by Mignon Mykel
Asher lifted her head to look up at me. “Thank you for coming with me.”
I shook my head. “No thanks needed.” I lowered my head to kiss her lips lightly, but when she shivered against the December cold, I reluctantly pulled back. “Let’s go. We have a plane to catch.”
I startled when sure hands slipped over my ever-growing belly, but quickly relaxed back into Porter.
“Looking good, momma,” he said over my shoulder.
“It’s coming along.” I looked around the nursery that Porter painted a beautiful gray over the weekend. We weren’t going to find out the genders of the babies, and chose to do the nursery in grays and yellows. Behind one rich espresso crib was a mural of white, yellow, and gray fabric alphabet letters, and behind the other, the numbers one through ten.
When Nico went and pointed out last week that they were Rockets colors, I almost broke down and cried in the middle of the room.
Ok, so I did cry.
At twenty-four weeks, any little thing set off the water works: spaghetti sauce that was too bitter, not getting the door unlocked on the first try, Caine sleeping with his head on my big belly, the day Porter first got back on his skates.
Everything.
And Porter thought it was funny, the bastard.
“I was talking about you,” he chuckled as I leaned heavily into him. “How are the rugrats?” He rubbed his hands over my bump. I swore, if he could, his hands would be on my belly twenty-four seven, in hopes he’d feel the first kick from the outside.
Thankfully, the constant vomiting let up about a month before and I was healthily gaining weight, according to my new OB. The babies also had a decent growth spurt, too, because one day, my bump was little, and the next, it wasn’t so little.
“They’re movin’,” I answered, comfortable against him. I could stay right here…
“I’m heading out to practice soon.”
“Did you grab your new brace?”
“Yes, mom.”
I shook my head against his chest, but my grin remained.
Looking up at him over my shoulder, I said, “Be careful on the ice, Porter.”
“I will.” He dropped his head to kiss my lips, and one peck turned to two, and I found myself turning in his arms, my arms winding around his neck as my belly pressed into him.
Sexy times were pretty nil in this house and I missed the intimacy.
Porter still held me all night, but there was a time—before everything happened—the man was insatiable, but then add a painful knee, and a highly sensitive nose, and things had stopped.
I missed him.
I drifted my hands over his shoulders and down his chest, resting my hands flat over his pecs. Porter dropped his hands to my leggings-covered ass, and squeezed appreciatively. He joked that if it weren’t for my ass, he would never be able to tell I was pregnant from the backside. I was all belly.
“When do you have to leave,” I murmured against his lips. There was no sense starting something that couldn’t be finished.
“Twenty minutes.”
“Make love to me, Porter,” I demanded softly, and I watched as he battled with it. I pulled my head back so I could stare up at him, trying my damnedest to give him a stern look.
“Beautiful…”
“Please, Porter. It’s been so long.” Never mind the little news my OB shared with me at my glucose test appointment yesterday, the only appointment that Porter hadn’t gone to. It had been too long, and I needed him now.
His chuckle was dry. “You’re telling me.” I hit his chest playfully before shaking my head.
“Fine. Maybe later.” I may have pouted just for a response.
I pushed away from him and moved out of the nursery, trying to sway my hips, but I never was a super sexual woman, even if Porter made me feel like the sexiest woman alive these days.
Before I could get down the hall and into the living room though, Porter scooped me up and I shrieked.
“Your knee!” I batted at his chest as he laughed.
“It’s fine.” He held me closer until I practically rolled into his chest, and would have if it weren’t for the volleyball belly I was sporting. “You are so fucking sassy.” He walked past the living room and down the hall of canvases. “Frickin’ hip swaying with those yoga pants.”
I buried my head into his chest and couldn't help but grin wide.
“Unintentional,” I said into his shirt.
“Yeah. Unintentional, my ass.”
I opened my mouth and pressed an open-mouth bite to his pec.
“So fucking sassy,” he mumbled above me and soon I was deposited on the bed. I smiled up at him as I crossed my ankles and threw my arms out to the sides.
“What are you going to do about it?”
“What am I going to do, she asks.” He shook his head and within seconds, his hand was behind his head, and he was pulling his shirt off. I had to bite on my upper lip to keep from saying anything.
From months of light therapy on his legs, he’d been more focused in the gym on his upper body and it certainly showed. His chest, shoulders, and arms, which had always been well-defined, were simply beautiful now, and I reveled in the feel of his arms around me.
There was nothing like the safety of being in someone’s arms, someone who loved and adored you the way I knew Porter did me.
I rolled my head on the pillow and continued to watch him as he stripped out of his jeans and briefs. When he stood up, his cock was up and begging for attention.
I sat up and swung my legs under me, moving to kneel at the edge of the bed.
“Asher…” Porter’s voice warned.
“Shh.” I reached for his hips but rather than step forward, he tried to step back.
“Asher.” His voice wasn’t warning this time. If I didn’t do something about it, he was going to put his clothes back on. I knew him that well.
“Just be quiet for a minute.” I palmed his thick length, wrapping my fingers around him and sliding my hand up to the head slowly, with the slightest twist motion of my hand.
I ran my thumb under the edge of the mushroomed tip, and tilted my face up to look at him. His jaw was clenched, the muscles in his cheeks tight and bulging, and his eyes were locked on me.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I know, beautiful.”
I took a deep breath. “I want to…”
“No.”
“Don’t you step away. I still have my hand on you,” I threatened.
“Asher, no. I don’t need you to—”
“I want to.” I did.
I wanted him in my mouth.
I wanted to feel his heaviness against my tongue. I wanted to taste his saltiness.
I wanted him to come undone the same way I did when his mouth was on me.
I was afraid of not doing it right though.
The one time, I didn’t have control over it. I let him take over. I didn’t—
“Not if your head’s somewhere else.”
The left side of my lips kicked up in a smile. He knew me too damn well.
“I’m here. I promise.”
“Fuck, Asher.” He tilted his head from side to side, and I knew this was hard for him to accept. So, without giving him any more time to contemplate, I pulled his cock toward my mouth as I brought my mouth forward.
And I sucked at his head gently.
“Fu-u-uck.” Porter’s moan echoed in the otherwise quiet room. I watched as his hands fisted at his sides.
I pulled back with a pop and tipped my head to the side, dropping low to suck at the very root of him. Timidly, I brought up my other hand to hold his sack. Rolling him gently in my palm, I licked up his length and brought him into my mouth again. I didn’t take him deep, I was scared the memories would take over if I did, but between my hand fondling him, my mouth sucking, and my tongue swirling, Porter seemed to enjoy what I was doing.
I could feel as wetness pooled into my panties. It would have been uncomfort
able if it weren’t for the knowledge that Porter wouldn’t leave me hanging.
Oh no, the man was an equal opportunist.
Porter lifted his hand and rested it on the back of my head and my mouth paused around him. When he didn’t make any movements to push my head down, or to forcefully thrust into my mouth, I continued what I’d been doing.
He combed his fingers down and through my hair, all while making tiny grunting noises above me. I dropped my tight fist down his length and, with my eyes closed, dared myself to take more of him into my mouth.
When he hit the back of my throat, I pulled back quickly and, with him still in my mouth, swallowed past the briefest moments of fear.
“Goddamn, Ash.” His hand fisted in my hair but again, he made no move to take more than I was willing to give him.
So, with a deep breath through my nose, I went down on him once more—not as far back but enough so that when I pulled back slowly, sucking hard, Porter was affected. I watched his thighs bunch in front of me and soon he was pulling my hair back.
“Okay, you’re done,”
“But—”
“Nope. You’re done. Sit against the headboard.”
I lifted my brows and nearly challenged him, just because I could, but ended up doing what I was told. He had to leave soon, and if he left me in this state…
I moved to the back of the bed, moving his pillow so it pressed into my lower back as Porter kneeled on the bed and tugged on my pants, pulling them down and off.
“You better turn those right-side out.”
“Asher…”
I grinned at his warning. I loved when he said my name in that tone, dragging it out in his sexy, gritty voice.
“Your shirt.”
I wasn’t one to give in so easily. I lifted my brows.
“You want to be done? Let me see your boobs.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, pulling my shirt up and over my head, tossing it to the side.
“You might want to turn that right-side out,” he teased, as he took my knees and spread them, settling between the two. Before I could give a decent comeback, Porter dragged his tongue up between my lower lips and the only thing coming out of my mouth was, “Oh, my God.”
He chuckled, the vibrations nearly sending me to the edge.
It had been so long. I was more than ready for this.
Porter reached for my hand and held it, while bringing his other near his mouth. I sucked in a gasp when his tongue dove into me, lapping at me, but it was when he moved up to suck at my clit, thrusting a thick finger into me, that I had to draw up my knees and tilt my hips closer to his greedy mouth.
My fingers tightened against his and I spread my other hand against the back of his head, holding him close. My hips slowly moved against his lazily moving lips, his finger sliding in and out, just as slow.
“Porter,” I whined. I needed to come.
I needed it badly.
So badly.
He pushed his finger in all the way and I could feel as he idly curled his finger forward and back. He lifted his head, his finger still playing, and he asked, “Would you kill me right now if I said I had to go?”
“Yes!”
He chuckled and pushed forward, kissing my belly twice before his mouth settled on mine. I moaned against him as he began a quicker dance below with his finger. I grabbed his head with both hands, holding him as his mouth devoured mine.
“Top?” Porter asked against my mouth.
I was so lost in what he was doing with his finger that I wasn’t sure what he was asking. “Huh?”
“Are you good?”
“I’m good.”
“Is this okay?”
“Yes, Porter.” It may have been the teensiest bit snippy, but that was only because I was right…there…
When he took his finger from me, I cried out.
Porter adjusted my hips and soon I was on the same page as him. In a swift, sure motion, he angled himself to me and soon we were one, him stretching me, filling me.
He fisted his hands beside my hips, holding himself off me as he leaned over my belly, and other than the quickest of pauses to assess my eyes, he began to quickly thrust into my heat. I rolled my head against the headboard, closing my eyes and biting my lip as his thrusts became quicker and shorter.
“I love you,” he panted out between grunts.
“I love you,” I whispered back, opening my eyes and locking in on his.
Still holding himself from me, he dropped his forehead to mine and, eye to eye, he watched me as his hips quickened, adding an extra swivel in there, just enough of a change to—
“Porter!” I arched my back as pleasure completely overtook me. My legs shook and I fought to straighten them, dragging my heels against the bed as I did so, but it caused the angle to change and quickly, I was thrown over another edge.
“Fuck, beautiful.” His hips were still pounding into me, the rhythm now erratic. He paused long enough to move us onto our sides and after pulling my leg over his hip, he began again.
I was still throbbing, squeezing against him, so with what energy I had left, I purposefully tightened around him and reached forward to play with his left nipple, my thumb sweeping over, then around it.
“Asher… Fuck, Asher. I’m…” His hand slid up my outer thigh until he had a handful of ass and, with a strong thrust, he pulled me impossibly close just as his cock jerked and he released into me.
His cry of pleasure was loud enough to have Caine barking in the living room, and I couldn’t help but laugh at this life we lived.
Then, even though he was breathing heavily and working on catching his breath, I took his face in my hands and kissed him good and well before telling him, “My doctor says no more sex next week.”
I pulled my head back from her kiss and stared down at my little minx. I still had my hand on her ass and I was itching to slap it. But ecstasy quickly turned to worry.
“Are you okay? You said you were okay.”
Asher, my beautiful, beautiful brat, just laughed, shaking her head. She rolled to her back and I had to stifle my groan as my dick slipped from her.
She put her hands on her belly and looked over at me. “I’m fine. The babies are fine. But because I had a decent bout of HG and because there are two, she wants to keep a closer eye on me. She doesn’t think I’m a super high-risk pregnancy, but—”
I pushed up to sit. “High-risk? What does that mean?” My heart began to pound behind my chest. That didn’t sound good. Why the hell was she laughing at me?
“I’m not high-risk, Porter. Not in a dangerous way. Listen to me.” She pushed up to sit and reached for my hand. “She just wants to play everything safe and I can’t really say I disagree with her. She gave me a cut-off day of twenty-five weeks. So, get your lovin’ in while you can.”
She was such a smartass.
But damn if I didn’t love her for it.
“So, you’re okay?”
“Yes, Porter. I’m okay.” Her tone was teasingly placid, but I would stop at nothing to be sure she remained okay, with me and with these babies.
We had been through too much already.
Still, though, I worried. And sometimes that worry led to morbid thoughts.
I hated that my ring wasn’t on her finger, and part of me struggled with when to ask her again. I knew she wasn’t going anywhere. I knew we were completely a team now; there were no doubts about that.
I worried about the babies.
I worried about the season.
I worried about the fact that even though Ace assured me at the beginning of the season there was talk about re-upping my contract, nothing had been mentioned in that last few months.
And then I worried about the babies again.
Two babies.
At the same time.
We were in so far over our heads, but there was no looking back now. We were in it, so what did it matter if I gave her back her ring now, or six months from now?
&
nbsp; I fought to calm my worries, and attempted to do it by going light with our conversation. “So, you’re giving me the green light to keep you awake all night?”
Her smile was quick and full. “Just go play hockey and we’ll discuss when you get home.”
Home.
Yes, home. This was home. She was home. These babies, they were home.
And tonight…tonight, I’d ask her again.
I leaned into kiss her gently, fighting to keep it light because I had to leave. “I love you, you know,” I said against her lips. I’d never tire of telling her. I pushed off the bed and started picking up clothes, putting Asher’s on the bed before stepping back into mine.
“Do you want me to pick up lunch?”
Asher just continued to lay there, all in her naked glory, as she watched me. “Sure. Nothing too heavy.”
I lifted a brow. “Your stomach—”
Asher laughed, the sound gleeful, and her belly and chest bounced with it. “Jesus, Porter. I’m fine.” She pushed up to sit, reaching for her pants. “God, I love you, but sometimes, Porter…”
I couldn’t help but worry about her. It was as deeply engrained in me as every other emotion I had for her, for my family. When her face twisted, I didn’t even take a moment to try and figure out what the look was. I dropped my shirt and forgot buttoning my jeans, moving to sit on the bed beside her.
“What is it?”
“You can… You should be able to…”
“What, Asher!” Her partial sentences were killing me. I reached for her face to try and read her, but suddenly she was smiling again, and I was about ready to die from the whiplash of emotions.
She grabbed my hand and pressed firmly into the side of her belly. “Wait for it.”
I frowned, but within seconds I felt it. The slightest of pushes from the inside.
“That’s not gas?” I asked, my eyes flying up to hers.
I could see that she wanted to laugh at me, but she just shook her head. “Nope. That’s Baby A.”
Now I grinned, trying to focus on what was going on inside Asher’s belly. Would I feel another? I put my other hand to the opposite side, hoping that maybe Baby B would want to be noticed too, but nothing happened.
“They need names.”
