by Aiden Bates
RIVERA: [six-second pause] That—that feels good.
BERKIN: Here’s part of another: “Raff sat beside me all night, held back my hair as I vomited, and placed cool cloths on my head. I couldn’t have done it without him.”
RIVERA: I remember that. I still say that she was the one who did all the work.
BERKIN: One more: “I simply would not be alive today without Raff Rivera.”
RIVERA: I . . . I don’t know what to say. I’m glad that person is alive. I’m glad I could help.
BERKIN: You’re very humble for someone they call the Brooklyn Beefcake. [laughter] Chris, is there anything you’d like to tell us about Raff?
CHAMBERS: Just that he is strength and compassion personified. Everyone who gets to know him sees that. And if the paparazzi could leave us alone, that would be great, because we are about to be very busy.
BERKIN: That’s right. When is your baby due?
CHAMBERS: My due date is March first. But it’s not just one baby. We’re having twins.
BERKIN: Raff, I take it by your expression that this is a surprise?
RAFF: [nods and hugs Chambers]
BERKIN: What a beautiful way to end one of my favorite interviews. That was Rafael “Raff” Rivera.
Chapter Twenty
“Two babies! Two babies!”
Elizabeth was thrilled with the news, spoke to the twins and sang to them, and was very interested in what those two babies were doing inside her daddy’s tummy.
Chris found 3D ultrasound photos online that showed twin fetuses curled up together, looking like they were hugging or kissing or snuggling. When the babies moved in Chris’s belly, he put Elizabeth’s hand on his stomach and told her that they were playing.
“She’s going to be very disappointed when they come out and can’t do any of those things with her, you know,” Raff said later. He was wrapping Christmas gifts.
“Do you think so? Maybe I’ll look for a book on babies for her.”
“That would make a nice Christmas gift. Spoil her this year. We’ll have money for nothing but diapers soon.”
That wasn’t quite the truth, but Raff was caught off guard by the announcement during their interview with Beverly Berkin. He was happy—overjoyed, really, as he always wanted a big family—but worried.
After the interview, they came home and called all their family and friends to tell them the excited news. Double trouble!
“I knew it!” said Chris’s sister.
Christmas was simple and beautiful; a celebration of family with family. Elizabeth’s eyes were huge when she spotted the mound of gifts and she tore into them like a tornado, tossing baby dolls and teddy bears and soccer balls and toy cars around the room as she went. Caroline and Mr. and Mrs. Chambers bought things for the twins, even though Chris requested that they not: onesies, toys and tiny designer shoes that no doubt cost way too much money.
In the days before the holiday, Raff was caught a few times on the street by photographers who happened upon him shopping. He was no longer front page news, but it was still frequent enough to be disconcerting. The interview was scheduled to air in the beginning of February. It wouldn’t stop the press—in fact, it would probably increase the frequency of the episodes for a while—but at least Raff would feel good about the notoriety for a change.
After Elizabeth was tucked into bed on Christmas night, in new pajamas, clutching a new doll, the two men sat down to catch their breath.
“Your parents are insane, darlin’,” Raff said. “I swear they try to get Bizzy hyper before sending her home.”
“I know, I know. Next time, I’ll tell them only one dessert.”
“Oh, it’s okay. Christmas only comes once a year.”
“Speaking of Christmas, I have another gift for you.” He pulled a small box from under the coffee table.
Raff tried to protest, since he already had a lovely set of leather saddlebags for his Harley, but Chris pushed it into his hand.
“Just open it.”
Inside was a small frame, and inside the frame was a 3D photo.
“These—these are our babies?”
“That’s them. Our boys.”
“Wow,” Raff breathed. He could see every line on the little ones’ faces; every nail on their fingers. One had his brow furrowed in a frown, and the other was sucking his thumb. Their legs were tangled together. “They’re perfect.”
“They are. Very healthy. Big, for twins. So that’s going to be fun,” Chris joked dryly.
“You are a superstar omega,” Raff said, leaning over to gently kiss his husband’s huge belly. “You can do it. I believe in you.”
Chapter Twenty-one
The interview aired and things went a little crazy once again.
Camera flashes with every turn. Phone calls and messages, and not just from little papers and local news, but big shows that wanted to try to top Beverly’s interview. Friends from New York and Stellar called and texted to say that they saw them on television. Old rehab patients emailed their own thank-you notes. And new headings in the paper: “Saint Sexy”, “Beefcake Baby-Daddy”, and “Sober Sweetheart” were three that Raff found particularly annoying.
Strangers stopped them in the street to ask for selfies with Raff, or to get him to sign slips of paper. Raff was much more patient with the everyday Joes; after all, any of them could be struggling with addiction.
“If I can help, I should. Maybe they just need a kind word or a smile,” Raff told Chris, after the third selfie request of the morning.
“Yeah, or maybe they just want to press themselves up against the hottest alpha this side of the Atlantic. I can’t say I blame them.” Chris found it all rather exciting.
. . . and arousing. The end of his pregnancy was nearing, and the hormones were raging. He was horny all the time at the end of his first pregnancy too, but something about strangers gawking at his husband made him one-hundred-percent more so.
There were days when Chris felt ungainly and fat, and there were days when he felt lush and plump like a piece of ripe fruit that begged to be squeezed.
Today was one of those days.
After shopping for groceries all morning, Elizabeth was down for a nap and Raff was browsing through his collection of cookbooks, looking for something to make for dinner.
Chris stood close and brushed his lips against Raff’s ear before whispering the dirty things that he wanted his husband to do to him.
Raff growled low in his throat, “I thought you’d never ask,” and pulled Chris roughly to him, his mouth capturing the omega’s quickly.
It was one of the many things that Chris loved about his alpha; that he was so easily turned on and ready to go with just a moment’s notice. It made Chris feel alluring and powerful. He could get Raff hard and ready with just a few words.
“Wait . . . wait . . . the bedroom,” Chris said.
Raff shook his head no; a deliciously evil glint in his eye. “Nuh uh. I need you here, now.”
“It’s so bright.” The midday sun streamed through the large windows of the kitchen.
“I know. I love fucking you in the sunlight. So I can see every inch of you.”
Raff’s tongue hungrily explored Chris’s mouth again, as if seeking nourishment that he’d been starving for. Chris started to unbutton Raff’s shirt, feeling those smooth, shapely pecs that never failed to excite him, teasing his nipples into hard little points that begged to be suckled. The moan that Raff gave into Chris’s mouth indicated how much he loved it.
Raff’s hands slid around Chris’s plush body, gripping him in the fleshier places where his skin was soft and pliant—his hips, his ass, even his arms had taken on a seductive roundness.
“God, I love your body when you’re pregnant. So fucking hot.”
He used to say the same thing during the first pregnancy, and it made Chris’s heart soar every damn time.
As Raff pressed into him, Chris could tell it was true. His arousal was very apparent. Hi
s hands slipped down to the small of Chris’s back and into the back of his pants, tracing the top of the globes of his ass and the cleft.
Chris gasped; his body was alive and throbbing with every touch.
Raff dropped to his knees in front of Chris and nuzzled his face against his pants, finding his hard cock with his nose and playfully nipping at it. He looked up into Chris’s eyes as he began to undo his pants, and then pulled down the elastic waistband of his briefs until he revealed the erect shaft nestled in its tidy patch of hair. Raff growled again and began to kiss and lick the length of it.
Chris ran his hands through Raff’s thick curls and whispered, “Yes, please, I need your mouth on my cock.”
“Fuck my mouth, omega,” Raff commanded him and, when Raff finally took the head into his mouth and began to suck, Chris whimpered and did as he was told, pushing into the wet, velvety place until the head of his dick touched the back of Raff’s throat.
Raff grabbed Chris’s ass, so soft and full now; gripped it, as if to push Chris into his mouth from behind.
Raff was unbelievably good at giving head.
The sensation of his engorged cock sliding into that slick, willing hole over and over was almost too much for Chris to bear.
When Raff’s lips drew close to Chris’s groin, his tongue reached out to lap at his sack.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. So good. “Raff . . . I don’t know how long I can go like this.”
Before Chris finished the sentence, Raff pulled his mouth off of Chris’s dick. “Not yet, darlin’. Not yet.” He reached behind the omega for a bottle of olive oil. “Take off your shirt and turn around.”
Chris obeyed and Raff pushed him down lightly so that he was bent over, his head and chest against the counter. Soon Chris felt a trickle on his back; the olive oil, which Raff was drizzling on him. It was so decadent. Raff only bought the most expensive imported oil, and now he was spilling it across his lover’s body. Chris could feel it dripping down his sides, sliding down his spine, and slipping down the crack of his ass.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Raff said, his voice filled with awe. He started to massage Chris’s back, kissing it in between strokes, and his lover could hear him licking his lips every few seconds. “Beautiful and delicious.”
The massage was exquisite. Chris didn’t even realize how much his muscles were aching from lugging around that belly. His moans grew louder and louder as his husband kneaded his tender flesh.
Raff’s tongue stroked down Chris’s spine, hot and firm, like he was enjoying a fine delicacy, until he reached the top of his ass. His hands were slick with oil now, and he spread Chris open with one hand and applied more oil with the other, liberally coating the entrance of his ass.
Chris’s nerve endings were alive now, and his body begged to be penetrated. When he felt Raff’s finger press into him, he cried out, his body shaking with lust.
“Fuck, Raff, just fuck me. Hard.” It was like his body and mind were possessed; obsessed with being violated in a most wonderful way.
“Yeah?” Raff replied, his voice low but dangerous. “You want me inside you? Say it again.”
“Fuck me, Raff. Fuck me, my alpha.”
But Raff wasn’t ready to give into him just yet. He pressed a second finger into him.
The delicious fullness made Chris arch his bag and let out his breath in a ragged sob. “More, more . . . more . . . ”
Raff pushed more roughly, filling him, fingerfucking him. “I love watching my fingers slide inside you; I love how your body accepts me and squeezes me tight.” He frigged him for a few more seconds and then stood. “Goddamn, you make me so hard. I’m absolutely aching to be inside you.”
Chris could hear him taking off his belt and unzipping his pants, the sound of fabric sliding down to the floor. Then he felt the hot, heavy head of Raff’s dick against his hole. “Is that what you want, omega?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Chris hissed, shamelessly.
“You’re hungry for it, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“My body is hungry for your cock.” The words were soft, as if Chris were almost too weak with desire to say them.
His hunger was rewarded.
Raff sunk into him, filling his slick hole to the hilt immediately and with a loud groan. “Mmff . . . you feel so good. I—” He pulled out and slammed back into him, three times quickly.
Chris loved it when Raff did this, acted like he just couldn’t control his lust and was just going to use Chris’s body to get himself off.
Raff squeezed his cheeks again in his big hands. “Mm . . . watching my dick slide into you, God, I’m going to fill you up until you leak, omega. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“Please . . . Raff . . . please. Don’t stop.”
Raff leaned over him. He was so tall that he could rest against Chris’s back and whisper into his ear while still firmly inside him. “Oh, darlin’ . . . I won’t.”
. . . But he did. He held still, inflicting the sweetest torture, and pleasure began to bloom inside Chris’s groin.
He pushed back against Raff, trying to fuck himself on his alpha’s cock.
Raff was caught by surprise and laughed at Chris’s antics. “Oh, you’re asking for it now.” He thrust into Chris’s ass hard this time, and fast, again and again, and soon the pleasure was overwhelming, all encompassing, and Chris’s body was vibrating like a tuning fork.
Reaching down and grabbing Chris’s own throbbing dick, Raff started to jerk him off. He loved it when they came in unison, when he could feel Chris’s asshole spasm around his own cock right before he himself came.
“Cum for me, darlin’. Cum all over the goddamn floor.”
Chris sobbed aloud, feeling on the edge, ready to fall over, just a bit more.
“Oh, I can feel it, omega, you’re getting so tight. I want to feel you cum on my cock. Please.” Raff’s voice was husky with desire and the last word came out as a plea.
Chris’s body lurched as his orgasm ripped through him. Raff’s hand didn’t stop pulling on him, and he could hear his own semen land in thick drops on the floor.
“That’s it, oh, fuck, that’s it. I can feel your insides throbbing, omega . . . Oh . . . ”
Raff’s orgasm was a powerful, awe-inspiring thing that filled the room with noise. His hips bucked forward as he plunged into Chris’s receptive body once more and then flooded him with his seed with a yell that rang in Chris’s ears.
It felt like it took forever, but it was over in a few precious seconds.
Raff slumped over Chris’s back, breathing heavily. “You okay?” he mumbled, nuzzling into Chris’s hair.
Chris told him he was.
They clung together for a few minutes, and then pulled apart.
“Go, sit,” Raff said. “I’ll clean up.” He leaned down and kissed his husband again, before reaching for the paper towels.
Chris moved to the couch and lay down, sleepy from his orgasm. The last thing he saw before he dozed off was his alpha wiping up the traces of their sex from the floor.
Chapter Twenty-two
“Raff?”
Normally a heavy sleeper, the tone in Chris’s voice woke the alpha immediately. He opened his eyes and realized in a split-second that he had fallen asleep on their bed after sex, grabbing a quick nap before Elizabeth woke up.
“Whazzit?” he blurted, his mouth not as awake as his brain. “What’s wrong?”
“Raff, I think I’m in labor.”
It was a month early. Not ideal, but it didn’t mean anything bad, necessarily.
Raff reminded Chris of as much as he got them ready to head to the hospital. Raff made Chris sit as he woke up Elizabeth, made some calls, and ran around putting together a bag.
“Caroline’s coming over for Elizabeth. She’s on her way. Ten minutes tops. Dr. Young is on her way to the hospital and will meet us there. And you’re going to be fine. How far apart ar
e the contractions?”
“I’ve had five in the past hour . . . sixty seconds long . . . but they’re getting closer together.”
“Okay, so probably Braxton-Hicks, but we’ll go get checked out anyway, right?”
He looked over at Chris on the couch, and saw that his husband’s eyes were wide and terrified.
“Hey, darlin’, it’s going to be okay. Even if this is the real deal, our boys are big and healthy and they will be fine.”
Chris just nodded.
Caroline arrived soon, her face worried but her voice cheerful, and she and Elizabeth waved to them as they headed down the hall to the elevator.
As Raff hit the down button, he prayed that everything would, in fact, be fine.
Chapter Twenty-three
Raff thought—hoped, at first—they would be sent home, told the contractions were false, nothing was wrong, that they should plan on coming back in a month.
Instead, after a brief exam, the very capable Dr. Young smiled and said, “Guess what, Chambers-Rivera family? It’s time to have your babies.”
Chris started arguing with the doctor, even as they prepped him for the caesarean. “They aren’t ready, I can tell! What if their lungs aren’t ready? What if they’re too small?”
“Chris.” The doctor put her hand on Chris’s hand, which was protectively covering his belly. “I just saw the fellas. They’re huge. In fact,” she said, checking Chris’s file again, “I believe we may have miscalculated the due date. I would say, at most, they are two weeks early. That’s nothing.” Her hand waved in the air as if to dismiss any fears with pure doctor magic. “You, and your beautiful babies, will be fine.”
They’d gone through it before but, once in the delivery room with the caesarean curtain protecting them from the gory details, Chris and Raff looked at each other with pure joy and anxiety. The two newest members of their family would arrive momentarily, and their fathers hadn’t even picked out their names yet.
