Saint (Hot Shots 4)

“Yeah, it really would. For now, though, I’m going to sit right here and relax with my wife.” Saint sits down beside me. My hand moves to his chest, over his heart, my head in the crook of his arm.

“You won’t be late?” I ask him, noticing the time on the Alexa Show we keep under the television. One of the few things Saint wouldn’t compromise on was that massive thing. Though I was able to get one of those fancy frames you can put around it.

“I’ve got plenty of time. It doesn’t start until eleven, and it’s only going on eight.” The reason we’re up so early in the morning is Teresa and Jamie being up every few hours like clockwork.

“If you say so.” My eyes drift close, tired from the past few nights. Instead of every few hours like their usual, it’s been every two hours. Saint has been up right there with me even though I told him he could sleep. He’d help me diaper them, feed them, and rock them back to bed. I’m every bit of the milk facility these days. Breastfeeding is hard, which is why I pump, and pump often. Even now, I’m hooked up to the machine and looking ridiculous, yet Saint doesn’t care. He still loves me no matter what or where life takes us, just as I do him.

Epilogue

Saint

Eight Years Later

“Hello!” I walk through the house, looking for my wife and kids, along with Josey and Mack. Even though both of them have graduated high school, they still come over at least twice a week. No one replies, but Emerson’s Suburban is in the garage. She traded the Jeep for it not long after she found out she was pregnant with the twins, saying we needed something practical and safe, not to mention with all the things babies need times two. That’s what she wanted, so that’s what she got. Josey’s Camaro is parked in the driveway, beside hers is Mack’s old square-body Chevy pickup truck, lifted with oversized tires. That boy is hell on wheels. Girls have been chasing after him the minute he hit puberty. And don’t get me started on Josey. Her father and I have had our hands full between his two and our two.

“I guess no one is going to answer.” I walk through to the back of the house, look out the glass doors, and see that’s where everyone is, soaking up the sunshine while sitting around the pool we had installed once the kids started walking. Of course, both kids learned how to swim as soon as possible. You can’t be surrounded by water without it.

Except for Mack, who’s got a pole in his hand. I watch as Jamie walks up to him, his own pole with him. I usually work from home, helping Emerson out with building up her own real estate business. She didn’t want to give it up to become solely a stay-at-home mom. When your woman wants to run a successful business, you stand beside her, so that’s what I did. I invested even though she was adamant not to take any of my help. She conceded in the end, but it was only because I told her we shouldn’t start off our future in debt, not when we had the money in the bank.

“Saint!” I’m just heading up the stairs to change out of my dress clothes when I hear Emerson’s voice call my name. I stop in my tracks.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She comes up the stairs, and when she reaches me, my hand palms the back of her neck, the other going down to her lower back, pulling her closer to me.

“Have a good meeting?” I don’t respond. I’m too interested in taking her mouth, tasting her. Our lips meet, and a soft sigh leaves her, giving me the opportunity to slide my tongue inside, twirling ours together. We pull apart. “It was good, but not as good as feeling you.”

“The kids are good for a while. Josey and Mack said they’d watch them. Want some help undressing?” She wiggles her eyebrows.

“Fuck, yeah.” I pick her up by the back of her thighs. She wraps her legs around me. The sundress she’s wearing rides up to her hips, showing me the lace panties she still loves to tease me with as we walk to our room.

“Feeling frisky, are we?” There’s joy in her voice over getting a few moments alone, able to feel one another skin on skin, her slickness on the length of my cock.

“You have no idea. Didn’t get to have you this morning. These meetings are for the birds, but there’s one good thing about it—coming home to you and having a little while to ourselves. Totally fucking worth it,” I tell her as her back meets the mattress. A soft laugh escapes her. Before I get to crawl between her spread thighs, she’s sitting up, pulling her dress over her head, throwing it to the floor. Emerson’s smooth and creamy skin appears in front of me, encased in the scraps of lace. “You better take the rest off, unless you want me to rip it off you,” I grunt. My own fingers move to the buttons of my shirt as I slide off my shoes. My eyes are on my task when I feel her greedy hands touching my belt buckle.