30. Marley
30
MARLEY
T he brewery is crowded, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. One of the local bands is playing tonight and they always bring out a crowd. I spot Josie at a corner table with Andrew. He’s leaning down, whispering something in her ear, and she blushes hot red, shoving his chest to push him away.
They’re so freaking cute, it makes me sick. But in a good way. Not like the nausea that I’ve been dealing with the last month.
Josie spots me, immediately standing and pulling me into a hug. “Oh my god, you totally popped this week,” she sings.
“I know, it’s crazy. I had the tiniest bump last week, and now it’s like bam , there’s babies,” I reply with a laugh. I noticed this afternoon after I finished a session that my once soft stomach was no longer just my normal curvy bumps, but an actual baby bump. I pretty much made every excuse to look in the mirror the rest of the day, even making sure to take a few pictures to document it.
“Can I?” she asks, gesturing down to my belly.
“Of course.” I step back, giving her better access to rest a hand on my bump. “Oh my god,” I say, my eyes suddenly filling with tears.
“What?” Josie almost shrieks, her hands fluttering up my body as if to find something physically wrong.
“You’re going to be their aunt,” I say, my voice watery.
“Well, duh, we already knew that,” she replies with a laugh.
“I just never thought about it. I mean I knew you were going to be their aunt, but like… you’re their literal aunt.”
“You’re being dramatic,” Josie says, but I can see the little hints of tears in her eyes.
“I can’t help it,” I say, tears sliding down my cheeks. “Everything makes me cry right now. I cried yesterday because my studio is so pretty.”
“Oh, sweetie,” Josie croons, pulling me back into a hug.
A hand rubs up and down my back soothingly, but it’s not Josie’s. When we release each other, I see Beau standing right behind me, ready to care for me if I need. I hate that he feels like he has to be at my beck and call at every moment, worried I may pass out or something again.
“Andrew, look at Mar’s cute little bump!” Josie pulls her husband toward me. The man who was more of a brother to me than my own brothers smiles sweetly, his gaze full of affection.
“Look at you,” he states.
Before he can get another word out, Beau is turning me to face him, glancing down my body.
I let him stare, taking it in. He doesn’t do anything but stare until Andrew breaks the silence.
“Dude, why are you staring at her like you want to eat her? It’s weird.”
Beau is shaken from his stupor. “Sorry, just kinda crazy. I didn’t notice this morning,” he says, his voice quiet.
I nod. “It really is crazy.”
Thomas arrives at the table next, greeting everyone, and giving out hugs. He smiles brightly when Josie points out my bump, kissing me on the cheek. Beau has his arm wrapped protectively around me, and I swear he tightens his grip when Thomas does that, which is ridiculous. Thomas has been, and always will be, like a brother to me.
The band plays loudly in the background, so Beau leans forward to speak into my ear. His voice is low, tickling the shell of my ear. “Do you want water? Or maybe a pop or something? I bet if we coerce Jason enough he would give you something from his fridge.”
I chuckle. “Think he has juice boxes?”
Beau smiles. “I’m sure he does for when Lennie is here,” he replies. “I’ll go ask.”
I reach out, grabbing his arm as I laugh. “I’m kidding. I’ll just take some water, please.”
“You got it,” Beau answers with a wink. He squeezes me softly, kissing my temple before leaving Josie and I alone at the table.
“Alright, you gave me the bare minimum of information about the ‘how’ a few weeks ago, but I need more,” she says, pulling her hair up into a claw clip.
“I would expect nothing less,” I answer. We haven’t had any one-on-one time since the announcement and the chat we had that night and I know it’s been killing her.
“What finally broke the dam?” she asks. “Last I heard was how he almost kissed you at the rehearsal dinner.”
“Yeah… We danced at the reception, and he looked over at you and Andrew dancing, and said something along the lines of, ‘Did you ever think that would be us?’”
Josie practically swoons. She clutches a hand to her chest, jaw dropping in awe.
“From there, I actually ran, but he followed me. Wouldn’t let me get any farther, and followed me to my room. Then he just… kissed me. And we didn’t stop.”
“God, that sounds like something straight from a movie.” Josie’s listening intently.
I shake my head. “I avoided him for almost two months. I was scared, but what’s new? I didn’t want to lose him, but I guess I already lost him in that time.”
The fear of losing Beau inevitably made me distance myself. A self-defense mechanism that always seems to backfire when it comes to him. I’ll never forget the look on his high school girlfriend's face the day after he broke up with her.
Her face was pale as a ghost, thick black bags underneath her once bright shining eyes. She’d asked me if I knew why he ended things with her, or if I knew of a way to get him back. I’ve seen first hand what it looks like to lose him, and I know I wouldn’t survive it.
“One day we will get it through your thick head.”
I don’t get to reply. The men are returning back to the table, setting their glasses down in front of us. Beau passes me my water, and I sigh discontentedly.
“What?” he asks, instantly wary.
“I just miss their ales,” I reply, glancing at Josie’s drink.
“You’ll be able to have one in a few months,” he says, attempting to appease me.
“Yeah, six-plus months. If I breastfeed, I won’t be able to drink much then either, cause we can’t have drunk babies, Beau,” I snap. I can feel myself becoming irrationally angry, yet another perk of the mood swings I’ve been experiencing.
Beau covers his mouth with a slap, holding back a laugh. “No, we can’t have drunk babies.”
“It’s not funny, Beau!” I shriek.
“I know!” he crows. “I’m not drinking either.” He points to the table, but I’m focused on his face. “If you can’t drink, I figure I won’t either.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I scoff, but when I look down at his drink I see that he, too, has a glass of water. “Stop, you’re being dumb.”
“No, I’m not. I’m trying to do whatever I can to make this easier for you, and if me not drinking makes it easier, then I’ll do it.”
Tears prick my eyes. “Go get a beer,” I answer. When he doesn’t right away, I start to stand and head to the bar. “Fine, I’ll get one for you.” I’m fully aware of how ridiculous I’m being, but he’s breaking down my walls, one crack at a time, making it harder and harder to keep my ground around him.
Beau stops me with a hand to my waist, setting me down in my chair. “Fine,” he mutters.
I sink into my chair a bit, happy that he finally listened to me. “Thank you,” I say.
“Whatever you want, Marley, you tell me, and I’ll do it,” he says, turning to head back to the bar.
A few minutes later, Beau is back, and we rejoin the conversation, laughing and all around having a good time. I notice that Beau hasn’t had more than a sip of his beer, but at least he got one. We haven’t gone out like this in a long time, not since before Josie and Andrew’s wedding, which may be partly my fault. I was avoiding him at any cost.
A hoot of excitement leaves Andrew’s lips as his best friend, Isaac, and his wife, Megan, appear at the table. Megan sits down on my other side, pulling me into her grasp. “I’ve missed you,” she murmurs into my ear.
“Sorry,” I say with a slight wince. “Things have been… hectic.” We haven’t told anyone outside family yet, but Megan is also one of my best friends, so after I spilled the beans at Thanksgiving, I told her I was pregnant. She almost burst my eardrum out with how loud she screamed on the phone.
“You don’t need to apologize,” she says. “Things have been nuts for us too. Isaac’s been prepping for all the holiday events and weddings, and I’ve been picking up some extra call shifts, so don’t be sorry.”
I nod into her embrace.
“I invited Fallon too, I hope that’s okay. She was able to get a babysitter tonight, which never happens.”
“Of course,” I say. “It will be nice to see her again.”
Fallon arrives a few minutes later, sitting in between Josie and Megan. “Hey, everyone,” she greets almost shyly. Her honey blonde hair is down in loose waves past her shoulders, and she’s in a deep green sweater and leggings with the cutest pair of boots.
We chat off and on for a while until Jason pops in from the back. “Hey,” he greets. His eyes scan the table until they land on Fallon. For a brief moment, they hold on to her, but she’s engrossed in a conversation with Josie, so she doesn’t realize.
Everyone else does though. Thomas coughs, clearly trying to gain his brother’s attention. It pulls him out of the trance, and he goes back to making conversation. Interesting .
My eyes start to grow heavy as the night continues, and soon it’s nearing nine-thirty, and I’m ready for bed. I poke Beau in the side when there’s a lull in conversation.
“Beau?” I ask, almost worried he’s going to be disappointed.
He turns on his stool, shifting his full attention to me. “Yeah, butterfly?”
I giggle, remembering how he used to call me that when we were kids. I’ve always loved butterflies and what they represent. “Will you hate me if we go home?”
His brows furrow. “I could never hate you. Are you okay?” His concern is so sweet.
“Yeah, just really tired,” I say, a yawn escaping me as if my body needs to prove its point.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” he asks, standing immediately.
“Cause, we’re both having fun, and I wasn’t ready to go until now,” I explain.
He narrows his eyes like he needs a moment to convince himself that I’m telling the truth. When he’s content, he stands from his stool, grabbing his phone off the table. “We’re heading out,” he announces, offering his hand to me, helping me stand from my own stool.
We say our goodbyes, getting hugs and promises to do this again sooner rather than later. Beau helps me into my winter jacket, and leads us outside to his car.
The brisk air sends a shiver through my body. I huddle into my jacket a little more, cursing myself as my nipples pebble from the cold. They’ve been aching so bad, but I wanted to try and keep them for at least another week or two, but I think I’ll have to take the piercings out when I get home. They’re killing me.
Beau curses under his breath. “Shit, I should’ve started the car to warm it up before bringing you out here.”
I laugh. “You’re ridiculous. It’s winter, Beau. Things are going to be cold no matter what. I can handle it. We’ve lived with it our entire lives.”
“I know we have, but still. I want to take care of you,” he grumbles.
“You are,” I reply honestly. He’s been almost smothering me with how attentive he is, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it. Well, depending on my mood that is. Every morning he makes sure my water bottle is full of ice cold water, and he’s held my hair back as I puked more than once. It’s sweet, if not a little gross, that he has to see me puke so much.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat as each bump rubs the sensitive peak of my nipples.
“You okay?” Beau asks, glancing over as he continues to watch the road.
“Yep.” I shift in my seat, tugging at my nylon jacket to adjust the fabric underneath that is making me so unbelievably uncomfortable.
Beau, of course, doesn't reply, because he knows me, and he knows that I’m not okay. “I’m fine,” I reiterate, my irritation only growing.
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
Beau pulls over, shifting the car into park and turns his body, narrowing his eyes on me.
“Marley,” he scolds.
“Beau,” I imitate his voice with an almost nasally tone.
He stares me down, not giving in. After a beat, he raises his brow, and I crack. “God, why do you have to be so freaking irritating?” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest, and immediately regretting it. I let out a pathetic sounding whimper at the contact.
“Marley,” he repeats my name. “What is going on? Are you in pain?”
“I don’t want to tell you,” I murmur, dropping my chin to my chest in my embarrassment.
“You know you can tell me anything. That doesn’t change because we had sex, or because you’re pregnant.”
My cheeks heat to an absurd degree, and I give up the fight. “My nipples are really sensitive, and they hurt,” I mutter, speaking fast and low.
“What?” he asks.
“My nipples are really sensitive, and they hurt,” I repeat, practically yelling now.
“Oh,” is his only response.
“Yeah, but you’re the one who made me say it, so you can’t be uncomfortable. You did this to me!” I lean over, poking him in the middle of his chest.
He runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. He swallows thickly, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s turned on. His cheeks are flushed, and he’s shifting in his seat. His eyes have the same glazed over look from the night of the wedding.
When he speaks, I shudder at the deepness of his voice. “Do you need to take them out? Dr. Ness did say if they made you uncomfortable that you should.”
I sink back, resting my head against the headrest. “I probably should, but I love them so much.” A hint of sadness creeps in, but Beau surprises me.
“I do too,” he says.
I feel my eyes widen, and I do whatever I can to not look at him. I cough slightly, shifting in my seat again. A low pulse thumps between my thighs, a burning ember of heat rising up my core.
“I just mean,” he stammers. “I mean… I don’t know what I mean, or what to say, because I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love them.”
I ignore him. Can’t process thoughts. “Anyway, things are really really sensitive nowadays, and I don’t think the piercings are helping. I’ll probably take them out tonight.”
He nods, and thankfully sits straight in his seat, pulling the vehicle back out onto the road toward home. After a long minute of awkward silence, he speaks. “I saw a really nice house today while doing a showing.”
“Cool,” I mutter, not really focused on the conversation, as I’m still trying to get over our last one.
“It got me thinking. We should really look into getting something bigger.”
I sigh. I know this isn’t an easy topic. I need to stay strong on this, before I hit the point of no return. I’m losing the battle, letting myself get closer and closer to giving in, to just letting myself fall into this. But I need to be the one to control the situation. “Why? We both have houses, and I have the guest bedroom we can put the cribs in,” I deflect, because deflection is my greatest skill.
“When you bought your house, we didn’t know what we do now, and we didn’t know that in just under six months we’d be bringing two babies home to it. It’s too small, and so is my house. We need something bigger, something that will fit all four of us.” He tries to reason with me, but I can’t do this right now.
“No, it’s fine. You can sell your house and get something bigger if you want, but I’m keeping my house,” I reply stubbornly, ending the conversation.
When we arrive home a few minutes later, I’m so ready to get these piercings out it’s not even funny. I shuck my jacket onto the couch, kicking off my shoes and heading down the hall to my room.
“Marley?” Beau asks, confusion thick in his voice.
“Fine!” I call back. I cannot have him bear witness to this. Once my door is closed, I whip off my black long sleeve, and unhook my bra, shimmying it down my arms.
The relief of not having my breasts condensed into the bra is palpable, but it only lasts for a moment. My nipples are swollen and red. They’ve been gradually getting more and more sensitive, but I’m at a breaking point.
I try to twist the little ball to loosen it from the curved barbell, but I can’t get it. I huff out an irritated noise as I step forward to the long mirror hanging from the back of my bedroom door to get a better angle.
I take a deep breath, and try again, this time looking in the mirror as I try to twist. When it doesn’t budge, I try the other side, only to have the same result. I groan, my irritation growing higher and higher with each passing moment. I flop down on my bed, staring at the ceiling. I don’t want to ask for help, but I might need it. I can’t get the angle right, and every brush against my nipples is like a mix of pain and pleasure.
A knock on the door answers my internal struggle. “Marley, I can hear you muttering to yourself from the hall. What’s going on?”
I curse myself for always talking out loud. It’s time to bite the bullet. “I can’t get my nipple piercings out. The ball is too tight.”
The door cracks open slightly, but not enough to where he can see in. “Can I help?”
I think for a moment, knowing fully that I need him, but also knowing that I’m going to have to give up a shred of dignity. I stand up, grabbing my cotton robe from where it’s laying on top of my laundry basket. I wrap myself in it and stride over, opening the door to Beau. My heart is pounding in my chest with a weird sense of anticipation on what’s about to happen.
I open the door slowly, and Beau is standing there in only his low-cut black sweats. I swear, he’s been trying to smoke me out the last few weeks, walking around shirtless. Nevermind the fact that my hormones are all over the place,—it’s making me horny as hell.
My clit thumps in agreement as I take in Beau’s many tattoos. He side-steps into my room, closing the door behind him, as if we have to maintain privacy from someone, but it’s just us here. No one else to see what he’s about to help me with.
“Are they stuck?” he asks, eyes blazing with concern.
I shake my head. “No, I just can’t get it loose.”
He stands in front of me, eyes blazing as he focuses his gaze on my still covered chest. “I just need to unscrew it, right?”
“Yes, then I can take it out.”
Beau sighs, stepping toward me. He reaches out slowly, hesitantly to the tie around my waist. Eyes lifting, he arches his brow. “Ready?”
I nod, turning my face away. I don’t want to see his reaction to seeing my bare breasts again. Our night together lives in my mind on a constant loop, so I don’t need to add another moment to my personal spank bank.
I feel the tie come loose, the cool air wafting against my skin. Beau inhales sharply as he takes in the swollen tips of my nipples. He tries to cover it with a cough, but I know what it was.
“Ready?” he asks yet again, his voice low and gravelly.
I say yes, and then Beau’s fingers are on my right breast. He tries to twist the ball, but it doesn’t give. I yelp at the sensitivity, cringing at the way it sounded more like a moan than anything. Beau lowers himself slightly, now eye-level with my breast.
He focuses intently on trying to get it off, but it’s not working. Every touch is sending zings through my body, straight between my legs. My pussy is pounding, and I can feel my underwear getting wet. Why is this so fucking hot? This shouldn’t be sexy, shouldn’t be turning me on, and yet, it is.
“Fuck,” he curses. His hands shake ever so slightly. “Why is this so hard?”
“I don’t know,” I whimper.
“Lay down, I might be able to get a better angle that way.”
I do as he says, laying flat on my back on top of my comforter. Stupidly, I look at Beau, and holy fuck. His eyes are glazed over as he rakes his gaze across my body. I want to hide for just a moment, but I’m locked, unable to move from the intensity.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Marley,” he utters, his voice cracking.
I flush, turning my face away, but not before I see the tent in his sweats. He’s hard.
I feel the weight of his body as the bed dips, and I inhale, trying to get my body to calm. My nipples are tingling again, but not from the sensitivity, no. They’re aching to be touched.
Beau’s fingers caress the skin of my breast softly as he slides up to the barbel again. After a long moment of twisting and gentle tugs, I feel the rod slide free. A sense of relief rushes through my body, similar to the release of an orgasm.
I moan as Beau slides his hand to the other breast. It’s not a clinical touch, it’s sensual, and it’s everything I need right now. The pressure between my thighs is building, and I feel so empty, so needy for him. My eyes are closed tight, trying to memorize each moment, each feeling and fleeting touch.
Beau gets to work on the other barbel, and with each graze of his fingers over my nipples, I yearn more and more for his touch.
It’s only when I feel the stubble of his beard across my nipple that I realize what’s happening.
His lips take my nipple into his mouth, the one with the piercing still in place, and he sucks gently. His tongue flicks the piercing as he nips at my skin. My hips involuntarily roll into his body, my mouth dropping open.
It’s such a mix of pain with the best kind of pleasure that I don’t know how to react. “Beau,” I gasp his name, my hand reaching up to wrap in his hair, clutching him to my chest.
“Please don’t make me stop,” he murmurs against my skin.
“No,” I cry as he flicks his tongue again. His free hand reaches up, cupping my heavy breast in his large hand, fingers toying with the other nipple. “Oh god.”
He groans into my chest, kneading my breast in his hand. My eyes fly open and I turn my head to look at him. Consequences be damned, I need to see this moment, need to sear it into my brain. Beau opens his eyes at the moment I do, and he lifts his mouth off me with a pop. When our eyes meet, it’s like a frenzy begins. Beau lifts his body to straddle my hips, being mindful of my small bump.
“Holy fuck,” he mutters, and then his mouth is devouring mine. His tongue slides into my mouth, moving together. His erection is hard against my stomach, one hand tangling in my hair as the other continues to cup my breast.
My body is hot, his touch lighting up all my senses and every ounce of neediness that I’ve withheld for weeks.
Beau kisses down my neck, between my breasts, then is back on my nipples again. I moan with every touch, my body so desperate for him. He glances up as he slides his fingers down to my leggings, I nod frantically, giving him the go ahead.
In the back of my mind, I know this is bad, that I should be keeping my distance from him, but I don’t want to stop. I can’t stop. My leggings are down and on the floor in an instant, leaving me shaking in only my granny panties. I should invest in better underwear, but these are just so comfortable, and finding things that are comfortable lately is hard.
Beau groans when he sees the wet spot in the center. His finger slowly traces the outside of the fabric, feeling the wetness I’ve made. “You need this, don’t you, butterfly?”
I’m nearly quivering as I nod. “Please,” I groan. Beau’s eyes soften, taking in my body in front of him. He slides his hand up to rest on my stomach. He’s never done this, never touched where our babies are, and the love and adoration in his eyes is so pure and raw.
He bends down, pressing two soft kisses to my bump. “Gorgeous,” he mutters. Then he’s moving again, sliding my panties down. I haven’t shaved since I found out I was pregnant, so things aren’t exactly prim and proper down there.
“Sorry,” I say, hiding my face in embarrassment.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” Beau states, using his hand to softly guide my face to look at him. “I fucking love your body. Every inch, every curve, dimple and soft edge. I love every single thing about it. I don’t care if you haven’t shaved, I will still devour this pussy like it’s my last day on earth. I. Love. It.”
To further prove his point he latches his mouth to my soaked cunt, his tongue hitting all the right spots. When he slides his fingers inside, curving and pumping them in and out, I’m gasping his name, writhing into his touch.
He works me over and over, giving me everything I need until I’m coming, my pussy clenching around his fingers, fluttering and aching for more even as I’m still coming down from the high.
I’m gasping, sucking in long gulps of air and shivering as Beau continues his delicious torture on my body. One finger from his free hand moves upward, and traces the outline of the tattoo across my ribs, the stem of the flower, the butterfly, the leaves, the petals.
“That’s my girl,” he says so quietly I’m not convinced I heard him. There’s movement across my stomach and skin, then a soft tug and twist on my left nipple pulls me out of my haze. Beau slides the other piercing out, dropping it onto the bed next to me. I can’t move, my limbs and body so exhausted and wrung out from pleasure.
Beau takes my robe, covering my body with the fabric as I shiver. “Can’t have you cold,” he says with a soft chuckle.
I nod, words not computing in my brain yet. I feel more relaxed than I have in months.