Attainment (The Temptation Series) (6 page)

“What else are you gonna play?” Alexis asks.

I turn and watch her fiddling with some of the soft toys in
the play area, her hand gently caressing a pale blue teddy bear’s head. She
places it back in the wicker basket then finds my eyes when she realises I
haven’t answered her question. We have a moment of unspoken words, something we
do often, even more so lately than ever before. Right now I’m telling her that
she looks so fucking beautiful pondering over our son’s pending entry into our
lives. And her return stare tells me that she knows what I’m thinking and how I
feel about her.

“You two make me gag sometimes,” Carly complains, breaking
our silent moment.

“You’re just jealous,” Alexis retorts as she closes the gap
between us.

“Am not,” Carly mumbles and turns her back to Derek, her
face displaying a shade of crimson. Clearly she is.

Leaning against the pool table, I watch Alexis approach me
and drape her arms over my shoulders. My hands automatically find her belly,
and I rub the precious spot tenderly.

Ghosting my lips with her own, she asks the question again.
“So, what else are you gonna play?”

“What do you want me to play?”

A very subtle moan sounds from the back of her throat at the
same time she delicately licks her lips, obvious lustful desire rolling from
her. I love the way my playing the guitar has such a positive effect on her,
her reaction always such a turn-on. I must admit though, watching her play the
guitar has the same lust-fuelled effect on me, too. Not to mention the reason why
she learned to do so—it still blows me away.

I remember back to when she surprised me and played at one
of our gigs while singing “The Only Exception”. I was completely stunned and in
awe of her ability to have gained this new skill without me even knowing,
together with how amazing she looked, performed, and sang. Back in that moment,
no one but her existed up on that stage, her voice carrying a superb musical message
which was for my ears only. It was something I would never ever forget, and her
way of letting me know that no matter what we experienced together in life, we
would always pull through.

Since that day, Alexis has been learning more of the basics
and is a natural with a guitar, in fact, she is a natural musician. I’ve given
her a few private lessons myself, but the both of us never really get far when
I’m teaching, ending up on the floor in a sexually charged tangle of body and
limbs. Unfortunately, I’m thinking that if she is serious in the learning the
guitar properly, maybe it’s best Derek continues to teach her. After all, he
has done a good job so far.

“I’d love to see you all do a Kings of Leon song,” Alexis
purrs, bringing me back to now. She lowers her head and whispers into my ear,
her warm breath tickling my lobe. “You know what their music does to me.”

And there it is, her ability to so easily drive me wild, my
cock now wanting out of his pen and into hers. All it taking was the sound of
her suggestive voice.

“Oh, yeah?” I swallow and grip her tight arse. “What did you
have in mind?”

“The End,” she says with a salacious smile.

Derek interrupts our moment by singing the first line of the
song while air-guitaring like a member of an eighties hair band. Not so
surprisingly, the talented fucker actually nails the tone and lyrics of the
song. Alexis smiles and turns her head toward him, at the same time baring her
neck which is only centimetres from my mouth. The smooth soft skin before me
begs to be stroked by my tongue, the fresh floral notes rolling off her,
mesmerising me. I lean in and whisper into her ear. “Do you want me to play it
now?”

She turns, her lips just touching mine. “You know it?”

“I do.”

“Then yes, Mr. Clark, play it for me.”

I push off from the pool table and bend down to kiss her
stomach then head for my Gibson ES-137.

Slinging it over my shoulder, I hand Derek the bass and
raise my eyebrow at him. “Lexi wants a quick demo.” I plug the amp in, tune it
with a few strums and wait for Derek to count himself in.

As I play my first chord, I take in the sheer worship and
adoration in the sparkle of Alexis’s eyes, and it’s one of the best fucking
sights imaginable.

***

Later that night in bed, I gently caress her tired body.

“I shouldn’t have attempted to play Twister,” she groans.

“Not your brightest idea, my love,” I agree with a smile as
I sit up on the bed. “Where are you sore?”

“My piglets are hurting, and my back needs to man-up,” she
replies almost sulkily. Her gloomy pout is so damn cute.

“Here, let me show some love to those piggies.”

“No!” she snaps.

“Alexis, let me rub your bloody feet,” I state, my tone
displaying that I’m not in the mood for her reservations of her feet being
touched.

She growls then surrenders, placing them onto my lap.
“Fine.”

Taking a hold of one foot, I lightly pinch her big toe with
my fingers, giving it a gentle wiggle. “This little piggy went to maaarket...”
I begin.

Knowing she will try to kick me, I quickly secure both her
feet tightly, but not tight enough to cause any discomfort, the ankle she broke
just over a year ago still gives her a little grief.

“You’re mean,” she pouts.

Chuckling, I place a soft kiss on the ankle in question and start
to lightly massage the bottom of her foot. “So, I looked up some baby names—”

“Did you?” she smiles. “And...any you like?”

“Nothing that screams ‘my son’. Anyway, how can we name him
without seeing him first? The name we pick may not suit him.”

“Pfft, I picked out Nate and Charli’s names when I was nine
years old.”

I swap her feet, gently placing one down and picking up the
other. “What?”

“Sure did. Jen and I were playing in our cubby house with
our dolls. We got to talking about who we were going to marry when we grew up
and how many kids we were going to have. That’s when I chose those names.”

“You didn’t change your mind at all?” I ask, both shocked
and a little unconvinced.

Alexis yawns and closes her eyes. “Nope, I loved those names
when I was young and I still love them to this day.”

“What if Rick hadn’t liked them?”

She shrugs her shoulders, eyes still closed. “It would’ve
been stiff shit...a deal breaker,” she explains, the corners of her mouth lifting
into a smug smile. “He liked them though, so it was easy, really.”

Lightly tickling the side of her arch, I watch her lay
peacefully. “You are incredibly stubborn, you know.”

“I know someone who gives me a run for my money,” she
murmurs.

“So, who did you decide you were going to marry when you
grew up?” I ask, curious as to her childhood crush.

A sudden dread passes over me, fearing her answer to be
Rick. I really don’t want to hear that.

“Tom Cruise,” she sighs then opens her eyes and props
herself up on her elbows. “It was because I thought he was a fighter pilot in
real life,” she says while waggling her eyebrows and grinning like the Cheshire
Cat.

“He’s got nothing on me, Hunny.”

She laughs and drops her head back before bringing it
upright again. “I know. He’s not even good enough to be your wingman. So, what
names did you look up?”

I screw up my nose, still not overly happy with my results.
“Boyd, it means blonde- haired. I figure BB will be blonde.”
Fucking BB, she
has brainwashed me, I swear.

“I think that’s safe to say,” she smiles. “What else?”

“Billy.”

“What does Billy mean?”

“I can’t remember.”

“So why did you choose it?”

“No reason.”

She narrows her eyes at me, and I can’t hide my sly grin.

“Bryce, you’re lying.”

“I am not.”

“Yes, you are. Why Billy?” Realisation spreads across her
face “Oh...hang on a minute. No way. If you are suggesting Billy because of
Billy Brownless, you can forget it. No way is my son going to be named after a
Cats player. No way in hell. Pick another name.”

I laugh, she’s knows me too well. “You pick one then.”

“Fine. Brayden.”

 I repeat the name in my head a few times.
Brayden?
Brayden?
The more I say it, the more I like it.

“I was going with Bracken...” she continues, “...‘cause it
has all our initials in it, like Bianca did. But I just don’t like the sound of
Bracken as much as I like Brayden. Plus, Brayden means brave. Bracken means
‘Braccas’s Town’ and that’s just stupid.”

“Brayden...I like it. But I still think we need to see if it
will suit him first.”

“Whatever,” she huffs happily, while laying back down and
closing her eyes. “I’m telling you, it won’t matter. Babies don’t look like any
name in particular when they are born. They grow into their names.”

I shake my head at her stubbornness once again. “How do the
piglets feel now?”

“Better, thank you,” she yawns again.

“What about a middle name?” I ask.

“I’ve already picked that one.”

“Is it a deal breaker?” I probe, playfulness in my voice.
Nothing
is a deal breaker for us where I am concerned.

“No. But I think you’ll approve. At least I hope you will.”

“Uh huh. Well...what is it?”

She opens one eye and screws up her face, reluctant to
answer.

“Tell me. But before you do, if you say Hird or Lloyd or any
other Bomber’s player’s name, we will have to wage a deal of the century.”

“Lauchie,” she says softly, her eyes searching mine for
approval.

Lauchie...after my little brother.
My heart hammers
in my chest, and emotion fills my entire body. This woman never ceases to amaze
me, just when I think I can’t possibly love her anymore, she does or says
something else that has me worshiping her further.

I climb back under the covers and bring her close to me,
kissing her lips passionately. “It’s perfect, my love. And so are you.”

CHAPTER SIX

I know I’ve said this before, but honestly, I just love watching
Alexis sleep. To stare at her naked back while she dreams, taking in every tiny
bit of the beauty she projects during her peaceful slumber. For the past three
months though, she hasn’t been able to sleep on her tummy. Therefore, it hasn’t
been the sight of her naked back that I have lovingly absorbed like usual. Instead,
I have been privileged with the view of her angelic face and her perfectly
rounded stomach—a stomach that makes my heart beat like fuck every time I see
it.

I carefully shift in bed next to her as I make myself more
comfortable, supporting my head on my hand and lightly trailing my finger
around her protruding belly. My touch is deliberately feather soft, as I don’t
want to chance waking her—she needs all the sleep she can get.

Last night was exhausting for her, especially after
playfully jamming with me and Derek, followed by an awkward attempt at Twister carpet
with Carly. If I wasn’t mistaken, my best friend—and shameless pervert—found
their gently tangled position highly amusing, and not in the funny-ha-ha kind
of way.

I have no doubt that last night’s antics together with
Alexis having gone back to numerous piss-stops throughout the night, is a result
of her now overt tiredness. Obviously, this is bad for her, but not so much for
me. I can’t help find her frequent midnight toilet runs entertaining. I know
that’s sounds horrible, but I can’t. The grumble of annoyance she makes as she
awkwardly rolls and shuffles herself in the bed is fucking adorable. Not to
mention her not so hushed cursing of her ‘pathetic, weak, and sad excuse for a
bladder’—it gets me every time.
She’s just so funny...and beautiful...and
adorable...and fuck...I’m one lucky son of a bitch!

Whenever I feel the bed shift during the night, I pry an eye
open with a smirk and wait for the sound of her mumblings before jumping up to
help her. I genuinely love helping her, whether it’s during the day, evening,
or in the middle of the night. Of course she tells me not to and says she can
manage on her own, and sometimes she even tries to get out of bed very slowly
in order not to wake me. The thing is, it’s pretty fucking impossible for her
to move without the entire bed moving along with her.

These past few weeks she’s repeatedly told me that ‘she’s
over it’ and ‘thank fuck she’s not an elephant’, because apparently elephants
are pregnant—on average—for nearly two years.
Don’t get me wrong, I do
sympathise with her lack of comfort and sleep, I just can’t help but find her
frustration over some parts of her pregnancy somewhat comical.
I mean
really, how bad can it be?

I’m glad I just said that in my head. I’m also glad she
is still asleep.
Shit! Could you imagine the death stare she would
graciously give me if that had, in fact, dribbled out of my mouth?

Obviously, I have no idea what it’s like to carry a baby,
and I never will—cheers to owning a dick. And while our metaphorical glasses
are still raised in a toast to my gender, I think a ‘cheers’ to my abilities in
evading the evil curse known as Couvade Syndrome is also warranted.
Clink!

Now, seeing that I am the proud owner of a dick, this leaves
me no choice but to accept that my role during the whole baby-baking process is
to just accept that everything Alexis complains about is justified: the sore
back, the swollen feet, the aching tits, and our little precious one practising
his soccer skills by bending it like Beckham with Alexis’ rib cage. I know when
he does this because Alexis screws up her nose and rubs her abdomen in an
annoyed yet nurturing way. It’s fucking adorable, and it makes me smile...which
makes her mad...
really
mad
.
At the same time though, I do
give her my sympathy and jump to her aid, because let’s face it, at the end of
the day it’s the least I can do.

Alexis takes in a sharp breath and her chest rises, pushing
out her full luscious tits, taunting me. I’m desperate to press my lips to
them, take her soft perked nipples into my mouth and lavish them with my
tongue.
Fuck!
I have a hard-on right now just contemplating it, wondering
that if I try would she wake. 
Should I? Of course I should.
Then again,
her threats of late are becoming quite believable, so a rethink of that course
of action is probably wise.

Last week, Alexis made it very clear that her nipples were
no longer allowed to find their way into my mouth. She told me they were now
‘off limits’ because colostrum had appeared. I was no longer allowed to lavish
them with my tongue...well, at least until our son was drinking from a bottle.

Much to my disappointment, I had to admit this news did seem
fair to me...until she told me that he would more than likely start to drink
from a bottle when he reaches the age of one.
One...really? Fucking bullshit
age one, there’s no way in hell I’m waiting that long to suck her nipples. He
can drink from a bottle long before his first birthday.

I shake my head at the absurd thought and lean in closer to
Alexis’ tummy to have a one-on-one discussion with my boy. I do this often,
especially when his mother is asleep—secret daddy’s business.

“I know you are awake in there,” I whisper. “I can see you
moving around. Listen, you know I love you and will do absolutely anything for
you, give you anything you need, right?” I wait for him to acknowledge with
further movement.

He does.

“Good, because I need you to understand that your lease over
the use of your mother’s nipples is for a term of six months and no longer,” I
inform him.

Glancing up at Alexis, I confirm that her eyes are still
closed then return my attention back to her stomach. “You might think the
duration of your lease is unfair, but I can tell you I am being very
reasonable. So, that being said, do we have a deal, baby boy?” I lightly fist
bump Alexis’ tummy. “Good boy,” I whisper with a satisfied smile on my face and
gently nuzzle her skin with my nose.
God, she smells good.

“I can’t believe you just waged a deal with our son over his
use of my breasts,” Alexis says quite casually without opening her eyes.
Shit!
I could’ve sworn she was still asleep.

“He needs to know who’s boss,” I defensively answer while
shuffling closer to her face.

She opens her gorgeous eyes and rolls onto her side, facing
me. “I think you are the one that needs to know who’s boss, and I can confirm,
Mr. Clark, that it is not you,” she says with a content, cocky smirk on her
face.

 “Hunny, you know that is not true. Technically, I am still
your boss,” I imply, as I caress her tummy.

She growls, filling me with a devious happiness.

“I need to get up and have a shower,” she adds, now snotty
at my correctness.

I raise my eyebrow at her then get up on my knees, resting
back on my heels and giving her full sight of my morning glory. “A
shower...now? Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she says with a faux yawn while trying to keep her
obvious want for me at bay as she begins her practised shuffling to the edge of
the bed.

Smiling to myself, I take a hold of my cock and slowly drag
my clenched hand along its length, prompting her to swallow heavily.

She stares at me and licks her lips.

I’ve come to realise over the past year that this action of
hers is involuntary. I love it, it reveals her uncontrollable surrender.

“Alexis,” I say, in a low predatory tone as I crawl over her
body, stopping her from getting away and placing myself in a spoon position
behind her back. “Are you saying you don’t want this?” I ask, continuing to
tease her while pressing my cock onto the soft apex of her arse.

Instinctively, she pushes into me but refuses to look over
her shoulder in my direction.

“Uh huh,” she moans, giving me a lazy rub with the rotation
of her hips.

I lean forward and lick the skin just below her ear. “You’re
lying.”

“I am,” she giggles, then tilts her head back and welcomes
my mouth to hers, my tongue to caress her own.
My God, she tastes wonderful.
I could fucking kiss this woman till I run out of breath, and I’m positive
there have been moments when I nearly have.

Slowly, I trail my hand down her front and slide two fingers
inside her amazing pussy, enjoying the warm wet softness as I penetrate.

“Fuck, Bryce,” she moans, as I swirl them around inside her.

My cock twitches, indicating he too wants a piece of her
inner sanctum, so I pull my fingers out and take hold of her thigh, opening her
wide and placing her foot on the bed behind my legs. I position the head of my dick
at her entrance and slowly push into her.
Jesus, she feels good. How is it
that she always feels this fucking good?

Alexis reaches behind us and grips the back of my head,
making me groan and flex my fingers into her hip.
Bloody Hell!
I know
she likes it controlled and torturous in the beginning, so I rock my pelvis
deeper and harder but keep my rhythm slow before building my pace.

“Oh, God,” she moans, reassuring me of my thoughts.

Her hand moves away from my head and is transferred to my
arse, her nails digging into my now tense cheek—a clear indication of her
climbing orgasm.

“I love you so fucking much,” I growl out loud, my momentum
picking up with a passionate vigour.

“I love you, too,” she replies breathlessly.

I can never get enough of hearing her say that to me, those
three words making me the happiest man alive and surging me with adrenalin
every time.

Moving my cock in and out of her quickly and relentlessly, I
feel the pressure start to build in my shaft. She pants heavier now, and her
inner muscles clench around me, assisting my release and tipping me over the
edge.

“Fuck,” I growl into the crook of her neck, drowning out her
cries of gratification.

I trail kisses along the tops of her shoulders and down her
arm as I rub out the end of our climax, taking my time and enjoying her body. When
both our breathing returns to a normal level, I straddle her lower thighs and
hover over her. 

“Do you still want your shower?” I say seductively,
arrogance in my tone.

“Yes,” she counteracts. “As a matter of fact I do.”

I chuckle, shake my head, and launch myself off the end of
the bed, now primed for the rest of my day. Sex with Lex in the mornin’ always
has that effect on me.

“Here,” I reach out my hands as I stand in front of her,
offering to pull her up. She accepts and slowly rises to her feet while letting
out an uncomfortable grumble. I’m about to mock her cuteness when suddenly, I
feel a warm, wet, sensation on the tops my feet. “What the fuc—”

“Oh, God,” Alexis gasps, letting go of both my hands and
clutching her stomach. “My waters just broke.”