Stricken Resolve Page 2

  Oh shit, my stomach! It twists again and I swallow hard to push the bile back down.

  “Johnathan, are you okay?” Em questions, concern saturating her words.

  “Huh?” I mutter, confused. Rubbing my forehead with my free hand.

  “I just said I was fine. You went quiet. I wanted to call because I haven’t seen you in a few days and I was worried.”

  I clear my throat purposely into the phone. Sureeee… she was worried. Not. She’s got fucking James.

  “You. Are. Not. Worried about me. You’ve got that hot shot fiancé bodyguard to protect and care for you.”

  “Fuck off, Johnathan. I do too worry about you. Whether you like to think so or not,” she snaps, obviously raging pissed. I don’t know of many times she’s not angry with me, at one point or another during a conversation.

  “Well, nothing to be worried about here. Stacy and Kyle are off on a short vacation before the babies come. I’m working a lot, Cammy is taking care of the house and Dylan…,”

  “MAMA BEAR!” Dylan shouts, pounding his little four year old feet up the steps of the raised deck. “Is that Mama Bear?” Dylan grabs my knee with one hand and swipes his sleepy eyes with the other. His hair all mussed from laying down.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be down for a nap?” I squint at him speculatively.

  “I up now. That Mama Bear?” he asks again, less patient this time.

  I nod.

  “Me talk,” he orders, his eyes staring intently at the phone pressed to my ear.

  “Is that Dylan?” Em inquires. The love she has for him shining brightly in her words.

  “Yes, he must have super power hearing to know I was outside on the phone with you. Do you want to talk with him or finish with me first?”

  “Just tell him to go inside and watch Nick because Bubble Guppies is on. And I’ll call him later to chat about the episode.”

  This woman is doing everything in her power to be close with Dylan even from the hospital. Every day she watches children’s shows to talk with him about. He’s learned a lot from her. Emily will make an amazing mother. What isn’t she amazing at? Other than not wanting me? Scratch that, she is amazingly talented at making sure I know she doesn’t want me. It’s painfully obvious.

  I sigh and relay the message to Dylan, who lights up like a Christmas tree and goes scurrying off into the house, headed undoubtedly to Emily’s bedroom to watch Bubble Guppies on Nick.

  “So…” I groan into the phone. I have no idea why she really called. This isn’t like her to go out of her way to chat with me. I’m the one who texts or calls. I can’t even remember the last time she’s phoned me.

  “Well...” She hesitates. “I wanted to tell you that the babies are good. And…I’m…not sure how all this going to work...”

  Work? Huh?

  “Please clarify for me, Short Stack. What working?”

  She huffs into the receiver, clearly frustrated.

  “You, me, James, twins…Is it really hard to understand, and I need to know what’s going to happen. I’m seriously stressing over here. I called as soon as James left the room for a moment. I can’t talk about this in front of him. He swears my concerns aren’t that big of a deal. Yes, they are. I can’t bring babies into this world Johnathan, with you hating him and none of us having a place to live—”

  What the fuck!

  “Whoa! Wait a damn minute. You have a home. I bought this fucking house for us. Or don’t you remember that?” I bark angrily, cutting her off.

  I spent twenty million dollars of my damn money and bought this big ass beach house for her and our children. My old place had three bedrooms, two baths and a two car garage. It wasn’t anything special. I didn’t feel the need to upgrade, regardless of how much dough I’m worth. But then she walks into my life and I suddenly see myself marrying her. Well, before I found out that I was going to be a father. Did she want that? Hell no! She thought I viewed her as some stupid floosy bimbo, like the rest of the hoes I’ve graced my bed with before. Emily’s not stupid, nor a floosy or bimbo.

  A sniffle stifles into my ear. Awe shit! She’s crying!

  “Don’t cry baby,” I coax her with a sweet tone. I didn’t mean to make her cry. Dammit, now I feel like even more of an ass.

  “I… I…Don’t know what to do!” she wails.

  Crying Short Stack? Wow. This is a new side. Where’s my bitchy Short Stack gone to?

  “Sweetheart, calm down. You’ll move into the house here with the twins. I will make sure everything is set up properly. Don’t worry. Just take a deep breath for me. Don’t cry, Short Stack.”

  She breaks another sob into the phone and my chest aches. God, I hate hearing her like this. My baby. My sassy but sweet Emily.

  “Sweetheart?” I ask, trying to make sure she is still paying attention.

  “Y…es?”

  “You need to calm down.”

  “Okay… I just don’t know what to do! I’m stuck in this bed. I’m miserable and itchy and horny. And I can’t have an orgasm, Johnathan. You don’t understand. I can’t have any. My body hurts. I don’t know how much longer I can take this. They won’t let me walk around. They just put a full time catheter in me two days ago. I’m dilating, even though I’m not supposed to be and I have to make sure these babies stay in me at least another few weeks. I feel like a failure. I can’t even carry babies properly. My legs look like a caveman’s and…. And… this all…just sucks...” she states, a little more put together this time.

  Yes, she’s all of those things and before this she was stressed and in emotional pain because of me. Now she’s in physical pain because of me. Is there anything that’s not my fault?

  “Well, let me ease some of your burden and take care of the house. You have a place to live, baby. Here with me, Cammy, Dylan, Stacy and Kyle….and…” Ah, fuck. I don’t want to say this. I really don’t want to agree to this. Here goes to making my life cataclysmically worse.

  “James,” I blurt out fast and suck in a deep almost painful breath. My fingers rubbing the lines on my forehead, as I toss my head forcefully back against the lounger.

  His name leaving my lips is agonizing enough. And now for the sake of the woman I love I will suck this up and live with her fucking fiancé. Her fiancé. Goddamn that sounds awful, unless the name Johnathan Striker were in front of that sentiment.

  “You don’t—”

  I cut her off again. I know what she’s going to argue about and I’ve made up my sadistic mind. “No, I do have to. We’ll be one big happy fucking family.” I try to sound funny but I know I probably sound like a complete sarcastic bastard.

  “Thank you,” she whispers and my heart instantly warms.

  I made my baby happy. That’s all that matters. At least I did one right thing today. Now it’s time to go make things up to the other woman I love.

  We speak for a few more moments and she finally calms down. I hang up and stand, tucking iPhone into my jeans pocket.

  Onward, I traipse down the stairs; out of the frying pain and into the fire, I go.

  Chapter Two

  ~James~

  “What do you mean I have to come in?” I demand in a level tone.

  “Master Sergeant, I deeply regret to have to inform you, but the government needs the information you have stored. We will be sending a team to collect you at O-eight hundred, on Thursday. That should give you a few days to get your affairs in order,” the man on the other end of the line, some Sergeant Major Thomas, says.

  “You don’t understand sir, my fiancé is due to deliver twins very soon. Can’t this wait a few weeks? She’s on bed rest in the hospital. I need to be here for her,” I plead, strongly.

  There is no way I am leaving my pregnant lady to go off and work for the government. When I signed up for this after being discharged from the military. I never thought they’d actually call me in. Davis, Johnathan’s bodyguard and my close and personal friend was in the same program at the same time. I won
der if they’re ordering him to come in too. Not that I can discuss this with him anyhow.

  “Master Sergeant James, I’m sorry but that is not possible. There has been some recent developments that you will be briefed on once you are brought in. I am not at liberty to discuss anything further over the phone. Your duty is to your country and we are calling to collect. You have three days to find somebody to take care of your fiancé. See you on Thursday. Goodbye.” He hangs up.

  What the hell? I don’t even know how long I’m going to be gone. I should have never taken that assignment. What’s Emily going to think? I can’t abandon her. But, how long are they going to expect me to work for them? Years ago when I volunteered for this, I knew it could mean a total change of identity. If the government is worried the information could leak into the wrong hands or that my life’s in danger, they will keep me in a safe house and my former life will end as I know it. Which includes the love of my life and her babies. How could I let this happen?!

  I pace the empty waiting room down the hall from Mama Bear’s room. Scrubbing my hands up and down my scruffy face, I thread my fingers into my black hair and squeeze, grunting in frustration. How in the hell did I let this happen!

  I have lived in a hospital room with my woman for the past— how long has it been? I don’t even know. Days slip into one another, merging together endlessly. And now she’s completely bed ridden and the only thing that seems to keep her from incessantly worrying is either me reading to her, seeing Dylan or me feeding her my manhood. That woman sure does love my semen. I pump her mouth full of it daily.

  I have got to figure out a way to fix this. I can’t leave her. No, I won’t leave her.

  Pulling my hands from my hair, I scuff the heels of my black shit kickers along the white hospital floor, as I slowly slump my way back to Emily’s room. I hate this. There is no way I can tell her. I’ve got to figure something out. But if I’m gone too long I know she’ll start to worry. That’s all she seems to do is: worry. Four times in the past month she’s went into labor. She’s in pain and her body is swollen and big. She’s more beautiful than any woman in the entire world. No matter how she looks. That’s my pregnant lady. My fiancé. And I pray with everything in me that I can figure out a way where she will marry me in the end. Even if I can’t get out of this stupid government bullshit. Pardon the language.

  Grabbing ahold of the handle to her door I hear her talking to somebody on the phone.

  “Thank you,” she says, I can hear the smile in her voice. Oh, what a beautifully angelic, seep-into-your-heart-and-make-your-world-whole, voice.

  I smile big as I think of her laying in that bed. Talking to whomever, that made her smile. Making her smile is the only thing that matters. That’s my soul mate in that room. I will never let anything happen to her.

  Opening the door, she turns her plump pale white face, with reddened eyes toward me. Her body has been retaining water for a few weeks and her poor cheeks and lips are so swollen.

  “Hi, Papa Bear. Where’d you go?” She asks, licking her lips as she slowly draws circles with her fingers around her hardened nipples. I know what that means…

  “Were you crying?” I point to her eyes, taking short strides to her bedside. My manhood already stiff as a rock in my pants. Just looking at her does it to me. I never thought I’d ever find somebody to complete me as much as Emily does. Our souls are two halves of a whole. My penis fits like a key into the lock of her sex. I miss the way it feels. It’s been months since the last time I was able to make love to her. To feel myself gliding into her soft, supple, silky smooth perfection.

  “A bit,” she quirks a half smile, as I sit down beside her on the hospital bed. I’ve slept next to her every night since the night she came into this place. I can’t stand the thought of not being with her.

  Taking my hand, I swipe her fingers from her nipples and guide her right hand to the thick bulge in my pants.

  “This should make you feel better, Mama Bear.”

  Her petite hand grasps my length and I groan deeply in my chest. I love her hands on me. Anywhere on me. But her hands in my pants or her lips around my penis, make everything else seem minuscule, even if they’re not. She’s a drug to me. All consuming and addicting.

  “Is my Bear going to give me some?” she asks, quirking up her brow, with the naughty glint of sexual arousal sparking in her beautiful eyes.

  “My manhood is yours for the taking.”

  I pull her hand from my shaft and stand. Slowly, I slide the zipper down and unbutton my pants. Shimmying them to the ground. I leave my boxer briefs on. Stretching out her hand, Emily takes my erection firmly in her palm and squeezes. My juices flow freely from the head, staining the blue fabric.

  “Ummm...” she hums in her throat as she slowly takes her pink delicate tongue and slides it sexily across her bottom lip, back and forth, as her eyes lock onto the thickness between my legs.

  “It’s a cock baby, not your manhood. It’s my cock,” she huskily states, with such an ardent claim. Making my ‘cock’ swell even larger. I love when she talks dirty to me. It brings me out of my shy state and makes me want to say naughty things back. But I can’t. It’s too hard for me. All the things I want to do to her sexy body. All the ways I want to shower her with love and taint her with my ‘cock.’ Marking every orifice of her body as mine. Only mine. Forever.

  “Yes,” I murmur through clenched teeth, trying to keep my moans from audibly surfacing. “It’s yours.”

  She winks darkly and grabs my nut.

  Oh, god! I love it when she grabs it.

  “Do you like this Papa Bear?” She eyes me, waiting for my reaction. And all I can do is nod, as I suck in a deep lung full of air. My heart hammering in my chest. Oh, what this gorgeous woman does to me.

  Guiding me forward by tugging on my sac, I comply to her palpable need, smelling her arousal in the air. It’s thick and sweet. Commanding my mouth to salivate. I can’t wait until I can suckle her clit into my eager mouth once again. Nibbling on it with all the desire I have for her, that courses readily through my veins.

  “I need him,” she states lowly, her voice cracking.

  Tugging my boxers down to pool with my pants around my ankles. I kneel up onto her bed and she scoots downward, to meet my throbbing hard-on with her welcoming mouth.

  “Hi,” she speaks to him, her eyes focused on only him.

  Sticking her tongue out, one hand encasing my scarred sac, she swirls the head, around and around. Air shooting out for her nose in hot bursts, skating across my trimmed pubis.

  “I need this,” she breaths on him and sucks his ridged flesh into her silken hole.

  I gasp and throw my hands over my mouth. I’m going to burst any moment!

  Sweet Jesus, her mouth is so hot and wet. Her tongue presses tightly against my scar and engulfs my manhood in one swallow. Her lips brushing against my pubic hair.

  “Oh, Mama Bear. You feel so good. I’m not going to last long,” I grunt between my grinding teeth.

  Torturously, she eases off my manhood, sucking only on the head.

  “Face fuck me,” she orders.

  You don’t have to tell me twice.

  With my left hand gripping the top of the bed for stability, I take my right and thread it through the curls of her red hair. Her mouth opens wider as I pump into her mouth.

  In and out, with fluid motions I grind into her silken hot hole. Hitting all the way back, as she moans with each thrust. Her nails digging into my muscled butt. My lady feels amazing.

  “I’m close,” I growl, holding back my impending explosion. Not yet. Just a little bit longer. But she feels so good. I don’t ever want this to end.

  Humming excitedly in her throat, it vibrates through the head of my manhood and I squeeze my eyes shut and grip her hair harder as my soldier swells. Oh god! Here it comes! I burst my hot salty juices into her mouth. And she greedily swallows every last drop as she moans with delight. Like she does every day as I fe
ed her my come.

  Loosening my grip on her hair and Emily extracting her nails from my flesh, I climb down off the bed. She smiles up at me, locking her eyes with mine.

  “I love you,” she says, and my heart flutters in my chest. How could this woman get any more wonderful?

  “I love you more, Mama Bear.” I smile ear-to-ear. Wow. I sure do love her. I don’t think I never knew what love was until I met her.

  “Come...” she pats the bed next to her, sliding over to make room for me.

  “I thought I just did that.”

  She laughs, throwing her head back. “Yes, yes, you did. And I love it. Just like I love it every day. But I’m getting tired sweetie and I want to cuddle with my fiancé,” she says, emphasizing “fiancé” like it’s the most precious word ever to impart from her lips.

  Making myself decent again, I follow her sweet words and crawl in next to her. Tucking my arm underneath her head, caressing the sides of her cheeks.

  “You’re beautiful.” I kiss her forehead and lean my cheek against it. Resting alongside her, pressing my warmth against her hospital gown clad body. Her head nuzzles its way to her favorite place, my chest, and I hold her close. Inhaling her strawberry scent. My face pressed into the curls of her hair.

  I don’t know how I will survive without this closeness every day. You never realize how much you need or want something until you have it. Or it’s threatened to be taken from you. That’s what I realized the day she hemorrhaged at the beach house on the deck. After the whole ordeal at the hospital with me donating my blood for them to use on her, I’ve donated three more times since then. Just in case when she goes into have the babies, she bleeds out again. They wanted to make sure they had enough blood stores for her. And I’ve been more than willing to donate as much as they need. Whatever she needs, I will provide. Blood, money, even my life if it ever comes to that.