by James, Marie
I’ve heard Dad, Shadow, and Kid talking about Mom’s first husband, the same man that came after her after abusing her during their entire relationship. He died for his efforts less than a hundred yards from where we are right now.
“I can see myself loving him,” I confess.
I don’t know if my appeal is merely sexual or if it goes deeper than that, but there has been a pull, low in my gut that confuses me whenever he’s around.
“That’s a start.” The smile that was disappearing with her memories is renewed the moment the front door opens, and Dad appears in the kitchen.
He’s not happy, but the black cloud of anger that rained down on all of us in his office earlier seems to have dissipated some.
“You need to eat,” he huffs on his way to wrap his arms around Mom. “You’re too skinny, and the baby needs the nourishment.”
“How quickly you accept my delicate decision.” I pick up my previously ignored sandwich and take a hearty bite.
“I’m a realist, Georgia. No matter how much I wish things were different, I can’t ignore the truth of the situation.”
“Different?” Irritation marks my tone enough that he leans in, head on my mother’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight around her, and his eyebrow cocks up. “And exactly how do you wish my life was different?”
“I’d prefer you educated, married, and mentally, financially, and emotionally prepared. Parenting is hard even for those that plan on the children they conceive.”
My mom’s smile grows wider as she turns her head and kisses Dad on the jaw.
“Your dad struggled a little in the beginning. Two babies are a handful with everything else going on.”
I’ve heard those stories as well. Only these were told around Thanksgiving tables and near the fireplace at Christmas. The stories of him coming to terms with being the father of not one, but two, little girls were told to family and friends in rooms filled with friendly taunting and laughs.
“I remember.” I smile at both of them, so in love even after two decades, is something I’ve longed for for a while, although I’d never admitted it out loud.
“Blade made you a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow. Thankfully, Dr. Davison had an opening, but it’s first thing in the morning,” Dad says nuzzling into Mom’s neck.
Her cheeks flush, and I want to groan at the arousal he’s building in her, but that’s what kids do, and I’m no longer a child.
“Dr. Davison is old as the hills, and besides, he’s a general practitioner. I think an OB/GYN is better suited for this situation. Don’t you?”
“Dr. Camryn Davison, his daughter, is in her residency. I hear she’s better than the OB she’s working under.”
The pride he has in his eyes for his friend’s daughter hurts more than it should. I haven’t seen it pointed in my direction since stealing home once at a softball game in middle school.
“Sounds good,” I agree and laugh when shock runs across his face at my quick agreement.
I never give in that easy. Normal Gigi would argue, throw a fit about him running her life and making decisions for her, but I know, even though he may not be happy about my out-of-wedlock pregnancy, he’d never send me to a doctor he didn’t have full faith in.
“I trust you, grandpa.” I slide off of the stool, still unable to stomach the half-eaten sandwich and laugh again when he begins to look sick.
“Too soon, honey,” my mother chides as I kiss them both on the cheek and head up to my room.
Maybe making Dad freak out means whatever sexual tension that was building between them will have faded away and they’ll just go to bed. Although I’m exhausted, I know I’ll sleep better in Jameson’s arms. My skin tingles at the mere thought of his hands not just wrapped around me, but his hand wandering lower.
I shake my head.
“Soon,” I mutter, kicking off my shoes and climbing under the warm sheets.
When I hear my mom giggle on their way upstairs, I groan and settle in, knowing they won’t be going to sleep anytime soon.
I spend an hour staring up at the ceiling in my childhood bedroom, mind racing with worry and doubt. There’s nothing I could be doing right this second to make things easier, but I’m still restless at the idea of being back in Farmington. I have no prospects. The only plan on my horizon is hanging out at my parents’ house and growing a baby. The truth of the boredom I’m facing agitates me. I’m not an idle person. I’m not lazy. I can’t stand being stagnant, just sitting around and not doing a damn thing.
Turning my head, I glance over at my dresser. Usually, when I’m dragged back home, I’ve got a suitcase and a stray bag or two. This time, I was honest with Jameson. There was nothing back at the apartment that I wanted to keep. The vacancy on the carpet across the room is unsettling as my itch to get up and do something claws at my skin.
It’s how it has always been. I’m finicky and make decisions pretty quickly. It’s why I just up and leave sometimes. I don’t even have to be annoyed or pissed at my parents. Some days, I just feel like leaving.
I bite my lip at the thought of Jameson chasing me, hunting me down after I’ve left Farmington in my dust. Smiling, I turn to my left side, closing my eyes, and I let the fantasy of him finding me, punishing me for my insolence invades my mind. That thought, that idea carries me into sleep and keeps me warm all night long.
Chapter 25
Hound
She never came to me last night. I have no idea what happened in her house last night after her dad returned.
“You really know how to fuck shit up don’t you?”
I turn to look at Scooter who is smoking just outside of the front door of the clubhouse.
“Clearly,” I mutter, glancing to his cigarette and remembering a time when smoke in my lungs first thing in the morning was what I lived for.
I lick my lips unconsciously, and Scooter offers his pack in my direction.
“No thanks,” I tell him and look over at the construction crew that’s already milling around across the street.
“They work fast as hell,” Scooter says, his eyes focusing across the street as well.
“Kincaid going to build you a house out back now that you’re family and shit?”
“Not likely. I’m pretty certain I’ll end up a casualty on our next mission. It’d be easier to explain than a corpse in the clubhouse.”
He chuckles, but he’s shaking his head. “If Prez didn’t kill you in the moment, he won’t do it later. Well…”
“What?” I turn back to look at him.
“He may if you fuck her twin and knock her up too.”
I punch him in the arm hard enough to nearly knock him off the side of the small concrete porch.
“That shit’s not funny. I have no intention of fucking her twin.”
“Who’s fucking whom?”
We both turn to see Gigi walking down the sidewalk toward us.
Scooter clears his throat, tosses his cigarette butt into the ashtray, and apologizes for his language before he turns and walks toward the garage.
“Hey.” It’s the best I can manage at the sight of her in a dress that hits the middle of her thighs and clings to the perfect globes of her breasts.
“I see you’ve made friends while I was gone.” She smiles, but I can see the exhaustion playing near her eyes and the same pink on her cheeks she gets when she either gets sick or orgasms.
Betting that the glow is from morning sickness and not coming, I step closer to her.
“I missed you last night,” I confess and wrap my arms around her. I press a soft kiss to her forehead before pulling my head back to look into her eyes.
“I fell asleep waiting for Mom and Dad to go to sleep,” she says, her eyes beaming up at mine.
“What’s that look for?”
A sheepish smile spreads across her beautiful face, the pink in her cheeks doubling.
“I dreamed about you last night,” she confesses.
“Did you?” My c
ock thickens at the salaciousness in her eyes. “Dare I ask what this dream entailed?”
“Well,” she says turning, breaking my hold on her, and walking toward the SUV we drove back from Vegas in yesterday. “There were ropes.”
“I’m good with ropes.”
“There was a ball gag.”
“Not my style,” I whisper in her ear as I tug open the passenger side door so she can climb inside. “I want to hear you whimper, moan, and come loud enough to make the neighbors bang on the wall.”
Her breathing grows shallower, eyelids lowering.
“There were also nipple clamps and a butt plug.”
My cock, ready for all of it, pushes against the zipper of my jeans. Since I go commando, I know I’ll have indentions from the teeth in a line right down the length of it.
“We’re going to the doctor’s office,” I remind her.
Her pretty white teeth clamp on her bottom lip as she fights a smile. “We can always stop off at the park. We have time.”
I lean in close, her breath mixing with mine. “It’s your first visit.”
“It is,” she agrees.
“I looked on the internet, and your first visit includes an exam,” I inform her.
“Okay,” she says watching my mouth and only half listening.
“We can stop at the park.”
She nods, pink tongue sweeping across her lip. I can feel the echo of the action in the throb of my cock.
“Please,” she begs. “I dreamed of you fucking me all night. I needed it so much, I fingered myself the second I woke up.”
“Did you?”
I groan at the frantic nodding of her head. “And again in the shower.”
So the flush on her cheeks wasn’t from morning sickness.
“You have an exam in an hour.”
“We have time,” she urges.
“Then you’ll be the one explaining to the doctor why my come is dripping out of you during your exam.”
Fuck do I hate she has that damn exam.
Her eyes widen at realizing what a stop at the park will mean, and I can’t help but laugh.
She shoves at my shoulder. “You asshole. You got me all hot and bothered, and now we can’t do a damn thing.”
“You’re wet.”
“So wet,” she pants.
“We can take care of that.”
I close her door and walk around to the driver’s side, thankful there isn’t a soul in sight to see the pole trying to escape my jeans.
***
“That smirk,” she says with a quick shake of her head.
“You’re beautiful after you come.” I shift, not finding any comfort in the motion. My cock was ignored in the park when I lifted her off her seat of the SUV and forced her pussy to my mouth. She came twice, and I licked her clean, my dick going untouched the entire time. It seemed like a good idea at the time. I regretted it the instant we got inside the exam room, and she stripped naked only to cover her amazing body back up with a thin, paper gown.
“I could’ve sucked you off.”
I groan and shift again.
“You’ll get your chance,” I promise just as a soft but authoritative knock hits the door.
“Come in,” Gigi says, an expectant look on her face.
A female doctor, too damn young to have already gone through medical school walks in with a bright smile on her face.
“Hello, Georgia.” She offers her hand, and my girl shakes it.
“Gigi, please,” she corrects, her eyes narrowing at the doctor.
“Your dad called this morning. Gave me a little history. I noticed in your chart that it’s been a few years since your last pelvic exam.”
“Listen, Cam,” Gigi begins, and I can tell she’s suddenly irritated just by her tone.
“It’s Dr. Davison, now,” the professional says with such sharpness I recoil then dart my eyes to Gigi, fully expecting her to come off the table and claw the doctor’s eyes out.
Instead, Gigi laughs. “You’ve been Cam all my life.”
“Don’t remind me,” Cam says with a familiarity I’m just now catching onto. “Babysitting you is something I’d rather not remember.”
“You were mean,” Gigi says.
“You stuck bubble gum in my hair.” Her arms cross over her chest, nose tilting up in defiance.
“You had your boyfriend over and ignored us. Ivy hurt herself in the bath because you were too busy sucking face with that Benelli boy!”
Cam closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “That was ten years ago. Your parents forgave me, and you should too. I babysat you for several more years after that.”
“Hi,” I say standing and trying to diffuse the situation. I offer her my hand. “I’m Jameson Rawley.”
“The father, I presume.” She shakes my hand, full professional mask back in place.
“Let’s get started.” She turns back to Gigi like they weren’t enemies years ago. “Yearly exams are vital for your health, Gigi.”
“I know. I won’t miss another one.”
When Dr. Davison asks her to lie back for a breast exam, I nearly get up and walk out. The pictures marking the walls don’t help either. Breasts, albeit rendered with an artist’s hand, are everywhere. I look down at my hands instead.
“Please don’t talk to my dad about me,” Gigi says in a pleading voice. “I’m grown.”
“Of course,” Dr. Davison says.
The breast exam is complete, and I finally look up when Gigi covers her chest.
“Let me get the nurse for the next part. I’ll be right back.”
“You know her?” Why I ask I don’t know. Clearly, they have a history.
She just nods, but I pay attention when her teeth strike her bottom lip. “I’m going to be imagining it’s you when she slides her fingers inside of me.”
“God damn,” I hiss. “You need to stop.”
There’s a soft knock, and now two people dressed in scrubs make their way inside the already cramped room.
My throat is dry, and I only stare when the nurse tries to make casual conversation.
I’m hard as steel by the time Dr. Davison asks Gigi to lie back.
I’m leaking from my tip when the request is made for her feet to be placed in the stirrups.
I nearly come as Gigi moans when Dr. Davison inserts her fingers into my girl.
“Are you experiencing discomfort,” the doctor asks, concerned.
“No,” Gigi pants. “It’s just a little weird with you being the one to do this.”
Dr. Davison laughs. “I assure you. We’re very professional here.”
I’m not a ménage kind of guy. I can admit I’ve had my fair share of fucking several girls at once, but it wasn’t something I ever sought out, rather something that just ended up happening. I sure as fuck don’t want to share a second of Gigi’s time, but her words and the knowledge that she’s inappropriately turned on right now would bring me to my knees if I were standing.
“Is sex safe?”
I choke out a disbelieving cough.
The doctor laughs again. “That’s the most asked question we get when a couple finds out they’re expecting.”
I fucking blush when she looks over at me, at least two fingers deep inside my girl.
“Sex is safe. I suggest lots of showers beforehand and no douching. Pregnant women’s hormones are all over the place which makes you more prone to yeast and urinary tract infections.”
“What about piercings?”
I can feel the heat creep up my chest to my face. She’s fucking with me. I just know it. These are questions we can Google, yet she’s asking them in a room with two women I don’t know. I’m not a shy man, but their professionalism makes me uncomfortable.
Dr. Davison tries to cover a laugh with a quick cough. The older nurse just looks bored.
“You’ve got what?” Gigi looks over at me, and grins, knowing I’m going to paddle her ass later for this. “Four or five piercings.”
“Seven, total,” I correct.
Dr. Davison looks impressed, but it’s the nurse’s “Oh my,” that earns Gigi another couple of slaps to her naked ass.
“Piercings are fine.” Dr. Davison’s voice is a little higher than it has been so far today. She gives me a serious look. “So long as they’re taken care of, not infected, and clean.”
“Of course,” I respond.
Dr. Davison pulls off her latex gloves and tosses them to the used instrument tray before turning back to Gigi.
“Do you have any more questions?”
I watch Gigi’s throat work on a swallow, and I try to prepare myself for what’s coming. My palm is already warming, and I know I’m going to redden her ass before we even leave the parking lot.
Yet, all thoughts of distributing punishment fade away when her mouth opens.
Chapter 26
Gigi
“Will cocaine hurt the baby?”
I avoid Jameson’s eyes even though I can feel the fire from them burning into the side of my face.
“Any drugs including cigarettes, excessive amounts of caffeine and some over the counter medications can be harmful to the fetus,” Dr. Davison explains. “How often are you using? There are programs—”
“I haven’t.” I shake my head, the only thing I can think to do to keep the tears burning my eyes from falling. “The night…”
I look over at Jameson, but he’s looking down at hands knotted together in anger, not in disappointment. His anger I can handle. Knowing he’ll meet my eyes and I’ll see the same disappointment that’s been so familiar on my parents’ faces will be unbearable.
“The night I conceived. I used cocaine that night. I haven’t used since then.”
I’m speaking to Cam, but my eyes stay on Jameson, begging him to look at me, praying he’ll still want me. I wasn’t going to say anything, but I vowed to be the best mother I can be, and I knew I’d worry relentlessly if I didn’t know.
“Look at me.” I feel Cam’s hand on my shoulder. When I turn to face her, she pushes a tissue into my hand, and it’s only then that I realize the tears have begun to fall. “Your baby will be fine. There’s minimal risk so long as you don’t use again.”
