by Jaci J
The sixth and final emotion is something I can’t really put into words. There’s not a big enough or strong enough emotion for it. This thing, this baby, is completely amazing. It blows my mind every time I think about. Never in my life have I encountered anything like it. It’s your love for your girl times a million. Best fucking thing life has to offer.
****
It happened late one night a month back. Shit just caught me off guard and blew me away. Lil and me were lying on the couch, both laying sideways with Lil’s back lying against my front. One of my arms were under her head, the other thrown over her stomach and our legs tangled. At this point, her belly had gotten bigger. She’s not huge in my opinion. It’s big enough for me to touch without her wanting to hit me every time. At this stage she’s no longer saying she’s just fat, thank fuck. That stage was terrible.
Since I’ve seen and explored every square inch of that perfect fucking body, I noticed that belly. And let me tell you, before Lil, I’d never thought about a pregnant bitch. I never spared them a second glance or thought. They didn’t turn me on, but they did scare me. It’s not that I was disgusted by them, I guess I just could’ve cared less either way. Pregnancy happened to other people, not this motherfucker.
Now Lil being pregnant is something to see. Fuck, is she perfect. Hot as hell. Not a lot has changed on her. Her tits have gotten even bigger which I sure as fuck enjoy, and her ass and hips have maybe rounded out some. It’s all fucking good, but it’s that little belly. I fucking love that shit. Some strange sick Neanderthal thrill overcomes me every time I see it, every time I touch it. I swear it makes me want to tell everyone that I put that shit there. That’s all me, all mine. That belly says more than any certificate, tattoo, ring, or cut ever could. That shit means that that girl is mine. That’s my girl and my baby and I will kill anyone that comes close to fucking with that. Anyway, I’m off track. See Lil’s bangin’ body does that me.
Shit all changed for me the moment I felt it. Lil was asleep, out cold. My hand was lying over her stomach as I stared at the TV, when I felt that little baby kick. Scariest, coolest, craziest, most emotional thing I’ve ever felt. I laid there for hours touching, poking, and pushing on her belly just so I could feel it again. I was going to be a dad. Holy fuck, there’s a baby in there and it’s mine.
Then I got to see it. One day at a doctor’s appointment, I got to see the second best thing that’s ever happened to me.
We waited in the waiting room for the doctor. That was fucking torture. Nothin’ but a bunch of big pregnant bitches staring at me while we wait. They were either eye fucking me or steering clear of me. Then there was the room. That room was scary all on its own. It would have been any male’s idea of hell.
Pictures on the walls of various pussy and baby related posters closing in on me. Magazines and books dedicated to all things female and baby. The walls are some sickening bright pink and blue color. Girly chanting and moaning music playing through the room, making me twitchy. Fuck, on the table next to me was a board showing me just how much that baby will stretch my poor girl out. Some little shit in diapers was playing with a uterus. I wouldn’t do this for any other bitch. Lil’s lucky I love her so goddamn much.
“Miss. Cruz.” The little tart of a receptionist calls for Lil. I hate that shit. Hate that her last name isn’t mine. That baby is coming with his or her parents having different last names and I hate it.
“That shit’s changin’ here real soon baby.” I whisper loudly at her. She just waves me off and gives me an eye roll. I hope she knows that’s a promise. I’m not fucking around. Blue eye shadow and red lipstick eye fucks me as we pass and if Lil catches that bitch looking at me, I can’t be held accountable for what she does. She’s pregnant and I let my baby do whatever the fuck she wants to. I’m not standing in her way. Showing us into a room the bitch winks at me and closes the door.
Lil jumps up onto a table and starts pulling her clothes in all directions.
“The fuck ya doin’?” She looks at me with a wired expression. Before she can answer a chubby little thing in a white lab coat waddles into the room.
“Good afternoon Lilly. How are you and that sweet little angel doing?” The doctor asks, touching Lil’s stomach. I want to tell her to get the fuck away from my girl and my baby, but I know better. Lil would have my balls for it. Still I hate that shit, but fuck what am I going to do? Everyone does it and I’ve been learning to deal with it.
“We’re good. How are you?” Lil smiles sweetly. There’s that sweet ass Lil I don’t get often.
“Wonderful. Let’s get started.”
The white lab coat lady proceeds to measure her stomach and then the bitch starts poking and pushing on my baby. I really want to fucking tell her to stop doing that shit but Lil gives me a glare once I open my mouth. Not sure why she’s got to poke the fuck out of my girl and my baby, but what the fuck do I know?
“Would you mind getting the lights?” The doc asks me as she nods at the wall behind my head. Flipping the switch, the doctor pulls over a giant ass computer thing. Kind of reminds me of the diagnostic we’ve got at the shop for the engines. Anyway, I’m stuck sitting here like an idiot, because I’ve no fucking idea what’s going on.
“Are you interested in finding the sex out today?” The doctor asks.
“Hell yeah!” I tell her.
“No!” Lil answers at the same time. “I wanna be surprised.” Lil tells the doctor, but says it while staring me down with the devil in those eyes. Alright, I guess I’ll shut the fuck up. The doc chuckles like that isn’t the first time she’s heard that shit.
“Alright let’s see what this little angel is doing in there.” And that’s when my life changed forever.
Some clear gel and that was it. A little black screen turned a fuzzy gray.
“Scoot up closer.” The doc says, waving me over. Lil’s staring at the screen. She doesn’t even look at me when I sit by her. Doc starts moving that wand around and a strange as hell white, black, and gray mass shows up on the screen. Still not seeing shit. I’ve no idea what it is they’re looking for because if this is what it is, then I’m lost.
“Not seein’ shit.” The doc laughs again. Lil doesn’t even look at me.
“Lilly, could you turn your hips towards me a little.” Lil shifts and the doctor starts to do her thing again. She moves around the wand and points to the screen and says, “There’s a leg.” That did not look like a leg. Jesus Christ, if that’s the leg, then there is something wrong. It was a white line surrounded by black and gray. She’s either really good at her job, because she can see that shit, or she’s really bad, because I’m not seeing what she’s seeing.
For ten minutes I stare at that screen, getting nothing. The doc takes pictures and rambles off info, percentiles, tests, sizes and shit.
“I’ve got you down for a three dimensional scan, correct?” The doc asks Lil.
“Yep.”
The doc grins real big and says “I love these.” She fucking should, this shit cost me five hundred dollars. A few more buttons pressed and FINALLY, I fucking see it.
Craziest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life. I can see the baby. Jesus Christ it looks like a tiny ass human. I can see two arms. One is thrown out to the side and the other is curled into its side. Two perfect legs moving around and holy shit, there’s a face. My baby has chubby ass cheeks, long eye lashes, and cute little lips. It even has hair.
“Holy fuck.” Both Lil and the doctor turn their heads slowly to look at me. The doctor smiles and Lil’s eyes are huge.
“Indeed. The baby looks really great. He or she weighs about seven pounds now and around eighteen inches. You’ve got a big, healthy baby there. Not too long now and you’ll have him or her in your arms.”
I can’t look away. Scooting closer I can see fingers and toes. I can see every fucking thing. Fuck, I can see every perfect thing on my perfect little baby.
“That’s my baby.”
Life
is fucking good. I wouldn’t change this shit for anything.
20
Baby
Lil
Tank’s four inches from the screen with his face practically pressed against it. He’s all but blocked out my view now and I’ve given up trying to move him. He told me to shove over and that was it. Ten minutes ago the doctor told him she had other patients to see. He then proceeded to tell her he’d give her a thousand dollars to give us fifteen more minutes. My poor doctor is now printing off picture after picture and answering all kinds of crazy questions from my crazy ass man. It’s kind of annoying because I have to pee so badly, but it’s pretty fucking adorable too.
“Tank?” He doesn’t even look at me. “Babe.” I say shoving at his shoulder. He just shrugs me off. “Hello! Tank! Let’s go.”
“Shut it baby.” I shut it and let him look at his baby, in his bossy way. His baby. We’ll see whose baby it is at two in the morning when it’s crying uncontrollably.
He got ten minutes more of that before I was done. I hopped up and left him staring at the screen like I just told him Santa is fake. Walking through the office, he’s in baby land staring at the pictures. Who knew such a bad ass would be so into something like this.
“Names?” He says out of nowhere.
“Excuse me?” What the hell is he rambling on about? I can’t focus on anything other than the bathroom.
“Names for my baby, yeah?” Ah, so here we are. I have a feeling this is gonna be a battle.
“Do you have some picked out already?” I don’t know why I’m even asking. Of fucking course he does. Bossy ass wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Slash.” He deadpans. I wait for the laugh to come out of him, but nothing. He’s serious. Oh hell no. No fuckin’ way.
“Seriously?”
“Thor?” Thor? Really? Did he really just suggest Thor to me? I just shake my head and head for the swinging door. I have no response for that.
“Harley or Trigger.” He calls after me. I can’t help it, I laugh. I laugh so damn hard I have to brace myself against the side of the building to keep from toppling over and cross my legs to keep from peeing myself, which did happen, just a little bit.
“You’re joking, right?” I get out between my hysterical laughter.
“Fuck no.” His arms are crossed over his chest and his brows are drawn together as he stares down at me with his mouth in an unamused hard line.
“For one. Those names? Not happenin’, no matter how much you pout.”
“Education. I don’t fuckin’ pout.”
“Whatever you say. Those names though? No go. Never gonna happen so get them outta your thick head right now. Two, they’re all boy names. There’s a fifty percent chance it’s a girl.”
In my heart I could care less either way. It used to drive me bat shit crazy when you asked an expectant mother what sex she hoped her baby would be and she’d answer with that cliché response, “I don’t care as long as it’s healthy.” It’s true, I really don’t care as long as my baby comes out healthy. But that tiny bitchy biker brat in me rears her ugly head and says “Girl. Girl. Girl.” Just to spite him. Shaking his head he grumbles and growls.
“No fuckin’ girls. No. Not happenin’.” Impossibly stubborn asshole.
“I’m havin’ a girl just to drive you crazy.”
****
We got to the club and Tank showed everyone the picture of his baby. He went on and on until even I was annoyed with him. He really is into this whole baby thing. It’s kind of sweet that he’s into this so goddamn much. Sitting on the couch now, I watch Tank talk to Leo, Tiny and Gin. The three of them are huddled by the bar in a big ol’ biker circle. They’re doing their typical grunt, nod, coded word conversation about God knows what. I find it funny that even inside, away from outside prying eyes and unfriendly ears, they still talk like this. I mean, I could give a fuck less about what they’re talking about. Seriously, none of us Old Ladies care about their shit. If I really wanted to know, I could get him alone and fuck it out of him anyway. Give him some pussy and he’ll be spilling all kinds of secrets. He’d be a shit spy.
“Watcha’ talkin’ ‘bout babe?” I’ve gotta fuck with him. It’s to alluring not to. Tipping his head in my direction, he lifts an eyebrow while looking at me like I’ve lost my ever loving mind. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. Club shit babe.” Club shit? Ya don’t say.
“You talkin’ ‘bout that new line on the blow or the possible new brothers?” I don’t even get a response. He just throws his hands in the air and stomps off grumbling “Fuckin’ mouthy ass woman. Not tellin’ her shit again.”
“Damn brother, stop tellin’ your Old Lady all our business.” Leo mumbles, shaking his head.
“Well there goes all our fuckin’ secrets.” Gin laughs and smiles at me. Men, I swear. They’re worse than bitches.
But this is the Tank I’ve missed. This is man I’ve been waiting for. The one who is interested in his club again. The guy who holds down his club and brothers. The one who is bossy and a huge asshole. The man who keeps me close. The Tank that loves me enough to keep me in the loop. I’ve missed this Tank. Finally I have him back. Even if he’s grumbling and growling about me sticking my nose in club business, I still fucking love him.
****
“Doctor said I can still fuck you baby.” He informs me while smashing me into the bed. His face is in my neck and his hand is twisted up in my hair, pulling on it.
“Keep layin’ on me like that ‘n you’re gonna squish the baby right out of me.” Groaning he rolls off of me and onto this back right next to me. Throwing an arm over his head he grumbles.
“Killed the fuckin’ mood Lil! Talkin’ ‘bout squeezin’ babies out your pussy. Freaks me the fuck out.”
“Just wait ‘till I push one out.” He grumbles and groans. Hopping up, he shakes his head.
“You’re a mean fuckin’ woman, ya know that?” He growls waving around a hand at his hard dick. I just laugh. “Fuckin’ tease me in the hall then ya start talkin’ baby. Jesus Christ.” He stomps his way into the bathroom. The shower starts and he says, “You’re an asshole Lilly.”
“But you still love me.”
“Baby yeah I fuckin’ do, but you’re still a goddamn pain in my ass.”
He damn near fucked that baby right out of me. That night our lives changed forever.
****
Ty Trace. That’s my son’s name. My Son. I have a son. It’s insane. He’s so small and so perfect. He has Tanks dark hair, his lips, his nose, his jaw. They’re goddamn twins, and he’s so perfect. I’ve never seen anything like him. It’s hard not to cry when I look at him. From the moment he took his first breath, I knew I’d love him until I took my last.
Seven hours of hard labor. Crying, squeezing Tanks hand, yelling at everyone, hitting Tank, and throwing out every dirty word known to man and it happened so fast after that. The doctor said, “It’s a boy” and that was it for us. I’ve never seen Tank cry, but there were tears. Not many, but they were there.
“Here mommy.” The doctor said, handing me my son. God I have a son that looks exactly like his dad and it’s terrifying.
“Give him to Tank.” The doctor, nurses, Tank, and everyone there all looked at me like I was fucking nuts. “I’ve had nine months with him. I have the rest of my life to hold him. Give him to Tank.”
“Baby, I don’t know.” He’s scared. I’ve never seen this kind of scared from him before. His hands are shaking and his eyes are huge.
“You’ll be great.” I encourage him, even though I’ve got to admit … I’m a little nervous handing over my son. He’s been only mine for nine long months, and now it’s time to trust someone else with him. Tank would never hurt our son, but he’s just so small and fragile. The doctor hands him to Tank.
“He’s tiny. You lied doc. Ya said he was gonna be big.”
She laughs and shakes her head. “Nine pounds is big. He’s big and healthy. You two will be fine.”
“Doc say’s we’ll be fine, so don’t hold it against me if I man handle ya a little bit, buddy. I’m new at this shit.” Ty just wiggles around a little and yawns. Unwrapping Ty, I watch Tank poke and prod at him.
“What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry ‘bout it baby. Just get some damn sleep.”
“Bossy ass.”
“Mommy thinks I’m bossy, but mommy’s wrong. She’s the bossy one. Not too long now n’ it’ll be you she’ll be bossin’. Sorry to say bud, but it’s gonna be like that the rest of your damn life.”
“Don’t tell him that,” I yawn. I’m tired. Giving birth is exhausting. Tanks got him so I figure ten quick minutes of rest will be okay. Closing my eyes, I catch Tank lifting Ty up and laying him on his chest, propping his own feet up as he leans back.
“You’re my son. You’re a damn Tank, buddy.”
****
Ty’s a week old and I’ve held him maybe nine times since we brought him home. Okay so that’s an exaggeration, but it fucking feels like it. If Tank’s not hogging him, it’s someone else. Gin’s always hovering, trying to steal him from whoever has him. Peaches insists on putting every article of clothing he owns on him. Mary and Kiki are always smudging his face with red lipped kisses, and Cali has to cuddle him any time she sees him. Stitch shows him the bikes. Happy warns him off women, and Rampage will only hold him if he’s asleep, because according to him, that’s the only time he’s not crying.
The guys hold him and tell him all the ridiculous shit they’re going to let him do as soon as he’s walking. The old ladies “ooh” and “aah” him constantly. My son will always have a family, because everyone loves that little baby.
