The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 4 (MC Chronicles #4) (3 page)

“No more!” Big grinds out, yanking his finger from my mouth with a
pop
.

Fuck, he’s not the only one breathing heavily. I am, too. Even my nipples are hard. This isn’t the time for that. If only my body would listen. “I wanted to do it,” I blurt, so he doesn’t feel guilty.

“And I wanted ya to do it even more than you wanted to. You’re in labor. I gotta stop thinkin’ with my dick for one fuckin’ second. Even if you’re too damn tempting for your own good.”

Yes, he’s starting to beat himself up. I knew he would do this. For whatever stupid reason, he has this thought in his mind that he wants me when he shouldn’t, and that he might be forcing himself on me. It makes no damn sense. Not when I lust after him just as much, if not more so, than he does me. Once Harley’s born, I hope that whatever set him on that fucked up path cools down. I’ve got a feeling someone put that ridiculous notion in his head. When my midwife had given us the go-ahead to resume sex, he was like a damn kid in a candy store. A few days later, after we’d humped like rabbits and my pussy was too sore to do more, he changed his tune. Sure, we’ve had sex since then, but it’s mostly been him pleasuring me and then pleasuring himself. Like I said, I think someone fucked with his head. And it’s getting on my damn nerves. I’ll set that shit straight if he doesn’t stop this soon.

With a brief kiss on the side of my head, Big starts for the closet. I turn my head to watch his hard cock swinging in all its glory before he turns the corner and I get a quick glimpse of that tight, yummy, ass. “I know you’re lookin’ this way, Bink. Stop,” he groans in apparent frustration.

“If you come back in here, I’ll give ya a blow job.” It wouldn’t take long, and I’m sure I won’t be up to it after our daughter is born. Better late than never. Right?

“Not happening.” I hear him putting clothes on. A zipper is secured. “You’re my old lady, and it’s my fuckin’ job to give you pleasure. I like havin’ my dick down that sexy throat. But I’m not that big of an asshole that I’d want ya to do it when you’re probably in labor. That’s some sick shit. And I’d kick anyone’s ass who’d do that to the love of their life.”

Awe, him and those damn words again. Makes me wanna melt. Are ya right there with me?

“Get some rest, sexy.” He exits the closet and walks over to my side of the bed in a pair of jeans and a black
Harley
t-shirt. He kneels down to give my lips a soft, lingering kiss. “I love you and what ya do to me.” A peck. “But I’m old enough to know what’s right and wrong, even if my cock doesn’t.” Another kiss. “Rest.” Kiss. “You’re gonna need it, and I’ve got shit to do. I’ll make sure one of the sisters are down here soon.” Another kiss, lingering this time until his breath fans over my cheeks and I’m threading my fingers behind his head, pulling him closer. His hand slides over my belly as he rumbles a guttural moan in his throat. My tongue pokes his lips, begging for entrance, and he acquiesces. Banishing a satisfied groan, my tongue swirls with his in a slow, tender cadence, until we’re both left slightly breathless and full of a deep, all-consuming bliss.

Our lips part like magnets that can’t seem to release. “I love you, too,” I whisper to his mouth.

“The wild fuckin’ things you do to me,” he states in awe, moving to stand, and adjusts his erection in his jeans to run down the inside of his pant leg where his pre-come stains the denim.

“Now, rest.” One more kiss to the forehead and Big is nearly sprinting from the room like he’s on fire.

“That sexy fuckin’ bitch,” I hear him grumble as he shuts the door in his wake. “I can’t believe she offered to…” His words trail off as he walks down the hall, leaving me in peace.

Snuggling down into the mattress, I rest easy with a smile on my face.

Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s been twelve minutes since my last contraction. Maybe I’m not in labor. Not sure how I feel about that. I want Harley to come today. I can’t wait to be a mom, even if I’m nervous about it.

Two minutes later, my resting is short lived as I’m gripped with another painful tightening of my stomach. Fuck … I’ll see you … later … when I’m … in full labor. Maybe later today, maybe not. But for now, go rest. I know you need it, too.

Peace.

“Just lie back and open your legs. It’s going to be a little uncomfortable, but I’ve got to check your progress,” my midwife instructs as she kneels at the end of the bed. I grab my knees, pulling them to my chest to open myself up to this godawful inspection. A little discomfort, my ass. The last time she checked me was in her office, and I nearly kicked her.

“Can you please grab her leg?” My midwife looks to Pixie, who’s glued to the far wall, her eyes cast on the ceiling, trying to give me an ounce of privacy. I think that’s pretty much flown out the damn window when she’s seen me naked plenty of times. We’re girls. We’ve all got the same parts, so I don’t really see the need to cover up.

“Sure,” Pixie’s meek voice responds on her way to the bed. Her fingers wrap around my knee to keep it in place.

Jezebel struts into the room, her sexy hips swaying in her tight jeans.

“Can you take her other leg, please?” my midwife requests.

“Since when do you secure a woman’s legs when she’s getting a vaginal exam?” Awaiting her answer, Jezebel slides onto the mattress to secure my other leg with her warm hands.

“Bink didn’t care for this too much the last time. I had to have Big…” She coughs a little clearing her throat. “…Dick, secure her legs.”

Internally, I laugh at her discomfort with his name. As much as she hates to be called Doc, she hates to call him Big Dick even more. And because he’s an asshole, he’s pretty much demanded she call him that at all times. I’ve told her to just call him Big, but she’s too professional to go against his wishes. They have a serious love/hate relationship going between them. Although, I think his is stemmed from a whole lot of respect while hers is from irritation. Not that I blame her. He’s the one blowing up her phone all the time, asking some of the dumbest questions.

Speaking of him…

“Where’s Big?” I ask Jez, helping them hold my legs back as my pussy is out in all of its full glory for anyone who might pass by the bedroom door.

“He’s downstairs setting up the room.”

“Setting up the room?” I don’t really know what’s to be set up. Weird.

“The brothers are piling in for a long day of labor, and Big is making sure the fridge is fully stocked so they don’t come up and get an eyeful of your sexy bits.” Her eyebrows waggle.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.

“Seriously?” I ask, briefly making a disgruntled face.

Fingers breach my opening, and I growl in my throat as my sensitive flesh is parted and King Kong digits are shoved up my cooch. My head smashes into the pillow under my head as I breathe through the
mild discomfort
, trying not to whine like a weak bitch.

“Yes. It was Steel’s request that we set it up.” Jez keeps talking to distract me, her finger drawing circles on my knees, her eyes on my face. Pixie is too busy staring at the ceiling to pay much attention to what’s happening.

My daddy doesn’t want to be in the room to see his granddaughter born because he can’t
unsee things
—his words not mine. So now he intends to party while I’m upstairs going through a grueling birth process? That doesn’t seem very fair, now does it? Fucking men. I wonder what Mandy had to say about this.

“And Mandy?” I grumble through clenched teeth. The fingers probe more and I shift my bottom, wanting to scoot away. Instead, I release a pent-up breath.

“I didn’t ask. But she’s downstairs helping Big set up.”

Of course she is. My dad and she are a match made in heaven. She’s even staying here with him, now that my mom’s shit is gone. Out with the old and in with the sorta new. I like her much better, anyhow. She’s a sweet lady.

The fingers stop moving and my midwife’s hand is removed from my pussy. Breathing a sigh of great relief, I glance down at her for an update. Peeling the gloves off her hands, she turns them inside out before stuffing them into a plastic bag that she has in her pocket. My legs are released, so I readjust myself and sit up with some serious effort. Jezebel chuckles from my side, knowing that it’s not easy to move when you’re this big. Turning my head, I give her a dirty look and she grins knowingly. I roll my eyes, wanting to tell her off, yet, think better of it.

“And?” I direct the question to my midwife, losing my patience with all of this.

After Big had left this morning so I could rest, I got about twenty minutes of interrupted sleep and then finally gave up and came upstairs. Big was nowhere to be found, so I made myself a bagel and some orange juice to keep my strength up. Big returned home just as I took my first bite of food at the kitchen counter. Long story short, I was scolded for not telling him I was up, and that I shouldn’t have walked upstairs without his assistance. As if I’m some fucking weak bitch who needs to be doted on hand and foot. Sometimes I think he doesn’t know me at all. The argument lasted a couple of minutes, and ended when another contraction robbed me of speech. Deb came over shortly thereafter to keep an eye on me, and everyone else has been showing up in a steady stream ever since. It’s a full house.

“You’re between six and seven centimeters,” she answers, fiddling with her phone. Most likely imputing information.

“And that means what?” Pixie probes, no longer counting the spots on the ceiling. Her finger tucks a piece of blue hair behind her ear.

“That Bink is…” She pauses to finish with her phone, then tucks it into her back jeans pocket. “It means that Bink is in active labor. It should only be a few more hours. I’d say three to four at most.” She looks to me. “But since you were already four centimeters the last time I checked and you held there for a while, I’m not sure how long it’ll take.”

“Should we ready the pool?” Deb interrupts, entering the room with an armful of fresh towels, straight from the dryer. I can smell the
Downy
scent from here.

Arms relaxed at her sides, my midwife turns to her. “It looks like she’ll be progressing quickly, so have all of her birthing aids on standby.”

Deb nods, her brown hair falling over her slender shoulders. “Okay. We’re on it.” She glances over to Pixie and Jezebel. “Ball, pool, towels,” she raises her arms, gesturing to the towels with the incline of her head, “bowl, baby blankets, and wash cloths. They need to be set on the couch in the living room a-sap. Enlist Gunz to help if you’d like. He just arrived.” She finishes her directives, and before anyone can get a word in edgewise, she’s pivoting on her heel, heading into the other room.

“Where’s my favorite girl?!” Gunz hollers down the hallway. I have to grin at the wonderful sound of his voice as I pull my long nightgown over my exposed parts. Out of habit, my arms curl around my beach ball sized belly.

“We’ll go help Debbie.” Pixie waves for Jez to follow and they both exit the room just as Gunz stops outside, peering around them to find me sitting at the end of the bed, my feet dangling off the floor.

“I’ll go get my stuff ready.” My midwife moves around Gunz and heads in the same direction as the rest of my Sacred Sisters.

Gunz welcomes himself into my space, which somehow fills with a profound serenity just having him this close. I haven’t seen him in two days, and I’ve missed him. He doesn’t say a word as he saunters over to the bed and drops down beside me. The bed bows under his weight and I wobble a little, my shoulder momentarily knocking with his before I even out. A pair of suckers are tugged from his cut. He unwraps them both, handing me one. Popping it into my mouth with a sigh, a layer of companionable silence settles over us, leaving only the distant voices of the men downstairs and my sisters in the living room to keep us company. I suppress a moan of sweet satisfaction as I twirl the sugary goodness between my teeth, bathing my tongue in root beer delight. A cramp in my lower back starts and I know the next contraction is seconds away. The feeling curls up my spine and radiates into my belly as the increased tightness grips like a vice. Inhaling a ragged breath, I clamp my teeth around the sucker stick to transition through the growing pain. My muscles tense and I release a tiny noise from my throat.
Jesus, this fucking kills.

“Contraction, huh?” he asks, and I say nothing. Gunz’s hand slides down my spine in long caresses. It does little to dull the ache. “You’re doin’ good.”

Trying not to hold my breath, the sensation of my belly turning to marble robs me of that ability. Air seizes in my throat, a knot forming there. Closing my eyes, I pray to the heavens above, asking for a moment's reprieve. Seconds feel like hours. Sweat drips from my temple, down the sides of my cheeks. I can’t believe it could get any worse, but I was so very wrong. Ages pass, and the tension builds in my body at an all-time high before the vice, gripping my center, relents.

“Seventy-two seconds, Baby Doll,” Gunz counts beside me, his hand settling on my thigh.

Slumping my shoulders forward, weighted with exhaustion, I turn my head to garner eye contact. Those caring orbs reach into me, delivering a needed surge of adoration. A temporary calmness settles, relaxing my frame. I exhale a breath, removing the sucker stick from my lips. Gunz plucks it from my fingers and slips it into his jean pocket.

“I think this is gonna be a tough day, but we’re here for ya. Ain’t nothin’ gonna happen to my girls.” His arm lays over my shoulder, tucking me to his side. Dropping my head, I rest it on him and dampen my lips with the sweep of my tongue.

“I know, but it’s been hours of this. And that was the worst one yet,” I express as I absentmindedly rub my belly. Gunz’s hand joins mine.

“This okay?”

“Yeah. Until I have another contraction.”

His hand continues its love. “How’s Big been handlin’ this?”

“My labor?”

Even though I can’t see it, I feel him nod.

Knowing there’s not much to say, I shrug. “He’s been fine. It’s been hours of this, and from the sounds of it, hours more.”

Powerless to throttle my groan, it kind of slips out, foreshadowing my growing distress. When you choose to have children, you hear about how magical it is. I’ve held onto that notion for months. Even through the times with Marshall and my mother kidnapping me, I’ve held on to the concept that being a mother is all that matters—that my daughter is all that matters. It’s true, and it’s gotten me through some pretty dark spots in my life. Not knowing if Big could accept me—us. Our constant battles. It’s been my saving grace. However, today, the day that I finally get to become a mom. It doesn’t feel magical. It doesn’t surround me in this growing love and warmth like I suspected it would. I’m filled with tension and relentless anxiety. Questions that I’ve tried to keep buried have surfaced, nagging me with no end in sight. Will I be a good mother? Will she be healthy? Is this something Big truly wants, or is he just going along for the ride because he loves me? Will my daughter love me? Knowing that my own mother spent my entire life hating me for the most selfish of reasons, I can’t help but worry. Everything is coming to a head. My body is tired. My brain a muddled mess. It’s been hours of contractions, of throbbing, of locked jaws and back pain so severe I want to crawl into a ball and cry. I knew giving birth naturally wasn’t going to be easy. I’ve watched videos, I’ve read countless books. But nothing, and I do mean, nothing, prepares you for this. You can’t rest, you’re nauseous, pain spikes to levels you didn’t know were humanly possible, and you don’t want to eat or drink. All you want is for it to be over so you can hold your prize. Please tell me you’ve been where I am before. That I’m not alone in this. Please tell me that it gets better.

A tear drips down my cheek, and I wipe it away before Gunz notices.

No more crying, Bink.

Jezebel appears in the doorway. “We’re all set out here. Pool’s full, ball, music, towels, and everything else is ready whenever your sexy ass is.”

“Thanks, Jez,” Gunz says.

“Yes, thank you.” Sincerity clings to my every word, and she bows her head in recognition before leaving us once again.

The edge of another contraction nears and I prepare myself the best I can. Gunz seems to notice the tightness in my stomach when he removes his hand and holds me closer. “You can do it, Baby Doll.” His voice is strained just like Big’s has been when I go through these. I can sense their unease through their words. They want to take it away, to make me feel better, I know this. I can feel it in the way Gunz sways me with his body, side to side, as the contraction strengthens.