I'm Only Here for the Beard (The Dixie Wardens Rejects MC #4)(79)

"Jesus Christ, Nay," I groaned.

The woman was a fucking nympho. Always wanting me-my finger and my cock-and I wasn't inclined to think it was a bad thing, either.

Not when she practically sucked my soul out of my cock every time she did this.

It only took four strokes of her hot little mouth before I was pulling her off.

"On your knees," I ordered.

The doorbell rang, but I didn't bother stopping. Not when my woman needed me.

Naomi scrambled to her knees and wiggled her ass, inviting me to take her hard and fast.

That was one thing I didn't oblige her with all the time. Though she may want hard and fast, I wanted slow and sensual.

And that's exactly what I gave her.

***

An hour later, I was sitting on the arm of the couch, listening to my club bullshit about missing wedding rings.

"What do you mean you can't find it?" Fender asked in confusion. "You left it right the fuck there. Your woman's going to fucking kill you."

Laughing at the interaction between the men, I clapped Jessie on the shoulder and said, "You'll never win. Just let it be."

He winked at me, clearly baiting Fender with his words, and cocked his beer in Fender's direction. "Fuck off."

I grinned all the way up the stairs, halting when I saw Naomi sneaking the door of Molly's room quietly closed.

"She pee?"

Naomi's laughing eyes came to me.

"She decided to sleep on the floor with a single blanket than risk her precious daddy getting mad at her again," Naomi pushed the door open for me to see.



       
         
       
        

I started chuckling.

Our daughter was potty trained … mostly. The only time she wasn't was at night when she had something to drink about two hours prior to bedtime.

And since I couldn't fucking resist my girl's pouty lip, I nearly always gave her the drink despite knowing someone would be doing a shit ton of laundry the next morning.

"That's you coming out in her," I said to my wife, pulling her into the curve of my arm.

***

Sean

Ten minutes later, we were standing in the kitchen, and I was again reminded of how much I loved my wife.

"Are you going to eat that cookie?"

I gave Naomi one long look.

"Yes," I said teasingly, knowing what she wanted. "Why?"

She looked at the cookie longingly, then pursed her lips. "Well, it's just that you let it sit there for over an hour, and I think that if you really wanted it, you'd have eaten it already."

I grinned.

"Is that right?"

She narrowed her eyes.

"Now is not the time to fuck with me."

"Pregnant girls get hangry," Imogen said as she fell backwards on the couch, a plate of chips and dip balancing precariously on the top of her swollen belly. "You should just let her have the cookie. If you had wanted it, you would've eaten it the moment she walked in the door with them."

I didn't mention the fact that I'd been kept busy since she'd walked into the door with them.

"You can have my cookie," I told her, knowing I wasn't going to win this one.

Naomi's eyes lit.

"Thank God."

I chuckled as she immediately got up, snatched the cookie box, and proceeded to shove the entire thing into her mouth in less than four bites.

I refrained from whimpering.

It really had sounded good.

"Good, baby?"

"Of course it was good, Son." Dad butted in. "Or she wouldn't be making orgasmic sounds in front of your whole club."

"Your father's right," Naomi said around a mouthful of cookie. "It's really good."

I caught Naomi's hand and pulled her into my lap, licking off a stray drop of chocolate that fell into the crease of her mouth.

"Pretty fucking good," I agreed.

She offered me her finger next, and I sucked it into my mouth.

Her eyes dilated, and I threw my head back and laughed.

"Insatiable."

"Only for you," I growled. 

"Get a room!" Came from not one, but five of the people in the room.

That was my club. Always Debbie Downers.

"Oh, my God!" Truth came slamming out of the bathroom. "That shitter stool is the best thing since sliced bread!"

"What's a shitter stool?" Verity questioned her husband.

I groaned and covered my eyes, embarrassment tinging my cheeks with a flush of color.

"The 'shitter stool' is more appropriately named the 'squatty potty' and Sean can't poop without it."

I got up and left, grabbing myself a beer.

I couldn't keep the smile off of my face, though.

The woman might get on every single nerve I had, and eat my last goddamned cookie, but I loved the absolute shit out of her.