Beautiful Bastard: Beautiful Beloved Part 5

Her eyes twinkled as she looked up at me and when she reached forward and played with her nipple, I was f.u.c.king done.

Perfect suction, her hot little a.s.s in perfect view . . . holy f.u.c.k. I closed my eyes and gave in to the clawing ache that built in my thighs and stretched upward, tightening . . .

A tiny thump sounded in the other room: Anna rolling into the side of the crib. She coughed a few times.

I started to step away but Sara planted her hands on my hips with quiet urgency. "She's fine. You're so close, baby, stay."

And then the baby started to cry.

Sara slid her mouth down again, sucking hard and fast, begging with her eyes for me to relax, to come, to keep this moment alive somehow, but how the b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l was I supposed to f.u.c.k her mouth with our infant daughter crying in the other room?

The hungry cry, Sara once told me. "Do you hear it?" she'd asked. "How different it sounds?"

I knew without having to even ask that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s were growing heavy and uncomfortable.

This time, when I stepped back, she let me.

I ran the pad of my thumb from her temple down across her cheek to rest on her full, wet bottom lip. "Petal. Go on."

With an apologetic grimace she took my hand and stood. She looked so f.u.c.king beautiful in front of me: topless, wearing her tiny lace pants, legs toned and smooth. She stretched and kissed me once, soft and slow, trapping my c.o.c.k between us.

"We'll finish this later?"

"Sure," I murmured, kissing her forehead.

Her a.s.s, when she turned and stepped into the nursery, was sublime. And then she bent, picked up our baby, and walked to the rocking chair.

Instead of sitting at her feet like usual, I went down the hall into the bedroom to let my body come down.

Twenty minutes later I felt Sara crawl into bed behind me. Her hand was warm when it slid around my chest. Her mouth was soft and wet on the bare skin of my shoulder.

"You awake?" she whispered, letting her hand run down my stomach to where I was naked under the covers. My body began to respond when she gripped me, but I was so f.u.c.king close to sleep, so exhausted. I took her hand in mine and pulled it up to my chest, wordlessly telling her we'd find another time.

"Good morning, sunshine." Will was sitting in my chair, his feet perched on my desk.

I glanced at him and then shut my office door behind me. "Comfortable?"

"My office is better," he said in response. "How was the epic s.h.a.gfest?"

"Mildly disappointing."

His playful expression dimmed at my probably-too-honest answer and he sat up, planting his elbows on his knees. "What happened?"

I dropped my laptop bag near my office closet and sat across from him. "George was good, it was just a lot of updates, a lot of mishaps at the restaurant, and then the s.e.x that never quite happened after."

"What kind of mishaps?"

"Alfredo on the trousers, water dumped on the mix, Sara's b.r.e.a.s.t.s leaking through her dress, the valet sc.r.a.ped my car. You know, the usual date night."

Will held up a hand. "Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and the dress and the what now?"

I sighed. "William. Sometimes you disappoint me with your predictability."

But he was already shaking his head. "I'm honestly curious. They . . . leak?"

I felt my brows pull together. "Well . . . yeah. 'Course they do. You do realize where milk comes from, right? What they're actually for? That they weren't created simply for you to enjoy."

"Do not blaspheme, Max," he said, holding out a single finger in warning. He looked a little dazed. "And they leak like, constantly?"

"Not constantly, you bleeding idiot. Just when she hasn't fed Anna in a few hours or if she hears her cry . . ." I winced, meeting his eyes. "Or another baby cry, apparently. I didn't really antic.i.p.ate that one, to be honest."

I didn't know what to say. It wasn't that I felt like I was betraying Sara's privacy in talking about this; it was more that I felt I had access to a secret room in the man tavern and I really shouldn't hand over the pa.s.sword to Will until it was his time. Let him suffer a bit.

I gave him my most condescending smile. "Lots of things happen with the female body that even you haven't seen."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't patronize me."

"Why?" I clucked my tongue sympathetically. "It brings me such joy."

Will tilted his head, and seemed to consider whether or not to tell me something. His blue eyes narrowed and a little smile took over one half of his mouth.

I waited it out until I knew he couldn't stand it anymore. The staring contest continued for at least ten seconds longer.

"Fine," he said on a bursting exhale. "I've been with a pregnant woman before."

I regarded him with mild disgust. "Okay, given that I know you've never impregnated anyone yourself, I'm just going to say it: that's slightly f.u.c.king weird."

"Yeah . . . I did a lot of s.h.i.t then that I wouldn't do now. But I've never been with a woman who . . ." He glanced down to his chest and looked back up at me, brows raised.

"Right," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. Will was such a notorious breast man, it occurred to me that it was strange that he hadn't seemed to think about this perk of motherhood before now.

"What does it taste like?" he said, like a crack in the air.

I groaned, rubbing my eyes. "William."

"Maximillian. Don't even try to pretend like you haven't tasted it."

I remembered the conversation Sara and I had about it the first week we were home. We were in the newborn haze, with dishes piled in the sink and in the same clothes we'd worn the day before. Sara was in pain, and I did what I could to help relieve it: with my hands, my mouth. She'd watched, eyes wide and grateful, her nails gently scratching my scalp and asked me how it tasted.

I blinked back over to Will. "It's . . . sweet," I admitted.

He whimpered, closing his eyes. "I feel like I need to meet Hanna at the apartment for a lunchtime-"

"Christ, you're pathetic."

He opened his eyes and studied me, eyes narrowing. "You dig it."

"Her t.i.ts are glorious. Of course I dig them."

"Not just that. It." He leaned forward, forcing me to hold his gaze. "You do! Holy s.h.i.t! You dig that they leak and think it's weird. Are you feeling shame, Gentle Giant?"

I pulled back, shaking my head at him. "Absolutely not."

"And by 'absolutely not' you mean, 'I am absolutely horrified that I dig the-' "

"I'm close to kicking you out of my office."

He laughed, rocking the chair back on two legs. "Which means I'm close to unearthing the truth."

"The truth, you sodding w.a.n.ker, is it's just a weird balance right now." I hesitated for a moment, trying to organize my thoughts. "Yes, of course there are things about it that are surprisingly hot. But before, it was just us. Max and Sara, living together, still getting to know each other. It's like you and Hanna now: you can stay out as late as you want, f.u.c.k as loud and often as you want, go on a weekend holiday without notice. We were deep in the throes of that, and now there is a little girl in my life who is more important than anything. And . . ." I pulled at the back of my neck. "I didn't expect it. I didn't expect to feel so many things at once. I feel like I'm walking around with my heart outside my body, and I know it's even more true for Sara. I didn't know how hard it would be to see her energy split. So yeah, the fact that I basically want to f.u.c.k her all the time but worry that I'll . . ."

He sat quietly, listening. But when I couldn't figure how else to explain the strange tension in me, he guessed: "You feel guilty."

"A bit." I slid my palm across my mouth. "I mean, look. There's only so much I'm needed for right now. Sara feeds her, holds her. Anna wants her mum, you know? I can change her and sing to her and take her running, but she doesn't need me yet." I grimaced, hating how it sounded to admit: "But I still need a lot. It feels selfish to want the 'epic s.h.a.gfest'-as you so delicately put it-to be just as wild as it ever was. It isn't just about me anymore."

"Funny that you haven't mentioned what Sara wants it to be like."

I groaned. "She wants me to be a bit rougher again, I think."

He stilled across the desk. "What the f.u.c.k is the problem? You two are on the same page, you a.s.shat." Will leaned in, expression deliberately neutral. "You still doing . . . the club thing? At Johnny's?"

I'd always wondered how much Will really knew. Apparently, he knew quite a lot.

"We haven't in a long time," I admitted quietly, "not since she was pregnant. She wants to go."

"But you don't?" he asked, surprised.

"You fancy the idea of people watching you with Hanna?"

He started to nod, and then paused. "Yes, and no. I like the idea of people watching me unravel her, but I don't really want men fantasizing about her like that."

"See, and I don't mind that aspect. But take your feelings, and now imagine when Hanna's had your baby," I said. "When she's a nursing mum, and tired all the time and tiny the way Sara is. Yes, I f.u.c.king love her body right now but it all feels private and like if the world pushed her too hard I would break it in half with my bare hands. That it might break her. It didn't occur to me to feel like this when she was pregnant because there was nothing vulnerable about her, even when she was ready to pop. She carried herself like she knew she looked amazing. Now, if someone didn't appreciate how s.e.xy she is, I would put my boot up their a.r.s.e and kick out their teeth."

Will regarded me blandly and pretended to yawn.

"So you think this is me being over-f.u.c.king-protective."

"Like a d.i.c.k," he said. "Like you said, this is your kink. It may not be mine, but if Sara likes it, why do you think it has to be different just because you have a baby at home?"

I leaned back in my chair, shook my head at him. "This is a pretty intense heart-to-heart we're having. Breast milk, kink, marriage, and s.e.x with children in the mix. Can you handle it? When did you become a man, William?"

"Ha. This is nothing compared to some of the s.h.i.t Hanna wants to talk about," he said and then laughed. "I mean, look. Anna is four months old. You know when you go to a matinee and come out and it's still light out and you're blinded and disoriented for about five seconds until your photoreceptors-"

"Will. f.u.c.king focus."

"What I'm saying is, you're still stuck in those first five seconds. You've walked out of the building and have no idea what it looks like outside yet."

"Right. Good metaphor."

"You want to see some of your life you recognize. You want barely-inside-the-door s.e.x. You want breaking-furniture s.e.x. You want club s.e.x. And you want to do it with those amazing t.i.ts."

I gnawed my lip and then admitted, "Right."

"Let us watch the kiddo. We're her G.o.dparents, right?" He held up a hand, keeping me from answering. "I mean, I know you haven't decided yet, but we'd be way better than Chloe and Bennett because let's be real: they're a.s.sholes."

I burst out laughing. "Bennett knows kids, though. He has a niece."

"He's terrified of newborns. Henry says he held Sophia at arm's length until she could walk and then he never let her out of his sight. He's sure he'll break Anna with a stern glance. Which I don't doubt, if I'm being honest. He is scary as h.e.l.l sometimes. Hanna and I . . . we'll figure it out." Leaning forward, he winked. "We're scientists."

Chapter Four.

Sara For all the ways that Max, Bennett, and Will were alike, there were even more ways they were different. Bennett's first instinct was always to take charge, to work out the quickest way to get the upper hand and never let go. Max was the charmer-still one h.e.l.l of a businessman, but a bowl of sugar-the guy who knew you caught more flies with honey than vinegar. But Will was the thinker, the one who would puzzle out a situation and figure out exactly what the problem was so he could fix it. Which was why when Max suggested that Will and Hanna watch Anna while we attempted Dinner Disaster number two, I agreed. Will and Hanna were two of the smartest people I knew; if anyone could figure out how to crack the baby code, it was them.

We were both ready to go when they showed up at the apartment the next Friday night.

Will was wearing a T-shirt from some show I'd never heard of, and a wary expression on his face. Hanna-as usual-seemed to be getting a kick out of his nerves.

"You're not scared of a tiny little baby now, are you?" she asked as they stepped inside.

"Of course I'm not," Will said, unwrapping a blue scarf from around his neck. "But between eight and forty percent of babies get colic, Hanna. Eight and forty percent. That's almost half on the high end, and if you factor that into the number of babies born every year, then the chances that Annabel has-"

"She isn't colicky, you t.w.a.t," Max said, pulling him in far enough that he could close the door. "Hanna, I hope he's at least brilliant with your taxes or at the very least one h.e.l.l of a s.h.a.g."

"Both, actually," she said, and handed Max her jacket. "And don't worry, I babysat a ton growing up. Probably watched every kid in the neighborhood at some point. I'm really great with babies."

Will stepped up to her side, leaned in to wrap his arms around her and press a small kiss to her nose. "How is that even possible when you were so busy pining for me?" he asked, grinning.

Hanna shook her head and patted Will's face gently. "It's so cute how you think everything's about you," she said, and Max barked out a laugh. Will was our notorious womanizer, and to see that he had finally met the woman who knocked him on his a.s.s was amazing.

"Thank you, again, you guys," I said, pushing Will away so I could hug Hanna. "I'm not even sure optimism is the way to go, so I guess I'll just wish you luck."

"Don't be silly," Will said. "We-and by 'we' of course I mean Hanna-will take care of everything. I'm just here to open jars, kill spiders, and change lightbulbs if needed."