Page 16 of Spring Fling
“Shhhh,” Logan purrs, the bastard. “You’ll wake the, baby.” How can he expect me to be quiet when he’s licking me like his favorite lollipop and sucking on the little bar in my pussy?
“You are going to pay for this, Logan James,” I manage to snarl in between moans of pleasure. I ignore his snicker, grabbing a pillow to put over my face just in time to scream as my orgasm hits me like a freight train.
He laps at my sex until my shudders calm and I’m breathing somewhat normally. His body hair rubs softly over my skin as he slides up until we are pressed to together from chest to toes.
The pillow lifts from my face and he grins down at me. “You’re such a jerk!” I hiss. “I just got Lana down for the night and if you make me scream and wake her up, I swear to all that is holy, Logan. You will be the one getting up with her for an entire month.”
He chuckles and kisses the sour expression right off of my face. The threat is pointless anyway. Logan is an amazing father and he gets up with our little girl as often as I do. Especially now that classes for fall have resumed. From the estimated date of conception, I’d gotten pregnant with Lana the first time we hadn’t used protection. So, I managed to cram in a semester of summer school before she was born, taking more credits than seemed humanly possible. Luckily, I seemed to have an overabundance of energy while pregnant instead of worn down. Then did the same each semester for the next year. It’s been much harder this time (apparently, being pregnant is like a nine month shot of caffeine for me) but, this means I am on my last year of school. And just in time.
“Baby, is there something you want to tell me?” Logan’s voice is smug and it makes me think ... no, how he could he possibly know? I threw the test in the trash bin before I set it on the curb this morning!
I narrow my eyes in suspicion when he grins and inks at me. “Did I put another baby in this sexy little belly?”
I gasp. Well, shit. “How did you know?” He’s completely ruined the surprise I have planned.
He licks his lips and then kisses me, my essence still lingering. When he lifts his head again, he grins. “I can taste it.”
“What?” I ask incredulously.
Laughing, he pecks the tip of my nose. “There is something about the way you taste when you’re pregnant, sweeter somehow. Not better, just different.”
My mouth turns down in a pout. “Well, you’ve ruined all my plans now.”
He laughs again and I roll my eyes because it’s very clear that he doesn’t care. He looks like the cat that ate the canary, puffed up and completely satisfied.
His toothpaste commercial-worthy smile is contagious though, and I find myself grinning back at him like an idiot.
“I love you,” I admit with a quick kiss on his lips.
He growls and firmly grips my chin. “What have I told you about kisses like that?” His mouth slams down over mine and he shows me what it is to kiss like you mean it. I admit it, I give him those little kisses so he’ll demonstrate ...
His kisses lead to a mind-blowing bout of epic, albeit it muffled, fucking. Logan learned all about how to drive me wild when I’m overly sensitive with pregnancy hormones.
When it comes to my wife, I don’t think I’m ever going to completely lose my stalker tendencies. Like right now, as I watch her sleep. She’d probably think I was crazy if she knew that sometimes I watch her for hours. She’s so damn beautiful. And all fucking mine.
I can’t begin to process the amount of joy coursing through my body at the knowledge that she is carrying our second baby. Abbi was determined to get her degree and I fully supported it, but it wasn’t easy to get to this point with a pregnancy and a newborn. I was new to my position at Boston College and even though I’d received an “informal” talking to when it came out that I was engaged to and had impregnated a former student, I kept my position. Apparently, nobody ever did the math and realized I’d fucked my baby into her while she was still my student. In fact, I’d bet I knocked her up that first time on the desk in my classroom.
Unfortunately—well, that depends on who you ask I guess, Abbi’s parents still refuse to have any contact with us. I’m not heartbroken over it, but I hate what it does to my wife. Our little ray of sunshine, or impaling her on my dick are usually the most effective cure.
I brush away a stray curl and kiss her forehead before laying down. A spring fling. How could I have ever thought she was nothing more than that. Thank fuck my stupid ass recognized the love of my life before I let her go.
“No. Absolutely not, there is no fucking way my daughter is wearing that to school,” I roar.
Lana’s big blue eyes fill with tears and I struggle to keep from letting it get to me. My seventeen-year-old daughter has the crocodile tears trained to perform on command.
One more look at her short, plaid skirt, knee socks, and too thin, white blouse, and I’m fortified against the waterworks.
“No, baby girl,” I state resolutely. “Unless you want to go to an all-girls school where that is the standard uniform, go change your clothes.”
She seems to realize I’m not going to budge because she spins around and stomps out of the kitchen. I sigh in relief. There is a damn good reason I chose to enroll my girls in schools that don’t require a uniform. Of all people, I know what a temptation they are to boys and ... I can’t think about boys in conjunction with thoughts about my two baby girls. If I do, I’m libel to commit multiple acts of murder.
A muffled giggle catches my attention and look over to the sink from my perch at the table. Abbi has her hands clasped across her mouth, her shoulders shaking violently as she tries not to laugh out loud. I narrow my eyes and stand, prowling toward her and caging her in between my arms once I reach her.
“How could you let our little girl wear that to school, Abigail James?” I growl. She giggles again and that’s when I realize, the joke is on me. “You didn’t, did you?”
Finally, she can’t contain it and she bursts out laughing, her head falling to rest on my chest.
“I was going to tell her to go change but I thought it would be more fun to see you flip your shit.”