The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 4 (MC Chronicles #4) (4 page)

Seconds later, the pain subsides and Gunz stands, offering me his hands. “Let’s get ya into the living room so you can have my grandbaby in there.”

Folding my fingers through his, I allow him to pull me to my feet. I wobble a bit, so he wraps his arms around my shoulders to steady me. Embracing his middle, I lay my head on his chest, taking a deep breath to scent him. God, he always smells so damn good.

Taking a step back, he folds his arm through mine to escort me to the living room where I get to experience the most painfully beautiful experience of my life. I just hope I can do it.

“Come on, Sugar Tits.” Standing in nothing but his black swimming trunks, Big puts his hands out, palms up. “Dance with me.” His crotch is in my direct line of sight, and those shorts leave nothing to the imagination. Pretty sure I’ve seen all of the women take a gander at his junk a time or two since he slipped them on. The bulge is thick and defined. Our midwife has even blushed because of it. Beth, who just arrived ten minutes ago, couldn’t stop staring, so Jez had to snap her fingers in front of her face a few times to make her focus. Under normal circumstances, I would seize this opportunity to lean forward on this red rubber ball and nuzzle my nose there until he’s rip-roarin’ hard, begging for me to suck it. Now, though, I’d rather chop it off for putting me in this fucking position. I’m hurting bad and don’t understand how Big thinks dancing is going to make it any better. Doesn’t he realize my pussy hurts? I do have our daughter trying to push her watermelon head through the tiny hole. At eight centimeters dilated,
I’m
ready for her to be out. My pussy is nearly ready for her to be out. And I’m sure she’s ready to leave my womb over being squished in there for months.

“Do you think dancing is going to make her come out any faster?” I cock my brow at him, then drift my gaze downward over his solid abs before landing on his bulge.

Covering his junk with one hand, he waves the other toward his face. “My eyes are up here, babe. Quit staring.” Not sure if he’s teasing or being serious, I meet his gaze. It’s alight with humor. His single dimple’s out, making me all fuzzy inside. “That’s better.” He winks and I shake my head, trying not to smile, but fail miserably when the corner of my lip quirks up. I can’t believe I love this big lug. And to think of all that we had to go through to get to this moment…

“You’re the one who bought those trunks. What do you expect?” I test.

“She’s right. Bink’s havin’ a baby, but you’re pretty much puttin’ on a strip show with that package,” Jez torments from the edge of the couch.

Next to her, Beth makes an uncomfortable noise in her throat and blushes, averting her eyes to her lap. Gunz, who’s seated on her other side, chuckles warmly while dropping his arm over her shoulder, tugging her closer. Stiffly, she presses into him, her fingers busy fumbling in her lap. By the rise and fall of her chest, I’m pretty sure she’s freaking out that Gunz is touching her.

After the Runner bullshit, Beth’s been quite standoffish with all of the men—even Big, who’s kinda taken her under his protective wing. Pretty sure he’s doing that for my benefit since the Runner situation continues to piss me off. We’ve had fights about it.

You’d think since Runner
‘supposedly’
cares about Beth, that he’d stop being a pigheaded whore. Wrong. He’s even more of a whore now. It’s gotten to the point where he does it in front of her as much as he can. The more women, the better.

Not too long ago, when my sisters and I went to the clubhouse to clean and check supplies, he was there drinking at the bar with two chicks. Instead of taking them into his back room where he could fuck them in peace, he decided to take them right there in the common room, on the pool table. Things got a little heated when Beth ran crying from the room. Needless to say, I might have punched him in the face. And I might have also slapped one of the club whores. Hey, I’m not saying that I did. I’m saying that I might have. My vision hazed to red at that juncture. Fueled by hormones, I remember screaming at him. I remember Jez and Deb trying to remove me from the situation by grabbing my biceps and attempting to steer me into the hallway. Too pissed off, I wasn’t budging. Also, I recall Runner finding my outburst hilarious as he continued fucking a whore, doggy style, despite the fact I yelled at him. Jez and Deb had tried to be the voices of reason and convince him to take it elsewhere. He refused. Then, they released my arms—big mistake. That’s when shit happened so fast, it’s kind of a blur. My fists connected with flesh. The fucking stopped. And the next thing I knew, Runner was holding his nose as blood gushed between his fingers onto the floor, and Big was there carting me away, kicking and screaming. My fist throbbed, but I didn’t give a shit as I continued to spew profanities at the asshole for messing with my sister. Now, Runner is forbidden to talk to me. And Big has tried to persuade me into cutting the man some slack. As-fucking-if, I’m not doing that. He’s hurt Beth and I’m sick of it. At least she’s letting Gunz give her some lovin’. Everyone knows that Gunz loving is some of the best, so she better soak it up while she can. He’s not always this complacent.

Hell, did you just see that? He offered her a sucker from his cut, and she accepted it with a timid smile. I want to say something, but another contraction steals my capacity to speak. Silently, I breathe through the raw agony as my legs tremble. A cold sweat breaks out all over my body, causing me to shiver.

Big’s hands land softly on my shoulders, massaging them. “You’re doin’ good. Only a little more. That’s it. Breathe,” he coaches.

Soon, the contraction subsides and Big comes to stand in front of me, offering me his hands again. Accepting them this time, he tugs me to my feet and into his arms I go. I don’t hesitate to lean my cheek against his hot, heavenly scented chest. Inhaling deeply, a heady burst of his scent makes my knees go weak. I lock them to keep them from buckling.
Damn, he’s addictive.

“Deb, can you please put on that song that I told ya about?” he asks, then lifts me just a bit so my bare feet are atop his. Resting my chin on his chest, I peer up at him as those caring ice-blue eyes clash with mine. He smiles, that adorable dimple creasing. “I know you’re hurtin’. But movin’ might help break your water since you refuse to let Doc do it.” He’s right. I won’t. At the last exam, she’d asked permission to rupture my membranes. Nope. It’s natural or nothing at all. I’m already miserable, so what’s another hour? Right?

Kissing his bare chest, I nuzzle my nose there. “Okay.”

A gooey sweetness envelops me as a song from when I was a child begins to play over our surround sound—
I Live My Life For You
, by
Firehouse
. Big’s arms encircle me, keeping me protected. Latching my limbs around his torso, my butt sticks out as he proceeds to dance around the outside of the blue inflatable pool that sits in the middle of our living room. The brothers in the basement yell about something. My midwife moves past us to sit on a folding chair next to Pixie. Beth, Jez, and Gunz carry on amongst themselves. The basement door opens and closes as I listen to Big’s heart
thump
steadily against my ear. His hands soothe along my spine in slow strokes of comfort. Another contraction breeches my aching lower back, alerting me of what’s about to come.

“Contraction,” I grind out through the mounting pressure.

“I know. Just let me hold you.”

The tangible need in Big’s voice overpowers my pain as he moves us slowly by spreading my legs a little and then bringing them back together. Over and over, he dances with me through the contraction. Burying my face in his chest, I breathe through it, bathing his naked skin in my dense pants. Holding him tighter, my nails claw at his back to the point of nearly drawing blood. He doesn’t seem to notice as he continues our swaying with my feet atop his like I weigh nothing. Quietly, he sings to me through the plateau, his lips pressed to my hair, hot breath fanning over my scalp. The song ends and is immediately followed by another
Firehouse
classic
.
I know he picked these songs for us. God, he can be amazing when he wants to be.

For quite some time, Big carries me on his feet. Songs pass, and contractions fold into new contractions as they grow closer and more intense. The mounting pressure in my lower half triples, urging me to lie down. But I don’t. I push through it, relishing in my man’s embrace, his scent, his gentle words of encouragement. He treats me like a delicate flower, and I’m not sure if I should be offended and karate chop him in the nuts, or if I should feel special. I choose the latter as his lips press a kiss to the top of my damp head.

Thick fingers comb through my hair and I tip my head back to kiss those handsome lips. “Kiss—” A sudden rush of wetness gushes from between my thighs, severing my words. Mine and Big’s eyes burst wide as I step away from him in shock. Glancing down, my feet are bathed in wetness, as are his. The water doesn’t stop there as it continues to trickle down the insides of my legs, and the extreme need to bear down consumes my lower half. Gritting my teeth, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides, I meet my midwife’s beaming gaze.

“It’s time for the pool. But you need to take off most of your clothes first.” She stands from her chair, the guru of calm.

Nodding, I fumble, trying to grab the hem of my gown. Big gently bats my hand away. “I’ve got this, Sugar Tits.”

With ease, he tugs the garment over my head, exposing every part of me to the entire room, apart from my breasts, which are stuffed into a maternity sports bra. Even Gunz, who’s keenly watching my every move, gets an eyeful. The fact that Big isn’t stabbing his eyes out at this moment is astonishing. He tosses my gown to Pixie, who begins to fold it in her lap.

Taking my hand into his, Big steps into the pool first and then helps me inside. The warm water gently laps at my calves, easing the rising tension. Kneeling, Big maneuvers his body so he’s sitting on the bottom, submerged waist deep in water, legs straight out.

“Sit on me,” he instructs.

Watching his giant hand tap his immersed knee, I shake my head. “That’s what got us into this mess in the first place,” I deadpan.

He and the rest of the room laugh at what they thought was a joke, but my face remains impassive. I’m not kidding. That dick is what got us into this fucking mess. Me wanting him, when I shouldn’t have, even though he’d just fucked a club whore. Sometimes things work out for the best. Hard to put any of that into perspective at the time. But looking back now, I’m glad I did. Even if I’d rather rip his cock off at this moment for putting me through yet another ounce of pain. At least, this time, it’s physical pain. I can definitely handle that a helluva lot better than emotional.

Still amused, he pats his lap for the second time. “Come on, Sugar Tits. Sit on my fuckin’ lap. Doc’s gonna have to examine you again. So please,
sit
on me. I promise not to cop
too much
of a feel.” He winks, grinning. What in the hell is up with this man today? Being sweet. Cracking jokes. Acting playful. This isn’t a playful kinda time. I’m not in the laughing mood. Not when …
son of a bitch
… Another contraction catches up to me and Big grabs my hand, forcing me into his lap before I collapse. My ass settles on his thighs, my back reclining on his beefy chest, head on his shoulder. Muscled arms curve around me, holding me as I grit, grind, and writhe through the agony. Debbie wipes my brow with a cool washcloth, and I revel in the sensation.

No sooner does my contraction subside when Big grabs my knees, forcing my pussy to open as my midwife puts her gloved hand in the water to check me. I squirm as her King Kong fingers probe. Unable to suppress it, I wince for a moment, wanting to punch her in the face.

“You better be fuckin’ careful with her, Doc,” Big growls.

“I’m trying to examine her.” She glares back at him, her brown irises glazed with fire.

“Then check her pussy without makin’ my old lady wince. Ya got me?”

“Have you had a hand shoved up your most private parts while you’re trying to push a small human out of your body?” Her eyes continue to stare daggers, fingers digging for gold. I throttle another wince, sucking it down deep. An uncomfortable knot forms in my gut.

The huffing in Big’s throat, and the sudden stiffness of his frame, tells me he’s keyed up. This is not the time. I don’t want to tame the beast, so they need to put a lid on their shit. “No, but she’s been through enough and you hurtin’ her even more, I’m not gonna fuckin’ tolerate,” he emanates with a menacing thunder. The impulse to elbow him in the ribs is high, but I stamp down the need and let them have at it. Harley is coming whether they duke it out or not.

Doc’s blazing eyes never leave Big’s as her hand re-emerges from the water. The relief is instant and I melt into him, my body going temporarily lax. Arms made of steel fold over my chest, somehow holding me tighter, nearly cutting off my air supply. Struggling, I wiggle in his embrace and he slackens the bands a fraction. On impulse, I inhale an audible lungful of air.