“Fuck, Lys,” I murmured before grabbing her legs and yanking her pussy closer to my mouth. I had no time for gentle. No need for slow. I wanted her panting and screaming my name, and I wanted it now.
After I’d tipped her over the edge with my mouth and fingers, she took control and guided me onto the bed. She’d stripped me in record time before climbing on top to ride me. With the new angle, I could see the pregnancy hadn’t just swelled her belly. Her boobs were at least half a cup bigger than the last time she’d been above me.
So fucking sexy.
We spent the rest of the night wrapped up together. No matter how many times I made Alyssa scream my name as she came, it wasn’t enough for her.
I woke the next morning with her arse wiggling back against my morning wood.
“Are you trying to fucking wear it out?” I asked with a chuckle.
“What do you mean?” she mumbled sleepily as she pushed back again.
I grabbed her hips to press them firmly against my hard-on so that at least it wasn’t at the mercy of Alyssa’s relentless wriggling. “I mean that I counted at least six orgasms last night, and you’re ready for more.”
“What can I say?” Her tone teased as she reached back to dig her nails into my hip. “You make me insatiable.”
“Never like this though,” I murmured against her neck. “You’re going to give me cock burn.”
She spun in my hold and lifted her brow. “Are you saying my sexual appetite is too big for the great Declan Reede, ladies’ man extraordinaire?”
I heard the challenge in her tone and was determined to answer it. “Oh, that’s it!” I growled as I pounced on her, flipping our bodies so I was on top. “Now you’re in trouble.”
“That’s good,” she purred as she stretched out beneath me. “I love trouble!”
I was sure I had one more round in me, and if that wasn’t enough, we’d just have to have a visit from the vibrating friend she’d taken with her to London.
I had no idea how I was going to get through the next six-ish months with her mood swings and needs, but I was determined to do it the best way I could. And I’d fight anything to make her happy—even a mild case of friction burn.
CHAPTER SIX: VEEBACK
THE FIRST FEW weeks in our new home and life went far too fast. It was all a blur of revealing the new graphics for our team cars. All the Wood Racing livery had been stripped over the silly season and changed to our Emmanuel Racing design. The name change was something Paige had resisted but ultimately had to suck up and accept. She didn’t even have a say in the graphics. Her side of the sale agreement might have stretched to consulting and a profit share, but Alyssa and I were responsible for all the major decisions. We settled on a rearing horse leading the name, Emmanuel Racing, and colours that matched those on my custom helmet.
The only day Alyssa and I had off during those crazy weeks was Phoebe’s first day at school. We were both there to meet her teacher and introduce her to the school community. Eventually the plan was for Alyssa to work from home, around school hours, to be there for Phoebe and the baby.
In the short term though, Mum was taking up that responsibility around the part-time cleaning business she’d started. Although we wanted to settle into the eventual routine sooner rather than later, there was just too much we needed to get sorted. And we’d only had a very short time to do it because a week after Phoebe started school I was on my way to Yas for the first round of the season.
Thankfully there were only two overseas races in the season, and the other was in New Zealand. It meant there wasn’t the almost month-long stay away from home that there had been the year before.
When I lined up for qualifying in the Yas race, I buzzed with nervous energy. It was the first race with me in complete and sole control of the car I now financed—the business we’d sunk our life savings into. Any crash I was involved in was a hit straight to our profit. Between the bank funding, the share for Paige, and Danny’s keen eye on his investment, we needed to keep a tight hold on the purse strings or Emmanuel would be sunk before it even started.
Despite the need for caution, a definite excitement ran through my veins. I could barely keep my enthusiasm in check when I had to go to the owners’ meetings and the drivers’ meetings. Throughout the lead-up in Yas, I’d caught up with lots of people, including my former pit-crew buddies, met with Danny for some planning meetings, and had lunch with Morgan and Eden McGuire and Dane Kent—who would always be good friends despite being on my former team and technically my rivals.
After qualifying cleanly in midpack, I celebrated in the form of a Skype date with Alyssa and Phoebe.
The weekend was a bit of a torture test because watching Eden getting around with her own growing belly made me think of Alyssa back at home. Their due dates were only weeks apart, with Eden due late May and Alyssa due mid-June.
By the end of the weekend, Emmanuel Racing was on the lips of most of the reporters. We hadn’t won a race, but two seconds was enough to take the event because neither of the two first-place winners placed high enough in their other race to beat my combined tally. The number of times I’d uttered the phrase, “Consistency is the key,” as I’d been interviewed made the words almost meaningless, but that was going to be our race strategy for the year.
It was only after the event was over that I realised how much more there was to being an owner than to just being a driver. While Morgan, Dane, and the other boys all went back to their hotels to get ready for the flight home, I had to be on hand for all the logistics, arrangements, and final sign-offs on everything. I had good people I was beginning to trust, but there was still so much I had to learn.
“Congratulations on your success this weekend.” Danny gave me a grin that told me he didn’t mind that Sinclair Racing was behind Emmanuel in the championship. I was sure the order would chop and change a fair bit over the course of the year, but for now, I was happy to accept the glory.
“Not too bad for a rookie, hey?” I flashed him one of my trademark cocky grins. The sort that the sponsors lapped up.
He chuckled. “I learned a long time ago what you can do as a rookie, so I never expected anything less.”
His words surprised me, given where we were just over twelve months earlier, but I was glad for them anyway. “Thank you. Having a good mentor helps.”
“Not to mention a good woman at your side.”
“How can I argue there?” I wasn’t sure if it was a bit of a dig at me. Still, I couldn’t help but agree with him. Me with Alyssa beside me was better than me without her. I couldn’t imagine the way things could have gone without her and Phoebe—the way things were just eighteen months earlier.
“Hazel and I will have to do lunch with you two when we’re in Brisbane next.”
I never thought I’d be the “doing lunch” type, but as a business owner, I was going to have to get used to it. “We’d like that.”
I resisted the urge to let fly with a, “Have your people call my people,” but I had some fucking standards and no real people . . . yet.
NOT LONG after I was back from Yas, but before I really had to get ready for the next two races on back-to-back weekends in March, it was time for Alyssa’s twenty-week scan and first obstetrician appointment.
I was like a child on Christmas Eve as we waited for the scan. Alyssa, on the other hand, was bouncing off the walls for different reasons.
“Fuck, I need to pee!” she announced for the tenth time since we sat in the waiting room. “Why do they make you drink so much water before these things? It’s like they just ignore the fact that there’s a baby ready to bounce on it at any second.”
“I’m sure they’ll be out in a minute, and we’ll be done soon.”
“They better, Dec, or I’m just going to go to the toilet and they can get screwed. I can’t hold this in any longer.” Her legs bounced a fast rhythm as she did her own slightly subdued version of a potty dance.
I grabbed her hand. �
�They’ll be out in a minute.”
And if they weren’t, I’d have some choice words for them for making Alyssa wait.
It was barely five minutes later that the sonographer found us in the waiting room.
“Oh thank Christ for that!” Alyssa snapped as they called her name.
We followed the woman back to the ultrasound room where she guided Alyssa onto the bed. Alyssa pulled her dress up so it was bunched under her boobs and the sonographer tucked paper around it and into Alyssa’s panties. It reminded me of our first scan, except this time I wasn’t shitting myself quite as much. At least I knew what to expect this time.
Even though I’d seen the evidence of the growing baby—Alyssa’s expanding stomach—day by day, it was only seeing that image and contrasting it to the memory of the last scan that made me realise just how big Alyssa was getting. The baby was higher, the bump more rounded than before.
“Are you ready to see your baby?”
The sonographer shifted the screen so Alyssa and I could both see our baby as I sat at Alyssa’s side with her hand in mine.
“Let’s see what we’ve got.” She pushed the wand against Alyssa’s stomach and a mess of black and white moved over the screen. Just like last time, I had no idea what was what until the sonographer pointed it all out. Once she’d pointed out the head, I was able to track that.
“Everything’s looking good here,” she said as she continued to stop the image every so often for various measurements. “Now, let’s get the heartbeat.”
Just like the last time, I wasn’t in any way prepared for the depth of emotions that welled inside me at the noise. My throat closed and my own heart rushed as the fast whoosh-whoosh sound filled the air accompanied by spikes on the screen. My smile fought through as I glanced at Alyssa, who had tears welling in her eyes.
“Have you guys thought about whether you want to find out the sex?”
Alyssa giggled. “Unless anything’s changed, or the last guy got it wrong, we already know.”
“Shall we double-check, just to be on the safe side?”
I nodded, and Alyssa said, “Sure.”
The last thing we needed was to have promised Phoebe a brother and deliver a sister. Not that I thought she’d mind a sister, but it was best to prepare her.
The sonographer moved the wand around for a moment and pointed out what she was seeing. “This here”—she guided her pointer over the screen—“would suggest you’re having a little boy.”
Even though it was what we’d been told, it was nice to have the confirmation.
“Ah!” Alyssa sat up, no doubt copping another kick to her liver or something. I felt a stab of jealousy. Even though an internal beating wasn’t exactly anyone’s idea of fun, it was a connection Alyssa had to the baby that I didn’t.
“He’s an active little thing.” The sonographer laughed. “And he’s got a good kick on him.”
My gaze shot to her. “What? You felt it?”
With a quiet laugh, she hung up the wand and wiped Alyssa’s belly down with a tissue. Then she reached for my hand. She guided it to the place where the wand had been a moment earlier. “Just . . .” She trailed off and paused for a moment. “There.”
Under my palm, Alyssa’s stomach flinched. I glanced between the sonographer and Alyssa, who nodded, as if to answer a question I hadn’t asked. Maybe my expression belied my confusion over the little nudge. That was a kick? That tiny little flinch? I’d felt something similar once or twice over the last week, but I didn’t think it was . . .
It hit me.
Holy fuck! They were kicks—I’d felt our baby kick. I wanted to rest both my hands on Alyssa’s belly and wait until he moved again—to absorb every motion I could.
“Are you finished?” Alyssa asked, her tone tinged with impatience. At first I thought it might have been directed at me, but she wasn’t looking at me.
The sonographer gave a knowing smile. “I’m done. The toilet’s through there.”
“Thank goodness,” Alyssa said before turning her gaze to me. “Can I . . .?”
I realised my hand was still pressed against her stomach and reluctantly tugged it away with an apology on my lips.
“Here you go,” the sonographer said, handing me a couple of small sheets of paper. When I glanced down, I saw they were printouts of the baby. My chest tightened as I thought the words again.
Our baby.
It was still a little surreal, but fucking awesome all at once.
When Alyssa came back into the room—back to her smiling self now that she wasn’t battling with a full bladder and active baby—the sonographer gave her a grin. “The reports will go to the maternity ward, but everything looks good.”
“Thank you.” Alyssa took my hand and led me out.
We had a few hours to kill before our first appointment with the obstetrician, so we went for a little walk to get some food. We soon found ourselves at a burger joint nearby.
Ignoring the last of her food, Alyssa leaned across the table to draw my hands into hers. With her wide eyes and teasing smile, she proved that her words were an understatement. “It’s actually nice having some time with you like this.”
I didn’t need to ask what she meant, because our lives had been crazy and we’d barely had time together alone, let alone enough to stop and share a meal. “It’ll get easier, won’t it?”
“I hope so, but who knows? I mean when this little one comes, we’ll be back to the routine of sleepless nights, nappies, round-the-clock breastfeeding. It’s going to be crazy.”
I clasped her hands in mine. “I like our kind of crazy.”
She sighed and then started to cry. “I do too.”
I swiped her tears with my thumb. “These don’t suggest you do.”
“It’s just so much.” Her voice cracked. “There are days where I just can’t believe what we’ve become. Where we are. I mean, two years ago . . .”
She was alone and every aspect of my life was sliding down the shitter faster than I would have believed possible when I’d signed my initial contract with Sinclair Racing and left home.
Alyssa sighed and shook her head dreamily. “I was supposed to be on my way to a high-flying law career.”
How she’d hated that job. What would our life be like if she still had to face it every day?
I rubbed my thumb over hers. “And I was supposed to be nothing more than a driver. Things change. People change.”
Her gaze dropped to our joined hands. “I know.”
Leaning further across the table, I cupped her cheek. “Are you happy?” Although I didn’t think the question was completely necessary, the fact that she was crying made me ask it.
“I’m ecstatic. I really am. I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“Lys,” I whispered as I leant across the table conspiratorially.
She leant forward too.
“I threw the other fucking shoe away.” I gave her my trademark smirk.
A sweet little laugh escaped her. “I love you, Dec.”
“I love you too, Lys.” I kissed her lips. “We should probably get back to the hospital for the maternity clinic appointment, though.”
It was almost an hour and a half later before we were in the doctor’s office for our visit. She spoke about various things to Alyssa, but I was only half paying attention. There were some things I didn’t want to know about, not even when it came to my wife.
When they started to talk birth plans, my ears pricked up. I needed to know both Alyssa and the baby would be safe. That was my one goal, the one thing I could try to impact.
“I’m interested in a VBAC,” Alyssa said.
I screwed my nose up at the word. What the fuck was a veeback? It was the first time I’d heard her talk about anything.
“You understand that can be quite risky?” the doctor said.
“So can a secondary C-section,” Alyssa shot back just as quickly. “I can assure you, I’m not coming into this doe-
eyed and innocent. I’m all too well aware of the risks of childbirth, both to mother and baby. My caesarean was over five years ago. My scar tissue is well healed. I’m young, fit, and healthy. The reason for my previous caesarean is documented in my file, and if the same thing happens in pregnancy, of course I’ll do whatever is necessary to keep both the baby and myself safe. But I’ve researched the pros and cons of both, and I’d like to try. I think there would be a benefit in VBAC in my circumstances.”
“Risks?” I asked as my stomach fell. What did she mean risks? I looked to Alyssa for reassurance, but she wouldn’t meet my eye. Did she know this?
My heart raced and all I could hear was a siren going off in my head, warning me that the baby and Alyssa could be in danger.
“Multiple risks,” the doctor said. “The most concerning being the risk of uterine rupture.”
Rupture wasn’t a good word. I didn’t like the sound of that risk at all. Especially not concerning Alyssa or the baby.
Alyssa reached for my hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “There are risks involved with every pregnancy. If I have another C-section, there are risks too. The recovery time will be less if I can have a VBAC. I really would prefer to avoid surgery if I can.”
My mind was still spinning around with the words I didn’t like and those I didn’t understand. I wanted to hold my hand up and say slow the fuck down, but the doc and Alyssa seemed content to continue their conversation.
“Are you considering more children?”
Alyssa turned her gaze to me with the question burning in her eyes.
“Can’t we get through this one first?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I could take the idea of risks and ruptures all over again. If I’d heard those words before we started trying for a baby, I probably would’ve refused. My little family of three would have been more than enough if having more kids was going to put Alyssa in danger.
“We can certainly assess your viability as a candidate for trialling a VBAC, especially as you seem willing to consider other options if there’s an emergency.”
Declan Reede: The Untold Story (Complete Series) Page 140
