“Don’t the kids have to take a nap or something,” he murmured against her mouth.
“They do,” she answered as she ran her hand over his arm, squeezing his bicep.
“Daddy said we can see Santa next week,” Braxton said as he pushed away from the table.
Unfurling herself from Hawk’s arms, Cara went over to Braxton and helped him out of the chair. “That sounds like a great plan. Let me wash your face.” She took his hand and guided him over to the sink. Hawk watched her hips sway in her tight-as-hell jeans, readjusting his pants as his cock grew hard.
Bending down, he picked Isa up and ran his hand through her soft light-brown hair, then kissed her soft cheeks. “How’s my sweet girl?” She giggled and burrowed her head into his neck.
Yawning, Braxton rubbed his eyes and curled his arms around Cara’s legs. “Are you tired, sweetie?” she asked as she wiped his face with a warm cloth. He nodded.
Hawk carried Isa into her room and laid her in the crib, then stroked her head until she closed her eyes and her lips parted. He bent down and kissed her softly before making his way to his and Cara’s room, where she was brushing her hair.
“Braxton must’ve been exhausted,” he said as he quietly shut the door.
“He still loves his naps. He’s worn out on school days.” She came over to him and hooked her arms around his neck. “I’ve been missing you all morning,” she said, her warm breath tickling his neck.
He ran his hands down her back and cupped her ass. “You look sexy as fuck in your jeans. You been on my mind too, baby.” Tangling her hair in his hand, he jerked her head back, then crushed his mouth against hers. The small whimpers from her throat drove him crazy, and he slipped his hand between them and placed it on her breast, kneading it and grazing her hardening nipple with his finger. “You fuckin’ kill me, babe.”
She slid her hands under his T-shirt and scratched his chest with her fingernails, tugging at his nipple piercing. Fire rushed through him, and he picked her up and eased her on the bed. He tugged off his shirt, left his jeans and boxers in a pile next to the bed, and then he undressed her. Usually he liked taking his time peeling her clothes off her, but he had a bad burning inside him that needed relief real fast.
Grasping her breasts, he squeezed and sucked them until red love bites covered them like a blanket; he loved seeing his mark all over his woman’s creamy tits. “Get on your knees,” he rasped.
Cara turned over and rose up on her knees. He leaned back and took in her firm, shapely ass, her sweet puckered hole, and the glimpse of glistening pink between her legs. He licked his lips and leaned forward, spreading her knees farther apart. Pushing her tits into the mattress, he ran his finger through her wetness and she moaned. Flipping over on his back, he scooted between her legs and pulled her down a bit until his tongue reached her dripping pussy. Over and over his tongue laved her folds as his finger moved in and out, her warm walls tightening around it as she squirmed and moaned above him.
He knew she was close to exploding, so he slid out from under her, then entered her hard and fast from behind. While he pumped his cock in and out of her, he rubbed her sweet spot. When her walls squeezed him hard and her muffled moans increased in intensity, he knew she was going over the edge. He kept pummeling until he felt his balls tightening, pulling up inside him. And then the knot at the base of his cock dissolved in fire, melting.
“Fuck, Cara. Fuck!” Panting, he collapsed on top of her and lay still, his heart beating wildly against his rib cage. After a long while, he rolled off her and pulled her close to him.
She ran her nails up and down his chest. “I love you so much. That was awesome.”
“Fuckin’ awesome, babe. I love you too.” He kissed the top of her head and nestled her closer, glancing out the window, watching the falling snow. “It’s really coming down hard.”
“You don’t have to go back out, do you?”
“I’ve got to go to the shop for a few hours.” He tilted her head back and looked deeply into her eyes. “You make me feel real good, woman.” Bending down, he kissed her passionately.
And then Isa’s cry came over the monitor.
“She’s up,” Cara said as she began to pull away from him. “She’s not into long naps like Braxton was at that age.”
Hawk pushed her back down and kissed her gently. “You relax. I’ll get her. I have some time before I go to the shop. Kimber’s there, so I don’t have to worry.”
He pulled on his boxers and jeans and walked out of the room. Picking Isa up, he held her close as he walked over to the changing table, grinning as he changed her diaper. She looked so much like Cara. With Isa in his arms once more, he peeked into the master bedroom and saw Cara sleeping.
“It’s just you and me, princess,” he said against Isa’s cheek, and then he walked down the stairs.
Chapter Three
Baylee
Staring into the refrigerator, Baylee scanned the shelves for the diet ginger ale she was sure she’d seen the day before. Doubting Axe would drink it, she moved jars of olives, pickles, and cherry peppers out of the way. A wave of nausea seized her, and she straightened up and shuffled over to the kitchen chair. I feel like shit.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Axe asked as he walked into the kitchen. He came over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, kneading it gently.
“I think I have the flu. I feel like shit. Did you drink the ginger ale that was in the fridge?”
He chuckled. “No. It’s not really my kind of drink.” He walked over and opened the refrigerator. “Here it is. Do you want ice in it?”
“Yeah. I didn’t see it. Where was it?”
“In the door. You’ve been under the weather for the last week. Maybe you should see a doctor.”
The clink of ice against glass and the pop of the can deafened her. Her head swam and her stomach gurgled and heaved. Grasping the edge of the table, she pulled herself up and dashed to the guest bathroom, barely making it before she threw up. Clinging to the sides of the toilet bowl, she breathed heavily, waiting for the next bout of nausea to attack.
“I’m calling Doc,” Axe’s deep voice said from behind her.
“The one who patches all of you guys up when you slip into your caveman mode? Oh… shit.” Another hurl into the toilet.
“He’s a doctor and a damn good one. He’s been part of the club for years, since way before I joined. Maybe he can give you something to make you feel better.” He knelt down beside her and swept her hair back from her damp forehead.
“Nothing can help the flu but rest and seeing it through. I don’t have time to be sick.”
“Isn’t chicken soup supposed to help? I’m sure we got a can of it.”
“Just the thought of soup in a can makes me sick.”
“If you tell me what to do, maybe I can make it for you.”
“Are you serious? When’s the last time I cooked for you since we’ve been together?”
“A year ago.”