Chapter 24
twenty-four
DANE
There are worse ways to spend an afternoon than your old lady straddling you. Forcing myself to relax tense fingers on her hips, she grinds down on my cock, head tossed back with a moan as pleasure washes over her body. I kiss the arm looped around my neck as she shudders, skin flush, nipples rock hard, head thrown back. I need more friction, more time inside of her. Waiting until she’s slumped into me, I roll us, keeping myself inside of her moist slick heat. Her pussy clutches my cock as I pump into her with short hard thrusts. Darcy moans loudly as I angle to hit her G-spot, back arched, nails biting into my flesh. My balls begin to tighten, lights dancing around my eyes as my stomach muscles go tense as a bow string. She clamps down on my dick with a whimper and lightning shoots up my spine. With one more thrust, I fill her pussy with hot spurts of cum. I resist the primitive urge to pull out and mark her skin…my seed needs to stay inside of her for now.
We’re both breathless, and sweaty. Her skin is flush, covered in marks from my beard.
Supporting myself with my arms, I mutter into her ear, “This is my pussy. No playing with it unless I say so. We’ll get you a toy so we can have a little fun together when I have to go on rides. I say when and where you use it though.”
Her eyes dilate, and a sensual smile grows on her face. I roll us to our sides and she tucks into me. Darcy rubs her hands up and down my chest as we share a slow lazy kiss. I brush the hair away from her face, lost in the surrealness of the moment. I love the way our scents mix, the way her curtain of dark hair drapes long onto the bed, grazing my arms and hand.
My mind’s at peace, a rare occurrence these days. Now that Darcy’s here with me, our shared future clear on the horizon, my obsessive need to keep her is only growing with each second.
She lifts her head from its resting place on my chest and gives me a sweet smile. “We were supposed to run to Thibodaux.”
I make a disgruntled sound at the reminder and caress my hands down the bare skin of her back. “I’d rather stay where we are. I’m not finished with you yet.”
“The only thing in the kitchen is ketchup packets and Mardi Gras throw cups from five years ago,” she argues.
“Those Mardi Gras throw cups are from the Rex parade I’ll have you know. That’s practically fine china.”
She lets out a satisfied yawn. “Come on, Big Guy. If we pick up Owen now we can still do a quick stock up.”
“Or we could eat dinner at Polly’s and stay in bed,” I tempt. “You don’t need pots and pans anyway. I’ll call Bobbi Jo and have her bring some of the meal prep from the compound.”
“You’re the only man I know who doesn’t want his woman in the kitchen.”
“That’s because I want you in the bedroom as often as possible.”
She shoots me a reproachful look, and climbs off of the bed. “I need dish soap and a few other things tonight regardless. We might as well get it over and done with.”
With a reluctant groan, I crawl out and start throwing my clothes back on, tucking my still wet cock into my jeans. I smell like us, the hit of dopamine I need to make it through the long night ahead of me.
Darcy’s cleaned up and thrown on a pair of panties and yoga pants before I can blink. Her breasts still enclosed in tantalizing black lace, she starts digging in her purse. I watch hypnotized by the swell of flesh overfilling the low cups, the peek of rosy nipples through the fabric. I don’t respond when she says, “I think they left all my pony tail holders in the bathroom but I think I have one in here…”
My dirty daydream ends abruptly when she starts searching deeper into the bag, eyebrows drawing together. Walking over to the bed, she dumps out the contents, rummaging through it all spread out on the sheet, and I have zero doubt what it is she’s looking for now.
Well…here we go.
I finish dressing to the boots, ready for whatever the fuck is about to happen as she sorts through the contents.
“I can’t find my pills…” she says confused.
“They’re at the compound,” I clarify, tossing on my cut.
She lets out a relieved sigh. “We’ll have to run back and get them.”
“Can’t. They’re in the bayou.”
She blinks up at me. “Wait, what?”
I look her dead in the eye and carefully enunciate, “Your pills are swimming in the bayou.”
“And how exactly did that happen?”
With no repentance I announce, “I threw them in there.”
Her jaw drops. “Dane, this isn’t funny. We’ve had sex. A lot of sex in the last twenty-four hours and they’re progesterone pills. They rely on you taking them at the same time every day.”
“You forgot yesterday’s,” I say, putting my wallet in my pocket, and attaching the chain to my belt loop.
“So you decided to just throw out my contraception?”
“The way I see it, it’s our contraception,” I correct. “It’s our baby you were preventing and our sex life.”
“So you made the decision for us?” Her lips are flat as she holds up an impatient hand. “I’m not even having this discussion with you. I’m just going straight to the pharmacy and getting it filled again.”
“Pharmacy closes at four today,” I mention. A fortunate byproduct of a small town. Wonky store hours for all businesses.
“Well you can bet I’ll be there first thing in the morning!”
She tosses the contents of her purse back into her bag with furious movements, looking through it all for the elastic band. I pull one out of my pocket and come up behind her, handing it to her like a peace offering. “You shouldn’t bother. I’ll only get rid of it.”
“Well good luck with that. I’m going to make sure your sticky little fingers can’t find them.” She zips up the purse with an angry flourish. “Why? Why would you do this?”
In a matter of fact tone, I answer, “I want to be tied down to you in every single way I can be and that means tying you down too. I did this because you run when you’re afraid. Because I’m worried some part of your brain thinks I’m still playing games. You’re my old lady, and as far as I’m concerned, Owen’s ours. This also means that I’m yours, here through thick and thin for the next eighty or ninety years. So put on your damn shirt so we can pick up our son before I get distracted again and decide to fuck your tits.”
I turn on my heels and march down the hallway, ignoring the shocked expression on her face. A tennis shoe flies past me, hitting the wall. “You have terrible aim,” I taunt without looking back.
“Go to hell!”
* * *
Swinging open the door to the only pharmacy in town, I scan the rows of metal display shelves for any other patrons. It’s empty except for its proprietor, Clark Chauvin. He’s behind the only register, right in front of the prescriptions, his entire body still, and terror on his face. Unfortunately for him, this is where Darcy had her prescription filled. It will be her first stop on her lunch break I’m sure. She tried to slip away twice last night while we were shopping, headed straight to the pharmacy for a morning after pill.
Tried.
With each attempt she never made it further than a few yards before I led her back to our cart as she muttered angry promises under her breath she’d never keep.
Retribution was found in another form, or so she thought anyway. I insisted Darcy buy whatever she wanted for the house. She’d given me a haughty laugh and marched straight into the store, filling three overflowing buggies with not only cookware and dishes, but a girly comforter and sheets, fluffy towels and a new shower curtain for each bathroom. She glowered when I threw in the matching bath mats. My only purchase was in the women’s clothing aisle. I bypassed all the lingerie and picked out several of the nursing gowns.
Easy access. Gotta love it.
Was it bad that I purposefully took her to Target? It’s like a vortex for women to get lost in for hours. As I hoped, her temper dampened to a simmer as she went aisle by aisle. On the flip side, I loved every second of it, watching Darcy sniff candles and inspect thread count on sheets for us to make love on, making our house a home.
I want Darcy comfortable, especially since I’m hoping she’s expecting soon…with the good pharmacist’s help of course. His Adam’s apple bobs as I approach, skin a sickly pallor as every move I make is watched with wide eyes.
Swooping up all of the boxes of the morning after pills on display by the register, I toss them onto the counter. Clark doesn’t blink at the excessive pile of contraception, but leans in to whisper, “I gave Couyon everything I have yesterday. If you can just give me two more weeks….”
Ignoring his plea, I nod toward the pink and purple boxes. “Keep these behind the register, and don’t sell them to any Bayou Dog property.” I cover my face with an unreadable mask when I ask, “Do you have a prescription for Darcy Richards?”
Little things like privacy laws are ignored when he taps on his little keyboard and goes to retrieve the contents from a long white shelf. He hands it to me with shaky fingers, not asking for payment. He wouldn’t dare. “She called it in for a refill about an hour ago.”
I open a cardboard package and remove the foil square. “Replace this with anything safe for a nursing mom. Do it quickly. She’ll be around any time now.”
He doesn’t bother arguing with me, not as in debt to the club as he is. Instead, he just stammers out an agreement as I turn to leave with a smile.
I can’t feel bad for my actions. I mean yeah, Owen isn’t quite two months old, but plenty of kids are born close together. That's assuming it doesn’t take a while for Darcy to conceive. The “what ifs” still concern me. Something tightens in my chest, the thought of never holding another baby.
I know our next baby will come when it’s time. With as large of a family as I’m hoping for, I want to get started now. It’s infuriating to me. I missed seeing Darcy’s belly round with Owen, didn’t get to watch him come into this earth, or all of the little thousand moments of pregnancy. Call me a greedy man, but I want all of that with her.