Chapter 25

I wouldn’t do anything for a Klondike Bar, but I’d do some sketchy shit for a cup of coffee.

-Text from Truth to Verity

Verity

“You’re fucking crazy,” I told my husband. “Get the hell out of here so I can get dressed.”

“We need to sell one of our houses. Mine is the logical choice.”

His was the logical house to put on the market, but I’d grown to love it here.

“Did you give your dad his sword?” Truth asked, ignoring my instructions and lying down on the bed where all of my clothes were laying.

“Yes,” I grumbled. “You’re on my shirt,” I yanked it out from under his head, causing him to curse. “Does this make me look fat?”

Truth, not a stupid man, denied my words.

“No,” he said. “You’re pregnant…not fat. They’re completely different things.”

That was true.

Apparently, nobody had shared with him that I was pregnant, or me, for that matter. Though, everyone swore they did.

I was chalking it up to my pain killer-induced haze.

Who knew what Truth’s excuse had been.

My lips twitched as I remembered Truth’s reaction to finding out what I suspected to be a pregnancy.

***

“Oh, God,” Truth dropped to his knees beside me, his hand on my back as he ran his large palm up and down the length of my back. “You’re not dying, are you?”

“No,” I said.

It came out more like ‘Nlooogoooooooarghhhhh,’ though as I tried to speak and throw up at the same time.

That was the last time I would ever eat eggs again!

“Then why are you throwing up?” he asked, panicked now.

I gasped.

Then stopped throwing up.

The minute I sat up, I narrowed my eyes at him.

He picked up a piece of toilet paper, wiped my face, and cringed a little before throwing the paper in the toilet and flushing it.

Oh, God. He’d just wiped puke off of my face.

Now that was love.

“We’re getting a divorce,” I decided right then and there.

His brows furrowed.

“What?” he asked in confusion. “Why the hell would we do that?”

“Because I draw the line at you sitting on the floor next to me, wiping puke off my face,” I informed him.

I was being irrational, but I couldn’t help it.

“And,” I snapped. “I can’t have your baby right now. I can’t even take a shower by myself!”

I held up my casted arm, waving it in his face.

His face that was currently being overtaken by shock.

His face was pale, and his beard was quivering as he tried to figure out how to speak.

“Say something,” I snapped at him.

He ran a hand down his face, stopping to tug lightly on his beard, before he cleared his throat.

“I…good?”

“Good?”

“Yeah, good.”

I blinked.

“That’s it?”

He licked his lips.

“What’s it?” He fell backwards onto his ass, and let his large back rest against the bathroom cabinets.

“That’s all the reaction I’m going to get?” I asked him. “I told you I’m carrying the heir to your throne!”

“The heir to my throne?”

“Yes!” I snapped.

He held his hands up in defense.

“I’m fucking happy!” he said. “Though, I gotta admit, I’m scared as fuck. We could really fuck some kids up.”

That was true. We could.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “We could.”

We sat in silence for a few long moments.

Then Truth opened his arms, and I dove into them.

“We won’t fuck them up,” he promised.

“Okay,” I said.

I hoped that my voice was more confident than what I was really feeling.

He squeezed me tight.

“I love you.”

I buried my face into his neck, and I felt him harden underneath me.

“Is there ever a time when you don’t think about sex?” I asked him, a laugh bubbling up my throat.

“Just a minute ago, when that puke and a piece of egg was on your lip, I wasn’t thinking about sex.”

I smacked him before I got up and brushed my teeth. Then I showed him just how excited I was to be carrying his child.

***

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked.

He was looking at me, gauging whether I really was okay despite my assurances that I was, and I wanted to strangle him.

I didn’t answer him.

He would’ve stayed, but the mailman rang the doorbell, causing him to sigh and get up.

I tried on the very last thing I had yet to try on, and sighed.

This would have to be good enough, at least until I could admit defeat and go to a fucking maternity store that sold clothes for big girls.

“What is this?” Truth asked from the doorway, startling me.

I looked up, saw the long box, and smiled.

“Open it.”

He did and paused at the sight of the bike seat.

“I just thought, you know, since you like the other bike better, that you’ll start riding it again if you have a different bike seat,” I said softly.

Truth’s eyes were shining with happiness.

“Yeah,” he said. “And how did you know what kind to get?”

Dare I tell him that I’d just sent his old one to get reupholstered?

When I’d had the conversation over the phone about the bike seat after I’d gotten home from the hospital, the man that’d done the work had spoken to me like I was a complete lunatic.

The leather work that Truth had done himself was phenomenal, and the upholsters hadn’t wanted to cover over it. Even after I’d offered him a shitload of money.

What had finally convinced him to do it, though, was the explanation of Destiny and Kenneth, and how they’d done some nasty things on the bike seat, and that my man refused to ride it anymore.

“I asked a few of the boys where they recommended I take it. It was actually Silas, that sexy, older man who gives Big Papa a run for his money…”

“Wait,” Truth held up his hand. “You think another man besides me is sexy?”

He tried to reach for me, but I stepped out of his grasp and turned to survey my fourth outfit in the floor to ceiling mirror.

“Yes,” I confirmed. “Both men are sexy as hell. Big Papa is sexier, though. Oh man, he is beautiful.”

Though, that was only because Silas still scared the shit out of me.

Big Papa was like a sexy, older teddy bear. He was a really good friend who I could talk to about pretty much anything.

“That’s just wrong,” Truth muttered, holding the bike seat above his head and inspecting it. “This detail work is amazing.”

It was.

The upholsterer was amazing, and I was contemplating stealing Truth’s other bike seat so I could do it all over again.

“Kind of presumptuous of you, though, to get the back seat done, too.”

I grinned.

“Yeah,” I said. “But I figured why not.”

He snorted and set the seat down on the bed, right on top of my white halter top, and I rolled my eyes.

“Looks good, baby.”

I looked down at the seat where he was fingering the lettering.

His seat said ‘Mr. Truth’ while mine said, ‘Mrs. Truth.’

The rest of it was decorated with words. My words to Truth.

I wasn’t sure he was going to like them at first. I was convinced that he would be mad that I desecrated his property, but he seemed genuinely happy that I’d done it.

“The bike seat or my outfit?” I teased.

He didn’t look up from the seat.

He was still reading the words.

I love you. I love your face. I love the way your beard makes me shiver. I love the pretty words that come out of your mouth when you’re trying to make me laugh. One day, we’re going to part, and the only thing I want you to remember when I’m no longer of this Earth is that not a day went by that I didn’t thank my lucky stars for you.

It was simple. Sweet. And just so happened to also have been our wedding vows.

Something that I’d only figured out after I’d called the chapel for more photos from our wedding. Apparently, at the time, drunk me only thought that one 8x10 would be enough.

It wasn’t.

First, because my GG wanted one for her shop and for her house. Also because I wanted one in every single room of our home, something that Truth was still coming to terms with.

Then, with unrushed movements, he placed the bike seat carefully down on the bed, walked over to me, and placed both of his big hands on my face.

Gently, oh so fucking gently, he brought my face to his, and kissed me.

It was sweet.

But, just as suddenly, it wasn’t sweet anymore.

Ever since I’d almost died, everything Truth did was with every bit of effort he could muster.

His kisses were deeper. His hugs were just a little bit longer, a little bit tighter. The sex…well I couldn’t complain there. Everything was more intense, the feelings, the way he held me afterward.

So yeah, me almost getting killed twice in one day was bad, but I couldn’t say I was completely dissatisfied with the after-effects.

Unfortunately, I could tell that Truth was still haunted about it, though.

But right now, with his lips on mine, his hand snaking down to part my folds, he didn’t seem haunted at all.

In fact, he seemed focused on his goal.

His goal being my orgasm.

Something he accomplished seconds later as he dipped his fingers into the back of my pants, and thrust two fingers deep into my pussy.

“Ohhh,” I breathed.

My eyes closed as he started to suck on my neck, coaxing my orgasm to the surface.

I arched, rubbing my aching nipples against his chest.

The rasp of my lace bra dragging along the hard plane of his chest had a moan leeching out of my throat.

My eyes crossed, and I yanked his beard down, bringing the rest of his face with it, and slammed my lips against his own.

“Fuck,” he growled against my lips. “You want me, baby?”

Of course I wanted him. What kind of a stupid question was that?

I nodded anyway, though, just in case he needed the encouragement.

He grinned his Cheshire cat grin, showing me his teeth, and then reared up off of me—all the while being careful of my belly as he moved.

Our clothes were discarded. The bed was raked clean of the rest of my clothing, which likely were going to need to be vacuumed or lint rolled from all of the cat hair.

Then he was maneuvering me onto my side, and crawling into the bed behind me.

He brought his hand to the back of my thigh and lifted it, scooting even closer and allowing his hardened cock to drag deliciously through the lips of my sex.

I bit my lip, my head going back, and moaned—long and loud.

I reached down between my legs and captured his hard cock, squeezing the tip lightly as I lined him up with my entrance.

The moment he felt himself positioned, he gave a loud grunt and thrust inside of me.

He didn’t fit.

At least not yet, anyway.

So he had to play with my clit, coaxing my body to produce more wetness to ease his way inside.

Luckily, he didn’t have to do much more than look pretty, because the moment his rough fingers found my clit, I started to be pulled under.

At first I was able to think.

But it quickly became apparent that there would be no thinking when Truth’s cock was inside of me, so I gave up and just focused on how good it felt.

I loved the way his hard cock filled me up when he thrust forward and even how it left me feeling bereft as he pulled away.

I looped my hand up, tangling it in his hair, and started to move my hips as best as I could despite him holding me exactly where he wanted me.

“Baby?”

I ignored him, and he moved his large hand down between my thighs and went back to playing with my clit.

“You okay?” he rasped against my ear.

I bit my lip.

I was so fucking close, and all he wanted to do was fucking talk to me.

“Perfect,” I gasped. “Fuckin’ hurry!”

He growled, leaned down, and drug his bearded jaw along the length of my shoulder that he could reach without moving.

And I had to say, the man was a freakin’ genius. The faster and harder he thrust, the more I wanted to scream out with pleasure.

But, alas, I couldn’t. Not and walk out of the bedroom with my head held high.

Though, I guess, technically, Ghost wasn’t in a great mood lately, anyway. Hearing Truth and I have sex was the least of his worries.

Seanshine, though, would happily make my husband feel bad for forgetting about them.

Me, though, I didn’t care. One second I was contemplating the men outside, and the next Truth rolled me over onto my knees, holding onto my hips until I could get my knees and arms underneath of me.

Once I was up and not squishing our baby, he returned to fucking me. This time it was rougher. Less sweet and more raw.

Thrust, thrust.

Smack.

I gasped, my eyes springing open, and turned my head to glare at him over my shoulder.

“Fuck, Truth!” I gasped. “What the fuck?”

My words, however, were lost on him as he picked up his pace.

Our bodies were smacking together, echoing off the empty walls of our shared bedroom.

“Come,” he ordered. “Use your fingers if you have to.”

I didn’t need to.

He didn’t even need to tell me to come, because I was halfway gone before he’d even finished his sentence.

I cried out and clamped down on his cock, my face burying in the pillow that was half under my body, half under my head.

He cursed and bucked wildly as his thrusts became erratic and uneven.

Then I heard his groan of completion as he followed me over the edge into the abyss.

“Fucking better and better every single time,” Truth said, letting his sweaty body lean over my naked back. “I love you, Very.”

I smiled.

“I love you, too, Truth.”

His growl of happiness was made against the back of my neck, and I shivered as the words hit home.

I loved this man. I loved the way he left me for hours on end, and I’d find him building a sword, all hot and sweaty into the wee hours of the night. I loved the way his eyes lit up when I brought him tea, juice, or coke for no reason. I loved the way he would curl me close when he felt I’d gotten too far away from him during the night or even while we were eating dinner.

But, most of all, I loved how he loved me. Without limits.

He didn’t care that anyone thought he was whipped or too attentive to me. He only cared about what he and I thought, and that was everything.

***

Two hours and a sated vagina later, I was trying not to fall asleep as I waited for dinner to be ready.

We were all gathered around the bar eating when something popped.

The food on the stove. Hot grease that Big Papa was using to fry some chicken. The problem was that there were a lot of people eating, and he had a lot of it to do.

Aaron and his wife, Imogen. Tommy Tom and his wife, Tally, as well as their daughter who was putting the chicken away just about as fast as Big Papa could fry it. Then there was me and Truth. Seanshine and his most current date—who happened to be Tommy Tom’s sister. The two former prospects who were full blown members of The Dixie Wardens MC now. Their dates. Then Big Papa’s date, whom, I might add, was a complete and total bitch.

The pop of the fryer caused me to jump and turn. Food went everywhere, and Ghost, who’d been standing about a foot away holding a plate for Big Papa grunted. Then he was moving, turning and twisting at the same time he yanked his t-shirt off over his head.

I saw that the plate of chicken was on the table, saved by Ghost before he’d yanked his t-shirt off.

The split-second I saw of the back of his t-shirt before it was on the ground showed oil streaking his back, and dripping down his pants.

“Oh, shit!” I gasped, coming to my feet as did a few of the other ladies that were sitting surrounding the table.

Three pregnant ladies, all waiting for food, didn’t make for patient waiting.

“Ghost!” Tally gasped, already moving around the table.

I made it around the other way just as Imogen got off her stool, both of us jumping over Tank who looked annoyed that we would dare disturb his sleep.

That was how three pregnant ladies, all hormonal as hell, were found standing around a practically naked man who was in the process of taking off his pants when their men came in to see what the commotion was all about.

“Imogen!” Aaron barked. “Step away from the fryer!”

Imogen obeyed, but only far enough that she could bend to pick up Ghost’s gun that had fallen to the floor in his haste to get his pants off.

I squatted down and gathered his pants, as well as the phone that’d been in his hand.

A text message was on the screen, and I couldn’t help myself.

Ghost (8:30 PM): Don’t let my wife do it. I’ll come get her.

Unknown (8:34 PM): You can’t come get her, you’re dead.

Ghost (8:35 PM): Not anymore.

I hastily placed the items on the counter, and then turned back to the man who was the center of attention.

And almost blanched.

He had burns.

Oh, God did he have burns. They were everywhere. All over his body. They even distended down into his boxer briefs, disappearing from view.

Holy. Shit.

“Ghost,” I breathed. “Are you okay?”

I was breathless for a few reasons.

One, Ghost had just been burned, possibly badly.

Two, Ghost was practically naked, and despite his burns, he looked good.

Three, Ghost had a wife, and he was about to go get her.

Oh, shit.

“Jesus Christ, man,” Sean said as he pushed in between us. “You’re going to need someone to look at this.”

“No.”

Simple. Direct. That was our Ghost.

“Sorry, darlin’,” Big Papa’s date, Terril, sauntered up, placing her hands on Ghost’s back. “But I agree with him.”

“Don’t. Touch. Me.”

The words, although low in pitch, felt like a scream in the busy, chaotic room.

Every man, woman, and child felt those nearly whispered words deep down to their souls.

“Sorry, hon,” Terril backed away with her hands raised.

I bit my lip and turned to find Truth, who made big eyes at me and gestured at me with his hand.

I left the commotion of the kitchen and walked into my man’s arms.

“What’s with that look on your face,” he asked, tilting his head down to study my eyes.

His hand had gone to my distended belly, absently running his big, rough palm down over the top of it.

The baby, the booger who only kicked for his father, nudged his hand, causing Truth to smile.

I moved until my mouth hovered just over Truth’s ear, though he did have to bend down a little to allow me to do it.

“I saw Ghost’s phone. He dropped it while all that happened,” I gestured with my hand to the spectacle over my shoulder.

Now Sean’s date, Ellen, who I’d seen looking at Jessie James more tonight than Sean, walked into the room, took one look at the man who was trying to disentangle himself from the melee of people that were making a fuss over him, and turned around and fled.

Jessie James (I still don’t know why the hell I called him his entire name, but I wasn’t the only one), followed after her with one look at Sean to make sure he wasn’t paying attention.

I winced inwardly. That was going to be a mess if it ever went past the innocent stage I could tell it was at right now.

“And?” Truth asked, oblivious to the soap opera going on around him.

“And on his phone, it said that he was going to get back his wife,” I whispered just as quietly as before.

He blinked.

Then a broad grin broke out over his face.

“Fuck yeah.”