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“No, we already fucking forgot her, because she is nothing,” Kings says with surety.
“You’re mine, Lana, and for the rest of your fucking life, I will never stop what I feel. I’ll never stop being obsessed with you. Give me another son,” he growls,
moving suddenly, gripping me effortlessly around the waist, and bringing my legs around his hips. I groan behind his rough hand still on my neck.
I give a throaty giggle and whisper against his mouth, “What if it’s a girl?” And he takes that as my concession.
“Not yet. Our little men are coming first. They need to be ready to handle having you and another little princess like you.” Spinning, he moves us to the couch as I run my hands through his wild mane, the skin of his freshly buzzed crew cut scratching against my palms as they travel down to his full beard.
My Kingston has grown into a man, and I find bitter-sweetness in that, a sense of lust over watching him grow over the years. Seeing him go from a hotheaded teen to a cocky, confident father and man has brought me closer to him then ever, strengthening our bond. I’ve known Kingston as he has known me for more than half our lives, and yes, I was jealous, but now that I step back, I can see no one else has that. No one can touch that bond or even come close to comparing what we have to anything they have.
Sitting us down, me astride his lap, we start touching and playing. I laugh as he nips at my neck and whispers dirty secrets, and he growls when my body grinds down against him. And just as his shirt comes off and my tank straps have slid down my arms to expose my breasts, our sweet little man starts crying.
“Fuck. Almost had my afternoon quickie,” he groans, and I readjust myself, standing and hiding my breasts away. Kings looks frustrated, with his chest red from my scratch marks and his cock tenting his basketball shorts.
“You’re the one who wants another,” I tease, heading for the stairs.
“He’s lucky he’s so fucking cute, and I want more than another!” he yells after me, and I chuckle, my mood lightened and Hilary long forgotten like I want her to be. Holy cow, therapy is doing wonders for us.
“Girls night out! Yas!” Shayla hollers as we step into the swanky downtown nightclub. We haven’t had girl time in forever, and I’m starting to feel like myself more and more each day and part of that is spending time with the people I love most.
Kingston grumbled and pouted the entire time I got ready, and I took great pleasure in making him moan and groan. He wanted to start baby making tonight, but I had already made plans with Shayla, and this time with my best friend is needed.
“I know, and we look hot, if I do say so myself, Shayla Adams.” I slap her ass hard causing a high pitch yelp to leap from her throat, and we don’t miss the men staring and paying extra attention to the spanking.
Shayla looks stunning in a pantsuit style outfit. The black ensemble fits her curves like a dream, the back open to just under her dimples on her lower back all the way up to the string tying around her neck. The bow she’s tied keeps the see-through bodice top up, and only patches of lace cover her breast. She looks incredible, definitely not dressed in her usual attire.
My look for the night was also one of the reasons Kingston was mumbling a fit under his breath. I went with a stunning emerald green mini dress that hugs my curves and laces up the front. With a deep V neckline, it gives my small breasts a decent amount of cleavage. I went with nude pumps, and my hair is curly on my shoulders, my makeup dark and dewy.
Making our way through the crowd, we spot an empty booth and scamper to it before any of these other ladies do.
“Trey and Kingston came here a few weeks back, and Trey hated it. So naturally, I wanted to test it out.” Shayla chuckles over the loud techno beat blaring from the system.
“Yeah, is that your foreplay, purposely disagree with him until he spanks you into thinking what he does?” I banter, giving her a shrug and a wink.
“Gosh, you are never not going to say the weirdest shit, are you?”
“Oh no, call up the priest. Shayla Adams just said a curse word, everybody!” No one hears me; everyone is too busy drinking, dancing, and trying to find someone to take home. Shay rolls her eyes, and a very handsome, tall, and well-built server dressed in all black comes to our tables.
“Well, hello, beautiful ladies. What can I get you to drink?” His dimples deepen with his cheeky smile and cocky attitude. I can appreciate him and his good looks, but he has nothing on my beast at home.
“I’ll take a gin and tonic with lime.” I give him a quick smile and nod.
“Oh! I will have a rum and pineapple!” Shayla cheers, clapping her hands. He winks, and with one flirtatious smile, he goes on the hunt to get our drinks.
We take in the surroundings for a minute, watching clubbers before I strike up a conversation. “Is Mama excited to drink or what?” I acknowledge her enthusiasm earlier.
“Oh my gosh, yes! I have been dying to drink since the babies have been off breast milk. I am ready to drink until my jokes get as dirty as yours!” She whoops, throwing her hands in the air and letting her hair fly about as she waves her head side to side.
I chuckle. “Careful, you have too many drinks and you just might find me pretty enough to mack on, baby girl.”
“Ladies, your drinks.” The waiter comes back, and alongside our drinks are two shot glasses.
“These are on the house. Consider them a gift from me to the two most stunning women in this room.”
Tilting my head slightly, I give him a dimpled smile. I’m sure he uses that line on everyone. “How many girls does that work on?” I inquire curiously, intrigued by this man’s game. He’s got it and he knows it.
“Never the ones as fucking gorgeous as you two.”
