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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

ANNA

W hispered voices penetrated my brain, but initially, I couldn’t make out the words or even who was speaking. They sounded distorted, much like Daisy’s voice did in the other room. Weird, high-pitched beeps plagued me, and I remembered thinking how damned well aggravating they were.

Nightmares assailed my mind. At one point, I was drowning in the river after Daisy dragged me there and tied rocks to my feet just like she said she would. The bitch threw me in, and however hard I tried to swim, I kept sinking further and further into the murky depths. The water enveloped my nose and mouth, and I struggled to take in air.

At one point, I could sense light shining directly in my eyes, but seconds later, the darkness returned. I thought I could hear deep, rumbling voices, but I still couldn’t hear the words.

After a while, the voices became coherent, and I was sure I could hear Freya, but that wasn’t right. How could Daisy have her, too?

I think it was Hendrix’s voice that brought me back to the surface, and the reason I so desperately wanted to float awake was because he was singing, and it was beautiful.

Then, suddenly, his voice was all around me.

Anna. Wake up.

Wake up, baby.

Anna. Somebody wants to meet you.

I love you, Freckles.

My eyes blinked open, and I let out a low, broken moan. The dull ache in my stomach was so acute that it took my breath away. It was agonizing, like I’d been ripped apart from the inside out. Instinctively, I knew the baby wasn’t there anymore because I felt empty.

The dim light of the room was gentle on my eyes, so it only took me a minute to work out that I was in one of the medical rooms at the hotel.

The relief I felt at not being back in that house was so immense that I felt a tear trickle down my face and fall into my hair. “Jamie?” I whispered, my voice raspy from underuse. “The baby. Where is he? Is he okay?”

Jamie’s voice whispered from somewhere in the dim light. “He’s perfect.”

I closed my eyes as another tear fell.

Hendrix’s voice didn’t come from my bedside, like I expected. It came from further out in the room somewhere. I turned my neck, averting my eyes to the side of the bed, and I drew in a sharp intake of breath at the sight before me.

Jamie lounged back on a comfortable-looking armchair wearing just a pair of jeans. His feet and chest were as bare as the day he was born. His hair was loose around his shoulders, and his eyes were bright with tears as they stared into mine.

But what made my heart leap for joy was the sight of the baby held secure and safe in his huge, muscular, tattooed arms.

My heart skipped a beat at the first glimpse of my boy.

My son.

I choked out a sob and tried to move my body up the bed, needing to get to them. My arms felt empty, and my heart felt lost and adrift.

“No. No, baby, don’t move,” Jamie murmured. “I’ll bring him to you. You had a C-section yesterday, and you’re stitched up.”

“Is he okay?” I croaked. “What happened? I remember running with Charlie.” I paused as another memory hit me from left field. “Oh my God. I shot Daisy. Is she dead?”

“Let’s hope so,” Hendrix mumbled. He maneuvered himself to his feet and took the few steps toward the bed before dropping his ass smoothly next to mine and stretching out beside me.

Making a cradling motion with my arms, I waited for my son to be gently transferred into them.

“There you go, little fella,” he murmured. “There’s your mom. Told you she’d be back soon.”

My heart knitted back together, and suddenly, I felt full again. Wet eyes sliced downward, and I drank in every tiny detail of my son’s face.

Jamie was right. He was perfect. The baby wore a little white knitted hat and a diaper. He was sound asleep, and his little rosebud lips were pursed. His skin held a slight olive tone and was so smooth that he felt like silk in my arms. I counted his little fingers and toes and smiled at his slightly distended belly and spindly legs and arms, wondering how I could have made something so damned beautiful.

The stitches in my stomach pulled from the angle I sat in, but I didn’t care. The pain didn’t register. All I could feel was my heart bursting with love and relief that my boy was okay.

I tilted my head and smelled his wonderful baby scent. “Isn’t he cold?” I whispered, wondering why he wasn’t in a romper.

“We were doin’ a bit of skin-to-skin contact,” Hendrix murmured. “Doc says it’s good for bonding, and I want our boy to be just as happy in my arms as he is in yours. Doc says my body heat will keep him warm enough, but I can wrap him in a blanket if you prefer. Whatever you want, baby. You’re his mom.”

“How do you know about skin-to-skin?” I asked gently.

“I read about it,” he replied. “Been reading up on a lotta stuff while you were asleep.”

“How much did he weigh?”

Hendrix grinned. “Five pounds one ounce. He was born at eleven fifty-eight last night.”

“He’s so small,” I whispered.

“But perfect, baby. He was in the incubator for twelve hours, but Bones is happy with his progress.”

My stare cut to his. “Incubator?”

“He was seven weeks early. It was just a precaution, and it’s okay, baby, I stayed with him the whole time. I held his hand and talked to him. He was never alone. I knew it was what you would’ve wanted.”

Relief made my shoulders slump, and my eyes lifted from my son’s face to look at Hendrix. “Tell me what happened? Is Charlie okay?”

“He’s fine. His GSW’s healing. The bullet went straight through and didn’t hit anything major. He’s got a room on the first floor for however long he wants it. Dunno if he’ll stay, but there’s a place for him here. I owe him big.”

“How did he know I was there?” I asked. “What happened?”

Hendrix gently smoothed his hand over the baby’s head. “Charlie’s tent is pitched close to the house where you were kept, near the river. He was foraging when he saw Tweety leaving and went up to investigate. It was my aunt's house, the one I told you about. Daisy had been holed up there on and off since I threw her out of the club. Charlie knew somethin’ was amiss, so he walked the perimeter and heard Daisy talking on the phone about killing you and knew he needed to get you outta there quickly. He wanted to come to me first but was worried it would be too late by the time we got to you, so he went for it. He told me you shot Daisy, baby, but I honestly dunno if she’s dead. Ace came for her before we got there. Saw ‘em speeding away. Boys went after the fuckers but came across some cops, so they had to turn back.”

My eyelids began to droop. “Where’s Tweety?”

“Dad caught him trying to hotwire a car. He won’t be a problem anymore.”

I knew I’d have to ask for the details at some point, but I wasn’t sure my brain could handle it right then. I was feeling so groggy and exhausted.

“Take the baby, please, honey. I’m not gonna stay awake much longer.” My eyes closed, and I felt my son being lifted from my arms. “Thanks for looking after him,” I whispered, wincing at the pain pulling at my stomach as I moved to try and get more comfortable.

“You don’t need to thank me for looking after my boy,” Hendrix told me, his tone full of reverence. “I’ve claimed you both. You’re mine, and so’s he. Loved him from the moment I saw him on the screen when I brought you here. Every day since that love grew bigger. Then yesterday, he opened his eyes and stared into mine, and that was when I fell hook, line, and sinker. He’s changed me already, Anna. I feel calmer. You settle me, but so does he, and I wanna do right by you both.”

I smiled at the beauty in his words.

Hendrix had come a long way from the cocky commitment-phobe I had (what I thought was) a one-night stand with after meeting in a back road bar all those years before. If somebody had told me then that he’d be reading baby manuals and doing skin-to-skin contact with my son, I would’ve laughed myself sick.

It was funny how life turned out.

Six Weeks Later

Intense blue eyes stared down at me, and Jamie whispered, “You feel like mine.”

My heart fluttered.

He dipped his head and caught a nipple in his mouth, kissing it gently before moving to the other.

My back arched from the bed, and I whimpered, my fingers clasping the back of his head to anchor him to me.

I closed my eyes, losing myself to the sensation of Hendrix’s lips, his beard, his warm breath whispering across my skin and sending delicious little shivers down my spine.

Today, I’d been for my post-pregnancy check-up and had been given the all-clear. All it took was for me to walk into our suite and beam a smile Hendrix’s way before he backed me up against the wall and kissed me dizzy.

“Missed this,” he murmured, his teeth nipping the sensitive underside of my breasts. “Missed you.”

I made a strangled noise of agreement, my mind blanking from sexual overload as Hendrix’s lips dipped lower. His hands came to my hipster panties and began to tug them down, and my heart jolted nervously.

“Don’t,” I murmured.

His beautiful blue eyes lifted to mine, confusion filling them as he stared at me. “What?”

“I’m not the same anymore,” I whispered. “I haven’t bounced back into shape. My skin’s loose, and I’ve got stretch marks, and my scar?—”

He shifted back up the bed until our heads were level and looked at me like I was crazy. “There isn’t a universe that exists where I don’t think you’re anything short of perfect. Have I ever given you the impression I don’t find you sexy as all fuck?”

I shook my head. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

“Why, baby?”

My hands trailed over his beautiful shoulders, feeling his muscles flex against my fingertips. “I’m struggling with losing the baby weight and?—”

He threw his head back and burst out laughing.

“Hey!” I slapped his shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“It’s fucking hilarious,” he choked out. “Lose the baby weight? Are you fucking delusional? There’s nothing of ya.”

“But I’ve got a pooch,” I argued.

He got to his knees, jerked my hips up, tugged my granny panties down my legs, and threw them over his shoulder, leaving me bare. His eyes slid down to my stomach, and he barked, “Where?”

I touched my belly and jiggled it. “There.”

He dived downward, nuzzled it with his mouth, and growled, “Looks fuckin’ beautiful to me.”

My thighs clenched.

Strong hands threw my legs over his shoulders, then he held my pussy lips apart with his fingers and slowly licked my clit with the flat of his tongue.

My hips bucked, and I moaned.

He lifted his head and grinned up at me. “Tastes fuckin’ good, too. Just like mine.”

His face lowered, and he burrowed his nose in my mound and pulled in a long sniff. “Even your scent is mine.”

I think I melted into the mattress.

Another deep growl hit the ether, and I watched, fascinated, as Hendrix dipped his head again. He caught my clit between his lips and sucked it deep into his mouth.

“Jamie,” I moaned, clasping his head against my sex. “Oh my God.”

“You’re mine, Anna,” he murmured, nipping the inside of my thigh. “I don’t care about baby weight or pooches. All I care about is raising our boy to be true and strong. I care about doing things right this time and not screwing everything up. I care about learning to be a good ol’ man and a good dad. None of that other shit matters. D’ya get me?”

My heart swelled. “Yes.”

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demanded.

I smiled. “You.”

“And I belong to you,” he said like a vow. “And I always will.” His stare lowered, and his nostrils flared. “You’re so fucking pretty for me.” His fingertips brushed along the crease where my pussy met my inner thigh to trace the smattering of marks. “There’s my freckles. I missed them.”

His face dipped, and he pushed his tongue inside and began to lap gently at me.

My insides seized up. My stomach muscles contracted, and my thighs clenched. I cried out as Hendrix pushed a finger inside me before adding another, sliding them inside and filling me over and over until my hips writhed uncontrollably.

A heavy, muscular arm fell over my stomach, and he pinned me down. The pressure of his tongue increased, and then he latched his mouth onto me and began to suck it hard and deep, humming his pleasure against my clit.

My heart raced, forcing my blood through my veins.

Hendrix made everything heated. My skin felt as if it were on fire. I forced my legs wider apart, my fingers reaching down again to hold him to me by his hair while I rode his face.

When my orgasm hit, the pleasure was so intense that I couldn’t catch my breath. I cried out as every muscle clenched tight and then imploded from the inside out.

Hendrix didn’t let up. He kept licking, sucking, and fucking me with his fingers until all of the aftershocks faded away, and I was left shaking on the bed.

He shifted up and eased himself between my legs, taking my head in both hands. “Look at me, Anna,” he demanded.

Our eyes locked, and my belly fluttered.

“I love you.” He lowered one of my legs and hooked it around his waist. “Always will.” He tugged his cock and guided it into place before pulling his hips back and pushing inside me.

My back bowed off the bed, and I let out a low moan. It had been a while for me, and Hendrix was larger than average, but the bite of pain only made me more aroused.

He stayed rooted inside me, not moving, just letting me adjust to his size while smoothing my hair away from my face. “Now you’re really mine again. And this time, I won’t ever let go.” His lips caught mine, our tongues tangling together, and he began to slowly grind his hips in a circular motion.

I closed my eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by the love in the room, along with the feelings of closeness covering us like a warm blanket.

“Look at me, Anna,” he breathed. “Give me your eyes.”

I opened them to see Jamie’s blue orbs burning into me, setting my soul on fire. The feelings of intimacy he evoked were unlike anything I’d ever experienced. I’d never felt closer to anyone before.

My pussy clenched, milking his cock, and he let out a deep, throaty groan. “I dreamed of this. You haunted me, baby. I never let you go because nothing ever felt better.”

The force of his movements increased, and his fingers pressed into my hips as he drove his cock into me. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Anna.” He dipped his head and kissed my neck, making me shiver with the erotic sensations he aroused.

I turned my head to the side, but his hands forced it back again. “No,” he said. “I wanna watch you when you come for me. Wanna see everything. You’re so fuckin’ beautiful.” He groaned. “Nothin’ feels as good as you.” His strong hips began to power harder, and he tilted my ass so he could drive deep inside.

My whimpers filled the air.

“Fuck, yeah,” he grated out, the cords in his neck tightening with effort.

The hand cupping my ass moved around to my pussy. Hendrix went up on one arm, his eyes dropping to where we were joined, and he watched himself glide in and out.

“We’re beautiful together,” he muttered, his fingers brushing over my clit.

I cried out because I was so so sensitive and so so ready to come again.

Circling his hips, he pressed harder, and I couldn’t stop my body from writhing uncontrollably. My pussy clenched, and I began to feel the pressure in my stomach build for a second time.

“That’s it, baby,” he crooned. “Come for me.”

My climax streaked through me, and I yelled out his name, my cries mingling with his grunts as he drove his cock into me so hard that I saw stars. Pressure exploded in my core, and my nails sank into his back, my hips bucking uncontrollably as I was catapulted into my climax.

“Jesus, Anna. I’m coming.” He suddenly pulled out and sat back on his haunches, his hand going to his cock and pumping it with long hard strokes.

The head was purple and straining, and he moaned loudly, his fist jerking as he stared deep into my eyes. Hendrix growled long and low before letting out a shout, then warmth hit my skin as ropes of cum spurted over my stomach and breasts, heating every inch of skin it touched, branding me as his.

I reached up to his throat, touching the spot where his pulse fluttered uncontrollably.

Eventually, Hendrix’s strokes slowed, and his shoulders slumped. With a muttered curse, he dropped down onto the bed beside me.

“Jesus fuckin Christ,” he croaked. “Holy fuckin’ shit.”

I laughed softly, looking down at the mess he’d made of me. “You’re cleaning that up.”

He buried his head in the pillow and let out a sigh of contentment before chuckling. “Jesus fucking fuck.” His head turned toward me, and he cracked one eye open, a big grin spreading across his face. “See how much of a damn I give about a pooch?”

“Judging by that performance, I’d go as far as to say you like my pooch,” I said wryly. “I’m a sticky mess.”

His fingers came to my stomach and rubbed his cum into my skin in circles. “We’ll get a shower then I’ll go get JT from Dad.”

I was a great believer in carrying on family names, of honoring the people in your life who touched your heart and added something good. It seemed Will agreed with me because Jameson was named after his grandfather—though he insisted that knowing his dad the way he did, it was more likely he was named in homage to the Irish whiskey brand. Still, I’d always loved the name James, so I asked Hendrix if he’d mind.

He almost broke down and wept with joy, so I took that as a yes.

The T was after another man in my life. A good man, true and strong, loyal and kind, and one I knew would be a beautiful role model to my boy and an even better godfather.

My boy was named James Tristan Bouchard.

Perfect, just like him.

Maybe one day, my son’s last name would change along with mine, but I was in no hurry. Hendrix asked me if I wanted to pack some things, take the baby, fly to Vegas, and just do it, but I said no. I’d been married twice, and both relationships ended in disaster. I wasn’t ready, and neither was he—though he insisted he was— go figure .

But it was time to do things differently. A wedding didn’t automatically equate to love.

Love equated to love, and luckily, we had that in abundance.