Stricken Resolve (6 page)

“I’m coming!” I grunt deeply, biting my
bottom lip as my cock jerks into her tightness, filling it with my
cream.

“Don’t stop,” she pleads over and over, her
moans steeped in wanton need.

I don’t stop. I place my other thumb to her
ass and slip it in. Hooking both of them inside, I pull her pucker
apart. And she screams out, her body shaking as it pulsates around
my still hammering dick. Making her come, hard.

“Oh god,” she moans, gasping for air.

Holding onto her, I slip my dick out and
swoop her into my arms. Carrying her twitching post coital body
into the house and tucking her into her bed, pulling the white
sheets up to her shoulders. My cock’s still swinging out in the
open. She brightens a big sated smile at me, her eyes squinted and
smoky. I swiftly peck her cheek and disembark from her house, grab
my pants and find my way back into my house to do what I’ve needed
to do since I got home. Decide how to deal with the new James
revelation.

Throwing my dirty clothes in the hamper, I
flip on the shower to acclimate the temperature and run my finger
through the steams of water. Ah… Just perfect.

Stepping into the spray, I let the hot steamy
water cascade down my back. Soaking in its therapeutic grandeur, I
ponder, asking myself: What to do, what to do?

Last night before Short Stack went into labor
and gave birth to our twins, I was up late basking on the back
deck, nursing a bottle of Bud after I had just gotten through with
fixing my problems with Cammy. She wasn’t pleased when I stopped
fucking her to talk with Emily. I smoothed it over by promising her
the ‘night of her life.’ Or that’s how I put it. And that’s how I
performed. Tying her up in the spare bedroom, paddling her ass
within inches of giving her lasting welts. She came over and over.
I even used a vibrator to force her to orgasm. She came so many
times she was literally begging me to stop. Like I gave a shit. I
wasn’t going to stop. And I fucked her afterward and then went to
drink a beer, leaving her to rest and ultimately pass out in the
guest room. Alone. Yes, I’m a prick like that.

Then my phone rang, and it was James.

“What do you want?” I hissed at him.

“We need to talk. It’s important and I’d
appreciate the assholery to be at a bare minimum during this
conversation,” he said in his typical unyielding tone. His voice
has always had that serious, don’t-fuck-with-me weight behind it.
Not sure how Emily’s ever saw past that. But apparently she
has.

“Alright...” I sighed with rather loud gusto.
What can I say? I wasn’t exactly excited to be hearing from
him.

Setting my beer down on the table, I tucked
my hands behind my head, as I held the phone to my ear with my
shoulder. Awaiting whatever was to come next. My eyes floating out
into the sky. The stars were hidden behind the thick marine layer.
But it was still pretty. As it always is year round here in
Malibu.

“I can’t give you the details. All I can say
is that the government’s ordered me to come in. I don’t have a
choice. I’ve been making calls since she went to sleep, which has
done me no good. My hands are tied.” His tone was level, but I
could feel the anxiety in the heaviness of his words. So much that
I was actually starting to feel a little sorry for the man.

“Gone? How long?” I asked, letting let my
eagerness slip. There’s no guessing that I’m elated to be having
him out of the picture for my sake. But I dread it for Emily’s. She
loves him. I just hope it’s not too damn much.

“I haven’t the slightest clue. But what I am
telling you, I am telling you in confidence,” he stated, peeking my
curiosity further.

“Go on...”

“I’m leaving Thursday morning. I’m not
telling her until then. And when I do….leave, I need you to look
out for her. Okay?” Was James choking up? I seriously thought I
might have heard him stifle a sob. But I couldn’t tell.

I agreed, of course. As if I would have
allowed it to go any other way. So, our conversation carried on for
a few more minutes and in the end I was left with a sense of mild
sadness but more happiness filled its place. Happiness for me to be
able to possibly talk her into loving me, again. Needless to say I
crawled into my king sized bed, as happy as a drunk rocker in a
room full of sexy, big titted hookers. And let me tell ya, that’s
really fuckin’ happy.

Chapter Six

~Emily~

“Well good morning to you too, little one.” I
kiss Jenna on the cheek, as I plop out my breast to feed her. This
breast feeding shit is no joke. My boobs were medium sized before.
Now, they’re huge and they leak milk like a cracked pipe. I might
have felt like the size of a cow before. But now, I am the cow,
creamy milk and all.

I’ve only been a mom for the past forty eight
hours and I must say it’s been an amazing two days. I’m sore from
the C-section, but it’s not as bad as some people say. I’ve hurt
worse with my endo. That now, according to Dr. Golds, is gone for
good. Thank the heavens.

“Hey Mama Bear,” James, my sexy man says,
opening his eyes with a sleepy smile.

“Hey to you too. Did you get some sleep?”

He was up part of the night taking care of
the babies as I rested. I was exhausted and he’s been so wonderful
through everything. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Turning his head, he fixes his stare at the
clock on the wall and morosely frowns. What is that all about?

“You okay?” I inquire, reading his body
language and it’s the opposite of happy.

He shakes his head, an obvious answer to my
question.

Feeding Jenna, I watch as James leans back in
his chair. Rubbing his stubbly jaw, watching me in silence. The air
between us is somehow smoky with words that I can’t describe. Love?
Longing? Resolve?

Smoothing Jenna’s curly red hair with my
fingers, she passes out. Breast milk leaking from the corner of her
delicate mouth. I swipe it away with my finger and unlatch her from
my breast.

James stands without a word and lifts his
daughter out of my arms and into his, carrying her sweetly back
over to her hospital bassinet and retrieving a grunting Eric.

“Here.” He offers our son and I tuck his
little head into the crook of my arm and position his mouth to my
other swollen nipple. Rooting his mouth around, he latches on and I
lean back, getting more comfortable. I don’t know if I will ever
get used to this breast feeding thing. Although I must say my body
is fully capable of sustaining two growing babies. My milk is thick
and rich. Or that’s what Dr. Golds said yesterday when she came by
to examine me.

James stands next to the bed, attentively
watching Eric feed. His eyes glazed over, like he’s deep in
thought. Maybe he didn’t get much sleep last night?

“You okay sweetie?” I ask.

He shakes his head back and forth, scrubbing
his eyes with his palms.

“We need to talk,” he retorts lowly,
crouching over the bed, reaching for Eric and lifting him from my
arms with ease. Cradling Eric loving to his big chest, he presses
my red call button.

“Yes?” Nurse Shelly answers with her normal
upbeat friendliness. She’s been my favorite nurse since the
beginning and James’s too. She’s so personable and lovely. When I
leave here I will for sure be sending her a thank you gift, if
James hasn’t already done so.

“It’s time to do that thing we discussed
yesterday,” he tells her, his voice suddenly strained but he face
is giving away nothing.

“Oh,” her sweet voice recedes.

Shit, this doesn’t sound good.

“Be right in, James,” she finishes, clearing
her throat with the speaker still on. I can hear her whispering to
other nurses about moving the twins to the nursery and calling some
doctor named Stephanie Pierson. Whoever she is. Definitely not a
name I can recall.

“Oh crap,” I hear somebody blurt loudly,
echoing through the speaker of my room and the intercom goes silent
with an audible clicking noise.

Taking a seat next to me, James sits in
awkward silence, bringing Eric out at arm’s length, cupping his
tiny head in his huge hands, Eric’s body laying length wise down
Papa Bear’s forearms, his feet touching Papa’s black shirt covered
chest. James stares down at our son, like there’s nothing else in
the room. Deep breaths permeate the air as I watch his back and
shoulders rise and fall with each inhale and exhale. I can’t see
his face, but I can feel this is somehow a private personal moment
for them as Eric’s eyes rest laxly on his Papa, who’s looming
partway over him.

“I know this isn’t possible but when I look
at him, I see parts of me,” he states, breaking the pregnant
silence and drawling out a long sigh. “He’s so handsome, I never
thought I’d be a dad. You have to fall in love first, then
everything is supposed to come. But here I am.” He bends forward,
placing a kiss atop Eric’s head, lingering there.

Removing his lips, he sits up and turns to
look at me. I mean really look at me. Like he’s never looked
before. Something in his hazily eyes speak feelings I don’t even
know if he can express and my heart soars, pounding full of immense
love and forever devotion in my chest.

“I want you.” He coughs and shifts on the
bed, “No, I need you to know that no matter what happens in our
lives, I love you. You mean everything to me.” He briefly shuts his
eyes, squeezing them tightly. The lines accenting his eyes,
burrowing into deeper, harder, creases.

Reopening them, they search mine and bore
into me with the strength of a thousand bolts of lightning.

“You. Are. Everything,” he growls, in his
husky tone.

Drenching my core with sudden wanton
need.

Oh wow! He’s hot.

If only we could make love. Oh, how I’d love
to have him hold me as he glides his perfect cock into my greedy
core.

I vigorously chew the inside of my cheek,
willing the sexual urge away.

I never knew you could truly love someone as
completely as I do James. We fit like Ross and Rachael, or Mr.
Darcy and Ms. Bennett, or Romeo and Juliet. Without the tragedy, of
course. God knows I’ve had enough drama to last me a hundred
lifetimes.

A slight knock sounds at my door and is
pushed open by Shelly as she enters. The woman I’ve known for
months has a nearly visible dark cloud hanging over her head. Her
youthful face stricken with obvious grief.

What happened to her?

Behind her tails another nurse, carrying the
same depressive expression on her slightly aged face. Her features
grim, squished; like she just smelled something foul. Or she’s
experiencing actual pain.

“We’re here to take the twins to the nursery
for a few tests,” Diane, my older nurse mutters and finally glances
at me. As her eyes briefly collide with mine she distinguishably
winces.

What the hell?

Do I look that bad? I guess I haven’t
actually looked in the mirror since yesterday.

“Um… Okay?” I trail off, completely
confused.

Why is everybody all of a sudden so
morose?

James places Eric back into his bassinet with
a kiss. “I love you.” He whispers and Diane begins to roll the
bassinet cart from the room. Then he makes his way to a sleeping
Jenna and kisses her forehead, down her rosy cheeks and finishes by
kissing both of her tiny gown covered hands.

I sit back and observe as my eerily quiet
room becomes devoid of children. James escorts the nurses into the
hall, each of them wheeling a baby’s hospital bed. Which is a clear
plastic tub with a mat and a sign with the baby’s birth information
attached. Nothing overly fancy. The tub sits on top of a brown
wooden cart that’s almost like a dresser on wheels but lighter.

Shifting in bed, I raise the bed into a more
comfortable position with the controls and hold my pillow against
my incision.

Any abdominal movement in the slightest feels
like my stomach is about to rip in two. As they decrease my pain
meds, I experience even more discomfort. But I’m determined to get
out of bed this afternoon again.

Yesterday, twenty-four hours after surgery I
spent the better part of an hour arguing between Dr. Golds and
James to get out of bed to use the bathroom and shower. I won, of
course.

No more godforsaken catheter for me! Thank
god I didn’t have to endure that for months like some patients do.
A few days was enough to make me want to throw a temper tantrum
like a two year old. Let me tell ya, some may think ‘Hey a
catheter, no problemo.’ Fuck no, tell me that when you have a giant
belly the size of a hot air balloon and two very active babies
playing soccer with your bladder. It bodes for more pain than the
convenience of not getting up to relieve the need to pee.

Scratching my legs, I hear the scuff of boots
in the hall, followed by whispers and then James comes strolling
into my room looking like somebody just died. Eyes bright red and
puffy. His nose is even a tinge of red, which isn’t good. This
can’t be good at all.

My heart suddenly twinges just by observing
the man of my dreams in discernible distress.

“Honey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask in
a loving gentle tone.

“No.” His voice drops as his shoulders follow
suit and do the same.

“Come here.” I pat the bed. “Let me make it
all better,” I offer, guiding him with sweet encouragement. A soft
smile dancing on my face.

He takes the invitation and drops onto the
bed. All of his weight causing it to creak out in anger.

“Come here,” I coax again, with my arms open
wide. Offering him a comforting hug.

Something’s not right with my Bear and I’m
about to find out what.

Leaning into me, I envelop my arms tightly
around him. His hands wrapping around my lower back, his head
nestled into the full voluptuousness of my mountainous breasts.
Caressing down his back, I rub to soothe him. My lips planted into
his short black hair.