He spanked her again. This time, several slaps were delivered in repetition. She jerked against him, savoring each smack, wishing for one more but longing for something else far more fulfilling.
“Fuck me, Sir. Please don’t make me wait.”
Brock’s fingers swept across her belly. His caresses were soft but aggressive as his hand slid up and down, from one side to the other.
Without warning, he unhooked the first clamp and she moaned as a shard of pleasure-pain whipped around her tight nipple. A second later, she braced for the removal of the other clamp, fully expecting the rubbing and pampering from Brock’s attentive hand but only minimally disappointed when he didn’t deliver.
His erection grew against her neck and she teased him by rubbing the underside of her chin against the crest. Fluttering her eyelashes, she said, “I need to practice my Kegels. All pregnant women need to practice them, you know.”
“If I were back there, Trix, you wouldn’t ask me twice.”
“Switch spots with Rory then,” she suggested, shaking Brock’s leg.
“Like hell,” he grumbled, bringing her body over his.
Facing outward, Trixie’s legs draped over Brock’s and he slowly lowered her over him. “Look at Rory while I fuck you.”
Rory shook his head. “Damn, you know how to make for a rough ride home.”
“I’ll say.” Trixie moaned as he entered her from behind.
He pushed down on her body, using her torso to guide her over his cock. Manipulating her moves, he lifted her and set her down, lifted her once more and then brought her down over him again.
“Good God, that’s hot,” she said, placing her flattened palm on the window.
“That’s right, baby,” Brock crooned. “Practice those exercises. Squeeze my cock, sub.”
Brock toyed with her sore nipples, thrusting inside her with uneven strokes. His fingers wandered downward and she braced for the best of promises, wildest of deliveries.
Soft caresses brushed against her clit. “Watch Rory.”
Her eyes met Rory’s again. He glanced at the highway and Trixie in an even division of time. The heavy look of lust spilled from his beautiful eyes.
Trixie mashed her palm harder against the glass as her pussy wept. Her channel pulsed around Brock’s heavy cock. “More, Brock. More, Sir!”
And then it happened.
A trucker pulled up alongside them, making it obvious that he could see them by staying right alongside them. He rolled down his window and relaxed his elbow on the half-dropped glass. He, too, divided his attention between the road and the sideshow.
“What do you guys wanna do?” Rory asked, checking his rearview mirror.
“Give him something to fantasize about,” Trixie said, realizing she’d soon become quite the exhibitionist at Mitch’s new retreat. “Why not?”
Brock nipped at her neck. “Do you need to get off, vixen?”
“Yes.”
“Convince me, sub. Do you need to come?”
“Yes, Sir!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands above her head and flattening them on the roof of the vehicle.
“Me, too, baby,” he said, grinding against her.
Thumping inside her walls, he went as deep as his cock would slide, tapping her ultrasensitive spot and sending her into one shattering climax.
Flaunting her skills and her body, Trixie swung from one side to the next. Her hair swayed behind her as she rode Brock’s cock and screamed out in pleasure.
“Damn, baby.” He hammered his cock between her folds. “That’s right, vixen. Squeeze. Oh God, yeah. Come with me, baby.”
Seconds later, they undulated together, riding toward another realm of ecstasy. Brock pushed her forward. She draped her arms over the seat in front of her. He raised her hips to his groin, and drove into her like a man without one smidgen of control.
The trucker blew his horn, stuck his arm out the window, and gave them a thumbs-up. Then he rolled on down the highway.
“Wonderful,” Rory drawled, throwing the gearshift into park position several hours later. “I knew I should’ve made you switch with me.”
“Oh shit,” Trixie grumbled, glaring down the driveway and scurrying around to find her clothes.
The entire Cartwell clan must’ve gathered at their place for a special homecoming, and from the top of the drive, Trixie could easily see two little cotton tops bouncing from one side of the porch to the other.
“Hurry, Brock,” she said, shaking him from a heavy sleep. “Everyone is here.”
Rory swung his arm over the seat. “There are some baby wipes under the seat if you need them.”
“Thanks,” she grumbled, grabbing the container and pulling free several sheets of cleansing towels.
“Want me to do that for you?” Brock asked.
“No,” she replied.
He took one from her hand, and with a masculine growl resounding, he pushed her hand aside and took to the task of slowly rubbing the toilette around her pussy. After he’d cruelly aroused her, he wiped down her legs and discarded the wipes.
“Nice,” Rory said, shifting in his seat.
Trixie dressed. “That’s not fair.”
Brock laughed. “Life is so very fair, sugar.”
“If you two sex machines can pull it together, I’d like to get this over with so we can spend some time with the kids and then tuck them in and play a little while.”
“I’m spent,” Trixie teased. “This gal needs her rest.”
“Uh huh,” Rory said, putting the vehicle in motion again. “I’ll remind you of those very words when I’m sprawled out between your legs later.”
“You do that,” she teased, leaning over the seat and giving him a kiss on the cheek.
A minute later they were surrounded by family and friends. Caz nearly tripped over his own feet trying to rush into her arms.
“Momma!” he squealed, throwing his arms over her shoulders. He leaned back and framed her face. “Oh, Momma. What happened to your
pretty wittle face
?”
Trixie’s heart swelled with love as she looked down at Cazeron and counted her blessings. She was so very fortunate to have the opportunity to explain things, to hold him in her arms and assure him everything would be okay.
“Momma had an accident, Caz. I’m just fine now. I’m home with you.”
“Yes you are, Momma,” Cazeron said, throwing his arms around her again.
“Come here, big boy,” Brock said, grabbing him and hugging him tightly. “We missed you, slugger.”
“I missed you, too, but…” He looked back at his mother and his eyes misted over with tears. “I’m upset with you.” He pointed at Rory. “And you, too, Daddy Rory.”
“Why, honey?” Rory asked, concern etched in his brow.
“You…” He jabbed his finger in Brock’s shoulder. “And you…” He shook another one at Rory. “You’re both supposed to take care of Momma. You didn’t do that. She has black and blue places on her pretty wittle face.”
“Caz,” Ansley drawled, coming to their rescue. “Your daddies would’ve been there for your momma if they could’ve been. You know they wouldn’t let something happen to her if they could stop it.”
“When I get big and so strong like
Triwstan
, I’ll make sure nobody ever hurts Momma again.” The little boy swung his arms toward Trixie again. “Catch me, Momma.”
Brock swung him back and tossed him in the air, pretending to throw him to Trixie. She positioned him on her hip and approached the posse—her parents.
“Baby girl,” her mother said, cupping her cheek. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“Meems said you gots beat up by a bad, bad man,” Caz said.
“Momma!” Trixie snapped.
“He heard me on the phone, Trixie.”
“You should be more cautious,” she snapped.
“Meems said Daddy Rory and Daddy Brock didn’t do everything. Pepa said the same thing.”
“They did, did they?” Trixie drawled, turning her focus to Daddy Kane.
“Thanks, Kane,” Brock grumbled, grabbing Winter from her baby walker and swinging her around and around. “How’s my angel?”
“Dada,” she muttered. “Dada. Dada. Dada.”
Brock’s face lit up like the moon. “Did you hear that?”
“I sure did,” Trixie said, greeting her little girl with a peck on the check. “Can you say ‘momma’?”
Winter grinned. “Dada.” She looked at Rory and leaned toward him. “Dada Ror.”
Everyone laughed. Then the laughter stilled and the questions started flying.
What happened? How could she have put herself in such a dangerous situation? How many times had they told her not to stop at a rest area at night? Why had she been traveling alone? What had she been thinking?
“I guess I’ve been asking myself the same things,” Trixie admitted, swinging her gaze to Dad Evan. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m glad my daughter is home safe and sound.”
“Me, too,” Braden Daddy said.
“We’re all thrilled you’re safe,” her mother said.
“Well,” Ansley drawled, pulling her mother by the wrist. “I made the parents promise to give you guys some space. You need rest, big sister.” She winked. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” Trixie grumbled. “I always welcome constructive criticism from my feisty little sister.”
“At least she didn’t say you look fat and sassy,” Kimberly said, grinning.
“Well Kimberly, what an insulting thing to say.” Her mother shot her a disconcerting stare.
Kimberly smiled. “You haven’t told them?”
“I didn’t know you were aware of the news,” Trixie said.
“I was at the hospital. I may have left the room when the doctor came in but I still had my ear pinned to the door.”
“What news?” her mother asked.
“Mom. Dads. You’ll be grandparents again before long.”
“What?” her mother asked, her voice elevated. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Trixie replied, rubbing the top of Cazeron’s head. “You’re going to have another little brother or sister. Isn’t that great, Caz?”
Cazeron stuck out his lip. He didn’t say anything right away. After a minute, he looked at Brock. “This wasn’t Tristan’s fault. Was it, Daddy?”
Everyone laughed.
“No, slugger,” Brock said. “Tristan didn’t have anything to do with this one.”
* * * *
The kids had just been tucked into bed when the doorbell rang. Brock didn’t take a second to look outside. He didn’t need to guess who was on the other side of the door.
Greeting their guest, he said, “I see you’re planning to stay awhile.”
“If you think this is a lot of luggage, you ought to check the back of the truck. There’s plenty more out there.”
“Planning on moving here, are ya?”
“No,” Mitch replied. “But I may stay a few weeks. We won’t start the renovations until next month.”
“Renovations?” Rory asked, entering the foyer and glancing at the clock. “By the way, what took you so long? I sort of figured you’d beat us here.”
Mitch laughed. “So you aren’t disappointed?”
“Hell no,” Brock replied, grabbing one of his bags and swinging it over his shoulder. “We fully expected to see you.”
“So much for the element of surprise.”
“Actually,” Brock said, pointing upstairs, “Trixie is in the bath. Why don’t we play a little trick on her?”
“What do you have in mind?” Mitch asked, following him up the stairs.
“Give Rory the keys to the truck so he can pull that piece of junk over to the barnyard. You come with me.”
Tossing Rory his keys, he said, “Be careful now. I’d hate to find another dent on the bumper.”
Rory laughed and left the house. Brock showed him to the guest room.
“So I can’t stay in the master suite, too?”
“Sure you can,” Brock replied. “After tonight it’s fine, but I want to surprise Trixie.”
“How?”
“Pay attention,” Brock said, plotting and planning as he relayed his ideas. “We’re about to give Trixie the surprise of her life.”
“So anyway,” Trixie drawled into the phone, acknowledging her men by waving her fingers in their direction. “I spoke to Daddy Kane before I called you. Cash was in violation of his probation. He’s on his way to prison again. It’s where he belongs. Evidently, Daddy Kane received word right after we came home. Brock has been cleared.”
“I knew he would be,” Ansley said.
“Yeah, well, Lord knows we don’t need any more drama.”
“You are Miss Drama, big sister.” The line filled with laughter. “I’m glad everything worked out.”
“Me too,” Trixie said, glancing at her guys. “Brock and Rory are ready for bed. They just came in here with
that look
on their faces.”
“
That look
is what got you pregos again,” Ansley drawled. “And they can wait. I’m not done with you. We need to talk about this thing with Kimberly.”