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Page 55

by Joanna Blake


  Scratch that. The second best thing.

  Trista took my hand and grabbed the baby monitor.

  I followed her to the bedroom and undressed my beautiful wife.

  If we were lucky, maybe we’d get started on making another little miracle.

  I grinned.

  I was a lucky sonofabitch indeed.

  Five years later

  Chandler

  I tossed the ball to my son, watching him furrow his brow in concentration. He was trying too hard. Christopher always did that. And then he'd get a good handle on whatever skill he was trying to learn and ease up.

  He was type A, just like his mother.

  He threw the ball back. It was short, so I had to dive to catch it. I held up the ball triumphantly, only to see my son's face crumple into tears.

  "What's wrong 'Topher?"

  "Chelz is better at catch than me!"

  "Now son, we all have our talents. You are a pretty damn good dancer, aren't you?"

  Chelsea piped up from the swing set where she was watching us, patiently waiting her turn.

  "Don't say 'damn' daddy."

  "That's right Chelsea. Thank you. I mean 'darn' good dancer. Darn good."

  Beatrice snickered from the kitchen window where she was helping her mom set out some lemonade. Caro winked at me, setting out a plate of homemade cookies.

  She'd drawn the line at three kids, after we'd been surprised by twins less than a year after sweet baby Bea. Caro had sailed through it all beautifully, making it look easy wrangling three toddlers. But I knew it had taken a toll.

  We were both teachers though, so she had summers off. Dance school was hopping in the summer though, so I was still on duty. But it was my dance studio, so I set my own hours. I always made time for my wife and kids.

  Especially my beautiful wife.

  I loved being a dad. I kept hoping she'd reconsider and give me a few more… I couldn't help it. I loved making babies with her.

  "Give this to daddy."

  I turned my head to see Chelsea toddling over to me. They still had their baby fat and it was hard not to squeeze them non-stop. Caro said they needed their 'autonomy' though and not to baby them too much.

  So I had learned to talk to them like adults from the get go. No baby talk. We treated our kids with respect and they were polite as hell as a result.

  I held out my hand, looking at the little rectangular box my little girl had given me. The kids all crowded around and Caro came out on the porch to lean over the railing.

  "Open it daddy!"

  "Yeah, open it!"

  I glanced uncertainly at Caro, who was watching me with a secretive smile. It wasn't my birthday. It wasn't even Father's day.

  "Go on."

  I shrugged and opened the neatly wrapped package, handing the pretty pink bow to Chelsea. Inside was a plain white box. I opened it and my mind went blank.

  Information started to tick in slowly, falling together like a puzzle.

  It was a long slim piece of plastic.

  It had a small blue plus sign in a small window.

  It was a pregnancy test.

  It was a positive pregnancy test.

  It was a baby.

  We were having another baby.

  I looked at my beautiful wife, smiling at me with tears in her eyes. I felt my cheeks get wet and realized I was crying too.

  Damn, my woman had made me soft.

  But as I ran to the deck and pulled her into my arms, I acknowledged that I didn't give a damn if I was soft inside. I got to be with her. I'd be happy to turn into a full-blown marshmallow man, considering the rewards.

  I glanced at Caro. She was glowing like she had with the twins. I squeezed her into my chest. I looked at our three children who still didn't get it yet. They didn't get how lucky we all were.

  They were about to have a little brother or sister to look after.

  Heck, knowing us, maybe they were going to get both.

  Trent

  The pool area and lanai were ready. There were twinkling star shaped string lights and balloons everywhere. We'd gone wild with pool floats and little waterproof solar lights that skimmed on the surface of the water, casting a soft glow.

  Guests were just starting to arrive at our home in Los Angeles.

  They brought gifts and cards and, of course, the other kids from the program. It was a big day in our household.

  Char was graduating.

  She'd done so well in the Take Two program and we were so proud. She'd gone to learn a trade at a school for disabled adults. And she'd excelled in the horticultural department.

  Char seemed to have a knack for growing things. In fact, we'd hired her as our gardener on the spot. A few other neighbors had too.

  Her mood swings were much better too.

  "Daddy!"

  I turned, scooping up our little girl Pheobe. We'd let Char name her and she'd chosen the name. Apparently it was the name of their childhood dog. A scruffy little terrier of some sort.

  Lexi and I were still not sure if we were ever going to come clean on that little detail, though it made us laugh our asses off in private.

  "Pheebs, are you ready for the party?"

  She nodded. I could see a smudge of chocolate around her mouth. I chucked her chin.

  "Did you get into the cake early?"

  She shook her head, curls flying.

  "No daddy, mommy made me my own cake. It was this big!"

  She held her pudgy little hands up, mimicing the size of a small cake. I grinned, looking over her shoulder at her mother. Lexi had come out of the house, carrying a tray.

  "You shouldn't be doing that."

  She waved me off, and sat down.

  "It's light. I'm fine."

  I frowned, setting our girl down. I walked behind my wife, lightly rubbing her shoulders. She leaned back against me and rubbed her belly.

  After all this time, we were expecting number two.

  She'd said 'one and done' but I'd convinced her otherwise. I wanted a big family. All of them looking like her.

  She'd changed her mind one night when our daughter was three. It was just after Christmas and Pheobe had wanted to go up to bed by herself. Lexi had started crying, not ready for her little girl to grow up yet.

  That night, we'd started trying to make number two.

  Except things hadn't gone as planned. The first child had been unexpected. Easy. But the second, we had to work for. Endless doctors appointments. We were fine, but the eggs just weren't catching. We'd opted for IVF in the end.

  And any day now we were going to reap the rewards of those long two years. In fact, she was due in two weeks. I tried to spoil her but she made it hard.

  My woman was independent as hell. Hard working too. I was tempted to tie her up now and then to keep her still.

  Hell, I did tie her up once in a while.

  I leaned down to kiss her.

  "I love you, little mama."

  She smiled up at me, a twinkle in her eye.

  "I love you, big papa."

  I threw back my head and laughed.

  Joss

  "You guys- please! Let's just all calm down."

  I was surrounded. Outnumbered and outgunned. It was time to surrender.

  I sank down and tried to grab the two redheaded wild things running in circles around me. Normally they were behaved. But right now it was just daddy on duty. I was a pushover with them. I was 'good cop' and they knew it.

  And the little hellions were taking advantage of it.

  "Lila! Billy! I will tell your mother if you don't sit down!"

  Just like that, they sat.

  I exhaled, running my hand through my hair. I wasn't sure I would tell their mother. Because I knew she would laugh at me.

  Trista was recording in the studio I'd built her out back. It was what used to be a barn on the small Sag Harbor farm we'd bought.

  We'd fallen in love with the town when we were traveling on her first tour as a s
inger songwriter. She'd chosen only small, storied venues where she brought nothing but her guitar and a mic.

  No more pop star bullshit for my woman. She was being herself now. Relaxed and lyrical and emotional. And receiving critical acclaim for it.

  We'd settled down all right. Twice. We had one house on each coast. Not that we lived high on the hog. Trista liked to keep things simple these days.

  We'd kept my place on the West coast and fixed this place up over the past few years. It was a labor of love, just like everything else we did. Her music, our children, even my security firm.

  I still ran it. I just didn't like to go out on the road too often. I much preferred looking after my wife, formerly the most famous pop star in the world. Now she didn't sell out arenas, but she was winning awards and getting five star reviews.

  She'd turned out to be a damn fine songwriter. Not that I was surprised. My love was good at everything. Even sneaking up on people apparently.

  She was standing right behind me.

  "What on Earth is going on here?"

  She had her hands on her slender hips and a mock frown on her face. The children giggled and hid behind me. I pretended to cower.

  "We were playing and we made an oops?"

  Toys were scattered all over the living room rug. She raised an eyebrow and waited. Without a word the kids scrambled and the toys were put away in two shakes.

  The kids stared at her expectantly, clearly hoping for a sign of approval.

  Come to think of it, I was too.

  "Who wants some homemade ice cream?"

  The kids threw themselves at their mother screaming 'I do. I do!'. I pulled the whole passel of them into my arms and kissed her cheek.

  "I do, too."

  She kissed my cheek and whispered into my ear.

  "Don't worry Joss. I have something extra sweet just for you."

  Player

  Joanna Blake

  “Yo’ Fitz! Your turn man.”

  I looked up to see Kyle grinning stupidly as the stripper finished grinding on him. The song was ending and Kyle had his hands all over the dancer’s generous ass. The girl, Crystal something or other, was only wearing a G-string. Her tanned skin gleamed in the dim light.

  I drank deeply from my twenty-dollar beer. Thankfully drinks were free for the team. As were the lap dances. And anything else that might arise.

  Players frequently went home with the dancers from the club. I had myself more than once. The girls were severely hot and more than accommodating. Not to mention flexible.

  I shook my head. To be honest, I felt kind of disgusting the last time I woke up next to a girl whose makeup was smeared all over the pillow case. And the sheets. And my cock. When I was drunk, then yeah, I didn’t mind so much. But after…

  Lately all the girls I boned made me feel that way. The strippers, the groupies, the co-eds. I’d even picked up a housewife at a bar just a week ago. Well, to be honest. She’d picked me up.

  But something about it was leaving me unsatisfied.

  More than unsatisfied.

  I felt fucking dirty.

  If I was honest, I preferred the natural look. Like that gorgeous brunette in my economy class. She might be a freshman, but she had all the right equipment. Huge green eyes, a cute nose, gorgeous lips, and the best tits I’d seen in my entire life.

  My God those tits could stop traffic. Not to mention her legs were about a mile long. They’d look nice wrapped around me as I drove in and out of her sweet little box.

  I adjusted my junk. I was hard just thinking about it.

  The dancer walked towards me with a question in her eyes.

  “I’ll pass.”

  I wasn’t drunk enough to enjoy this tonight. Even after winning yet another game. I should be riding high but instead I just wanted to be alone.

  The thing was, I was hardly fucking ever alone.

  My teammates, the fans, girls. I was the center of attention. Non-stop.

  Growing up, I’d had the opposite problem. My mom had worked two jobs. Sometimes three. And we’d still been dirt poor.

  Fuck, poorer than that.

  Mud poor.

  If you’d ever seen the neighborhood I grew up in, it was probably on the news. Some reporter talking about crime rates. Or how depressed the south side of Chicago was. And how everyone who lived there was either a vandal or a hoodlum.

  Or both.

  I’d like to say that I hadn’t been one of those criminals but that would be a lie. I’d jacked car stereos, bikes, anything. The only thing that had saved me from ending up in prison was football.

  The Sport of Kings.

  Look at me now. I was the top of the heap. The King of Kings.

  And I was still fucking covered in mud.

  Go Long

  Joanna Blake

  “How do you like our campus so far Kyle?”

  Kyle smiled benignly at my mother. He looked as innocent as a choirboy. Meanwhile, under the table his foot was brushing mine. I wasn’t sure if it was deliberate until he did it again. I scowled at him as he oozed charm and good will. All false of course.

  I wasn’t fooled.

  “It’s the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. And the students have been… very friendly.”

  He grinned at me pointedly and popped a bite of food into his mouth. He made it clear he was talking about me as his foot caressed mine again. I kicked him and he nearly choked. I smiled serenely as my father pounded his back.

  Kyle glared at me as he wiped his mouth.

  I gave him a look that clearly said ‘two can play at that game.’

  “Thank you Coach.”

  “Make sure you chew your food, boy. Can’t lose you before the season starts!”

  I put my chin on my hand and smiled sweetly. I knew more about sports than most men. But Kyle didn’t know that. I intended to milk it.

  “Daddy, isn’t it unusual to put a walk-on on the team?”

  “Hardly ever happens at this level. But Kyle here is an unusual young man.”

  “He is?”

  “He’s unnaturally talented on the field Bellie. His military training had a lot to do with it, but some people are just naturals.”

  “Bellie?”

  Kyle’s eyes were glowing mischievously. I could have screamed. My plan to control the conversation had completely backfired. If he started calling me ‘Bellie’ I would lose it. I really would.

  “That’s what we call our little girl. Did you know they actually pay her to attend school? She had a full ride of course, but they actually give her a stipend and all sorts of administrative jobs for extra money. She has career academic written all over her.”

  I groaned inwardly. Did he have to make me sound like a cross between a 12 year-old and a grandma? That’s what I was really. Kyle was right when he called me Miss Priss. Just a little girl who acted like the biggest, most responsible, boring goodie two-shoes ever to walk the face of the-

  Kyle was staring at my breasts. Not just staring either. He licked his lips and made an appreciative grimace. Like he couldn’t stand being this close to me and not touching me.

  I coughed, nearly spitting out my mashed potatoes.

  He was touching me with his eyes. It was practically foreplay! I tried to ignore him but it was too late. A hot pool of lust had settled in my belly. I crossed my arms, realizing my nipples were hard. I jumped up, knocking over my glass of iced tea.

  Thankfully it was almost empty.

  “Bellie! Are you alright?”

  “Just- chilly. I want to grab a sweater.”

  “Alright but come right back and we can clear the table.”

  “Yes, mom.”

  I practically ran from the room. I could feel Kyle’s eyes boring into my back. I heard him ask where the restroom was and excuse himself.

  Argh!!! He was following me!

  I ran for my bedroom and started to slam the door but he caught it with the flat of his hand.

  “Where are you run
ning to… Bellie?”

  He was grinning at me like the cat that ate the canary. I had the sudden urge to smack the smug look off his handsome face. His eyes slid over my body, even more blatantly than before. I grabbed a light cardigan, angrily pulling it over my arms. I buttoned the center of it.

  “Don’t call me that!”

  He just shook his head, leaning against my doorframe.

  “Why not? You know I can still see those perfect tits of your, Bellie. Your nipples are practically poking a hole through that sweater.”

  I gasped.

  “My father will hear you!”

  He grinned.

  “No. He won’t.”

  He stepped into my room and I stepped backwards until my back was against the wall. He loomed over me, saying nothing.

  Then he ran his hands over my shoulders, deliberately brushing my breasts with his forearms.

  “Did I do that to you, Miss Priss?”

  I opened my mouth but no words came out. He was making me confused dammit! And he had done this to me… without even touching me, I was aroused like never before.

  Well, like only once before anyway.

  “Meet me tomorrow after practice at my dorm. Unless you want me to tell him what you’ve been up to.”

  I glared at him.

  “Blackmail? Really?”

  He nodded slowly.

  “I will stoop to anything to get what I want, Bellie. What we both want.”

  I inhaled sharply as he leaned forward, his lips brushing my ear. I closed my eyes, feeling my heart thud in my chest. My whole body felt alive. I could feel the heat rolling off him. The strength. I could smell that clean manly scent… images of our night together flooded my mind against my will. I whimpered, ready to fall into his arms. All he had to do was kiss me.

  But he didn’t. He just breathed four soft words against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. At that moment, even my goosebumps had goosebumps.

  “And I want you.”

  When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

  Bound To Me

 

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