Shattered & Mended (Shaken Series)

by Julie Bailes

  Twelve

  ~Allie~

  I’m wakened by Blake’s hardness pressing into my ass, and his lips trailing kisses along my arm. “Morning, beautiful.” I roll onto my back, and he positions himself over me, holding his body weight off my slightly swollen stomach with his perfectly-chiseled arms. As he smiles down at me, I get a whiff of his minty-fresh breath.

  “Ah, you’ve prepared for some morning lovin’, yeah?” I smile, leaning up to capture his mouth with mine.

  “Indeed, I am,” he replies, smiling against my lips. My insides begin to sing, hoping this is the day he finally gives me release. I need this from him. He’s kept his distance, sexually. He’s terrified of causing me pain, but I want it. As long as my pain is from pleasure, I welcome it with open legs. I reach behind his head and tangle my fingers into his tousled hair, pulling him down closer to me. He lifts one of his arms and uses his hand to caress up and down the outside of my thigh. The warmth that spreads throughout my entire core, just from his touch, causes me to let out a soft, erotic moan.

  He breaks our kiss and replaces his lips on my neck, kissing and sucking just beneath my ear. I reach down between us and rub the length of his hard cock; a rough growl sounds from deep within his throat. I reach into his boxers and firmly wrap my fingers around his shaft, and then I stroke him. He bites my neck and presses into me. “Quite the temptress, baby,” he whispers, nibbling my earlobe. His tongue travels down my neck until he’s at my breast, sucking my sensitive nipple into his mouth. My nipples hurt, but the pleasure outweighs the pain.

  I bite my lips in attempt to muffle another hungry moan, but fail. At my moan, he smiles and releases my nipple, trailing warm, wet kisses down the middle of my stomach. “B, please, I need you.” He ignores my plea and continues farther down, licking up and down each of my slippery folds.

  His teeth bite down on my throbbing and extremely-sensitive bud. I whimper from pleasure. I can feel him smile against my pussy as he finds delight in the blissful torture he’s providing me. I reach down and attempt to pull him back up to me, but his biceps contract as he resists. He lifts his head, and his hungry, hazel eyes meet mine; they’re burning with desire.

  “Patience, my beautiful.”

  Patience? What the fuck is that? No such thing exists when you are as horny as I am. “Blake, baby, please. I need you to put me out of my misery. Please,” I beg.

  A satisfied grin displays across his face before he lowers his head. His mouth devours my sex. And as soon as he inserts his fingers, I toss my head back and close my eyes. His fingers thrust in and out of me as his tongue claims my swollen clit. And it doesn’t take long for me to dig my nails into the flesh of his back and ride out my glorious orgasm. When my legs begin to shake uncontrollably, Blake removes his finger and licks up my juices. I lie limp, contently paralyzed from pleasure.

  Blake leans up and brings his face to mine. “And, you’re welcome, babe,” he boasts, kissing me before rolling off the bed. “Now, get up. We have to get to the hospital.” The orgasm I just experienced was fierce, the first I’ve had in months, and I’ve been orgasmed into exhaustion. Now that I’m satisfied, all I want to do is fall back asleep.

  Weeks have flown by and I’m almost back to normal. No more nausea, head pain, or dizziness. However, my ribs are still a little sore, feeling more bruised rather than cracked. Today’s my first OB appointment since being released from the hospital. I chose one of the finest physicians in our area, Dr. Ryan Wilters. Blake isn’t happy about my choice to see a male gynecologist, but unlike most, I’m just not that comfortable with a woman befriending and fondling my pleasure-pole hole.

  “Are you sure you can’t see Dr. Stork? She comes highly recommended, and she’s had children, so she can sympathize,” he begs, pulling into the parking lot.

  I place my hand to the side of his face and lean over to kiss his lips. “Answer me one question. Do you believe Dr. Wilters is capable of taking great care of the babies and myself?” I ask.

  “Yeah, he is. But—”

  “But nothing, Blake. Come on, I don’t want to be late.”

  Being the smart ass that I am and ending the conversation, I swing open the door, only to realize I have to wait on him to come and help me down. Behind me, I hear him laughing softly. “Thought you could just cut me off and escape, didn’t you?” Damn him and this big-ass truck. Damn them both to hell. “Sorry, beautiful, but you aren’t getting the last word this time,” he teases. He climbs out of his big yellow monster and begins to walk toward the building. Smiling, he turns around and flashes a cocky grin in my direction. “Comin’, baby?”

  “Seriously, B?” He jogs back to the truck and comes to the passenger’s side, where I sit with my legs dangling out the side of the truck.

  “Nah, come here,” he insists, reaching up and grabbing me by the waist. He glides me and my small baby bump down his front, causing heat to consume my core. Immediately, my mind flashes back to the night at Willie’s when I finally realized just how much I need him. He’s my rock; the glue that’s mended my heart back together.

  When my feet are situated on the ground, we stand here holding each other and gazing into one another’s eyes. As my temperature rises, I feel our bodies melting, becoming one. “Things have been crazy lately, with you working doubles and all. I miss you,” I declare.

  “Fuck, Al, you can’t even begin to comprehend just how much I miss you. I feel like I’m failing you, babe. I wasn’t there like I should’ve been during your recovery, and it should’ve been me taking care of you, not Wyatt or Lucille.”

  I capture his face between my hands and pull his face down closer to mine. “Blake Andrews, you’re not failing me. Get that shit out of your head, okay? You took care of me long enough. I’m recovered. Now, it’s time I take care of you,” I whisper.

  I remove my hand from his face and trail my fingers down his front, stopping just below his navel. I slide my fingers into his waistband and pull his pelvis into mine. “Aren’t you being naughty,” he smiles, tapping the tip of my nose with his finger. “Get your ass in there before you’re late,” he urges, giving me a soft slap on the ass.

  “Dr. Andrews, if I’m not mistaken, slapping a pregnant woman results in jail time, no?” I tease, moving my hand lower to caress his hardness through his jeans.

  “Baby, you keep teasing me, and we’ll go to jail all right, but it won’t be me that goes. It’ll be you, getting charged for disturbing the peace. Am I clear, or do I need to elaborate a little more?” he asks, speaking softly against my lips. With the warmth of his breath brushing against my lips and his hardness pressing into my stomach, my knees weaken and my brain turns to mush. I can’t speak. I can’t nod. I can’t do anything. I’m speechless, mindless, and ready to be taken by him this very second. “Ah, silence. Blake - two, Allie - zero. Let’s go.” He takes my hand and leads us to the building.

  Once we’re in the office, I sign in, fill out all the required forms, let them copy my insurance card, and have a seat. The office is nice, with baby portraits hanging on the wall, complimentary coffee, water, and hot chocolate. There’s a large waterfall built into the wall that releases a peaceful sound of flowing water. But for pregnant women? For us it’s not so peaceful. I’ve seen at least three women make several trips to the restroom, including myself. It’s bad enough to have a human trapped inside of you using your bladder as a trampoline. Add sounds of flowing water, and you’ve got enough pee to fill up a creek, and from me alone.

  “Miss Anderson,” I hear the nurse call. Blake takes my hand and we stand together to walk over to the nurse. “I’m Kylee, nurse for Dr. Wilters. How are you?” I let her know that I’m fine, and she begins to go about her routine, checking my weight, pulse, blood pressure, and makes me pee in a cup. She points us into an exam room and hands me a disposable gown and sheet. She tells me to undress completely and have a seat on the table. “Dr. Wilters should be in here shortly,” she informs, leaving me to undress.

&nb
sp; We’ve been waiting for forty-five freaking minutes, and no sign of the doctor. “Why do they tell you ‘he should be in shortly’ when they know doctors are never on schedule?” I ask, frustrated.

  “He’ll be here, calm down. I’m sure he has a good excuse, probably called in for a delivery. Get used to it, gorgeous. OBs are the worst.”

  “I know. I’m just easily irritated today.”

  “It’s normal to feel that way. You can’t help it, it’s your hormones,” he shrugs.

  I remember being emotional when I was pregnant with Lacy, but not to this extent.

  Occasional crying here and there, the feeling of needing to throat punch someone every now and then, but not this sensitive and snappy. I’ve torn Wyatt a new asshole several times over the last few weeks, when all he was trying to do was help. “I guess.”

  Ten minutes later, there’s a knock on the door and a white-haired man with clear, squared-framed glasses walks in. He reaches out and introduces himself before taking a seat. Unlike the hospital, he’s taking my information and typing it into a laptop. “So, I see here that this is your second pregnancy. Is that correct?” I nod to confirm. “Looks like you delivered a baby girl by Caesarean, about four years ago. It says here that she was born at thirty-three weeks. Can you tell me what happened?” he asks.

  “I went in for my twenty-five week ultrasound, and it showed I was having contractions and had dilated to one cm. I was put in the hospital for about a week and given shots to stop the contractions. When the contractions stopped, I was sent home on strict bed rest. Eight weeks later, the contractions returned with a vengeance and nothing they tried stopped them,” I explain.

  He nods and takes notes. “You went into labor naturally, so why did you have the Caesarean?” he inquires.

  “I was in labor for fifteen hours, but while I was pushing something went wrong. Her heartbeat slowed, and she was in distress. They rushed me to OR and delivered her.” My eyes mist as I relive the experience. I was scared out of my mind. I wasn’t prepared for her. I wasn’t prepared to let her go, not so soon. I knew it was going to happen, but deep down I still hoped that Wyatt would return; that he’d prove me wrong and come back as the knight in shining armor I hoped he would be.

  “I see. Well, I see that your ultrasound shows you have an extra hamburger in there. Lie back for me and place your feet into the stirrups,” he instructs. “I’m going to start off with a visual, and then I’ll transition into a vaginal exam,” he explains.

  “Okay,” I reply. Not that he asked me if he could do the exam, but it feels awkward just lying here in silence as he examines me. I look to Blake and see him with his head cocked, watching Dr. Wilters’ every move. He does the exam and stands to press around on my stomach.

  “Yup, there’s definitely two burgers in there,” he laughs.

  He lifts my gown and measures my bump with a tape measure. When he’s finished taking the measurement, he places some jelly across the bottom of my stomach. He takes his fetal monitor and moves it round my abdomen, stopping when he finds exactly what he’s looking for, a heartbeat. He holds the Doppler in place for about a minute and stares down at his watch. As he’s counting, I hear my little love bug moving around. “Great. Baby’s heartbeat is good, and the rhythm is smooth. Now, let me see if I can find the other little rascal.” It takes him a little longer to find the other heartbeat. Just when he thought he found it, the baby took off in another direction. When he finally gets it again, he repeats what he did with the other, listening and counting. “This one sounds well, too. Rhythm is smooth, and heart rate is great,” he smiles. Blake takes over and grabs some paper towels to dry my stomach. “I’ll step out and let you get dressed. Just crack the door when you’re ready.”

  Once I’m dressed, I crack the door as he instructed, and he returns with his nurse at his side, handing me two appointment cards. “I had Kylee schedule you an appointment for an ultrasound in four weeks, and follow-up with me in six. Have any questions?”

  No, I’m pretty sure I understand how all this works. “No, not that I can think of,” I respond.

  “Good. If you happen to think of any later, just call the office,” he advises. Dr. Wilters shakes our hands and leads us out to the check out. I hand over our account to the receptionist, and Blake pays the bill. He places his arm around my waist and leads us out into the parking lot.

  “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I ask as Blake lifts me into the truck. I wonder when he’s going to realize he won’t be able to lift me much longer.

  “It wasn’t awful, but it wasn’t pleasant either.” He shuts the door and jogs around to hop in the driver seat.

  “He’s good; I’ll give him that. It’s just going to take some time for me to get used to him seeing my woman’s goods, that’s all.” I’m not sure if he’s jealous or just protective, but it causes me to smile.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  He reaches over and splays his hand out onto my belly, rubbing it gently. I place my hand on top of his, and we ride in this position until we arrive at his condo. He’s off for the next two days; his cell is cut off, and I’ve been cleared by the doctor—for everything. He’s been working his ass off, and we haven’t slept in the same bed for at least a week. I’m craving him, every beautifully-tanned inch. I should probably take it slow, but that’s impossible, because even though my ribs still ache, my sex aches more. I’m cock-deprived, eager for a fix, and I need a pounding!

  Blake falls asleep on the couch as we’re watching reruns of The Walking Dead, so I decide to tidy up the house. It’s not dirty, just dusty from abandonment. After I dust the living room, wipe down the kitchen, sweep and mop, I discover a mountain of dirty laundry in a hamper on top of the washer. I separate the clothes and throw a load in the washer. I click off the television and take the stairs up to his room. The bed is a mess, and there are towels lying on the floor of the bathroom.

  Before I get started up here, I decide to turn on some music. I crank up the volume loud enough for me to dance, but low enough to keep from waking Blake. I’m not sure where all this energy is coming from. It must be from the time I spent recovering. In an attempt to avoid Wyatt, I stayed in my room most days and just slept. As I’m bent over picking up the towels, warm arms snake around my waist.

  “You don’t have to do that,” Blake says into my ear, his voice raspy from just waking up. “I had planned on cleaning it all tomorrow,” he adds, turning me in his arms so I’m facing him. He tucks the loose pieces of my hair behind my ears. “Let me cook us something to eat. You hungry?”

  “No, not really.” He releases me and bends down to scoop me off my feet. “Too bad; you’re eating anyway. I just thought I’d be nice and let you choose what you wanted to eat.” He carries me down to the kitchen and places me on a stool at the bar. I watch him as he pulls out filet mignon, potatoes, and salad mix. He goes out back to the patio and fires up the grill. I follow behind him, and my eyes catch a hot tub, something I’ve never realized before. He removes his shirt and throws on the steaks. My eyes on him and my mind on the hot tub, I begin to think of all the dirty things I could do with him in there.

  “Can we get in later?” I ask, running my fingers along its cover.

  “Yeah, but it won’t be hot. It’s not recommended for pregnant women to submerge themselves in hot water for extended periods, but I can make the water lukewarm. Is that okay?”

  Normally, I like my water scalding hot, but I can guarantee the water’s going to heat up without a thermostat. “As long as you’ll join me and keep me warm,” I purr, gently scratching his chest.

  “Stop that, dammit. You know I lack self-control around you, and it’s getting more difficult to turn you down. Plus, you need to eat before we do anything,” he scolds. He should be elated that we’re finally able to lose control with each other, but he’s frowning. Is it me? I mean, I’ve gained a few pounds, but only in my stomac
h.

  “What? You don’t want me?” I ask self-consciously.

  “Are you out of your mind? Of course I want you. What possessed you to ask that?” he asks, bewildered.

  “The baby bump,” I say, realizing I’m not as thin as I used to be.

  “Fuck no, baby, I fucking love the baby bump,” he assures. He walks over and kneels in front of me, and then places his hands on either side of my growing belly. “I love looking at your belly, watching it grow, and knowing that you’re growing a part of me,” he adds, raising my shirt and placing a kiss to each side of my stomach.

  “It hasn’t been long enough for your ribs to heal, and you know I lose control when it comes to you. I’m terrified of hurting you.”

  “You won’t. And the only thing that’s hurting on me right now is this.” I push his hand down away from my stomach and place it on my throbbing heat. “Do you feel how hot I get for you? Can you feel how wet you make me?”

  His hand begins to massage my pussy, and I’m so horny that the slightest friction over my jeans causes me to quiver as heat spreads through my entire core. “Damn, baby. I feel the wetness through your jeans,” he notes, his hazel eyes filled with desire.

  I undo my jeans and let them fall to my ankles. “You want to feel wetness, baby? Feel now,” I instruct. He palms my clit and runs his fingers along my folds, spreading them and inserting his fingers one at a time.