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“Are you still planning on coming with us tomorrow?” He sounds almost pleading like maybe he thinks I’m going to back out after what we just did.
“Yeah. We’ll be there.” I try for a small smile, wanting to put him at ease.
He nods his head, drops his hand from the door, and blows out a breath in what I think is relief. He gives me one last searching look, says goodnight, and then silently makes his way back home.
Chapter 9
James
Navigating the massive airport on a holiday weekend with two babies in tow is a harrowing experience. I doubt we would have made our flight without Shayla’s help, especially after a long night of tossing and turning. My mind kept flipping between the first moment she unclipped her top and pressed her nipple to my lips, to the look of ecstasy on her gorgeous face when she shoved her hand in her pants to touch her clit, to moaning my name as she came apart on my lap, to her look of fear as she hurriedly covered herself and ran out of the room, and then to the way she pressed her lips together and kept silent when I walked her home.
I was worried about whether or not she would show up today after the way I took advantage of her offer to comfort me. Yes, she was the one who pulled her top down. She must know how utterly obsessed I am with her breasts. It’s totally obvious, no matter how hard I try to hide it. But I’m the one who pulled her down on my lap. I’m the one who couldn’t keep my hands off her luscious thighs and hips and ass and waist and back, who kept yanking hard on her body, forcing her to grind on my erection. I’m the one who latched onto her breasts and drank from her, unable or unwilling to stop until I embarrassingly came in my pants within a few minutes.
It was the most erotic experience of my life, but from the way she reacted afterward, I’m terrified it was a one-and-done kind of situation. I’m terrified I’ll never again feel her fingers in my hair pulling me to her chest, feel her pussy grinding on my cock, or watch her cum with my name on her lips.
The only thing I could do to get my mind to settle long enough to finally fall asleep last night was to jerk off to the mental image of suckling her tits. Seconds. That’s all it took to cum again, and I was out like a light.
But true to her word, she was on my doorstep before the sun came up with my Angelainey and their luggage. By silent agreement, we haven’t talked about what happened last night. She dove right into rattling off everything we needed to pack to bring with us—like the babies’ car seats that we’ll have to check with our bags, which I never would have thought of. I felt pitifully incompetent, though there was nothing in her tone to suggest she was annoyed.
By the time we board the plane, we’re both frazzled. I had splurged on first-class seats, even though it’s only a three-hour flight, so we’d have more room for the babies since they have to sit on our laps, and we could hopefully relax during the flight, maybe even catch up on some much-needed sleep. But Grayson and Lainey start crying and repeatedly tugging on their ears from the air pressure as soon as the plane takes off. It’s nothing short of awful for everyone aboard our flight.
We keep offering Grayson and Lainey bottles since swallowing is supposed to help relieve the pressure in their ears, but Lainey twists her head from side to side, and Grayson cries so hard that he’s red in the face. Shayla ends up nursing them one after the other while I do my part by pacing up and down the aisle with whichever baby isn’t currently nursing, and then we switch.
Though I’m normally a nonconfrontational kind of guy who prefers to keep to himself, I have a few choice words with a woman with a dome of hair teased to hell and back who raises her voice at Shayla, saying, “You need to have some self-respect and cover up when you’re doing”—she gestures to Shayla’s chest and curls her lip— “that. It’s indecent.”
All it takes is one look at the way Shayla immediately ducks her eyes and tries to cover herself and Grayson with a swaddling blanket before I push my way between the woman and Shayla, blocking her view. I am barely able to bite back the string of profanities I want to let loose as I tell her, in polite terms, to fuck off. I have never in my life spoken to a woman this way, but I’m not about to let her go on and make my angel feel like she’s doing something dirty or wrong.
The woman rears back with a hand on her chest, reacting as if I had slapped her across the face. “Excuse me?” she asks with indignation.
Before I can say anything else, a flight attendant steps in and forces the woman back to her seat with her own choice words. On her way back, she leans in close to Shayla and says softly, “I know all too well what it feels like for strangers to share their nasty opinions about breastfeeding in public. Legally, you don’t have to cover up if you don’t want to. If anyone here doesn’t want to see it, then they can just look away. Let me know if anyone else bothers you, and I’ll handle it, ok?”
Thankfully, we don’t have any more issues after that, but I keep my eyes peeled for anyone who even thinks about saying something negative about the way Shayla feeds our babies. I only slightly start to relax once I take my seat next to her, and she lays her hand on my arm, leaving it there until the plane lands.
* * *
We’ve been waiting for nearly an hour outside the terminal in the passenger pickup area with our mountain of luggage and car seats. I shove my phone in my pocket as yet another call goes to voicemail, and try not to let my frustration get the best of me.
Grayson and Lainey are both fussing, and Mom is late picking us up after telling me not to waste my money booking a rental car along with our plane tickets. I sigh and rub Lainey’s back as I hold her, her head drooping on my shoulder, and decide to call Mom one more time before ordering an Uber. I exhale in relief when she answers on the fourth ring before my call goes to voicemail yet again.
“Mom, finally.”
“James? Don’t you take that tone with me.”
I press my lips together so I don’t rise to the bait. I don’t want to make an already depressing and stressful weekend that much worse by getting into an argument with her right away.
I blow out of breath and try to hide my annoyance as I soften my tone when I say, “I’m sorry. Long flight. Are you almost here?”
“Here where? Where are you?” There’s a clatter of noise in the background, and Mom’s voice is muffled as I imagine she puts the phone to her shoulder and starts talking to someone else.
Lainey whimpers and I’m losing what little patience I have left, which is easy to do with her despite my best attempts to keep myself in check.
“Mom. Hello? Are you still planning to pick us up from the airport?”
“What? No. I told you this morning that I couldn’t do it.”
“No, you didn’t—”
“I’ve got to go, James.” She ends the call, and I pinch the bridge of my nose while I take a few deep breaths to calm myself.
