by Ash, Nikki
Mila looks over her shoulder and moans. “Yes, please.” She slaps one hand against the shower wall and the other hand reaches for the bottle of baby oil. When she parts her legs, I notice a pink jewel shimmering between her ass cheeks.
“Did you put this in yourself?” I don’t know why I even ask. Of course she did. The woman has been insatiable the last eight months.
“Yes, now pull it out and fuck me please.” My fingers run along the curves of her ass and under her until I get to her sweet cunt. I stick a couple fingers in and find she’s already wet. Circling her clit a few times, I damn near bring her to an orgasm. I pull the plug out and she groans in pleasure. Squirting some baby oil into my hand, I coat my fingers and then push them into her puckered hole. Mila lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pushes her ass against my fingers.
My wife is needy as fuck these days, but you won’t find me complaining. Angling her ass just right, I push my dick into her slowly, and she once again pushes back. My hands grip her sides to hold her steady as I slowly pump in and out of her tight ass.
“Mason, please. Fuck me harder.”
“Not in the shower. I’m not taking a chance of you falling.”
“Mmmm,” she moans as she tries to get me to fuck her harder, deeper. I continue my steady rhythm, working us both up into a frenzy.
“Baby, massage that clit,” I demand.
“I already am.” Her breathing becomes labored, and I know she’s close. Her ass tightens, and she cries out in pleasure. I thrust several more times and then I’m coming as well. I pull out slowly, and she turns around, her face all smiles.
“Good morning,” she murmurs, making me laugh.
“Good morning.”
“I better get washed up before everyone gets here. Out you go.”
“Jesus, woman, you use me and abuse me and then kick me out when you’re done with me.” I rinse off and step out of the shower, wrapping my towel around myself.
I can hear Mila laughing through the door as she yells out, “Don’t be upset because I’m better at this game of catch and release than you.” I tug the door open and pull her into a searing kiss.
“Baby, the day you hooked me and reeled my ass in, you knew there was no getting rid of me. Ever.”
* * *
“Mason! Can you tie the balloons onto the fence, please?” Mila calls from the kitchen as I walk inside from lighting the barbeque in the backyard.
“Yes, ma’am.” I grab the balloons and bring them outside, tying them around the wooden fence next to the gate.
“Well, well,” Tristan says, coming up next to me. “The irony of this picture isn’t lost on me.”
“The irony of what picture?” I ask, double knotting the balloons so they don’t fly away.
“When I met Charlie and freaked out. You talked me down and then said you couldn’t ever imagine wanting the family or the kids or…how was it you worded it? The white picket fucking fence.” Tristan laughs. “Now look at you…the family, the kids…” He points to the fence. “The white picket fucking fence.”
I chuckle, remembering our conversation. “Yeah, I remember,” I admit. “But at the time I was telling the truth. I couldn’t picture it because Mila wasn’t in my life yet. The family, the kids, the white picket fence. I wouldn’t want any of it without her by my side.”
“I completely understand,” Tristan agrees. “Now, you ready to party?”
“Hell yeah.”
* * *
The music is pumping through the speakers in the backyard. Everybody is talking and laughing and eating. The kids are playing in the bounce house and on the waterslides. I spot Tristan and go over to him.
“Quite a gathering.”
“Hell yeah, it is. It should be. It’s like six parties in one.” Tristan ticks each celebration off with his fingers as he lists them. “Mila’s baby shower, Charlie’s baby shower, Mila’s birthday, Mother’s day, your housewarming party, a welcome to the neighborhood party.”
“Speaking of Mother’s Day, where’s your mom?” Charlie comes to Tristan’s side and asks, looking around for my mom, her hand rubbing up and down over her swollen belly.
A year and a half ago my mom found her passion: helping widowers and single moms get back on their feet after losing their spouse. When she asked what I thought, I told her it was a great idea, and so the charity, Keeping Kids Off the Streets was created. Since then, we’ve built a center for single parents and their children to go to. We offer services to help parents find income restricted housing and jobs, and we raise funds for kids who want to go to camp or participate in extracurricular activities their parents can’t afford.
“She’ll be here in a little while. She texted me that she’s meeting a single mom who needs help finding a safe place to stay. She’s getting them settled and then will be over.” And just as I finish my sentence I see my mom and Mila walking out the back door and toward me. My wife is wearing a beautiful black sundress with bright pink and blue flowers all over it, and she’s laughing at something my mom is saying as they approach us.
“How did it go?” I ask my mom as I pull Mila into my side.
“It went well. They’re safe.” She smiles softly and I think about how far we’ve come. Our relationship was strained at first, but with plenty of counseling, we worked through our issues. She’s become the mom I always prayed for as well as an amazing grandma to Alec. When Mila and I decided to purchase a bigger home for our growing family, my mom took over Mila’s townhouse.
“Mom! Can we have cake yet?” Lexi comes running over to ask Charlie.
“Not yet, sweet girl. We need to eat first.”
“I can’t wait to have cake!” Georgia yells. “Then we can finally know what the babies are.”
Charlie and Mila both giggle. When they found out they were both pregnant, only a month apart, they were ecstatic. They decided it would be fun to make everyone, including all of us, wait until their baby showers to reveal the sex of the babies. They had the bakery bake two cakes, one for each of them and inside each cake is the color of the gender.
“Our baby is a girl,” I insist, and Mila groans.
“Not this again.”
“You’ll see.” And I know it’s going to be a girl because after researching the topic, I found out having sex with the woman on top is the best way to ensure the baby is a girl.
“Three months of me riding you does not mean it’ll be a girl,” Mila whispers.
“Yes, it does, and once the cake shows pink, you’ll see I was right.”
* * *
MILA
“Okay! Charlie, your cake first,” Bella says, handing her the knife. Charlie does as she says and cuts through the cake. She plops the first piece onto the plate, and the cake is bright blue.
“It’s a boy!” Everyone yells.
“Oh no!” Lexi and Georgia groan at the same time. “But boys are gross!”
“No, we aren’t!” Alec says, defending the male race.
We all give Tristan and Charlie hugs of congratulations, and then Charlie says, “All right, Mila, your turn.” She hands me the knife she just used.
I slice down the cake and then lift the piece onto the plate, the pastel pink cake landing upright.
“I knew it!” Mason yells, fist bumping Tristan. “All those months you accused me of being lazy when I insisted you ride me. I told you!” Everyone cracks up laughing, and I hide my face in embarrassment.
“Ugh!” Alec groans. “I don’t want a sister. She’s going to be as annoying as them!” He points and glares toward Lexi, Georgia, Micaela, and Liza.
“Wait! I got it!” Lexi shouts excitedly. “We can take your girl, and we’ll give you our boy!”
“Yeah!” Georgia agrees. “We can trade.”
“Really?” Alec asks, sounding hopeful. “Mom, Mason, can we trade?”
“No!” Everyone yells through their laughter, and the kids all pout like trading siblings was seriously an option.
The
End!
Did you know Lexi, Georgia, Micaela, and Alec have their own stories?
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My Kind of Love
My Kind of Beautiful
My Kind of Perfect
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Prologue
Ryan
“So, that’s it? You’re just going to pack up and leave without saying a word?”
I stuff the last of my toiletries into my duffel bag and pull the strings to close it. After taking a calming breath, I set the bag on the ground and give my wife my full attention. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
Her brown eyes are filled with tears and her eyes are puffy from crying. I hate that my leaving is hurting her, but it’s out of my hands. Being in the military means leaving. She knew this when we married six years ago. When I left on my first deployment fresh out of high school. She knew it the following four times I was deployed after that.
“I guess I don’t want you to say anything.” Laura sighs, her eyes closing in hurt and frustration. “I want you to stay… I want you to want to stay.” She’s standing in the middle of my bedroom in her aqua-colored work scrubs, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She’s a beautiful, smart, educated woman, and I wish I could feel something more for her than friendship, but I don’t. I wish I could give her what she wants, say what she needs me to say, but I’ve never lied to her, and I’m not about to start now.
When I don’t say anything, she opens her eyes and several tears fall. “I can’t do this anymore,” she whispers. “I love you so much, Ryan, but you’ll never love me back.”
“You know I love you,” I argue, but the conviction in my voice isn’t there because she isn’t referring to that kind of love. The love I felt for her in high school when I asked her to marry me. We were eighteen and about to graduate. Foster care fucked her over and she was on her own, on the streets. She was getting mixed up with the wrong crowd, and I couldn’t let it happen. She was my best friend—still is my best friend—and I refused to let circumstance destroy her. So, I asked her to marry me. Being my wife meant she would be taken care of. She would have a roof over her head, food in her belly, health insurance. She would be able to go to school and be safe.
She said yes, and after signing a prenup—something my dad insisted on—we said our I do’s. Three months later, I shipped out on my first deployment.
“I’ll always be grateful for what you did for me,” she says, taking my hands in hers. “I don’t even want to imagine where I would be if you hadn’t saved me.” She presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth, and I will myself to feel something, anything for my wife that amounts to more than friendship. But there’s nothing more.
“It’s because of you I was able to get my degree, be able to provide for myself,” she says, her lips upturning into a sad smile.
“You got more than a degree,” I joke. “You’re a fucking doctor.” I’m so damn proud of this woman. She came from a home similar to the one I was born into—drug addicts and neglect—but unlike me, who had Bentley and Kayla there to adopt me, before I was even old enough to understand how shitty life could be, she had no one—except me.
Laura laughs, a single tear sliding down her cheek. “A nurse practitioner,” she corrects with an eye roll.
“Same shit.” I shrug, wiping the tear from her face. I hate to see her cry. All I want is for her to be happy.
“I thought over time you would love me the way I love you,” she says, steering the conversation back on track. “I thought you would come home from being away and miss me and want me.” She swallows thickly. “But you never did. You’re away more than you’re home.”
“Tell me how to fix it,” I offer. I never set out to be a shitty husband. My intentions were honorable, but I was young and didn’t know what I was getting myself into. My dad warned me not to marry her. He said he would allow me to use some of the money from my trust fund to set her up. But throwing money at her felt ungenuine. Marrying her meant giving her a family, only in the end, I guess I never really gave her that either.
“That’s just it,” she says. “You can’t fix it. You didn’t do anything wrong. You can’t make yourself feel a certain way. And I’m starting to think the reason why you keep volunteering to go on these tours is to stay away from me.”
I open my mouth to argue, but she shakes her head. “Ryan, five tours in six years isn’t normal. I looked it up. You’re choosing to go. Most husbands don’t want to go, but you can’t wait to.”
She’s right, but it’s not because of her. It’s all I know. It’s what makes sense to me. Growing up—once I was adopted by my parents—I was raised in a loving household. My parents are married and in love, and are damn good parents. My older sisters, Faith and Chloe, never treated me like the annoying little brother. I went to the best schools and was given everything I could ever want.
But I never felt like I truly fit in. Something deep inside me craved something more. I can’t explain it. It was like my body and mind were at war with each other, both on the losing side. I wondered if maybe it was genetic, like my bio parents were broken, so I was too. So, I did the only thing I could think of—I ran—used the military as a way to escape and not have to deal with reality. While serving, I took classes and received my engineering degree. I worked my way up the ranks, proved myself, and eventually became a sergeant in the Special Forces. When I’m at work, I feel like everything just clicks, like I have a purpose.
“When I get back, we can talk,” I tell her, unsure what else to say. I have to be at the base in less than twenty minutes. I have men who depend on and need me.
“When you get back, I won’t be here.” She doesn’t say the words with malice, but as a matter-of-fact. We’re married, but everything we have is technically mine, and the prenup protects me completely. The cars, the house, the money—everything is mine. She never asked to be on anything, and I always just handled it all.
“You can have the house. It’s paid off. I’ll have the deed transferred to you.” It’s only right. She’s lived here since we got married and moved to Carson City. She’s decorated and furnished it the way she likes, and it’s only five minutes from the hospital she works at. “And your car too, of course. You can have that.”
She nods once, her lips forming a flat line. “And what about our marriage? I would like to find someone…” she says slowly. “Someone who wants the same things as me. I want to start a family. And I would never cheat on you.” I know she wouldn’t. Laura is as loyal as they come. She’s the perfect wife, and I fucking suck for not being able to love her like she deserves.
“I’ll have someone draw up the papers for us to sign.” The last thing I want is for her to be stuck with me for another year while I’m gone. She deserves everything life has to offer, and I hate that I can’t be the one to give it all to her.
She nods again and then wraps her arms around my neck, hugging me tight. “One day you’re going to fall in love and you won’t want to run away,” she whispers into my ear. “You’ll want to be with the woman you love. But first, you have to stop running so you can meet her.”
She backs up slightly and grants me a soft smile, then kisses my cheek. “Be safe, Ryan.”
Chapter One
Micaela
“I can’t believe you’re graduating tomorrow.” Lexi, my best friend and pseudo cousin, takes a hit off the joint she brought with her as a graduation gift and passes it to me.
I take a small hit, since I’m not usually one to get high, and nod. “This will be you next year.” I pass the joint to Georgia, my other pseudo cousin and best friend. “Both of you, right?”
“Yep,” Lexi says, speaking for her younger sister like she often does. “Georgia took extra classes and we’ll be walking across the stage together. We’ll both be free from educational hell in twelve months.”
Without taking a hit, Georgi
a passes the joint to Lexi. “I’d hardly call it hell. We go to a private school that costs more a year than most pay for their house.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “Our lunch is catered and includes items like sushi and Thai, and we have a Starbucks… an actual Starbucks in the quad.”
I laugh at that, but don’t argue. She’s not wrong. Lexi and Georgia live in Los Angeles and attend one of the most prestigious private schools on the West Coast. Similar to the one I attend here in Las Vegas… well, did attend. As of tomorrow at ten o’clock I will officially be a high school graduate. And come August I’ll be a freshman at the University of Las Vegas.
“Semantics.” Lexi takes another hit. “I can’t wait to be done with high school. It’s such a waste. I don’t need a diploma to do what I want to do.”
“You need one to go to college,” Georgia points out.
Lexi rolls her eyes. “Maybe I won’t go.” She shrugs, making Georgia and me laugh. We all know Lexi is all talk. She’s a daddy’s girl through and through, and Tristan Scott has made it clear a college education is important, which means Lexi Scott will be getting one, whether she likes it or not.
“Go where?” a male voice booms, making us shriek in shock. Lexi tosses the joint off the balcony, and I jump to my feet to make sure my parents aren’t down there. When I see the coast is clear, I spin around and fly into Ian’s strong arms.
“I can’t believe you’re here!” I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me up, twirling us around. The fresh scent of his cologne has me sighing in contentment. I haven’t seen him in person in over five months, since Christmas. Sure, we video chat and message, but nothing is like being in his arms.
I pepper kisses all over his face while he walks us into my room. He sits on my bed, leaning against the headboard, with me straddling his lap. Lexi and Georgia follow us in, but don’t sit, instead heading straight for the door.
