“Whoa there, buddy. I’m taken.” There’s no one in this world that could make me reconsider being with Seth.
Seth takes that moment to find me and wraps an arm around my waist. His hold is tight, firm, and possessive. He pulls me in front of him and rests his chin on top of my head.
“No hitting on my wife, Mason.”
An indescribable warmth swirls in my stomach and hits my heart.
“No way, man. The Seth I met two years ago wouldn’t be married. ‘Specially wouldn’t have gotten lucky enough to get this one,” Mason quips, nodding at me.
Seth’s breath hits my ears, igniting a bolt of pleasure all the way to my toes. “You still think it was a good idea to meet the band, Pussycat?”
I try to hide my smile. Seth turns his attention back to Mason. “Not married yet, but in a couple weeks she’s all mine. Until she’s Mrs. Montgomery, she’s Josie to you. Not cutie, hottie, or sexy,” he looks down at me and smirks. “Even though she is.”
I can’t help but wonder how close he grew to this group of men while he was away. A series of drunken nights seemed to have formed a friendship between Seth, Mason, Ollie, and Ty. Mason and Ollie have both hit on me and instead of Seth’s usual aggressive remarks, he’s calm and laughing about it.
“Josie ….” Mason looks lost in thought for a moment. “Shit. Josie? The one who broke your heart?”
Apparently, Seth talks a lot when he’s drunk and miles away from me. I blink a thousand times trying to come up with something to say. Seth’s chest rumbles in silent laughter.
“I made it up to him,” I grumble, making a fist and hitting Seth’s thigh.
“I’m sure you did,” Masons says, his tone suggestive. He points at the mini bar filled with bottles of whisky, vodka, and gin. “Let me make you a drink. To make up for hitting on you.”
“Actually, I’m not feeling well, so I’m skipping alcohol tonight.”
Mason’s eyes slide to Seth’s, raising his eyebrows. “Knocked her up, too? Is that why you’re getting married?”
I laugh nervously and Seth’s grip tightens around my stomach. “I wish. I finally convinced her to talk about it, though.”
“You didn’t convince me, you hustled me.” Underneath my teasing tone is unbridled excitement. He wishes I was pregnant. Which makes my revelation tonight even better. He lit up my world when he asked me to marry him. Getting to tell him I’m pregnant is going to be even better than that.
Seth’s teeth nip my ear, breath hot and heavy against my skin. “You’re so fucking sexy when you say that. I want to eat you up.”
I tilt my head back to look at him and zone in on his mouth, glossed from him licking his lips. “Don’t say things you can’t keep promises to, Sethy,” I say in a low voice, only meant for him.
His lips whisper against my jaw, “You know I always keep my promises. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 8
Seth
Josie doesn’t have any clue that she is a dangerously sensual woman. She doesn’t know that every time she puts her hand on my thigh while I’m driving that she’s stealing a piece of my heart. She doesn’t know that when she whispers my name in the darkness of the truck, my heart rate triples.
I don’t think she knows that she owns me.
When I park in front of our yellow house, I walk to her side and lift her into my arms. Her hands cling to the back of my neck and her mouth reaches up to kiss my throat. I moan deeply and lose my balance for a second when I feel her tongue on me, tasting the roughness from my day-old scruff.
Once I get her through the door, I shift her body so she wraps her legs around my waist. Her mouth meets mine in a chase for satisfaction, and I groan, pushing her against the hallway closet. I attack her neck with my mouth and my hands push her skirt up to her waist.
My chest heaves with rapid, heavy breaths. I’m pretty fucking sure I might die from wanting her so bad. Her hands tangle in my hair and she arches her back, pressing her tits harder my body. Pushing her harder into the wall, I move my hands to take off her top. She’ll get pissy later about the mess of clothes, but my focus is solely on her. And especially on the pink lace encasing her breasts.
Dipping my head, I wrap my mouth around the hardened nipple forming beneath her bra.
“Oh, shit,” she gasps. Her hips reach. Reach for more. She tugs. Tugs my shirt up wanting to see me. “Sethy, please.”
My heart stutters. I’m pretty sure I’m going to have heart failure. I move my mouth along the seam of the fabric and shudder feeling her fingers claw my back.
“God, I love it when you call me that,” I mumble. She knows I love it, that’s why she whispers it to me when I’m rock hard against her soft skin. I knead her ass with one hand and move the other to feel her heavy breast.
She removes her hands from my back and I growl in frustration. Before I can force her touch me again, she’s reaching behind her and unclasping her bra. I kiss my way up her neck and tongue the shell of her ear.
“That’s my job, Pussycat. I want to take off every piece of clothing on your body. Then I want to fuck you so hard you forget what year it is.”
She moans, but it turns into a small cry when I move my hand between her thighs. I pick her up again and stroke the inside of her wet pussy as I walk us into our bedroom. I throw her on the perfectly-made bed and shuck off my shirt and jeans. I look back at Josie and she’s gone pale. She holds up a finger, closing her eyes, shakes her head, and re-opens her eyes.
“I wanted to undress you,” she says, voice thick and reaching to tug on the waistband of my boxers.
“Finish me off then, pretty girl.”
She kneels on the bed and leans forward to touch my chest. Her mouth alternates between each of my nipple piercings and then down the tattoos on my ribs. I’m a chained prisoner to her mouth. I’m dying for more. Her tongue is hot and yet my body shivers for her.
“Jos …. Fuck.” Her hand pulls the last of my clothes off and her mouth follows the lines of my body until she’s at the tip of my erection.
Her tongue flicks the head beading with pre-come, and my knees buckle. I’m not fucking kidding. She has possessed me. Controls me. Owns me.
I release a loud moan when she takes me in her mouth. Her hips pump air with need and her mouth sucks hard for my release.
“Fucking Christ,” I gasp when I feel her tongue work its way from the base of my cock up to the head. I grab some of her hair and run my other hand down her back. Her back arcs at my touch, lifting her ass in an invitation to play with her. I push softly on her head, about to come and wanting to feel it go down her throat, but she pulls back quickly.
She slaps her hand over her mouth, eyes bulging.
“Don’t move,” she says and runs into the bathroom.
I’m stone-still, shocked and confused. Clouds obstruct my thought process, still reeling from the feel of her mouth around my pulsing dick. What the fuck just happened? One second I’m about to come and the next …
Sounds of Josie retching in the toilet fill my ears. Shit. What was I thinking taking advantage of her while she’s sick?
Pulling a pair of pajama pants from the dresser, I slip them on and walk into the bathroom. I grab a hair tie off the counter and pull back her hair from her face. My hand rubs her back as I whisper promises to her that I’m not sure I can keep.
“It’ll be okay, baby. We’ll get you better.”
When she’s done, she lays her head on the toilet seat and lets out a long groan. Her hand holds her stomach and I continue to rub her back until she’s able to stand. When she finally comes around, I get up and turn on the shower. Her eyes stay closed as she brushes her teeth. I unzip her skirt, take it off, and turn her around.
“You okay?” I whisper.
She nods her head but doesn’t open her heavy eyelids.
“Can you go get me some hot tea and the pill bottle on the kitchen counter?” she asks, voice hoarse.
“Of course, baby. You want me to
come in the shower with you?” No. That was not a sexual invitation. That was me wanting to wash her and take care of her while she’s sick. She looks so fragile in front of me. Thin. Pale. Sick. I want to make her better.
“No. I’ll be quick.”
As I lean against the kitchen counter waiting for the water to boil, I hang my head. Worry doesn’t even touch the surface of what I’m feeling. She’s right in front of me, sick and hurting, and I can’t do anything to help her feel better. I feel useless.
I don’t recognize the name of the drug on the pill bottle, but I bring it into the room anyway. Josie is already out of the shower by the time I come back in, wrapping herself in a fluffy white towel. Color is seeping back into her beautiful cheeks, and I calm down a little.
“Hey, you,” I say softy, placing the pill bottle and mug on her side table. She comes up to me and wraps her arms around my waist.
“I’m so sorry, Sethy. You’re not supposed to be taking care of me on your birthday.”
I place two fingers under her chin and tilt her head to look at me. “Don’t say sorry. Never say sorry for that. I don’t need a wedding to keep my promise that I’ll always take care of you.”
I hold her for a few minutes longer before she detaches from me and takes the medicine I brought in. As soon as we snuggle under the covers, I pull her back into my arms. I trace patterns on her skin while she hums contentedly.
“What time is it?” she asks in a soft voice.
“Two.” I kiss her bare shoulder and push her hair back so I can see her face.
She turns around and smiles. “Happy Birthday,” she whispers.
I tap the tip of her nose. “Thank you.” She kisses me lazily. There’s no point keeping track of time, all the seconds run into minutes, run into hours, run into an eternity. An eternity of kissing the girl I love.
We pull apart, heavy breaths filling the space between us. “Josie, I have to ask you something.”
“Anything.” She nuzzles into my side.
“Now this is serious, Pussycat. My ego is seriously shot right now.”
She pulls back and grins. “What are you talking about?”
My palm slides up her thigh and waist and ribs. “I’m trying to ask you…. God, this is so fucking stupid.” I pause and look up at the ceiling. “Like, did I taste bad or something? Was it me?”
Her hand shoots to her mouth and she squeezes her eyes shut. “Sorry.” She shakes her head and holds up her other hand. “I’m not trying to laugh.” But she does. She cracks up and buries her head in her pillow.
I’m officially wounded. “Josie Lynn, stop laughing at me. I’m serious. A man should know if he’s the reason his girl throws up in the middle of a hot blow job.”
She laughs harder and I grin watching her. Her laughter is the music of the chimes on our back porch, tolling as a soft breeze runs through the bells. She calms down eventually and turns back to me, cheeks red and eyes moist.
“Definitely not you.” Her finger trails over the lines of my abdomen and up my chest. “You taste amazing.”
“Swear?”
“I swear.” She kisses my chest and looks up at me beneath her long lush dark eyelashes.
“Is now a good time to bring up that bet I won tonight?” I ask. My voice is low and slightly unsure. I want so badly to open the conversation.
She lights up—which shocks me—and straddles me.
“Do you want your birthday present now?” Mischievousness glints in her eyes.
“Fuck, Jos. I’m not thinking about a present when you’re on top of me like that.” My cock hardens under the thin fabric of my cotton pants. She places a finger on my lips to shush me and leans across to open her drawer. She pulls out a small blue bag overflowing with green tissue paper.
Leaning down, she whispers in my ear, “Happy Birthday, Daddy.” She gets off and lays the present on my chest.
I quirk an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you were into that. Not really my thing, but we can work with it.”
She hits my chest. “Shut up. Open your present.”
I keep my eyes on her as I dig into the bag. I feel something plastic and look down at a white and blue Clearblue stick.
My heart stops.
I focus on the words lit up on the small window. Pregnant 3+.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking breathe.
I look at Josie next to me, who is carefully watching my reaction, but giving away nothing of her own emotions. She’s being careful just in case.
“Josie,” I say quietly. I position myself above her, bracing my forearms on either side of her. “Please tell me this isn’t a joke. Please tell me this is real.”
There’s so much emotion woven in my words. I’m terrified it may not be real. I’m excited at the thought it may be real. But most of all, I feel a surge of love I didn’t think could get any stronger.
She nods, eyes glistening. “It’s real. Not a joke.”
My hands are trembling as I reach out to touch her cheek. “When did you find out?”
“This morning.” Her voice is soft.
I want to fucking celebrate—go wild and crazy with excitement and happiness. But this is Josie. This is the girl who went six months with post-traumatic stress about having an abortion. Who saw her dead baby in her nightmares for months. The one who feared she would never deserve to be a mom or be around kids because of a choice she made when she was broken hearted.
But that doesn’t stop the flittering image of a little girl running in wild grass, dark, long hair flowing behind her as she giggles. Her pain doesn’t stop my longing. Does that make me an inconsiderate asshole?
“Are you okay with this? How are you feeling about it?” My voice is barely above a whisper. Scared of her answer and scared the hope I feel might crumble.
Her eyes shift away from mine, and my heart drops. I have to be okay with whatever she decides. I have to. I have to. I don’t want to.
“Seth,” she whispers, turning back to face me. “will you still love me if I get fat?”
I smash my lips together, trying to suppress a laugh and lean my forehead against hers. “I love you for many reasons, Josie. Carrying my baby probably tops the list. I’ll love you no matter what you look like.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” She exhales a reassured breath.
“Do you want this? Do you want to have a baby with me?” I dare to ask.
She reaches her hand up to rub my jaw. “I do. I really do want this. I never thought I’d want to have kids after what happened, but as soon as I took that pregnancy test all I wanted was for it to say yes.”
My hand grips her waist and I smile down at her, chest tightening. “We’re going to have a baby?”
“We’re going to have a baby,” she says, smiling up at me.
I look down at her naked body under me, and lean down to her stomach. “I’m going to be a dad?”
Josie’s hand weaves into my hair and I look up at her. “You’re going to be the best daddy a kid has ever had, Seth.”
I place multiple tender kisses across her flat tummy and move back up to look down at her. “Josie,” I whisper, my voice cracking on raw emotion. So much feeling. So much love. I clutch a hand to my heart. “I think my heart might burst.”
A tear slides out of Josie’s dark-blue eyes. “I think mine just did,” she whispers back.
I kiss her then. I pour my soul into her. Thanking her with my mouth and hands. Showing her how much this means to me. This gift of life. This baby she’s carrying, even though I know inside she’s terrified. I kiss her passionately and gently, kissing her lips and jaw and cheeks and neck and collar, sinking lower down her body and climbing the desire between us.
I lose count of how many times I whisper I love you and keep track of the nine, ten, eleven times she says the same back. Her body folds to every touch and every kiss. Her hands are electric shocks on my skin, ruining the synchronized rhythm of my heart and leaving my skin vibrating. H
er body reaches up for mine and my body melts into hers. I search her eyes, wanting to show her that she can trust me with her future.
“I’ll love you forever, Josie,” I whisper, my cheek pressed against hers, right before I push myself inside her. She gasps and arches her back. Our gazes lock and I keep my forehead against hers as I rock in and out of her tight body. Our moans and breath mesh. A beautiful sheen of sweat covers her skin, mixing with mine and igniting my hunger. The need I have to be one with her, to consume her in every way, grasps me with its claws, and I work Josie until she knows how much she means to me.
“Sethy,” she breathes, “I love you.” She pushes her breasts against my chest, and I wrap my arms around her back to hold her closer. She shivers and tightens around me, her body succumbing to the pleasure.
We’re one. Together on this. I reach my climax at the same time as her, holding her close as we moan our release into each other’s mouths.
We don’t stop our lips from roaming, but the fervor dissolves into lazy satisfaction. And for the first time in the year we’ve been together as a couple, we talk about babies and a future I wasn’t sure we’d ever have. For the first time in a week, I don’t think about how our life could be ruined by the news of her rapist being free.
All that matters right now is her and our growing baby.
Chapter 9
Josie
“I finished the drawing for your floating lanterns to be tattooed on you,” Seth says, tracing my bare shoulder where I said I wanted to get it. “Now you’re going to have to wait.”
I turn around and cuddle into his side. “You can’t get a tattoo while pregnant?”
“Oh, Josie.” Seth’s head falls back and sighs obnoxiously. “Please tell me you’re joking and this isn’t another debate about whether or not you should drink coffee while pregnant.”
“For the record, Seth, I called the doctor’s office about that and they said it’s fine. Stop doing your research on Google.” He grins at that. I take a deep breath before I speak again—his smile affects me too much. “I was joking. You don’t remember Brooke asking that last summer? Brandon about had a stroke.”
That's a Relief (Promises, Promises Book 3) Page 6
