8. Noah

8

Every morning when Xander arrives, it's like a reprieve because the night before was like a nightmare. I love my mother-in-law—I've loved her my entire life—but I need to find a way to keep her away from my wife. Yes, I know they have some mother-daughter bond, but the daughter in this situation—my wife—is fucking miserable and her mother makes things worse when she's here. I know Katelyn means well, but she's nitpicking about shit that's completely out of Peyton's control. Peyton can't help that she was in an accident that nearly killed her and can't change the damage done to her. It is what it is and there isn't anything any of us can do about it. Katelyn telling Peyton the shots don't hurt and to just relax only make things worse.

Is it my place to say something to Katelyn?

Should Peyton?

She's already an emotional wreck. She's tired, mad at her body, and herself. She's irritable and uses me as her punching bag. But when we go to bed, things are good. Peyton's in my arms where she belongs.

Peyton comes out of the bathroom, her long hair in wet clumped sections after her shower. I beckon her to me and take the hairbrush from her. "Want me to brush your hair?" Her eyes well up with tears instantly. I've done this before and she hasn't cried, but ever since she started these damn shots, even if I stand next to her and brush my teeth at the same time she is, we've got tears.

Never mind walking into a store or near some baby shit. I know I will never fully comprehend how she feels about being a mother. Guys have it fucking easy. And if I could take away the agony and heartache she feels on a daily basis or each time pees on a stick and it's negative, I would do it in a heartbeat. There isn't anything I wouldn't do for her.

My wife sits on our bed with her back to me. I love having a height advantage over her, it's perfect for times like this. She can sit here, where she's comfortable and not on the floor or in a chair. When Katelyn or Elle do this with her or vice versa, they're always getting up on their tip toes or standing on a step stool to reach. It's cute and sometimes comical.

I missed my third calling as a beautician or whatever they're called these days. Brushing Peyton's hair has become like an art for me. I start at the bottom, work through the tangles, and then work my way up. I go slow, so I don't tug on her scalp. Doing this makes me want to have a daughter, and if we do, I hope she looks like her mother. She'd be one lucky little girl, that's for sure.

Regardless, we'll take whoever science graces us with. A boy or girl. I don't even care. I just want my wife to become a mother to our child. We just need one, even though I know she wants three or four. One to spoil rotten will be plenty.

"What do you think of Noah Jr.?"

"Who's that?" I realize after I ask that I'm literally the densest husband on the planet right now. I don't try to correct myself because Peyton has absolutely earned the right to make me look like the idiot I am.

"Oh gee, I don't know, Noah!"

"Yeah, yeah." I continue running the brush through her hair. "Honestly, babe. I'm not a fan."

"Really? I love your name."

"That's because you love my d."

"No, I'm pretty sure your dick isn't named Noah."

"Don't say naughty words out loud."

Peyton cracks up. "Why do you think the eggs can hear you? What are you going to do when there's a baby in there?"

"What do you mean?"

She turns and looks at me, as if I should know the answer. Maybe I do. Maybe I don't. "You are a dirty talker, Noah Westbury. I hope you know this about yourself."

Again, I say nothing.

"And yes, we will have sex when I'm pregnant."

"I don't want my thing poking the baby."

"Your thing?" Peyton laughs hard, and I love every second of it.

I nod.

"First of all, your ‘thing' won't reach."

"Are you saying I'm small?"

"Are you fishing for a compliment?"

I shrug.

Peyton takes her hairbrush and continues with her hair while facing me. "I can't believe we are even having this conversation right now. Why did you buy the condoms?"

"Uh, because we've been using them! Or am I too small for you now?"

I flinch before the hairbrush hits me. It's okay, I deserve it. When I start laughing, her mouth drops open. She tackles me. I let her. I can't win all our battles. She has to show her dominance over me. Besides, I love losing to her.

I hold her to me and slip my hand into her robe, my hand ghosting up her side until it cups her breast. She's complained about how tender they've been since she started the shots, so that's at the forefront of my mind. My other hand grabs hold of her ass, pulling her forward. I'm hard and she gasps when she rocks against me. My eyes meet her gaze as my tongue darts out, licking her nipple.

"Noah." I could come just by the way she says my name or the way she's palming my cock right now.

"I'll be fast," I tell her, knowing her uncle is on his way over. Maybe if he rings the bell and we don't answer right away, he'll take it as a clue. I doubt it though. He has a standing surf date with Quinn now.

Peyton maneuvers my joggers enough that my cock springs free. My lovely wife leans toward the nightstand and grabs a whole sleeve of condoms, ripping one off the pack. We have to be careful, especially now. It's never fun going from feeling your wife to having a barrier between you. Although, the clean-up is nice.

I switch to her other breast, paying it some equal attention while Peyton rolls the condom over my cock. She straddles me, taking all of me in.

"Fuck me, babe," I say it to mean, holy fucking shit this is hot, but she takes as me telling her to literally fuck me because my wife with her glorious fucking tits starts bouncing on my dick. Honestly, I'm feeling sort of left out of all this. I can't keep playing with her breasts and she's doing all the work. I did, however, promise her I'll be fast, and I intend to keep that promise.

"You're fucking sexy," I tell her as I let her tits slap me in the face. "God, I fucking love you."

She says nothing. It's probably time for me to shut up and do my part. I lean back slightly, giving myself a beautiful view of where we're connected. Just watching her take my dick inside of her should be enough to make me blow my load, but it's not. Mostly because I need her to come first. It's always been my rule with her.

"Lean back, baby."

She does, giving me the access I need. My thumb presses against her clit, soft and slow at first until Peyton sets the pace. The first quiver makes me smile.

"That's my girl." I'm mindful of what she said about talking dirty and filter all my words to G-rated things. Parenting is going to be tough.

"Noah . . ."

"Do you need me to finish you off?" She's on the cusp, but the orgasm she's hungry for is holding itself at bay.

"I . . . I . . ."

"I'm your man." I pull her to my chest, widen my legs and thrust into her until she's screaming my name and milking my cock in the process.

She stays on my chest, panting. The smell of sex, lust, and spermicide fill the air. It's a good thing Xander isn't coming into our bedroom. There's just something about a family member knowing you just got laid. It's not as cool as it might seem.

After Peyton rolls off me, I get up and hobble my way to the bathroom. Honestly, I should've taken my pants off, but this was a quickie with quickie type effort. Besides, I blame Peyton. She follows me and uses the toilet while I wash my hands. Ah, the joys of being married.

As soon as I leave the bathroom the doorbell rings. Perfect timing.

"Hey," I say as I open the door. Xander has his wetsuit suit on up to his waist. I'm tempted to go surfing with him and Quinn and say fuck it to the Pioneers for dragging their feet on my renewal. I took them to the Super Bowl and won. It's not my fault our team had so many injuries this past season that we didn't make it out of round one. I'm good, but I can't hike the ball to myself, run, pass, tackle, and kick the pigskin through the goal posts. Bud should've listened to me during preseason when I told him the kicker he just had to have, can't kick a decent twenty-yard field goal. If the guy can't kick twenty, he's no use to us.

"Good morning."

It is indeed a good morning. "Peyton will be out in a second. She's running a bit late this morning."

"No worries. Quinn always says he'll wait for me but doesn't."

I laugh and nod. "I think he missed his calling as a surfer. Had Harrison never moved him to Beaumont, he'd probably be a professional."

"Can you imagine?"

I pause and let the magnitude of what I said sink in. No, I can't imagine. Honestly, it's something I think about all the time. Where would I be if my dad hadn't come back? Would I be who I am today? Someone different like a doctor because of Nick? What if my uncle Mason doesn't die all those years ago?

"You okay?"

"Yeah," I say, shaking my head to clear the unmentionable thoughts from my mind. I can't think that way. Not now. Not ever.

"Morning, Xander," Peyton says as she comes into the hallway. For some odd reason we're still standing there, like Xander is about to start selling us encyclopedias.

"Morning. Ready to do this?"

Peyton nods and leads him into the guest bathroom. I go with them, waiting while he swabs a spot on her stomach, which will inevitably bruise in a few hours. I'll be happy when those go away. I try not to notice them, especially when we're having sex. They're enough to make me want to coddle her and beg her not to do this anymore. But I'll never ask her to stop trying for a baby. At least, not now.

She turns to me and puts her hands on my shoulders, her fingers already digging into my flesh. My lips are near her ear and when Xander nods, I start talking. "This morning, watching you ride my . . ."

"All done."

Peyton sighs. "I wish my mom could do this as easily as you," she says to Xander.

"She has more at stake. Plus, she's your mother and you're her baby. Add in everything you've been through, she's overprotective and probably stressed. If I had to guess, she's probably afraid she's going to hurt you."

"Well, she does," Peyton says as we walk Xander to the door. "But I only have a few more left, so whatever."

"I could always give them to you," I tell her, but she shakes her head.

"You holding me is what gets me through these."

Xander tells us we'll see him tomorrow. Once the door closes, I pull Peyton into my arms. "What do you want to do today?"

"I don't know, but it seems like you want to have sex."

I scoff and then nod my head like a kid heading to the candy store. "What on earth give you that idea?"

Peyton rolls her eyes. "Everything this morning has been about your . . ." She looks down at my crotch. If he could blush, he'd blush right now.

"You wound my ego."

"Suuuure, I do. Anyway, I think we should sit down and look at some of the offers Alan has sent over, map out a plan and see where we want to go."

Sex sounds much better. "Babe, I'm not going anywhere if you're still in Portland."

"I know, but maybe I'm not staying in Portland if you're not there."

"Are you saying you'd quit?"

Peyton takes my hand and drags me to our home office. "I'm saying that maybe after the baby is born, whenever that may be, I dabble in sideline reporting. It's what I wanted to do and what I went to school for."

"Ah, you just want to interview me after the game."

"Noah, not everything is about you."

I waggle my eyebrows at her. "You're right." I pull her to me and place my hand on her stomach where our baby will grow someday. "It's about this."