by Hazel Grace
I can’t help but regret him not having my DNA. That I wasn’t there when he and his sister were born.
I suck as a human being.
I’m hoping I have something in me that can be somewhat of a role model, at least.
“He was the smallest and had a hard time regulating body temperature. He wasn’t eating that well either at first.”
“Probably homesick.” Emmy curiously glances over at me. “That’s how I feel when I’m not inside you.”
Emmy snorts then begins to chuckle. “Will you hold him for a minute?”
“Absolutely.” She shifts her weight and places Alaric in my waiting arms. Then she rises just to promptly turn around.
“Bishop?”
“Yeah?”
“The answer is yes.”
“Yes?”
She tucks a piece of her dark hair behind her ear. “I made these babies yours when I named them. Everyone else is nixed at this point. You’re holding your son. I don’t want another day to go by without Atlas and Alaric having a father they can look up to. I know it’s not conventional, and it’s fucking weird but…I fucked up by dating him and sleeping with him. I made a bad choice. I should’ve—“ The rest of her sentence is lodged in her throat, and she begins to tremble in a growing sob.
“Emmy—“ I begin to rise from the couch, but her hand shoots out to stop me.
“Please…let me get this out. I don’t ever want to talk about it again after today.” I nod and she takes it as a sign to continue when she can steady herself about to hyperventilate.
It’s hard to watch. I crave to hold and comfort her. To tell her shit is going to be fine because I won’t let Alexander do another thing to her or the twins but I give her what she needs.
She doesn’t want to bring it up again and honestly, I don’t wish to either. We need to end this and move on.
“I lied before and said they weren’t yours but I didn’t know at the time. I wanted them to be. But I thought you were so detached from ever loving me that how could you possibly love a baby? Then I got two. Then I prayed that they were yours again only if it was to have you in them. Then they weren’t. I honestly wanted to die a little. I think I did. I’m afraid a monster will develop in my kids and there will be a part of him still there that I can’t control.”
“Don’t think like that. We will raise these kids with love and everything they need. We break monsters. We’ll know one if we see one.”
“But what if they do? What if Alaric becomes—“
“A good man? One that respects women because his mama would beat his ass if he doesn’t. That Atlas will have a big mouth on her but she’ll demand to be equal and treated as such because her mother also ran with a group of boys who used to take bets on who could drive you to lose your shit the fastest.”
Emmy’s eyes narrow. “Are you fucking serious?”
“Oh, yeah—“ I lean back on the couch and look down at Alaric. “—I’ll teach you everything I know.”
Emmy growls and falls slowly to her knees, prying herself between my thighs. “He’s good. I want him to stay that way.”
“He can’t be a pussy either. I’ll raise him as my dad raised me. He was a good man. I would’ve been a better human if he lived longer.”
“I’d like to know more about him,” she replies. “When you’re ready to talk about him.”
“Anything you wanna know, it’s yours.”
“So…you’ll take us all? Atlas, Alaric and I, want to be Bishops. A family. And we all wanna call you ‘Daddy’.”
My cock is the only thing that responds because my brain doesn’t form an answer, only listens and repeats what she said.
You’re holding your son.
We want to be Bishops.
Emmy’s soft brown eyes destroy and create me. A tightness forms in my chest and something shifts. I think it was my damn heart that just Grinched out and grew two sizes.
Emmy just gave my entire life meaning.
Something I’ve been searching for since I was fourteen.
“Yeah, baby,” I mutter as I lean in to kiss her lips with Alaric still in my arms. Kid better get used to it. “I want you all.”
My lips find hers and my girl is already wanting more. She sucks on my tongue and teases me to drop the kid and take her on the floor.
Alaric’s tiny leg kicks my chest, probably telling me to stop mauling his mother. A rumble forms from my chest and I disgruntledly pry from Emmy’s sweet mouth.
“Alaric isn’t a fan of public displays,” I tell her as she glances down at him.
“I’m going to hate every single one of your girlfriends.” I chuckle and pull her against my chest.
“Be nice.”
“Mhm.” She gives me a quick kiss. “I’m just foreshadowing.”
“Honey, I’m home!” Mills’s voice kills the moment and my cock’s salute when I hear the door close behind him. “Dude, what did I say?”
“Shut up,” Emmy moans as she uses my knees to push herself to stand. “I’m allowed to kiss—“
“Kiss, yes.” Mills throws his keys on his dining room table. “Fucking, no.”
“Do you see any fucking?” She gestures behind her to Alaric and me on the couch. “You goofball.”
“It’s your man I don’t trust.” My brows knit when Emmy steals a glance at me, her lips smirked and she gives me a wink.
Of course, I’m always the bad guy and will continue to play it so why wouldn’t she use it to her advantage the little shit.
“Kyson is coming by to grab that will,” Mills announces. “I’m ordering pizza y’all stayin’, right?”
“Yeah,” I say. “Put pineapple on Emmy’s side.”
“No!” She looks at me like I just told him to assassinate a bunch of puppies. “That’s unAmerican as fuck.”
“Who the hell said that?” Mills retorts like she’s crazy.
She is crazy.
It’s not a life-or-death situation to put fruit on pizza. But Emmy won’t touch the shit if she sees it and she could be starving.
“Take a poll, Mills,” Emmy counters. “You know what I like.” My alpha male, don’t-look-at-my-shit persona begins to come out but I shove it back down to play nice.
That and I have a two-month-old in my arms.
The only thing Mills needs to know about my girl is that she doesn’t like pineapple on her pizza and loathes mayo—which he still purposely puts on her sandwiches when he wants to be a dick.
Mills comes to stand in front of me and holds out his arms before wiggling his fingers. “Come to Uncle Mills,” he sing-songs. “I know you missed me.”
“He didn’t,” I retort. “And fuck off.”
“The possessive father doesn’t trump the uncle, Bish. Keep up, old man.”
“I’m thirty-three.” Mills makes an exaggerated smile like he doesn’t want to break my heart and confess that it’s the new eighty. “And you’re bugging me, get fucked.”
Mills slowly glances over at Emmy going through her phone and my heel comes up to strike him right in the shin.
“Fuck,” he roars, hopping on his good leg.
“What happened?” Emmy strides over to the both of us and we both reply with “nothing”.
She steers her gaze back and forth, clearly aware we’re not gonna rat the other out for childish shit, and goes back to where she came.
“How is she?” Emmy’s fake baby daddy mutters before plopping down next to me on the couch.
“Shitty. Sometimes I think she’s about to break but she always holds on.”
“The kids.“ Mills pulls out his cell to make it look like we’re not talking about anything serious—I never said he was stupid—and mindlessly plays Candy Crush. “She’s afraid that she’s going to let the kids down.”
“Should we let her do this? Should we just handle this ourselves? I don’t know what’s right anymore.”
“She’d be pissed but she’d obviously get over it. She might need the closur
e though.”
I watch Emmy pour herself a glass of lemonade. “Killing the parent of her—“
“That ship sailed a long time ago,” Mills retorts. “I was there when she named them. How effortlessly it was. She named that kid in your arms after the love of her life. The father of her children. Fuck a DNA test.”
“We can’t hide that forever.” I squeeze Alaric closer to me, fear of him hating me down the road a definite possibility in the grand scheme of things.
What do I do, wait for him to be eighteen and spring it on him? Do we wait for him to ask? Do we tell him he died or that we really did murder him because the latter is fucked up and then what will he think of me?
“If my dad tried to kill my mom, I’d fucking hate him. There would be no thinking about it for me. Just don’t be a dick.”
“Nah, I save that just for you.”
“Lucky me, and I don’t even get off on it.” Mills kicks his leg over his knee. “So we’re in agreement to trust her?”
I shake my head. “I don’t trust her not to break but I trust her anger.”
I went to go pick up food while Emmy took a shower and got into her pajamas. I don’t know why she’d bother, I’m just going to tear them into shreds anyway.
She teased me enough at Mills’s, sat in my lap while Kyson came over and read over Alexander’s will, and purposely grinded on my hard dick.
I didn’t want to grab food, but she told me she was starving again and who am I to tell her no when she wants something.
Especially if it’s me and my last name that she wants to take. And I had Armageddon to protect her when I was gone.
Unlocking the deadbolts to her apartment door in the middle of a shithole, I place the bags on her kitchen counter and pull down two plates, cups, and grab some forks.
“Ems, I’m back,” I call out, setting us up in front of the flat-screen TV that sits on a shitty ass stand. It’d take a single hard stomp on the floor to get that thing to tumble over.
“Be right out,” Emmy calls back.
My impatient ass just can not wait, and when I step inside her one-bedroom, she’s pulling a shirt over her head and only standing in black lace panties.
But it’s not the lace or the shirt that barely covers her whole torso but the hair that makes me gape at her like a virgin who just saw his first pair of tits.
No, it’s the beautiful whitish-blonde locks that now cup her sweet features.
My Emmy.
How she looked before all this shit happened. The affectionate and addicting Emmy Lou Rhodes—soon to be Bishop, which the timeline on that just went up.
Her full lips lift in a smile. “Hey.”
“You dyed your hair.”
Her lips grow wider. “Yeah.”
I abolish all the space between us and hike her frame up to mine. She habitually wraps her legs around my middle, and everything just feels more like us.
“You like?” A rumble of approval buzzes from my chest, and Emmy cups my face with her small hands. “It was just hair.”
“I don’t know, the dark hair fucked me up a little like I was screwing a lookalike of your or some shit.”
Her mouth twitches. “Damn, was she good?”
“She teased a lot.”
Emmy encases her arms around my neck and comes in dangerously close to my mouth. “What a bitch.”
“I wouldn’t say that. She had her perks.”
“Yeah?” Her brown eyes skate to my lips. “Did she kiss better than me?” I shake my head to her ridiculous question that I’m playing stupidly along with. “Did you eat her pussy?”
“Emmy,” I warn. “Shut up.”
She undoes her legs from me and I place her back down to stand.
Bending over, she takes her panties and pushes them down. Then rounding my body, she swipes something off her dresser and begins to leave the room.
“Follow me,” she chimes, awarding me with a glorious view of her naked ass as she strides inside the kitchen and family room.
She props herself up on one of the stools and turns around, gazing at me with those big browns and soft skin.
Opening her legs, she invites me in to step closer and—let’s be real—I’m not gonna turn that down.
“Are we eating naked, Emmy?” She doesn’t respond, pushing herself up her stool to stand on it so she can sit on the kitchen counter. “Or am I eating you?”
I place both palms on either side of her and she shivers when I lean in.
“Does okay work now for you taking your time with my ass?” She exhibits a bottle of lube, and my whole body ignites.
I incline closer. Our lips are only but a lick or brush away, facing each other to see who may break or resist first.
I do, my mouth eating and relishing in the woman that has been through hell and dragged me along with her.
She works the button of my jeans as I caress my tongue with hers. My cock springs free, and she’s already leaning back for me to fuck her.
“Hold on, little Ems—“ I haul her forward and within my personal space. “—be patient.”
She shakes her head like a brat. “No, thanks. You made me wait earlier.”
“I told you about your best friend. He’s an asshole.”
Emmy rolls her eyes then gives a soft jerk to my dick when her palm wraps around it.
Cold as shit lubricant finds my cock then Emmy’s hand that begins to work down my length.
“I want to fuck your ass until you scream for all the bullshit you did.” I shake my head. “But how—”
“Do it.” Emmy’s tone hardens, turned on and fucking relentless.
I step forward, the tip of my shaft guided by Emmy’s hand to graze the spot she wants me. “You’re trying to fucking kill me.”
“Are you going to thrust or…”
“And she rushes me now too,” I announce to the room, feeling the tight ring of her bottom. “Come here.”
She gets closer to my face like a good little student and looks at me, waiting for her next instruction so she can get her extra credit.
And everything about Emmy’s ass is extra. Like, as in the extra fries you get or the one onion ring that escapes into your bag.
Except hers, you can eat without getting tired of it. Hers I want to eat, but she wants other things—deep shit.
Slowly I begin to drive forward, feeling her tense a little from the intrusion.
“Remember when I fucked you under your cute little yellow dress and Ledger was less than ten yards away?” She bobs her head. “What did you say to me?”
“I said a lot of things,” she breathes as I work her to open up for me.
“I stuck my thumb up here.” I sink in deeper and Emmy groans in discomfort, and I think pleasure. “You liked when I fucked both your holes at the same time.”
My thumb finds her already wet clit and Emmy’s jaw drops a tad. I match my rhythm with both my actions and one of her hands seizes my bicep. “Bish.”
“Mhm?”
“Keep doing that,” she begs softly. I grab the plastic bottle of lube and pour more on my dick, not giving a shit about the mess.
“I could get used to this, Mrs. Bishop,” I recite, balling her shirt around my fist and hovering my mouth over hers.
“Don’t get soft on me now, Bish. You said you didn’t want our son to be a pussy.” I deliver a punishing kiss, and my cock sinks deeper into her ass, getting her to grow more taunt but moans at the same time. “There’s my brute.”
I must hit something spectacular for her because she scoots closer so I can take her deeper.
“Please, Bish.”
“I don’t want to hurt—“
“I want to come.” She looks between us as if watching me fuck her is going to do it. She’s beginning to get into her delirious stage where it appears she’s just here for the high and where she authorizes me to take her like an animal.
I’m not gonna lie; it’s hot.
Emmy is that girl next door that you
daydream of dirtying up. A fucking sweet dream that turns into a filthy illusion of torment and every single dark fantasy you’ve ever had. This woman allows me to possess her in any which way I want, which makes this all worse.
I just want more.
All the time.
My girl and our kids and a life without having to watch our backs anymore.
We both fucked up.
We both were scared.
I’m absolutely intimidated, but she’s everything I want and it’s never abated.
It never became Camilla where it became a faded memory.
Emmy breathes life into me.
And her pussy keeps me wanting to give her everything.
But her ass though—yo, I’m gonna become a pussy to every fucking demand this woman wants because I’m just that infatuated.
Gonna need to keep that on the down-low.
I lace my hand through Emmy’s newly dyed hair, relishing in how she’s back to somewhat normal on the outside. The inside is going to take some work, but I can make her delve through those and explode them.
“Deeper,” she orders through a snarl, still watching me fuck her and play with her clit.
“Look at me,” I counteroffer as I accommodate her command. She does, and I fall in love with her all over again.
Her eyes idolize me when I don’t deserve it. She takes me in like I’m everything and she can’t break herself from the spell that was cast on us.
“You’re gonna come and I’m going to watch.” She nods, mouth open from panting and riding out what I’m putting down. “Where do you want it?”
“Want what?”
“My come.” She mutters a shit and props her body back with her palms, giving me a new angle and a better look at her body. “Keep those eyes on me.”
“Yes, Daddy,” she purrs, creating my balls to strain and gear up.
“Daddy,” I repeat in a pleasured grunt. “Baby, this is not the time to talk about more kids, but…I want more.”
“More?” She lifts a brow. “Don’t we have enough now?”
I shake my head because if I’m being honest, I want a whole Brady Bunch of kids. “Hence my question.”
“Both.”
“Both? Inside both of…”
