by S. C. Adams
“You really think you’re up for this?” I’m still skeptical. “You have a lot going for you. You’ve got your big clubhouse and shop where all the hotties in Miami can do anything you ask them to.”
He squeezes my hands firmly. “You’re what matters to me. All of this is new to me—relationships, babies… it’s a lot. But I know how I feel.”
“And how do you feel…?”
He pulls me in and kisses me. I touch his face, enamored by him.
“I think I might be falling in love with you,” says Damon.
“Really?” I gasp.
“I promise,” he says. “I’ve known it for a while now, I think.”
The strange thing is, I think that I’ve known it for a while, too.
“Don’t say something like that and not mean it, though,” I say, tears forming in my eyes.
He kisses me again, holding me close to him in embrace, ensuring that our lips stay locked and bonded. I never want to be away from him.
I feel his heartbeat again. His rhythm is one that I’ve grown quite accustomed to and fond of.
“I’m falling in love with you, too, Damon.”
19
Damon
As I kiss her lips and caress her smooth, creamy skin, I know that our love is real. I’m high off it, unable to contain my feelings a second longer now that all is revealed. I have nothing to hide, and it’s only going to get better.
I caress the back of her head adoringly, savoring every second I hold her to me. Our tongues explore each other’s mouths to their fullest extent. She tastes so sweet, her flavor even sweeter on the tongue now that I know it isn’t fleeting. Despite knowing that I’ll never lose her again, it doesn’t keep me from holding her close.
We can’t keep our hands or mouths off each other. Somehow, we end up going from the couch to the bed—I barely notice, I’m so caught up—and before I know it, we’re stripping off each other’s clothes.
I look at her naked body, seeing her differently. It’s not just the way the moonlight hits her or the fact that she told me she was falling in love with me. It’s knowing that she is actually carrying our child… I’m overwhelmed. I stare down at her belly, trying to picture the creation that’s cooking in her oven.
I slowly reach my hands down to her belly. “May I…?”
She nods. I touch her stomach—her baby bump—rubbing my fingers delicately across her flesh. I’m not sure what I’m expecting to feel—the baby’s heartbeat or maybe even a kick—but what I do feel is simply indescribable.
“I can’t believe my baby’s in there,” I mutter.
“Believe it,” says Noelle. “You’re going to be a daddy.”
“If you want a daddy tonight, baby, all you have to do is ask.”
I kiss her all over her body—I’m careful to avoid her wet pussy, for now, which drives her crazy—ravishing her, while also being as careful as possible.
“You don’t have to be too gentle,” she says suggestively. “Don’t be afraid to give it to me hard.”
I kiss along her thighs, slowly making my way to her juicy center. She is soaked, glistening and inviting. I lick around the edges, trying a sample of her delectable filling. She flails, trying to reach my head to ensure I stay right where I am. She’s enjoying herself too much to put in too much of her strength.
“Let me take care of you,” I say into her lap.
I don’t want her working too hard anyway. Plus, I enjoy being in control. I want her to know, beyond any doubt, that I am her man. I am going to feast on her pussy until we’re both entirely satisfied. I would have been fine if she just wanted me to stay down there. I’m growing so hard for her.
My hands travel up her body while I eat. She moans, muttering my name quietly the more turned on she becomes. I massage her breasts, rubbing her nice, soft nipples in my fingers until they become nice and hard for me to pinch.
“Careful…” Noelle whispers.
It doesn’t occur to me, at first, why I should be extra careful with her breasts. Then, it hits me: these breasts aren’t just for me anymore. I would have to share them with our little one someday soon.
I lick and suck on her nipples just enough—just to see what I can do—somewhat curious for what her milk tastes like. The feeling of her nipples in my mouth, combined with her long moans and constant dry humping, is enough to finally drive me crazy, as well.
I get on top of her, angling myself for entry. She grabs hold of my throbbing dick and guides it slowly, but deeply, into her wet cunt. She feels so tight… I ride her with force, thrusting at a variety of speeds to drive her wild.
“I adore you,” I say into her ear as I continue to ravish her.
“What did I ever do to deserve a man like you?” Noelle says in ecstasy.
“It takes a real woman to bring out a real man. You’re unlike anyone I’ve ever been with. I’m so addicted to you.”
The passion is so intense, it’s hard to discern when one orgasm begins and ends. I want it to last as long as possible, yet she’s more wet and tight than ever. The buildup is fierce, and my load is charging greatly. I want to give it to her, but I don’t want to have to wait a second to recharge and reinsert. She is too fucking hot for her own good.
I fuck her in multiple positions—I get her on all fours so that I can fuck her nice and hard from behind. My hands move all around, pulling her hair, smacking her nice firm ass, tenderly playing with her tits, caressing her baby bump… I actually get her to squirt by firmly pressing my thumb into her clit as I drill into her from behind. She exclaims, unaware of the power that comes from just my simple touch.
“Fuck, that felt so fucking good,” she moans, laughing as she collapses on the bed. “You’re incredible, Damon…”
But I’m not done. Her eyes widen further, and she bites her lip nervously, curious as to what else I have in store for her. I grab on to her ankles and pull her down to the edge of the bed. She opens up wider, aware of her incoming visitor. My shaft is still moist with her juices, and my balls surge like a volcano, itching to burst.
I was good until she begins to touch herself. I love watching her play with her own breasts, the way she has to rub her clit furiously because no amount of pleasure is enough.
She cums so many times that I lose count. When the volcano does finally erupt, it brings forth a considerable amount of magma, my thick cum filling her crevice.
I lean down so as to kiss her again and hold her even closer than I already am. She moans after each kiss, trembling beneath me.
“Did you cum?” she asks.
“Definitely,” I laugh triumphantly. “I don’t think I need to ask about you…”
She blushes. “That was… you were… Thank you.”
I laugh before kissing her nose. “You’re welcome, I suppose.”
“I think we came together,” she supposes.
“I think we did. That may, quite possibly, have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”
“Don’t keep saying things you can’t take back,” says Noelle. “You’re going to make me want more.”
“If you want more, all you have to do is ask,” I say as I plant more kisses on her sweaty body. She runs her hands up my drenched back, holding me like I’m her most prized possession.
We lie together in bed, cuddling and spooning. Even after everything, we can both still feel the tension.
“So… when are you going to find out the sex of the baby?” I ask.
“The doctor told me I could probably find out in about two months,” she answers. “I don’t know if I want to find out that early, though… I kind of want it to be a surprise.”
“It can be however you want it to be,” I muse. “Just know that I want to be here with you through all of it. I want to go with you to your doctor’s appointments. I don’t want you to go through this by yourself.”
“I would love it if you came with me,” she says shyly. “I can’t believe you really want to be so active like this…”
“Okay,” she says, blushing even redder. “Now I really don’t believe you! How am I your ‘dream girl’? You’re talking nonsense.”
“I’m speaking the truth. This is all incredibly exciting. It’s scary, but I’m looking forward to becoming a parent with you. It’s a rush.”
“Do you really think you’re up for this?” she asks. “I thought most guys would just want to run, regardless of the situation.”
“You and this baby are all that matters now.” I touch her belly again. “I’m not going anywhere. And if you wanted to go somewhere with me, I’m not opposed to talking about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“We could move into a bigger house, if you wanted,” I say. “We can go anywhere.”
“You’d be willing to leave your club?”
“I’m willing to do whatever is best for our baby. What do you think?”
We snuggle into the night, thinking about future and wondering what would come up next for us.
Epilogue
Noelle
Eight months later.
On January 28, 2017, Jamison Alan Abrams was born. Eight pounds, two ounces, completely healthy, gorgeous (he looks just like his dad), and surprisingly quiet. I was in labor for thirty hours—which felt like sixty—and I’d gotten so big that I was worried I might actually be delivering twins.
Once Jamison was born, Damon and I never wanted to let him out of our sight. We were likely the most demanding and nervous parents in the whole hospital that day. Once we were discharged, we went straight home to show him his first home.
We decided that it would be best to stay in Miami. I was hopeful that my agency was going to call me soon like they’d promised and offer me the chance to return to work. I was going to stay patient for the time being. I didn’t even need distractions, because I knew that finally having the baby was going to require most of my attention and time.
Damon asked me to move in with him once I started my third trimester, reasoning that I was basically living with him already. We remodeled the living room and completely changed his private office, morphing it into the baby’s nursery in preparation for the addition to our family.
Damon and I walk around the house, giving Jamison a tour of the place. I’m aware that a newborn baby would likely not even absorb it all like this, but it’s still fun. We end our tour by showing him his room and putting him in his crib. He only cries for a few seconds before passing out right where I put him.
“What a beautiful son we have,” Damon says as we watch him sleep.
“He definitely is his daddy’s boy,” I say, smoothing Jamison’s hair. “He’s adorable. I don’t want to leave him.”
I could watch Jamison sleep and breathe until he wakes up. Eventually, Damon takes me by the hand and walk us out.
“He’ll be fine,” he whispers. “Let’s let him sleep.”
We go to the living room, crashing on the couch. I lay my head down on his chest, resting after the strenuous week I’ve had.
“You can sleep, too, if you’d like,” he says.
“I’m exhausted,” I tell him. “But I shouldn’t sleep now. I won’t want to wake up.”
“I can look after Jamison while you nap,” he insists. “Why don’t you go and rest? You’ll want to be properly rested before the party, won’t you?”
I sigh, having totally forgotten about the party that Sabrina is throwing for the three of us at the clubhouse. I’m grateful and appreciative of what she’s doing, but I’m not sure how I’m going to be able to stay awake after the countless hours of interrupted sleep over the past couple of weeks. All I want to do is sleep, take care of Jamison, and relax at home with my man.
“He has your eyes,” Damon comments.
I smile. “He looks like you in every other conceivable way.”
“He’s the most beautiful baby in all of Miami. And I’m not just saying that because he’s mine.”
“You do sound a little biased.” I chuckle. “But you’re right. He is the cutest baby in Miami. Maybe even the state of Florida.”
“Fuck it. How about the world?”
I look up into Damon’s eyes, finding myself getting lost in them as I often do. He is more content and happy than I’ve ever seen him.
“What are you thinking?” I ask him.
“I’m thinking about my son,” he answers. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m afraid I might be falling in love with him.”
“Oh, then that’ll actually save us an awkward conversation,” I joke. “Because I was going to tell you at the hospital, but I didn’t want to upset you—I think I might be in love with someone else, too. But he looks exactly like you, so I hope you won’t take it too personally.”
“Except the eyes,” he says again with a wink.
We snuggle quietly for a few minutes, processing it all.
“The house suddenly feels completely different,” I note.
“That’s what happens when you bring children into the home,” says Damon. “It’s not just about us anymore. There’s another being that breathes life living under our roof. And he came from us. It’s kind of crazy to think that just a few days ago, it was completely different.”
“We were just kids. What did we know?”
“You don’t just love your children,” says Damon. “You fall in love with them. Our friends are throwing us a party to celebrate our baby boy. Pretty soon, those same friends will get so tired of hearing us babble on and on about him. Jamison is our world now.”
He kisses my forehead, and almost instantly, I’m falling asleep in his warm embrace.
Damon and I make it to the clubhouse, where we’re greeted by Sabrina and every member of the club. Drinks and food are out, music is pumping, and the whole room is there to revolve around and celebrate the baby boy. There isn’t enough of him to go around.
Things are slightly awkward with Kace and Sabrina at first. They had gotten into a huge argument and hadn’t seen each other in months, and Jamison’s party is the first time they’ve seen each other since. However, it doesn’t take long before we all become painfully aware that both of them are missing from the party, unable to able to be found at some point.
Damon is tense for much of the party, and I can’t understand why. Then, once Sabrina and Kace reemerge to join the party, I understand.
“First off, I want to thank everyone for coming today,” Damon says to the room. “Noelle and I are extremely grateful and happy that you guys put this shindig together for us. We don’t know how to thank you.”
I stand beside him, cradling our sleeping son while he speaks. He leans over and kisses Jamison on his forehead.
“Today is a special day for a lot of reasons,” Damon continues. “We’re not just here for loved ones to come together to welcome the new addition to the family—”
The Rolling Heads hoot and holler at this proclamation.
“—we’re also here because I want to expand the family even more,” he continues. “I wanted all of you here to see…”
He clears his throat, turning his full attention on me.
“Noelle,” he says to me. “I don’t just want to be Jamison’s dad. I don’t just want you to be my roommate and girlfriend. I want this to be right, so…”
I gasp, covering my mouth with my free hand as Damon gets down on one knee, smiling his signature smile.
“I want to be your husband,” he says. “I want you to be my wife. Will you please marry me, Noelle?”
Wordlessly, Sabrina slides over to take Jamison away from me temporarily. It’s now just me, Damon, and the question. Tears of joy fill my eyes.
Then, he shows it to me: the engagement ring he made just for me. The diamond is thick and stunning and shines brightly in the box.
I hold out my hand without needing to c
onsider. “Yes.”
“Yes, you’ll marry me?” Damon asks.
I get on my knees to join him. He slides the ring on my finger.
“Yes, Damon… yes, of course I’ll marry you.”
The room erupts into applause before the ring is even totally on. We pull each other into a sweet embrace and share a long, passionate kiss in front of everyone. He lifts me into the air, making me truly feel like a little girl.
The crowd continues to go wild. The music gets louder, and the drinks are being poured at a rapid rate.
“You’ve been without booze for nine months!” Sabrina says while pouring me a shot. “It’s time to really celebrate!”
I don’t overdo the drinking, not wanting to be too inebriated while I’m still learning the basics of becoming a mother. I know there will be plenty of times to go wild again in the future, but I’m too focused on my boys.
After the party, we keep it going with just Kace and Sabrina back at the house. We keep it relatively quiet so that Jamison can sleep peacefully. Unfortunately, as a result, I become way more tired as the night evolves, and I check out way earlier than I want.
When I wake the next day, Kace and Sabrina are still at the house, having crashed the night before. They end up crashing even longer since we’re in no hurry to kick them out.
In fact, they agree to do a little babysitting for us so that we can have an evening alone, just the two of us. Neither Damon nor I have any real ideas on what we want to do. We figure we’ll drive around the city on his motorcycle until something jumps out at us.
We cruise down the coast, not looking at potential places to eat or things to do but instead taking in the gorgeous sunset and the wonders it’s doing to the Florida sky.
“Do you think we could just chill and watch the sunset on the beach?” I ask him, hopeful.
He drives the Yamaha off the highway and parks right by the sand. We take off our boots and walk hand in hand toward the ocean.
