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Throughout lunch, Selene watches Brigitte as if my baby girl is magic. I notice Yazmin often stroking Beckett’s head. She’s also quick to fix Brooklyn’s loose braid. Each sister exudes a deep longing for a little one.
“Will you have more?” Selene asks me once the kids—including Ralph Junior and Esther—are down for a nap.
“I sense Silas wants a son like the one he lost. He doesn’t say anything, of course. I think he’s afraid to admit how much he needs to replace what he lost. He’s given me so much that I’d be willing to give him a child of his own one day.”
“What if it’s a girl?” Wynonna asks as she starts her second cocktail, making me wonder if she’ll need to sleep off the booze in the guest room. “And if it’s a boy, will you name it Michael like the one he lost? Feels like he’d be chasing a dream he’d never fully realize.”
“It’s impossible to know what anyone will want in a year,” I admit, enjoying the buzz from my Bellini. “A month ago, Silas was a stranger. He already knew so much about me, yet I was more of an idea than a real person. We’re still figuring things out.”
Selene and Yazmin share a worried look while Wynonna only smiles.
“Nomad was never my favorite of Hoyt’s friends,” she explains. “He’s not particularly friendly, and he rarely smiles at my jokes. But he’s that way with everyone. I thought he was flipping out when he fell for that Kati dipshit. Then, I was certain he was mentally fucked when he told Hoyt about you. However, when I see him with you and the kids, I realize the man has layers. I just never got to see any of them. Now, his behavior makes perfect sense.”
“I’m not a special person,” I admit, exhaling softly. “I’m not a woman who stands out or makes an impression. Somehow, I did with him. And I want to believe his magic has rubbed off on me, so I’ll get to live a fairy-tale ending.”
When the sisters look at me like they might cry, I shrug. “It’s hard to hear you’re shit for thirty years without accepting it’s true. Like, I want to believe the new people who like me, but the idea of getting a loving husband and a safe life for my kids feels like lies. It’ll take more than a month to make it real.”
“Then, let’s do this again in a month,” Wynonna says as her speech turns slurred. “We’ll invite Rosemary next time. I don’t know why she bailed today. I’m a friendly, accepting woman.”
“You are,” Selene says immediately while Yazmin and I nod.
“Well, we’ll do this every month. Then, we can check in on things. But also, we should do things out in town. That spa day was off the hook. Ralph fucked me raw that night. Whatever shit they put on our skin made him super horny. The lingerie didn’t hurt, either.”
As we all chuckle, I think of Silas’s reaction to my scent and the red negligee. Yazmin laughs harder when Selene blushes. Apparently, Hoyt was also a fan.
Later that night, as my head swims from the earlier booze and reminiscing, I find myself ready to get frisky. I know Silas is dying for relief that doesn’t come from his hand. I’m in a state of heat every night as he works at the heels of my feet. We both crave more.
I’m nowhere near sexy yet. Though my belly is a flabby mess, I slide into my maternity lingerie and join him in bed.
“No,” he says instantly, as if I’ve fallen for a Puritan wiener rather than a sex-starved biker.
“No penetration,” I murmur and kiss him. “Just a little non-poking fun.”
“We should wait.”
“But I’m horny now.”
Despite his stubborn temper riding strong, Silas smirks at my words. “I can wait.”
“Then don’t do a thing. Just let me have fun while you stick to your guns.”
Silas doesn’t want me to acknowledge his boner. He’s genuinely offended by how we’re not waiting for the doctor to give a thumbs-up to our fun. Yet, he’s sporting the kind of hard-on a woman can’t possibly miss.
Kissing his hard body, I linger at his nipples. I rarely got to really explore when my bump was always in the way. Now, I can move around easily, meaning I finally taste all his nooks and crannies.
Silas is ticklish around his belly button. He goes absolutely still and irritated when I slide down his boxers and free his thick erection.
“Landry,” he says as if ready to shut down our fun.
“Silas,” I whisper back before nipping at his inner thigh.
I watch his eyes glaze over as soon as my wet lips wrap around his hot flesh. He’s putty in my hands now.
Sucking leisurely, I use my other hand to finger my clit. I’ve never been great at masturbation, but I also didn’t have such intoxicating visual stimuli.
Silas is a work of art. His thick muscles and dark hair are insanely masculine. He feels like a powerful vehicle, impressive even when idle.
My tongue lovingly bathes his cock before skimming across his heavy balls. Silas says my name as if reassuring himself. Taking him deeper into my throat, I suck steadily and drink down his hot seed.
