a baby’s hospital bed. Which is a clear plastic tub with a mat and a sign with the baby’s birth information attached. Nothing overly fancy. The tub sits on top of a brown wooden cart that’s almost like a dresser on wheels but lighter.
Shifting in bed, I raise the bed into a more comfortable position with the controls and hold my pillow against my incision.
Any abdominal movement in the slightest feels like my stomach is about to rip in two. As they decrease my pain meds, I experience even more discomfort. But I’m determined to get out of bed this afternoon again.
Yesterday, twenty-four hours after surgery I spent the better part of an hour arguing between Dr. Golds and James to get out of bed to use the bathroom and shower. I won, of course.
No more godforsaken catheter for me! Thank god I didn’t have to endure that for months like some patients do. A few days was enough to make me want to throw a temper tantrum like a two year old. Let me tell ya, some may think ‘Hey a catheter, no problemo.’ Fuck no, tell me that when you have a giant belly th
e size of a hot air balloon and two very active babies playing soccer with your bladder. It bodes for more pain than the convenience of not getting up to relieve the need to pee.
Scratching my legs, I hear the scuff of boots in the hall, followed by whispers and then James comes strolling into my room looking like somebody just died. Eyes bright red and puffy. His nose is even a tinge of red, which isn’t good. This can’t be good at all.
My heart suddenly twinges just by observing the man of my dreams in discernible distress.
“Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask in a loving gentle tone.
“No.” His voice drops as his shoulders follow suit and do the same.
“Come here.” I pat the bed. “Let me make it all better,” I offer, guiding him with sweet encouragement. A soft smile dancing on my face.
He takes the invitation and drops onto the bed. All of his weight causing it to creak out in anger.
“Come here,” I coax again, with my arms open wide. Offering him a comforting hug.
Something’s not right with my Bear and I’m about to find out what.
Leaning into me, I envelop my arms tightly around him. His hands wrapping around my lower back, his head nestled into the full voluptuousness of my mountainous breasts. Caressing down his back, I rub to soothe him. My lips planted into his short black hair.
God, he smells divine. You’d think after two months and no cedar lined room, he’d stop smelling like it. But somehow he still does. Like the scent is a part of him. Forever woven into his deliciously handsome DNA.
“We don’t have much time.” He mumbles into my cleavage.
“We… huh...ah-what-ah?” I stammer out, discombobulated.
“I love you.” He hugs me tighter.
“I love you, too,” I affirm, my tone steeped in bewilderment. My nose wrinkles up as my brain travels a million miles an hour.
This is strange. Why is he acting like this? So many questions. No obvious answers.
“We need to end this. I’m calling off the engagement,” he grumbles.
Whoa! What the motherfucking hell?
Impulsively I slap him in the back of the head, but he keeps ahold of me. His arms like vices around my back. His face nearly making an imprint into my plush mounds.
“What the fuck do you mean, you’re calling off the engagement?” I enunciate the sentence, in a loud and sure as fucking hell pissed off tone.
Did I seriously just hear his ass correctly?
He needs to have his head examined pronto, if he thinks I’m not going to be with him. That’s ludicrous.
“Remember when I told you I work for the government?”
“Uh—yeah.”
This better not be going where I think it might be.
“They called me on Monday and are ordering me to report in. I tried my damnedest to get out of it. But I have no choice. I’m so sorry,” he says, stronger this time. His lips pressing small kisses between my breasts, against my sternum. Igniting little zings into my panties. He’s got to stop this damn distraction!
“Are you trying to make me cry, be angry or have an orgasm? Because mister, you are flirting with all three,” I huff into his hair, complexly frustrated.
“I don’t want to leave.” He kisses my sternum again, his lips lingering, hard pressed to my Johnnie covered flesh. His hot breath enticing my skin. Filling my panties with moist lust.
“When?” I whisper, holding back an impending moan. Biting my lower lip.
“In an hour,” he wispily states, gliding his hands further down my back to cup my firm bottom. Kneading my excited flesh with his strong loving hands.
“I don’t want you to leave,” I groan, holding him tighter.
Sitting up, he runs his nose up my neck and along my chin. Nuzzling his way up to my mouth.
Damn, he feels so good. I’ve been waiting for him to touch me like this for so long. I can feel the stirring of an orgasm churning in my burning hot core. I need more!
“Kiss m…” the words daintily slip from my lips.
But before I can finish he smashes his mouth to mine. Sucking the air from my lungs. Leaving me breathless and whole. I need him. I need all of him. Always and forever. My Bear. The most perfect specimen of a man.
His tongue lavishly strikes into my mouth with a deep groan and I accept him. My lungs unable to keep up with my need for air. My heart pounding restlessly in my chest. I claw at his back. Dragging my nails to the bottom of his shirt and yanking it up his thick muscled back.
Quickly pulling away from my mouth, he allows me to tug the shirt over his head. Helping me, he withdraws his arms and I toss the black cotton tee onto the floor. Leaving me with the most magnificent sight. Beautifully delicious Papa Bear. Smooth, tanned, tattooed skin with broad shoulders and fuck-me hips.
Eagerly diving back in, he captures my mouth and passionately swirls his minty tongue with mine. Slipping my hand downward I cup his massive cock in my hand and squeeze its girth, through his pants. A moan breaks into my mouth from his and I suck his tongue hard. Just like I would his dick.
I am so fucking hot. I don’t think I can take this anymore.
His hands find my breasts and squeeze. And milk spews from them, soaking my gown in creamy juices.
“I want to suck,” he declares against my lips, his fingers rolling my nipples into hard buds of desire.
“Yes,” I make out. Barely able to register any of my feelings. My body filled with sorrow, want and need. Is too much to bare. Too long have I wanted his hands to take me again as his. Too long have I waited to have him inside of me again. Too much, too fast.
But oh… do I love it!
Unbuttoning the top of my Johnnie at the shoulders, he drops it down, off of my arms, revealing my swollen breasts.
“Beautiful,” he claims with a bright smile. Leaning away, he watches his own fingers draw circles around each pert nipple. Making me arch my back to press them into his warm hands. Seeking more attention.
“I’m going to suck them. I’m going to drink them.” He eyes my nipples, rolling a nipple in his finger a pool of white milk forms at the surface and his mouth closes in. Sucking me into his hot velvety perfection. I gasp loudly and grab his head, pressing him harder against my breast. Inviting him to take whatever he wants.
Taking long pulls at my nipple I can feel my sweetness filling him.
“Mmmmm...” he bellows deep in his chest, swallowing my offering.
“More.” I finger his short hair, ordering him to suck harder. After he drains me, his mouth drops my heavy breast with a pop and he lunges for my other. Relieving the pressure that’s engorging them one long pull at a time. I feed him and in turn he feeds me. My soul, my love, my undying need for him.
Nipping my tender bud with his teeth, I suck in a deep breath and let out a long moan. Fuck… I think I might come. My core is molten lava of damp wanton need. Ecstasy floods my veins.
Oh James… yes….oh god.
“James, make love to me,” I breathlessly order. My eyes heavily lidded, high on arousal.
“I can’t,” he breathes hotly, temporally leaving my seeping nipples. I look down to see a little milk drip and he catches it with his tongue. The sight makes me need his thickness inside me even more. And I grab the sheets as he gently saws my nipple between his front teeth, with a dark feral smile adorning his rugged face.
“You can fuck my ass,” I reply, with little tact. No time for pleasantries. I feel like I might burst at any moment.
He darkly chuckles. “Does Mama Bear need Papa to do that? It’s not going to hurt you is it?” He winks up at me and I about lose it.
Fuck hurting me, if he can’t claim my pussy he can have the only place in my body no cock has ever been. Inside of Anna. The place that was only Claire’s. And now will forever be only James’s.
“I. Do. Not. Care.” I push his head back from my breast. I am going insane with a pent up insatiable need to come.
“How?” He stands next to
the bed. Rubbing his hand up and down his hard length straining to break free from his cargo pants.
“I will move and you will fuck.” I lick my lips and watch as he closes his eyes and savors his own over pants masturbation.
“Don’t get too excited. I want you to fill me. Not your boxers.” I smirk and sit up further in bed, pressing my hand to my stomach for support. Fuck it does hurt…But I don’t give a damn. This is going to happen.
Offering his hand, I accept it and stand to remove my gown. He kneels and glides my gown down my body until it pools around my feet at the floor. I gaze down at my wrecked post pregnant physique. I look terrible. My stomach is bruised and stretched and covered in deep purple marks. It’s ugly and I scowl at the sight. Looking away in sheer disgust.
“Hey!” His sexy voice booms in the room louder than I expected. Forcing me to snap my gaze to meet his.
Wrapping his arms around my backside he presses his lips to my disgusting stomach and kisses it repeatedly. “You are beautiful and perfect, Emily.”
He’s so sweet. A saddened and heartfelt tear breaks from my eye, cascading down my cheek. What would I ever do without him? What will I ever do? Oh god, he’s leaving me. I swallow hard and rest my hand on his head that’s still pressed to my body.
“I don’t think I can be without you.” I choke back a tear. Suddenly my chest aches something more painful than I have ever imagined. Is it breaking?
“Stay here baby. Stay in the moment,” he softly orders, licking my ugly stretched flesh. But Jesus that feels damn good. I sigh and throw caution to the wind. Giving him what we both need.
“Ok.” I nod, run my finger down the side of his face with a loving smile and turn around. Kneeling on the bed I hit the controls to recline it slightly and I crawl forward, pressing my stomach to the top part, my arms wrapping around the edge. The pressure of the bed against my incision providing the support and comfort I need.
Stricken Rock Series: Complete Box Set Page 70
