Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set

by Lashell Collins

  “Oh, Joshua,” she moans as I travel back up her body with soft kisses. A moment later I'm deep inside her, moving at a steady, pounding rhythm as she writhes and moves with me, meeting me thrust for thrust. Her legs wrap around me tightly and I increase my pace, angling my hips and delving deeper into her. She moans loudly as her body trembles uncontrollably and her orgasm takes over, pulling me along with it, and I come magnificently, deep inside her.

  “Ah, baby!”

  I lay panting on top of her for a moment, savoring the feeling of being inside her. Finally I raise up and look into her eyes. “You are so damn beautiful, Sam.”

  “Mmm, you say that to all the girls,” she purrs softly, and I smile.

  “Only the ones who marry me and have my babies,” I tell her. “Speaking of which … is he okay?” I ask, placing my hand on her her small baby bump.

  “Yes, she is just fine.”

  “He.” I repeat sternly.

  “She.” I can't help laughing at the determination in her eyes. But as I do, her expression turns serious. “Why do you want another boy so badly?” she asks me.

  “Baby, come on. You know I'm just joking,” I answer as I gently pull out of her. “I will be happy either way; I just want him or her to be healthy.”

  “But if you could choose, you'd want another boy. Why?” she asked.

  “Honestly?” I quietly ask her, and she nods at me. “Because I already know that Livvie's gonna break my heart, over and over again. I've known it from the day we brought them home from the hospital.”

  “What do you mean?” Sam asks, frowning at me.

  I sit up and lean back against the pillows, and Sam follows. “I mean exactly what I said. She's going to break my heart. With Leo, it's different,” I say quietly, looking up to meet her gaze. “He's like my little shadow. He's my buddy, you know? My playmate.”

  “You play with Livvie, Princess Daddy,” Sam teases. And I laugh at the dress-up reference, but I know that she's still not understanding what I'm trying to say.

  “Yes, I play with Livvie. And nobody wears a pink, plastic tiara better than I do,” I point out with a straight face, and she giggles at me. “But that's not what I meant when I called Leo my playmate. It's like … Leo and I already have this bond that I never had with my old man. And I know this sounds silly because he's only three and half years old, but I swear … me and that kid have some of the best conversations in the world!” She's laughing at me, and I can't help but laugh too. “I can't wait to teach him stuff and do things with him. Even now when we hang out on our special days … that kid is going to be my very best friend, and I already know that. But Livvie …” My voice trails off as I think about it, suddenly getting emotional. And I feel Sam's hand on my arm.

  “Josh,” she says softly.

  I take a deep breath and sigh. “The first time she thinks she's too big to hold my hand when we cross a street,” I say quietly. “The first time she doesn't want to be seen with her dad because it's not cool. Or when she starts talking about boys and wanting to go on dates. Each and every one of those things is going to be like a little milestone for her, but for me … it is going to break my heart, baby. Each and every time. It already hurts just thinking about it. She may be Daddy's little girl right now, but that's going to change as she gets older. And this might sound selfish, but I don't want to go through that twice. Two daughters would be the death of me.”

  Sam smiles at me, shaking her head. “You are in love with that little girl,” she says softly.

  “Is it that obvious?” I smirk. “I mean, it's like you and your dad. Don't you think it killed him when you decided that you were too old for your father/daughter dates when you were a teenager? I bet it did.”

  “Joshua, don't you realize that you are always going to be Livvie's first love? No matter what boy comes along; no matter what man she ends up marrying. You are the first man that she is ever going to fall in love with. The man that she is going to measure all others against as she gets older.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?”

  “I know that for a fact because I was Daddy's little girl too. I still am, even though he's gone. I know how it works. So trust me when I say that that little girl will always be in love with you. You will always be her hero.” She's silent for a long minute as she watches me, then she lightly caresses my face. “If this baby is a girl, Josh, you will fall every bit as much in love with her as you are with Livvie. And you will learn to deal with it. But … if you want to wish for a boy, that's okay too,” she smiled.

  “Can we ask about the sex when we see the doctor this week?” I ask quietly. Please say yes, please say yes. With the twins, she decided she didn't want to know, but a little knowledge this time around would go a long way toward easing my anxiety.

  She's quiet as she studies my eyes. Then she smiles at me. “Yes, we can ask if you want to. I just don't want you to be too disappointed if it's a girl.”

  I smile as I lean in and kiss her lips. “I won't be disappointed. But at least my heart will know to get ready for the rocky ride.” She smiles at me as I kiss her again, deeply this time, letting my tongue explore hers. She moans softly as we kiss and my hands begin to roam over her silky soft skin, feeling their way as I touch her and caress her. I love making love to her. And I'm just about to enter her again when we suddenly hear singing over the baby monitor in the nursery.

  Leo and Livvie sing together a lot, often bursting into song at the same time as if they had some sort of telepathic link going on. Tiny, three-year-old voices loudly singing unidentifiable words. It is extremely cute, and it instantly deflates my mood, so to speak. I sigh heavily as Sam laughs.

  “Oh, you think this is funny?” I smile at her, and she giggles uncontrollably. “What is that?”

  We're quiet for a moment as we listen to our twins sing with small frowns on our faces. “I think it's 'Head First,'” Sam says softly.

  “Head First?” I ask with a shocked tone. “That's not exactly appropriate subject matter for three year olds! What the hell happened to Jingle Bells?”

  “Well, don't look at me,” Sam exclaims. “You're the one always blasting Aerosmith around here!”

  I laugh as I kiss her neck and climb, reluctantly, out of bed. Time to get up and get started. I pull on a pair of pajama pants as I walk across the large room to open the door as Sam gets up and heads for the bathroom. This is our normal morning routine. Sam will shower and dress first while I gather the munchkins and get them moving. This used to be a fairly easy task when they were smaller and didn't talk much. But now they're tiny communicating humans with strong opinions, this morning activity has become a small challenge for me. Especially since Livvie would prefer to wear one of her princess dresses and a feather boa to preschool every day. Arguing with a three-year-old diva over fashion is not a great way to start the day off. It takes a little finesse, and my specialty on the force was never hostage negotiations. But once I've got them bathed and dressed I heard them both down to the kitchen to start the breakfast process. And by the time Sam makes it downstairs, usually wearing a robe over top of her clothes to protect her outfit, I have the kids strapped into their booster seats at the table.

  When she relieves me this morning I give her a quick kiss on the lips before I run up and take my turn in the shower. I dress as quickly as I can, pulling on my navy blue dress pants and a crisp white dress shirt. A blue striped tie finishes the look and I smirk at myself in the full length mirror in our connected walk-in closets. Work clothes for me used to mean nice jeans and a dress shirt. I've been in this new position for the better part of a year now and I'm still not totally used to wearing a tie to work every day. But other than feeling required to dress better, I have to admit that I'm enjoying the job, and Lee says that it suits me.

  I gather my shoulder holster and my navy blazer, then retrieve my gun and its magazine from the locked drawer of my nightstand, and I'm ready. I head back down to the kitchen where the action is, and
as I descend the back staircase, I can hear the morning chatter going on and it makes me smile. The twins have finished with their breakfast and have now moved on to playtime, which means more singing as they skip off to the family room. Sam sits a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon in front of me, and as I eat and she sips a cup of coffee we chat for several minutes about when we'll finishing up our Christmas shopping, seeing as it is just over a week away.

  “Mine! Mine!” The screaming has been going on for a good minute and a half now and Sam and I give each other the 'your turn' look. Usually, Leo and Livvie get along like peanut butter and jelly. Best friends and partners in crime. But occasionally they fight, and when they do, it's loud.

  I take a deep breath, preparing to walk into the family room to stop the commotion, but before I can, Livvie comes running into the kitchen, wearing Leo's little police hat and carrying his stuffed toy police cruiser. The one he sleeps with all the time. His security blanket. Her brother is hot on her heels, still screaming.

  “Mine!”

  I bend down and catch her as she attempts to run past. “Livvie, what have Mommy and I said about taking things that don't belong to you? Give your brother his things back, please.”

  “But I'm da pweece, Daddy,” she explains, looking at me innocently. And I try really hard not to smile.

  “You're the police?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No! I'm da pweece,” Leo argues as the tears roll down his little cheeks.

  “I want be da pweece too,” she pouts.

  “Okay, I'll tell you what,” I say, bargaining with my daughter. “You give your brother back his things and apologize to him, and Daddy will bring you a stuffed police cruiser of your own. Alright?”

  “Kay.” She relinquishes Leo's toys to him. “Sowwy, Weo.”

  Leo clutches his cruiser with a death grip, holding it as far away from her as he can. But he hands her back the police hat saying softly, “You can pway wif it.” She smiles at him and puts the hat back on her head, then turns and skips away.

  I turn to Leo with an impressed grin. “That was a very nice thing to do, champ. I'm proud of you,” I say, offering him my fist to pound. He smiles broadly as his little fist hits mine, tears forgotten. He runs off and I stand, smiling at Sam. “Crisis averted.”

  She rolls her eyes at me. “This is so unfair. What happened to her wanting to be an artist? They can't both want to be the police.”

  “Baby, they're three. Odds are, neither one of them will grow up to be cops,” I tell her as I pull her into my arms. “But maybe this one will follow in your footsteps and be an artist. Maybe you'll give birth to one of the greatest artists of the twenty first century!”

  “Mmm, I like the sound of that,” she coos as she snuggles into my arms. “The next Van Gogh or Michelangelo.”

  I smile at her as I lean in to plant light kisses on her neck. And my arms tighten around her waist, pulling her closer to me. My lips find hers as I hold her close and my hands roam down over her backside, caressing and lightly squeezing her ass through her gray plaid skirt. She moans softly as we kiss, prompting my tongue to linger, tasting her as I drink her in. I could do this all day long, but I know that we both have a very full day of work ahead of us, and I reluctantly pull away.

  “We gotta stop and get going,” I whisper.

  “Okay. But promise me you'll remember where we left off when you get home this evening,” she says softly, and I smile at her.

  “Baby, I can promise you I will be thinking about it all day long,” I tell her as I stare into her bright green eyes. I kiss her swiftly once more. “Okay, I gotta go,” I repeat as I lightly swat her backside.

  “Yeah, we've gotta get a move on too,” she says. “I have a million things to do today.”

  I let go of her and reach for my shoulder holster, and I'm putting it on as Sam calls for the twins, and gathers their coats from the mudroom. As I'm loading the magazine into my Sig Sauer, Livvie comes running back into the kitchen carrying my iPad.

  “Daddy! Daddy! I maked pitcher for you!”

  “You made a picture for me?” I holster my gun and look down to see that she has indeed drawn all over my iPad with bright fluorescent markers. Again! “Oh, Livvie!” My voice is full of frustration as she holds the tablet up for me. I take it from her little hands as I kneel down to her level.

  “It you and me,” she smiles at me. “Wit da Cwismas twee. Wike it?”

  It is almost impossible for me to be angry with her when she looks at me with those big blue eyes of hers. “It's a very pretty picture, honey. But remember that you're not supposed to draw on Daddy's iPad anymore? You're only supposed to draw on paper, Livvie. That way we can put your pretty pictures on the wall, just like Mommy's,” I tell her, trying very hard to keep the frustration out of my voice.

  “Not for the wall, Daddy. For you,” she says sadly, pouting at me. Her little lip starts to tremble when she realizes I'm not happy. And I feel my heart constrict. “Wike it?” she asks again.

  I can feel the frustration flowing out of me like a river as I smile at her. “I like it very much, pumpkin,” I say softly. “Is that you and me standing by the Christmas tree?” She nods, smiling at me.

  “Da twee in da mall.”

  “Oh, the Christmas tree at the mall. Where we made the ballerina teddy bear on Saturday?” I ask her, referring to our daddy date this past weekend at the Build-A-Bear store.

  “Yeah.”

  “Is that the teddy bear right there,” I ask her, pointing to her masterpiece. She nods again as she throws her little arms around my neck and gives me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Okay. Let's get your coat on,” I say as Sam hands me her little winter coat.

  Samantha smirks at me as we usher the kids through the mudroom, and I feel self-conscious for some reason. “How come she never draws on your iPad?” I whisper.

  “Because I'm not you,” she says softly, a sassy smile on her sweet lips. “It's like I told you earlier, Lieutenant. She is in love with her daddy. And she always will be.”

  I can't help the goofy grin on my face at her words, and we both know that our little girl has me wrapped around her pinky.

  “I'm seeing a new iPad in your future,” Sam smiles, knowing that I'll be reluctant to remove Livvie's work of art from my screen. And all I can do is shake my head in response.

  Once in the garage and I help Sam strap the kids into their carseats in the back of our Porsche SUV.

  “You drive safe,” I tell her, lightly kissing her lips once more. “I'll see you this evening.”

  I get into my truck as Samantha pulls slowly out of the garage and down the driveway. And I find myself really wishing the weather was better in December so that I could take my baby out for a spin – my 1968 Dodge Charger R/T. I always miss her during the winter, but there's no way I'm taking her out in this mess. Her or any of my other toys. And I smile to myself at that thought. I never intended to become a collector. And I sure as hell never thought that I would spend Samantha's money so frivolously. I suppose if Sam hadn't done what she did, I never would have. I shake my head as my mind drifts back over that memory…

  *

  The conversation is lively and boisterous, everyone seeming to be in a good mood tonight. I smile as I look around the table at Samantha's family. If anyone had told me a year ago when Sam and I first got together that I would end up feeling this comfortable in the midst of this family of billionaires, I would've said they were full of shit. Maybe it helps that it's only the Colby kids here and not the parents. I'm sure it would be a totally different vibe if Lois Colby were here. But these family gatherings are always laid back, casual and fun.

  And I wonder if that was Lucas' intention when he first set up these little monthly dinners with Sam, Megan and Dennis. He said that he was inspired to do it after hearing Sam and I talk about Sunday dinners at my mom's each week, and I thought that was kind of cool. I also appreciate the fact that he's not trying to force the relationship between
Sam and their mom. They took a big step toward one another again at our wedding, but if it's going to become the close relationship they both want it to be, it's going to have to develop organically, without any pushing from others.

  “So, Josh,” Dennis says from his seat across the table from me. “How'd you like to go to a Barrett-Jackson auction with me next month?”

  I freeze – fork in the air, mouth open – and stare at him in disbelief. Is he kidding? Slowly I set my fork back down as I study him. “A Barrett-Jackson auction?”

  “Yeah. Dad was going to go with me but, he has to go to Tokyo on business that weekend and he can't get out of it. And since Dad will be in Tokyo, this one over here has to mind the store,” he says, gesturing toward Lucas. “Not that he'd be any fun to go with anyway because he wouldn't stop working the entire time.”

  “You know, I can hear you,” Lucas says, smiling.

  “I meant for you to,” Dennis replies with a good-natured smile. Then he looks back at me and shrugs his shoulders. “I'm going regardless because I've got my eye on a rare Lotus that's up for sale. But I really didn't want to go alone, and I thought it'd be fun to go with you 'cause you would really appreciate being there.”

  I smile at him. Over the last several months, Dennis and I have sort of bonded over the whole car thing. We've even taking to calling each other on the phone so we can talk while we're watching the motorsports channels on TV. Sam always teases us, asking if I want to invite Dennis over so we can braid each other's hair while we watch TV. “Wow. Um, thanks for thinking of me. But … I don't know.”

  “No, you should go, Josh,” Lucas says, smiling at me. “You'd have a great time. It's something every gearhead should see in person at least once.”

  “Oh, I'm sure it's amazing, but I imagine if you're not buying it's probably a pretty frustrating exercise. And we all know I don't have that kind of money,” I say smiling at them.

  Samantha suddenly turns to me with a puzzled expression. “You do have that kind of money,” she says frowning at me.