Epilogue
Cameron
“Time to wake up, Sweetbea,” I called softly as I pulled the blankets down Trix’s bare shoulder.
“No. Sleep time,” Trix mumbled, scooting awkwardly down the bed and trying to stay under the covers as I moved them.
“Got a big day today.”
“Don’t care. Need sleep.”
“You sure?” I leaned down and ran my lips over the poppies tattooed on her bicep, licking around the edges. “I can let you sleep for another hour, or you can have an orgasm.”
“Sleep,” she replied instantly, making me chuckle.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna work for me.”
“Does this really have to be a thing?” Trix gasped as she rolled onto her back. “I like orgasms as much as the next girl, but your sons kept me up all damn night.”
“Yeah?” I asked, running my hand down her huge belly. Every day, she woke up bigger, and I kept thinking, there’s no way she has any more room in there—and then the next day, she was even bigger than before.
“I love you,” she said sleepily.
“Love you, too, Sweetbea. Kiss me.”
“You’re gonna have to come down here,” she said ruefully, dropping her head back against the pillow. “I don’t think I’ll even be able to roll back over.”
I grinned as our lips met.
“Let me help you,” I murmured into her mouth, sliding my hand under her lower back to help her roll.
“I can’t believe you got me to sleep naked,” she said softly as I kissed my way down her back.
“Don’t fit in your pajamas.”
“I could have bought new—oh.” Her last word ended on a sigh as I slid my fingers over her pussy from behind.
“Happy I woke you up?” I asked as her breath hitched.
“Yeah.” She groaned. “Pretty soon, this isn’t going to work anymore.”
“Wrong.” I stated flatly, pushing her upper thigh toward the bed. “Just gotta be creative.”
I reached up to cover one of her tits with my hand as I canted my hips, sliding inside her easily.
Trix moaned into the pillow, then placed her hand over mine at her chest, lacing our fingers together. “Harder,” she ordered, pulling her thigh up even higher.
God, I loved yoga.
“Slow,” I argued. “We got time.”
She pressed my hand harder against her tit and arched her back, shoving her hips back against me.
“So impatient,” I said against the skin of her shoulder, making her growl.
I pulled my hand from her breast and ran my nails against the skin of her hip, making her jolt.
We’d figured out that Trix liked a little bit of pain, but she still couldn’t handle the sound of my hand smacking her ass. Fine with me—I just got creative.
A pinch here, a little scratch or bite there, and my woman went off like a rocket.
“Cam,” she moaned as I started to speed up, my fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh. She reached down and shoved my hand between her thighs. “You know I can’t reach,” she whined.
I laughed silently and found her clit, rubbing in circles as she tightened around me and came.
I followed her down the rabbit hole.
Goddamn, it got better and better every time.
“Sleep now?” Trix asked softly.
“Nope. Shower time.”
I climbed off the bed and burst out laughing when I realized that she’d somehow gotten hold of the blankets as I moved and had pulled them up and over her head.
* * *
“You sure you don’t want to come?” Trix asked as she stuffed half a granola bar into her mouth.
“Hell, no.”
“Oh, come on. We’re getting presents,” she complained as I ushered her out of our new house.
We’d moved into Slider and Vera’s old place a few months before, and Trix was still trying to put her stamp on it. I didn’t mind that she wanted to make the place ours, but swear to Christ, the FedEx delivery guy was stopping at the gates to the clubhouse so often, I think he was considering becoming a prospect.
“The boys are getting presents, I’m not gettin’ shit,” I said as I helped her into the car.
“Still—”
“Dicks don’t belong at baby showers,” I cut her off as I started her car and pulled down our driveway. “Only reason my boys are goin’ is because they’re stuck in there,” I said, pointing at her belly.
“Fine.” She pouted for a minute, then turned to me. “You think we’re lazy for not walking to my mom’s?”
“No, I think you’re a thousand months pregnant and shouldn’t be walkin’ that far.”
“Okay, so it’s just you that’s lazy.”
“Funny.”
Trix laughed merrily, reaching over to rest her hand on my thigh.
I loved when she did shit like that.
It took less than two minutes to drive to her parents’ house, and when we got there, the driveway was already crowded as hell with cars.
“They didn’t even leave room for me to drop you off,” I growled, parking at the back and heading around the door to help her out.
“I think I can walk thirty feet,” Trix said before she tripped in the gravel.
“Right,” I snapped, wrapping my hand around her waist.
My ma came out to meet us, her belly leading the way.
“You’re here!”
“You see how far back we had to park?” I barked, making her scowl at me.
“Ignore him,” Trix mumbled, tilting her head back for a kiss.
“Wait inside till I come get ya,” I ordered.
“Yeah, yeah. See ya later.”
I stood there watching as Trix pulled away and linked arms with Farrah, walked into the house and let the door slam in my face.
Then I turned toward the clubhouse. Lazy, my ass. I was walking.
* * *
“Moose!” Poet yelled out happily a couple hours later, pointing at Will. “Name’s Moose.”
“Where the fuck did you get that?” Casper asked incredulously.
We were all well on our way to shitfaced. The minute I’d walked through the front door, Casper dragged out the moonshine one of Poet’s contacts had sent down. The shit tasted like lighter fluid, it was so strong. Some asshole had probably made it in his damn bathtub.
“You’re not callin’ me Moose,” Will grumbled, shaking his head. “No.”
“Don’t got a choice, boy.” Grease said with a smile, tipping back in his chair. “Once it’s said, it’s yours.”
“Fuck,” Will hissed, taking another shot of moonshine.
“Gather round, children,” Poet yelled, laughing. “Shit, me beards in me fuckin’ booze.”
The table erupted in laughter as Poet tried to wring the moonshine out of his beard and back into the shot glass in front of him.
“Fuck it,” he mumbled, patting his beard against his chest. “Now fer the story of Will’s name.”
“There was once a president of these United States—”
“Jesus,” Dragon bitched, running his hand over his face. “Seriously, man?”
“Shut yer gob,” Poet shot back. “Now where was I?”
“The president,” I reminded him, my lips twitching.
“Right! In 1912, President Theodore Roosevelt was givin’ a speech in Milwaukee, Wisconsin—”
“This story have a point?” Will grumbled.
“—and a saloonkeeper shot him in the chest,” Poet continued. “Good old Roosevelt kept right on with his speech. Told the crowd, ‘Takes more than one bullet to kill a bull moose.’” Poet nodded, then pointed again at Will. “Moose.”
We all sat in dumbfounded silence for a moment.
“I got shot twice,” Will finally said, his voice devoid of emotion.
I laughed so hard I thought I was going to hack up that fucking moonshine.