A Moosehead Spring: Max and Rose
CHAPTER ONE
Max
Shit. I curse into the universe for the hundredth time today. I keep banging my head against the same wall. My wife. My Rosy. My life. That woman is my everything. Along with my children, she is single-handedly the reason I wake up every day. Seeing her beautiful coffee and cream skin as she smiles at our babies or laughs at something I said. I see the twinkle in her eyes when she looks at me, knowing I am the only one to ever have that look of love from her. That woman is...Mine. But lately, she has been a pain in my ass.
See, two years ago, she almost died giving birth to our triplets. She fell into a coma and didn’t wake up for months. I thought I had lost her, and my world stopped. Hell, I couldn’t even look at my own babies, too scared I would resent them for living while she laid in the in-between. That was the scariest time of my life and not something I ever want to relive. Which brings me to the pain in my ass. For the past year, she has been on my ass about expanding to our family and I had to tell her that was never going to happen. I had hoped she would understand, and we could put it behind us, but it seems my stubborn ass Latina is not going to let it go. Especially since all three of my brothers have babies on the way.
So, here I am in the shower after another one of our arguments, pissed and horny. Normally she would join me in the shower, but this argument was worse than the others have been, and I don’t know what else to do. There is nothing on the face of this planet that my wife could ask me for and I wouldn't bust my ass to give it to her. But in this, I can’t budge. I can’t lose her. Period.
Done washing up, I get out, hoping she is done being upset so I can get inside that pussy and remind her how great make-up sex is. Not surprising, she is sitting against the headboard watching some shit show she and the girls are hooked on. “Why don’t you turn that shit off and let your husband fuck you,” I say in her ear as I kiss her neck. She shocks the shit out of me when she dismisses me and turns her head. Oh really? “Rose.” I use my serious voice and her name. She turns towards me, quirks her eyebrow, and turns back towards the TV. Oh, fuck no.
Not saying anything else, I walk over to the television and pull the plug from the wall. “Max Crawford you plug that back in right this second,” she yells with her hand on her hip.
“No. You want to ignore me for a TV show? Then the show has to go. Nothing ever comes before you and me baby. You know I am a jealous son of a bitch and anything that gets more of your attention besides my kids is eliminated. Now, open your legs. I’m famished.” I unwrap my towel and watch as she slips. Her expression turns heated for one second as she licks her lips. I can see the moment she chastises herself and schools her features.
“No. I am not in the mood.” Yeah. Okay.
“Bullshit. You always want this beast.” I tease her stroking my shaft as I walk toward her.
“Not tonight I don’t. You can take that piece of meat and handle him in the bathroom.” She turns to move up the bed and I lose it. I don’t fucking think so. Grabbing her ankles, I pull her to the end of the bed and cage her in.
“Who the fuck do you think I am, Rosy? Did I all of a sudden go into the bathroom as one person and come out as someone else? Since when have I become your bitch? WE don’t go to bed angry and without my dick buried nine inches deep in your pussy. I don’t give a shit how mad you think you are. THAT never changes. Now open your fucking legs,” I growl at her pulling her legs apart.
“Screw you, Max,” she spits at me.
“I’m trying baby.” Ripping her panties off, my head dips and smells her pussy, taking a moment to give thanks for every moment of anger she is able to give me. It means she is alive. My eyes don’t leave her accusatory ones as my tongue flits out and licks her juicy pussy. I watch as her face moves from anger to heat, back to anger and finally to capitulation. I know she is with me when her head rolls back and she grabs my head. “Always so sweet my flower,'' I tell her before feasting on her messy sticky gift, worshiping it for giving life to my children.