Chapter Eleven #2
“Let me have some semblance of my life back. I understand your concerns, but you’re taking them too far, to the point where you are not protective—you’re mean.
I just want to see my friends, nurse my baby, and exist in the world in a way that works for me.
I’ll be whoever you want me to be in public.
I understand you married me to save your reputation.
You’re Beckett Myers, savior of the world, curer of cancer, a dashing billionaire who doesn’t have illegitimate babies with one-night stands.
Beckett Myers is a saint who falls in love with his sister’s best friend despite himself and disappoints all the women in the world who’ve fawned over the ineligible bachelor.
” She isn’t entirely correct, but right enough.
“If you want me to treat you like a woman in my world, then you’ll need to act like one.” Suddenly Rayne starts fussing, and Scarlett gently burps her and moves her over to suckle at the neglected breast.
My baby calms down immediately. It is impressive. I've seen babies wail and scream for hours, inconsolable, but my little one is content. I have a feeling it is because of her mother’s love and ease with her.
“You’re a natural,” I say in my own way, calling a truce.
“Here.” She stands up from her chair with her tits still out. “You can hold her.”
“She’s eating and is calm. I don’t want to disrupt that.”
I don’t really want to hold the child. I have held her on a couple of occasions. I am not afraid of my own daughter, but she is so delicate and tiny. I don't feel comfortable with her.
“Do you know the one thing your money will never buy me?”
“You don’t seem to have needs too far beyond my financial scope,” I quip back at her.
“Your money can’t buy a father who loved me.
Or even a father who knew me. My mom had no idea who my dad was, and none of the men in her world were ever safe enough to know.
Money can’t buy you being Rayne’s father.
Holding her, showing her that you’re there for her even now when she’s little—it’s priceless. ”
In that moment I see the woman she truly is, and I’d be a fucking liar if I didn’t admit to myself that I love what she is showing me.
“Fine,” I grumble, not wanting to give her too much power in this. I sit in the chair and try to make myself comfortable, preparing to hold my baby. “Isn’t she still feeding?” I don’t want her to gripe if she wasn’t done suckling her mother’s gorgeous tit.
“She’s just playing; she’s had enough.” Scarlett’s smile could ignite the world. “Arms out.” She hands the baby to me with her breasts on full display.
I am conflicted, wanting to hold my daughter but being aroused by her mother. “You should put those away; they’re very distracting,” I say.
Scarlett laughs gracefully as she closes her shirt and slowly buttons it up, knowing what she is doing to me. She has to know.
“These are hers,” she says with a sarcastic bite in her tone. “Your work here is done.” She undulates her gorgeous body and has me aching for her.
I turn my head to the baby.
Instantly, she steals my focus from her infuriating mother. The sweet little thing nestles into my arms, and I find myself stroking her hair, just as raven-colored as her mother's. Mine started going gray when I was in my early thirties, but I was brown-haired before I became salt-and-peppered.
Scarlett hands me a blanket with tiny pink bunnies—the softest, most buttery-feeling thing in the world. I tuck Rayne into it, and she nestles into my arms. I have to say, holding my daughter is one of the greatest things. I didn't realize how much I would enjoy it.
“See,” Scarlett says sweetly, though it is still a triumph for her.
And I won’t really let her win.
“I do,” I say, looking up at Scarlett to see she really hasn’t finished buttoning her blouse, and her tits are still pert and supple. I can’t wait until she stops breastfeeding so that they can be mine.
We stare at one another for a moment, and I consider calling a truce between us, but Gloria walks in. She is a stout woman with a commanding tone for one so short and robust.
“Oh,” she exclaims, startled to see me, I’m sure. “Mr. Myers, I wasn’t expecting you. It’s time for the little Rayne Drop’s bedtime.” I cringe at the nickname; my child is no drop in anything—she is a surge, a deluge—but I let it slide.
“Right.” I stand up carefully and hand Rayne to Gloria after placing a soft kiss on her silky smooth forehead.
Scarlett kisses her too, on the forehead and cheek, and then Gloria whisks our child away.
“Say good night to Mommy and Daddy,” Gloria coos, and it strikes me.
I’ve never heard our names used together like that—Mommy and Daddy. I’ve been called her father or Dad separately from Scarlett, but not together, like a family.
“Good night, my little one,” Scarlett says, looking on at our daughter fondly.
She says good night so I don’t have to. Walking back to her room, I catch up with her.
“Let me take you back,” I offer, placing my hand just above her gorgeous ass.
“You mean back to my cage?” She inquires and offers me one of her obligatory glares.
“To recover from birth, a skull fracture, and a myriad of other ailments, Scarlett,” I bite out her name.
“Two months ago, Igor.” She rolls her eyes to add to my vexation.
“I certainly hope you grow up before our daughter does.” We are near her room, so I open the door and let her in.
“I hope I don’t; she already has one Crypt Keeper for a parent.” She saunters into her room, and I grab her by her fucking infuriating hips, swaying as they do so perfectly balanced against her gorgeous body.
I press her up against the wall, my cock digging into the silk of her lounge pants.
“Tell me not to fuck you.” I am suddenly desperate for her.
I’ve abstained for too long. Two months is plenty of time to recover as long as I am not too rough with her.
“Use that smart mouth of yours on my cock or command me to leave.” I place my hand on the back of her neck, unable to stop myself from touching her.
“Leave,” she barely whispers, and I kiss those snarky lips, plunging my tongue in, having no desire to hold myself back.
When I pull away from her, I drink in those dark blue eyes. “Now. I mean it.”