40. Gunner

40

Gunner

Three Years Later

I sit in a rocking chair next to the bed while Montana sleeps. Her brown skin is glowing, and her thick waves are spread out around her face and near her hips. She rolls to the side, snuggling against her pregnancy pillow. Carter will be here in three months, and today we’re going to go shopping for his nursery.

Charlotte squeals in my arms, and I stand up, trying to get her to quiet down so she doesn’t wake Montana. I bundle her tighter in her pink blanket and kiss her brown curls, hoping that’ll settle her down.

She looks so much like her mama. Big, bright hazel eyes, dark brown hair with tighter curls, and a huge smile. Her tan skin is a few shades darker than mine, but she has my nose.

I got my vasectomy reversed shortly before we got married, and we conceived Charlotte on our wedding night in our bed at home. Or maybe it was the barn. Either way, she was made here, and she’s seven months old.

I’m one hundred percent Carter was conceived in our bed. Montana was only four weeks postpartum, and it was too soon for us to go back at it, but we couldn’t resist, and here we are.

I thought I’d like being a father, but I love it.

Every day with Lottie is an adventure. She’s so happy and smart, and I can’t wait to teach her how to fish and ride a horse. The only thing I don’t love is changing her smelly diapers. But I’m trying to savor these moments because she’ll be big before I know it, thinking she’s too cool to hang around her old man.

I walk her out to the hall, telling her stories while she looks up at me mesmerized. After a few more minutes, her eyes start to droop, and I think I may be okay to take her back in the bedroom.

“There you go. Go back to sleep, sunshine.”

Her soft lids start to get heavier by the second, and when she blinks a few times, I go back down the hall, tiptoeing past the bed and sitting back in my chair. I get her to shut her eyes completely and stay still for five minutes, and then she’s up again, squirming in my grasp. I’m getting ready to take her out into the hall again when she starts reaching for one of my nipples with her grabby hands, and I know I have to wake Montana so she can eat.

Although my favorite way to wake Montana is with my face between her legs, it’s not as convenient to do as it used to be with my needy girl Charlotte around, so I place her in the crib quickly, trying to wake Montana gently before our daughter starts howling for attention. A simple brush of my thumb against her cheek gets her to stir, and two kisses to her soft lips gets her eyes to open.

She looks happy and sleepy staring back at me. “Hey, cowboy.”

I give her another kiss. “Hey, Mama. Baby’s asking for you.”

She leans on her elbows, and I help her sit up slowly, getting her back against our soft headboard while she pulls the blanket down to her hips. It takes two seconds for me to grab Charlotte and pass her to Montana, and once she starts feeding her, I go to her bedside cart, passing her a bottle of water and a snack to keep her comfortable. I get her pumps set up with storage supplies on the bed, and after she has everything she needs, I head downstairs and make her breakfast.

Montana’s favorite meal lately is a plate of blueberry pancakes with fried eggs, so I take everything I need out, getting it prepped. While I’m getting the pancakes mixed, I start puréeing some blueberries and pears for Charlotte as we’re slowly introducing her to other foods.

I hear Montana’s soft voice upstairs while she talks to our baby, and my heart feels like it could burst for the love I feel for both of them. She’s such an incredible mother to Charlotte, and I couldn’t ask her to be a better wife. Not that it matters, but my friends love her too. It’s impossible not to love her.

Thanks to Montana, I’ve decided I no longer want to kill Violet. I’m not sure how I feel about that damn horse at this time, but it’s okay having her around. And she’s a good friend to Skye, and our new horses, Belle and Blossom.

I finish up the fruit first as it’s quicker to do, and once I get it stored away for later, I focus my attention on my wife’s meal, wanting to take my time and make it perfect for her.

I’ve gone from being a hitman rancher to a business owner, father, and personal chef. But I wear all of my titles proudly, feeling fulfilled, satisfied, and thankful.

I forgot to make Montana’s pancakes into shapes like I wanted to, so I plate them and cut them into hearts, leaving the scraps on the side for me me to eat. I top her breakfast with our famous blackberry preserves, and then I put her eggs on a separate plate so her food doesn’t touch. She doesn’t ask me to, but I do it because it looks good and puts a smile on her face.

I get a tray out from the cabinet, adding the meal on it, and after filling up her backup water bottle, I take everything upstairs so she can eat in bed.

When I step into the room, she’s rocking Charlotte gently, wrapping up her feeding. I get the food set up and sit on the bed beside her. “Do you want me to hold her while you eat or do you want me to feed you?”

Montana brushes Charlotte’s curls out of her face and readjusts her blanket. “I want you to feed me.”

She glances down and admires my artwork, and I cut up her food for her, giving it to her in small bites. I accidentally get some syrup on Charlotte’s head, but Montana wipes it clean without disturbing Charlotte.

With my girls beside me and my little boy on the way, I feel my cup overflowing with abundance. Montana gives me kisses in between bites, and I lick her blackberry-flavored lips, feeling my need increase for her. She rocks our little tot back and forth, getting her to sleep in half the time that I did. As soon as she’s done eating, I set her plate to the side and scarf down my scraps, wanting to get something going before our child wakes back up and we have to go out for the day .

Montana looks at me longingly, already knowing what I’m up to. I get the bed cleaned off, and I tiptoe to Montana’s side, scooping Charlotte out of her arms, and I take her to her nursery that she’s just started sleeping in last week.

I get back to the room quickly, and when I see Montana’s got the baby monitor set up, I shed my pajamas rapidly and climb into bed beside her. “I need you right now, little fox.”

My wife shoves her pregnancy pillow to the floor and lays on her side with her back to me, looking over her shoulder. “Take me.”

I smooth her hair over her pillow and out of the way, sliding up to her naked body. Pressing my nose to her neck, I inhale her sweet scent, a mix of our lavender soap and her vanilla hair oil. I place my hands on her hips, pulling her ass against my cock while I grind against her, getting us both warmed up.

“I can’t wait to feel you inside me. I’m already ready for you.”

I slip a hand between her thighs, and when I confirm, I position myself at her entrance. “I want to hear you scream my name when you come, Montana Elizabeth Winter.”

She groans when I slip in her, and I wrap one hand around her front, gripping one of her leaking tits while I place the other on her round belly, giving me control over our movements.

She grips my arm with both of hers, holding onto me for support. “Just like that. Fuck, that feels so good. You’re gonna make me come so fast.”

I slide my hand that holds her stomach down her body until I’m holding her leg open to fuck her deeper. “Rub your clit. I want to see your fingers coated with your cream.”

Letting go of my arm, she slips one of her delicate hands between her legs, rubbing herself quickly. Her slick pussy gets louder while I slide in and out. She’s so wet that she starts to drip down my leg. I hook my hand under her thigh, raising her leg and holding it open wider, slamming into her hard and fast.

Her soft and sweet moans get louder the longer we go, and I yank her hair back, feeling more crazed from the feel of her. “You feel so good, baby. It took everything in me not to slide into you while you were asleep.” I still fuck Montana awake, but I decrease my frequency when she gets this far along in her pregnancies.

She slides a hand up to my hair, lacing her fingers through it. “You should have. I would’ve loved it.”

“Fuck, honey.” I slap her wet tit, throwing my gentleness out the window. My hand pulling her hair stays there, but my hand on her leg starts to roam, caressing her fat tits that I love to drink from and down her beautiful curves, and when my palm reaches her ass, I slap it repeatedly, grunting in her ear while her slick walls start to pulsate around me.

“Gunner,” she whispers, trembling in my arms. I come right behind her, hitting her hips with every pulse of my dick.

I pull out gently, and I turn her body to face me so I can kiss her lips. “You’re so damn beautiful.”

She traces my lips with her thumbs. “You’re beautiful.”

I bite her finger and give her a few more kisses before I help her stand and lead her to the bathroom shower. Normally I get in there with her, but I decide to wipe off for now, throwing on an outfit quickly, and let her have some private time so I can surprise her by getting Charlotte ready to go.

I walk back to my daughter’s room and scoop her up, changing her diaper and putting her winter outfit on. She giggles when I tickle her feet, and once she’s strapped to my chest, I pack her baby bag and go back to the bedroom, getting Montana’s purse ready with everything she’ll need for the day.

Knowing my wife needs a break from our child, I walk her downstairs and take her outside, leading her to the stalls. She’s seen the horses before, but I haven’t brought her up too close. Out of all of them, Violet’s the most tame, so I bring Lottie up to her, pointing at our horse and telling her about Violet. I don’t know if Lottie can understand a damn word I’m saying, but she smiles and waves her hands like she does.

My baby sees the other animals in the distance, but I bring her back in the house, not wanting her to get dirty or catch a cold. By the time I wipe off my shoes and get her back upstairs, Montana’s getting out of the shower and drying off.

We’ve been together barely over three years now, but her beauty still takes my breath away. The scared and broken girl I found is now a healthy, vibrant, woman. My woman who’s carrying my second child.

We smile at each other like bashful teenagers and I watch her dress slowly, sliding into a baby pink lace nursing bra with a matching thong. She pulls a pink, fuzzy sweater dress over her plump tits, round belly, and small hips. I bend down with our baby strapped to my chest to help her put on her pink boots.

When I stand, I fluff out her hair, impressed with how long it’s gotten since we met. Her face is a little more round, and all I want to do is cuddle her and kiss her cheeks all day .

“Do I look okay?” She spins in a circle, giving me a good look of everything I’m obsessed with, and I grab her hands to steady her.

“You look perfect. You look like mine.”

She comes up to me and kisses my lips, brushing my hair back. “I am yours.”

“Are you ready to shop all day long?” I thought shopping for a nursery would be quick, but when we were decorating Charlotte’s room, Montana kept me running around for hours. I can only imagine that today will be a repeat of that day.

She laughs and takes my hand leading me out to the hall with her purse over her shoulder. “Yes. And if I don’t find everything I want today, we have to go back out tomorrow.”

I slap her ass. “You said we were sleeping in tomorrow.”

“I said we were sleeping in tomorrow if we find everything I want while we’re about today.”

I find my perfect Sunday slipping away from me. “How about this. If we don’t find everything you want today, we sleep in just a little bit tomorrow, and then I’ll take you wherever you want. Even if it’s hours away.”

Her hazel eyes sparkle, and she grabs the banister, walking downstairs. “I think that’s a good plan. ”

I enjoy my view while I walk behind her, wishing she wore something other than this skin-tight dress. I’m snapped out of my perverted daze when Charlotte sneezes on me, and I wipe my face and dig in my pocket to wipe off my snotty girl before she ruins her outfit.

When we get to the car, I help Montana get seated and comfortable, and then I get Charlotte in her seat in the back. We still have the Camero, but we got an SUV for when we go out as a family. Once everyone’s comfortable and seated, I buckle myself in and drive off our property, getting on the road to town.

Montana turns on the radio, something I’ve come to really enjoy lately, and she sings Christmas songs to Charlotte, keeping her entertained. She rests one of her hands on my thigh, and I cover hers with mine, always wanting her touch at every moment.

And every time I feel her touch, I’m reminded that my once black and cold heart has turned red, beating with life again.