Chapter 27
Goldie
My stomach churns throughout the drive without Lily —who we’re paying Layla to babysit at our house for the three nights we’ll be away—to the hotel we booked just outside of Fort Worth for our honeymoon, and I don’t think it has anything to do with my pregnancy.
Davis squeezes my hand and keeps flicking his eyes toward me every few minutes before returning to the highway. “You ok over there?”
I nod and swallow. “I’m fine.” I give him a weak smile, my hair still a rat’s nest after Davis caught up to me and pushed me down on my back in the gazebo by the lake to eat my pussy.
“You’re sweating, honey.”
“Oh. Sorry.” I pull my hand away to wipe it on my wedding dress.
“Morning sickness?”
I part my lips, panting shallowly as I hold myself around my middle. A tear slips out as I shake my head, turning to stare out the dark window at the blur of trees and open fields, stars glittering in the clear sky.
We’re silent for a few minutes until Davis takes the next exit but doesn’t stop at the gas station on the corner, where I’d assumed he was heading to gas up the Ford. You’d never guess it had been through a high-speed chase or been rammed into by a deputy after Davis had it taken to a body shop and returned to its former glory. The same can’t be said for the Buick, which Davis replaced with the newer Ford Explorer I picked out and claimed for myself.
Two left turns, and we’re back on the highway, pointed home.
My breath hitches. “What are you doing?”
He clutches his chest. “I’m not feeling so great either.” He gives me a wink. “Heartburn.”
“Do you need an antacid? I think there’s some in the glove compartment.” I pick through it, producing the bottle of antacids and popping the top open to shake out two tablets.
He puts his hand on my thigh and squeezes. “Nope. Different kind of heartburn.”
And then I get it, my smile growing stronger as my nausea abates, the same as his heartburn, as Davis picks up speed.
Davis
Goldie’s voice is pitched with concern when she asks, “Who’s truck is that?” She’s understandably suspicious of any vehicle she doesn’t recognize near our home, but this is one I know well.
“Russell’s,” I answer, pulling up our driveway and parking the Ford next to his white dually pickup behind Layla’s beat-to-shit sedan, held together by duct tape and a prayer.
“What’s he doing here?” She doesn’t wait for an answer and jumps out of the truck, leaving me to bring our bags inside as she heads to the front door.
Russell pinches the bridge of his nose before finally lowering his driver’s side window after I rap my knuckles on it.
“Hey, boss. Fancy seeing you here.” I’m grinning ear to ear, barely suppressing a chuckle as the tips of his ears redden, his face lit up by the house’s exterior flood lights.
He grumbles out something unintelligibly.
I put a hand to my ear. “What was that?”
He clears his throat. “Just keeping an eye out.”
I look past him and spot a pillow and blanket folded on the passenger side, an open blue and white cooler in the footwell, with bottles of water, sandwiches, and snacks stacked inside. “You planning on ‘keeping an eye out’ all night?”
He presses his lips flat.
“Or all weekend?”
Russell coughs and shifts in his seat.
“You getting sick, old man?”
Finally, Russell looks me straight in the face. “You shut the fuck up.”
The front door thumps closed, and we turn our heads to the side, watching Layla hobble across the porch, carrying a heavy duffel bag in one hand and a—“Is that a stuffed animal?”
Russell knocks me out of the way when he swings open his door, wearing black sweatpants with a gray sweatshirt and sneakers, rushing to help Layla. I cover my mouth so Layla won’t see me laugh when she stops on the top porch step, her eyes wide and hair pulled back from her face by a big headband with panda ears on top. She’s wearing big, fluffy purple slippers and a short nightgown with rainbows and unicorns.
When Russell takes her duffel bag, she pushes her headband off, hiding it and her white teddy bear behind her back. “What are you doing here?” Her voice is as high-pitched as Goldie’s was.
Russell mumbles even worse than before, turning fast to drop her duffel bag off at her car. He curses when the door opens after tugging on the handle. “You didn’t lock your car?”
Her brows crease in the middle as she moves onto the lawn. “This is a small town. I never lock my car.”
“Need I remind you that anything can happen, even in a small town?”
She rolls her eyes, and I automatically, like a total dipshit, spout, “Rule number two.”
They both turn their attention to me, and Layla giggles. “Goldie’s told the girls all about your rules. Which one is number two, again?” She taps her chin like she’s trying hard to think.
Russell shifts on his feet. “What rules?”
“Oh, that’s right. Do not give Daddy attitude.” She grants me a wide, innocent smile, cocking her head to the side.
“Jesus Christ,” I hiss under my breath.
Russell’s voice goes up an octave. “Daddy?”
“Fucking hell, Layla. I’m never going to hear the end of this,” I mutter, taking the steps to the front door.
“Don’t you curse at her,” Russell says with a growl, jabbing a finger toward me across the distance. “Apologize. Right now.”
I hold my hands up. “My apologies, Layla.”
She nods, turning her head back and forth between us, caught in the middle. “I’m gonna…go now.” She walks sideways with her hand still behind her back until she crosses in front of her car and throws the teddy bear and headband in the back seat.
Russell reverses his truck down the driveway, then Layla in her beater. Following a hunch, I walk down to the road and see that Russell has backed up further so that he’s behind her car when Layla pulls out. Russell rolls down his passenger side window and flips me off with his middle finger as he drives past while I laugh. He knows that I know that he’s going to follow her all the way home so he can keep an eye out until she’s safely inside her apartment. Good.
Now that that’s settled, I turn toward the house, my blood heating and heading south, my dick already hard by the time I make it inside, looking for my wife. My wife. God , I love the sound of that.
Goldie meets me in the darkened hallway with our bedroom door closed behind her. “Lily’s asleep,” she whispers, circling my waist and tipping her head back.
I grip the nape of her neck and bend to kiss her. “Happy to be home, wife?”
“Always,” she breathes out. “Thank you for turning around.”
She sounds embarrassed, and I tell her honestly, “I think I would have turned around the minute we got to the hotel anyway. I know Lily would have been safe with Layla…and Russell,” I add with a chuckle. “But the acid was eating away at my chest something awful.”
“Think we’ll ever be able to leave her? Go on vacation, just the two of us?”
I hum. “Maybe.”
“Or we could pay someone to go with us now that you’ve got that fancy promotion. Maybe get adjoining rooms?”
“Not sure working in the warehouse is all that fancy, but I like that idea.” I’ve been backing her up toward the spare bedroom throughout our hushed conversation. I push open the door, flick the light on, and continue steering her until she bumps into the queen-sized bed and is forced to sit.
I kneel on the carpet, my hands trembling as I shrug off my suit jacket, remove her satiny white heels, and then slide my hands up under her dress. I suck in a breath, my cock a steel pipe in my pants, when I stumble across the silky garter belt around her thigh. Goldie moans when I flip the hem of her dress up and follow the length of her leg with kiss after kiss until I can nip the garter belt with my teeth. She leans back with her hands on the bed when I lift her knee and drag the belt down, then off her foot, and stuff it in my pants pocket—a souvenir.
She’s panting hard, her eyes hooded when I lift her other knee, setting her feet on my shoulders as I kiss along her inner thighs until I get to the gusset of her thong, placing a kiss right in the center and inhaling deeply. She smells like me, and pride and possession have pre-cum wetting my boxer briefs.
When Goldie swivels her hips and drops her knees open, I hook a finger under the fabric to pull it to the side and find her clit with my thumb to massage it. “You ready for me, baby?”
“Uh huh.” Goldie moans and rocks her hips up into my touch.
She gasps when I lightly swat the outside of her thigh, then twist my wrist to ease a finger inside her wet pussy. “Try again, baby.”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready for you.”
“Good girl.” I reward her by sinking two fingers inside her and lowering my face to replace my thumb with my tongue, loving the way my wife’s arms give out when the pleasure gets to be too much to hold herself up.
Goldie bites her lips, digging her fingers into the black and gray plaid comforter—which she teased me about when she first saw it.
“Don’t have to be quiet in here, baby. I want to hear you scream for Daddy.”
She rewards me by dropping her mouth open with a long moan, breathing hard as I curl my fingers and suck on her clit until her hips are jerking off the bed with her orgasm.
I back up and stand, ripping at my button-down to get it off, fingers fumbling as I try to unbuckle my belt, getting frustrated when my zipper refuses to budge. “Fuck, I’m going to cum in my pants if I don’t get inside you right the fuck now.”
Goldie sits up, swats my hands away, and rips my zipper down. Before I have the chance to push her flat on the bed again so I can sink my cock inside her, she shoves my briefs down, fists my shaft, and takes half of me in her mouth.
“Oh, fuck, baby, that’s it.” I slip my fingers in her hair, alternating between dropping my head back on my shoulders with pleasure and then forcing my eyes open to watch her lips stretch around my girth as she takes me deeper and deeper.
Goldie wraps her arms around my hips and grabs my ass to pull me closer until I’m sliding down her throat. My toes curl in my brand-new pair of black western boots, and I cum within a minute.
I tug on her hair and yank my hips back to pull out of her hot mouth. “Shit, baby. Didn’t mean to cum without warning.”
Goldie licks her lips in a circle, then smacks them, giving me a mischievous smile. “Sorry, Daddy.” She slides her hands to my front, then up and down my torso, playing with the hair on my belly. I still can’t believe she finds me as sexy as I do her at my weight and age, but I won’t question it. There’s no need, not when she’s wearing my ring and soon my last name.
I yawn, and thinking the night is over—not entirely unhappy that I didn’t get inside her pussy since I already fucked her right before the wedding—I follow her across the room after she stands.
She holds up a finger, though, and I scratch my head when she disappears through the bedroom door, closing it behind her. I stumble back and grip my cock harshly when she returns a long ass three minutes later in a short silky negligee the same shade as her hair. It’s the items in her hands that have my knees weakening.
“Think you’re up for a little something extra?” she asks with a sultry tone.
My heart is pounding, blood rushing in my ears when she saunters closer, swaying her hips. She pops the cap of the small bottle in her left hand, the sound a shot down my spine. Then she pushes a button on the small purple vibrating dildo in her right, making it buzz. I swear I can already feel the vibrations in my balls.
I can’t catch my breath, my words shaky. “Holy shit. Where did you even get those?”
“From the girls. Bachelorette presents. Faye—I mean, someone said the vibrator should help make it easier.”
I’ll have to remember to thank the girls later.
Wait . That would be weird.
I’ll have to remember to have Goldie thank them later.
“And you’re sure you want to try that? Now?” I ask her, hoping to god she doesn’t back out.
Goldie pushes my pants down until they fall to my ankles. “Question is, are you? Or do you want to save it for later?”
I tug my boots off, kick my pants across the room, then sweep an arm around her back to pull her against my chest. “Oh, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this room before Daddy gets inside that tight ass of yours.”
Goldie giggles when I spin her around and press a hand between her shoulder blades to bend her over the edge of the bed. I think I might pass out, lightheaded with sheer excitement at what we’re about to do when she passes me the small bottle of lube, steps her feet out, and tilts her hips.
She squirms with the cool temperature when I squeeze out about half the bottle, covering her backside and pushing some inside her ass with my index finger. I can’t see much of her expression in this position, which I hate, so I flip her onto her back and manhandle her into the middle of the bed. Goldie gives me a questioning look.
“Need to see everything on your face when we do this.”
She nods, her cheeks pinkening, especially when I coat my cock and the dildo with lube.
Sitting back on my heels, I yank Goldie’s hips up my lap and push her knees up and out so she’s spread wide open for me. I line my crown up to her back entrance, pressing against it but not pushing in yet, then use the dildo to play with her clit. Her belly caves in, and she grips the comforter, arching her back.
I swallow hard. “Ready?”
“Yeah.” At the stern look I give her, she says, “Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”
Pressing the button to set the vibrator to a higher level, I grip her ass with my other hand as I push against her tight back hole, pull away, then push harder until my crown pops inside. Goldie sucks in a harsh breath, and I stop. “Are you ok?”
Goldie nods fast, squirming when I start moving the vibrator side to side. I accidentally press the button that amps up the vibration again, and her mouth drops open with a guttural moan.
“Fuck me, Daddy. Oh, god!”
With her obvious pleasure skyrocketing, I thrust my hips, sinking a good two to three inches inside her ass. “Still ok?”
“Yes! More!”
“Oh fuck, baby. Fuck, fuck!” Taking my time, I make slow, easy thrusts in time with the twist of my wrist until she’s swallowed three-quarters of my cock. When she screws up her face as if she’s in pain, I back off.
“No! Keep going, Daddy.”
I shudder, and with my next thrust, I’m fully seated. I have to stop and breathe, or I’m going to cum too fast again.
“More!”
“I can’t. Not yet. What else…” I grab the bottle of lube and squeeze some out on her pussy, though I doubt she needs it. But just in case, I trade places with the vibrator, massaging her clit with the pads of two fingers as I ease the purple toy inside her pussy.
The noise Goldie makes as I start thrusting the dildo in and out of her while I bite the shit out of the inside of my cheek to keep from cumming leaves me a shuddering mess, her inner walls contracting around my cock to the point of pain.
“Sweet Jesus, I’ve never felt anything so tight!” I lose the battle with my release, cum flooding her hot ass when she starts rolling her hips up and down. “Oh, baby, baby, fuck, I’m cumming!” I fuck her faster with the dildo, with only a few brain cells left to make sure I don’t get too rough with her. “Need you to cum with me,” I grit out, and she arches her back, drops her mouth open, and orgasms with a silent scream.
My vision starts to tunnel when at last, Goldie’s limbs and inner walls relax, and I can finally pull my cock out. I fight the urge to slump to the side and fall asleep, knowing we need to shower before Lily wakes up in the next hour or so. Goldie is absolutely no help at all as I stand on shaky legs and drag her across the bed until I can get my hands under her to haul her up in my arms. I stumble out of the room, leaning on the wall for support until we get into the hall bathroom.
Afterward, I carry my wife to our bedroom, then shuffle in and out of the kitchen with water and snacks. Goldie pushes the food away, her eyes already closed as she rolls onto her side in bed, naked and tucked in beneath the comforter. Chugging a whole bottle of water myself, I check on Lily one more time, asleep on her back, then slide in next to Goldie, spooning her.
“That was one hell of a honeymoon,” I mumble into her damp hair.
“Yeah. ‘Night, husband,” she says breathily. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, wife.” I kiss the back of her head, the happiest, luckiest trucker, man, husband, and father in the entire world.