He stilled, glancing down into my eyes. “You’ve used your hand to get yourself off?”
At my nod, he asked, “When?”
“Every night when you were asleep.” I answered.
“Where?” He growled against my lips.
I smiled against his lips. “Right next to you. Every single time.”
“Minx.” He snarled, and then plunged further into me, pumping his hips hard.
The head of his cock was bumping up against my cervix.
Usually it caused a little bit of discomfort when he’d do that so quickly, but today, I was so worked up, that anything felt good. “Yes, harder.”
He ignored me, slowing down instead.
The head of his cock pulled free of my clasping channel, reluctant to let him leave. He used the slickened head of his cock to rub against my overheated clit, running the length of himself through my labia.
The feeling was exquisite, and I didn’t know if I wanted him to continue what he was doing, or start fucking me again.
“Please,” I cried, wanting him to give me that final push I needed to achieve orgasm.
He ignored me again, continuing to work his heavy dick through my slippery folds.
Then I cheated. On his next withdraw, I canted my hips and placed the palm of my hand right before my entrance, forcing his fat cock to tunnel deep inside me, causing us both to groan.
“Cheater.” He panted, but didn’t withdraw again.
No, instead, he worked his length deep inside of me in slow, deep pushes. Each plunge and withdraw brought me closer and closer to the pinnacle, to where I was sure with just one hard thrust, he would send me over.
His pace never alternated though. Building up the pressure higher and higher.
He controlled my hips with laughable ease, refusing to let me have any resistance that he didn’t want me to have. So I used the only other tool in my arsenal. My vaginal muscles.
Everybody’s done kegals at some point in their life, tightening and loosening those muscles, testing the feelings, the way it made everything feel so super tight. Well, that’s exactly what I did. I clamped down on his cock, tightening the muscles of my core so tight that even my abdominals ached, and he exploded.
Everything seemed to happen at once.
My muscles clamped down, he groaned loudly, withdrew, and then slammed back home so hard that I swore I felt him deep inside my belly. He held off just long enough to feel me detonate, which lit his own fuse, causing him to explode only milliseconds after me.
Hot jets of his semen filled me. So much so that he started seeping out of the side, and down onto the bed below our bodies.
“Holy fuck,” he panted as he disengaged himself from me, dropping into a heap right beside me.
I didn’t move much from my own position, only collapsing my elbows and laying my face flat against the cool sheets of our bed. “Your control sucks.” I panted.
He groaned. “I wanted it to be special. I was doing good too until you used those muscles of yours, and then I was a goner.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, and then promptly fell asleep, ass in the air and all.
***
“Hello?” I heard James voice as if from a distance.
My eyes blinked reluctantly open, and I saw the room was completely dark except for the blue numbers blinking 3:37 A.M. on the alarm clock.
“Yeah?” James voice changed from sleepy to completely alert with the blink of an eye.
“Oh, no. Is it too early?” James asked; panic tinging the edge of his voice.
I rolled over, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. Then I went to the bathroom, showered quickly, dressed, and started picking our bags up from the closet when he came in from the kitchen with two travel mugs of coffee.
“Guess you figured out the baby was on the way. They’re pretty sure they’ll have to do surgery, but they’re going to wait and see. Are you ready?”
The thing was...I was. I was married to him. He was the love of my life. The father of one of the most well rounded children on earth.
He held me up when I needed him the most.
There were many things that scared me on this earth, but I well and truly believed that, with James, I could accomplish anything. Be anyone.
James took me on the wildest ride of my life, and I couldn’t wait to start this brand new journey with him.
Seriously. Could. Not. Wait.
Epilogue
Marrying you was the best thing I’ve ever done for my vagina.
-Anniversary card
James
“Please everyone, quiet. Kayla, Janie, do you mind?” The principal of Kilgore High School asked.
Through his microphone.
In front of five hundred students, twice as many parents, family of the students, and the entire teaching staff.
Kayla and Janie’s graduation.
Perfect.
Everyone chuckled around me, but I swear that if that girl were not eighteen years old, I would’ve spanked her in front of the entire graduating class if I could have gotten away with it.
There are many things I’ve learned over the years by being a father of three and that was that a strong hand was needed. To hold my beer. Or on those rare occasions, sometimes even whiskey. Because when you live in a household of women, something’s got to take the edge off. Otherwise, a man, such as myself, would go crazy.
“Daddy, you need to lighten up. Janie’s finally graduating. You’re lucky she’s not pregnant and on that reality show ‘Sixteen and Pregnant.’” Scout, our brainiac of a middle child, informed me.
“She’d be on Dateline before I allowed her to be on that show.” I grumbled.
Although Scout wasn’t of my blood, I’d treated her as my own from the very minute that she was brought into my life. I still remember that day as if it was yesterday. But most importantly, I remember how our family gathered around the newest member of the Free family, and cherished her like she was always meant to be cherished.
***
Twelve years ago
First night home with the new baby
“You know. That looks an awful lot like Cat. Are you sure you’re not going to mix the two up?” Janie asked me from her perch at my side.
I looked down at the sleeping infant, Scout, in my arms and smiled.
“She does look a lot like Cat, doesn’t she?” I agreed.
“Don’t let Jack take the baby though. She’s ours.” Janie said, narrowing her eyes at Jack as he laughed at what my daughter had just said.
Janie was very protective of Scout.
As soon as we’d pulled into the driveway, Janie had rushed forward, eager to meet the newest member of our family. She’d even been the one to pick out Scout’s name.
“We’ll make sure he stays on the straight and narrow. Don’t worry.” I said, handing the baby off to Cheyenne as she cooed and cawed at her.
“Jesus, Cheyenne. You sound like a motherfucking bird. Can’t you keep your sounds straight?” Ember growled as she stared at the baby. “Let me hold her, you’ve had her long enough.”
“She fits in great.” Shiloh exclaimed from my side.
I held my arm up, and she fit her body into mine, encircling her arms around my torso. “Yep. Knew she would.”
“Me too.” She joked.
“Who’s next?” Elliott asked the group.
“Next as in next to have a kid... or next as in next to get pregnant?” Blaine clarified.
“Pregnant. Gabe already knocked Ember up. So she doesn’t count.” Elliott quipped.
“That would be me. Found out this morning. Congratulations, honey.” Blaine said mirthfully.
Elliott paled. “Oh, shit.”
Champagne was uncorked, and a celebration commenced. Not only for the newest member of Free, but also for the members to be. I was glad that my children had this to grow up around, because they would alwa
ys have the love and protection of any one of the people in this room, no matter what.
A person needed that, regardless of age, and I valued it for what it was.
Happiness.
***
Present day
“Janie Allen, our salutatorian, graduates with honors with thirty two college semester hours, a 3.97 GPA, perfect attendance, and will be attending the University of A&M in College Station, Texas.” The principal called through the microphone.
At the mention of Janie’s name, our entire group roared. Shiloh was up on her feet, standing on top of the bleachers, stomping and yelling for all she was worth.
“That’s my girl!” Shiloh screamed.
I smiled, hooking my arm around Shiloh’s waist just in case she decided to slip off the bleacher and break her arm for a fifth time.
And yes, I do mean fifth. She not only did it one more time since she was kidnapped, but twice, once at the beginning of her pregnancy with Rebel, and once at the end.
The fifth time she broke her arm was the night she’d gone into labor with Rebel. Emmaline was my baby. She was ten years old, and our last child. We’d originally planned to try for more, but sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.
The memory of the day Emmaline, AKA Rebel, was born was still ingrained in my mind. Like a hot brand that would forever be a reminder of a time in my life that I literally felt like everything was falling apart.
***
Ten years ago
October
It was Halloween.
The day I dreaded the most out of any day of the year.
For some reason, this was the night that every single irrational person in the small city of Kilgore decided to let their crazy out to play. I’d been introduced to the night three years ago when I’d started with the Kilgore SWAT team, and each subsequent year got worse and worse. Somehow topping the year before it.
I’d managed to get out the door with the kids dressed in their matching Raggedy Anne outfits, and even to the first house before my pager went off.
I’d left a very pregnant Shiloh in the hands of her brothers, Cheyenne, and my mother, before jogging all the way back home, hopping onto my bike, and arriving at the station, only to turn around and head back home. It’d been a false alarm, and I was annoyed with damn near everyone who crossed my path.
I didn’t want to leave Shiloh, not with her four days past her due date and walking around the city. Before I’d left the station to head back home, I’d informed the Captain that I would be taking my leave effective immediately.
When I got home, I’d checked with Sam, and met back up with the group at a very old home that was one of the oldest in our neighborhood.
It was the type of house that you had to practically climb up a hill to get to the front door.
Cheyenne had Janie in front of her, and her youngest child’s hand in one of hers while the other held the hand of Scout. Sam was sandwiched between the twins, and Shiloh followed up in the rear.
Just as Shiloh approached midway down, two teenagers came barreling down the steps with the entire bowl of candy from the house, with the owner yelling at them about their rude behavior.
Instead of avoiding our slow moving group, they’d decided to plow straight through them. I watched in horror as the two teenagers blasted through them, causing not only the kids to fall, but to my utter horror, Shiloh as well.
Where the kids had been lucky, having the parents right there to catch them, Shiloh hadn’t been as fortunate. The massive weight of her belly altered her balance, and she teetered forward, and then backward before her heels slipped out from underneath of her.
She’d managed to control her fall somewhat by throwing her arm out and maneuvering her body to the side so she didn’t fall on the children, but endangered herself more in the process.
She’d hit the rock pathway first, causing the same arm she’d broken so many times before to break like like a match stick. Then she rolled down the steep slope until she came to rest at the very bottom in a crumpled mess.
It all took no less than thirty seconds, but in that thirty seconds, time felt like it slowed down to a crawl.
I’d watched in dismay as she fell, and I’d moved, but there was nothing I could do but witness the entire ordeal.
She’d been in a lot of pain once she came to a standstill and covered from head to toe in blood. In the ambulance, she’d coded twice, and as soon as she was rushed to the hospital, I was informed that the placenta had detached from the uterine wall during her fall. She was rushed into surgery ruthlessly fast in a vain attempt to save the baby’s life, even though nobody was optimistic, not even myself.
I’d collapsed into the closest chair that allowed me to see the operating room they’d taken her into, and waited for over an hour before I was given any news.
A nurse was the first to exit, and in her arms, she held a precious bundle of pink swaddled closely to her chest. She deposited the baby into my arms before telling me the outcome.
“Your wife is currently still being operated on. They were able to get the baby out in time; however, due to the damage caused by the abruption, the bleeding couldn’t be stopped. The doctor’s in the process of removing Shiloh’s uterus in an attempt to get the bleeding under control.” The nurse explained
The baby and I waited another forty-five minutes for news.
I felt like Kevin Bacon in that movie She’s Having A Baby. I was totally and utterly lost. I had a baby, but no Shiloh. And although the baby was absolutely beautiful, I couldn’t celebrate yet, which made me feel like a big pile of shit.
I berated myself for hours on what I could’ve done differently, what I should be doing differently even now, but only managed to grab a hold of my overloaded emotions when the same nurse returned with a wide smile on my face.
I took a deep breath, and thanked the nurse, waited for her to round the corner, and then promptly fell apart.
I knew I was being watched.
I knew my brothers, as well as family and friends were just down the hall, and that nurses were watching me lose it, but I couldn’t help it.
I looked at that baby, the one that had Shiloh’s beautiful brown hair, and her big precious eyes, and I wept.
Or like Shiloh liked to say, watered my beard.
The good news was my wife was okay. My baby was okay. The bad news? My heart would never be the same.
***
Present
Rebel scooted closer into my side, burrowing in behind me, holding on while we all cheered for Janie.
At ten years old, she was hell on wheels, and she was daddy’s little girl for sure.
She lived for the opportunity to watch daddy shoot, work on motorcycles, wash the car, or even play a video game.
Where I was, she was, much to Shiloh’s annoyance.
In Rebel’s eyes, I could do no wrong.
“Daddy, lift me up. I can’t see Janie.” She yelled.
I did as instructed, and we all watched as Janie crossed the stage, biker boots and all, to accept her diploma.
“Thank God.” Shiloh muttered quietly from beside me.
I looked down into her beautiful face.
She was a little older now, a little more curvy. Her hair had pale silver strands that threaded through her brown locks here and there, but not in one single way did it detract from her beauty.
She was still just as loving and caring now, if not more so, than she’d been when I’d met her twelve years ago. “You can say that again.” I declared, smiling down at her.
Her eyes warmed as she looked from my smile to my daughter that was perched on the top of my shoulders. “One down, two to go.” She said, eyes twinkling.
“And now, I’d like to present to you the 2026 class Valedictorian, Kayla Nash!” The principal cheered.
Around us, our little family roared.
Kayla hadn’t led an easy life.
At the age
of two, she’d lost her father, and one of my best friends, to the war in Iraq.
Eight years later, she lost her only other living relative, to cancer.
She’d moved in with us a couple of months before her grandmother had gotten too sick, where she’d remained for the last eight years. Each Sunday, like clockwork, she’d visit her father and grandmother, who were buried next to Kayla’s grandfather. There, she’d tell them her hopes and dreams, and goal of becoming the valedictorian, and then on to become a doctor that searched for a cure for cancer.
Every bit of instinct I possessed knew she’d accomplish that goal, too.
“Hello, class of 2026!” Kayla yelled into the microphone.
She was beautiful, and to see her standing there, wearing her yellow sash that declared her at the top of her class, I got a little teary eyed thinking about all that Dougie had missed when he’d died.
“One of my biggest motivators to be where I am today is because of one man.” She said, swallowing thickly. “He’s in heaven, and I call him daddy.”
Silence reined at her announcement, and I heard Cheyenne lose her battle with tears next to me.
“Sixteen years ago, he died protecting his country. He died doing what he loved. He died being a hero. My hero.” Kayla finished on a whisper.
Her tears spilled over her cheeks, but the waver in her voice didn’t stop her.
“He wrote me a letter while he was over there, and had one of his best friends in the world bring it home to me, to keep it safe until I was old enough to understand it.” Kayla said. “I’m going to read it to you, and maybe you’ll find inspiration in what he’s written to me, too. Or maybe once you leave here, there won’t be one single thing you enjoyed about my speech, but you’ll forever remember this letter. You’ll remember it when you need it the most, just like I have.”
She cleared her throat, and then started reading.
Pumpkin,
I’m writing this letter on a beautiful sunny day in the middle of an open desert.
Although you might not know it, I loved you very much. You were my world. From the moment I first saw you, I knew you’d become something great. Something this world has never experienced before.
Texas Tornado (Freebirds Book 5) Page 31
