This Is Me, Baby (War & Peace #5) Page 19

  “He wants us to come see the baby, but I told him you weren’t up to it,” she says softly, her back to me.

  “We can go if you wan—”

  She cuts me off with a wave of a hand. “I’ll see him when Daddy brings him by one day. I’d rather not spend one second with your sister.”

  The feeling is mutual.

  “How are Duvan and Alejandra today?” I question.

  She turns and beams at me. Then, she rubs her stomach before dropping to the floor in front of me. Her head rests on my uninjured thigh. I stroke her hair as she lets out a contented sigh. “They’re good. I think I’m finally getting cravings.”

  I chuckle but it makes my abdomen ache. Despite the many stab wounds Camilo inflicted, most were superficial. The one that tore a hole in my spleen was the worrisome one, which took hours to repair. Thankfully, the surgeons were excellent ones. “What sort of cravings?”

  She groans and looks up at me, embarrassment tinting her cheeks. “Gross things. Like crab from that seaside restaurant I met up with Diego at.” I grit my teeth but swallow back a growl. Despite my hating that prick, in the end, he did save our lives. If he protects my woman and our babies, I’ll tolerate him.

  “Crab is good,” I say with a smile.

  She shrugs. “And tacos but with ranch dressing instead of sour cream.”

  At this, I shake my head. “Okay, that is gross. Anything else?”

  “Cherry pie filling. Like the kind out of the can.” She makes a grumble of annoyance. “It sounds so good right now. Who eats that stuff straight out of the can? It’s all I can think about.”

  I run my fingers through her silky hair and wink. “Help me out of this chair and I’ll go with you right now. We’ll buy twenty cans if that makes you happy.”

  She stands and shakes her head. “I don’t think so, buddy. You’re not fit to grocery shop. I’ll call Calder. He’ll go with me.”

  “And leave me here all alone with Luciana? Why do you insist upon her babysitting me, anyway? Our conversations are always one-sided.” When she scoffs, I continue. “Because all she does is drone on and on about how much Calder looks like “The Beebs.” I throw up in my mouth at least ten times during every conversation we have.” And it’s true. Luciana’s fingers fly across her phone as she writes out twenty different ways to tell me how hot she thinks my brother is.

  Brie laughs and clutches my hands. I wince but we finally get me to my feet. I take her cheeks, which have finally started to round out now that she’s able to keep food down, and grin at her.

  “When did the doctor say I could have sex again?” I tease and steal a kiss.

  She rolls her eyes. “Six weeks. You’re not even close, buddy. No funny business.”

  I draw her closer to me, careful not to press her against my sore flesh. My cock, though, has a different plan and pokes at her belly. “You’re going to deny an injured man?”

  Her palm rubs against my erection and she looks up at me with a salacious stare. “I said we weren’t going to have sex.” Then she smirks and it’s devious and goddamned beautiful. “I never said anything about blow jobs.”

  Before I can process her words, she’s on her knees and gently tugging down my shorts and boxers.

  “Did I ever tell you how much I love y—” My words die in my throat the moment her mouth wraps around my neglected cock. “Jesus Christ, woman, you’re so fucking good at that.” I grip her hair as she takes me deep, careful not to gag.

  The woman pulls out every trick in the book until I’m murmuring her beautiful name over and over again in a chant.

  She sucks me dry, and I hiss in pain the moment my stomach clenches with my release. The moment she pops off my cock and looks up at me with my seed running down her chin and a happy smile on her face, I know right then…

  No matter what storms come our way, we’ll endure them.

  Together.

  Because our love is strong and unflappable.

  Love destroys demons and obliterates broken pasts.

  Love is ours—finally—and we fucking earned it.

  Two months later…

  HIS MOUTH IS ON my swollen tit and he’s driving me crazy by sucking on the flesh everywhere except my needy nipple. My state of duress has the babies rolling around like wild in my stomach.

  “Staaaahp,” I complain in the darkness.

  He pulls away and soon the light from the lamp floods the room. His dark brows are pulled together in concern. “Is everything okay? Are my little cubs okay in there?” His large hands splay over my big round belly. The babies respond to his touch and roll around some more. A look of pure joy passes over his features.

  “They’re fine,” I assure him with a smile.

  My hands cover his and I stare at him as he watches my stomach.

  “I still can’t get over how weird this feels. To touch them. I mean, I felt Mason in my mom’s stomach, but this is different. They’re…” he trails off as if he doesn’t want to say anything to hurt me.

  “They’re yours?” I finish.

  His steely blue eyes dart to mine, and the heat in them nearly scorches me. “Ours.”

  I nod and clutch his hand. He starts talking to the babies, but I’m distracted by his bare torso. Three months ago, he was toned and flawless. Since he can’t work out much yet, his defined lines aren’t as prominent. It’s his scars that haunt me, though. One day they’ll fade to silvery white but right now they’re still puffy and dark pink. A daily reminder that he almost died. When I sniffle, he curls up beside me and pulls me into his strong arms.

  “What’s wrong, beautiful?”

  I swallow down my emotion. “Nothing. I just think about how I almost lost you from time to time, and it upsets me.”

  He sits up on one elbow and frowns at me. My gaze falls to the red scar across his neck. That one affects me the most. That one I see whether he’s dressed or not. That one reminds me that he was lucky when Mom and Duvan were not. I reach up and tenderly stroke the pink flesh.

  Understanding washes over him and he gently plucks my hand away. He pins it on the bed and a low growl rumbles from him.

  “I’m not going to wither away,” he tells me, his gaze fierce. If I had any doubts that he isn’t as strong as he once was, they get squashed under that tough look he’s giving me. His grip is firm and unmovable as he holds my wrist against the bed. “Now tell me how you want to be fucked, little momma.”

  I laugh and spread my legs. “Just like this. So I can see you.”

  His brow arches as he makes a point to stare at my big belly. “And how exactly do you think we’ll manage?”

  Sticking out my tongue, I grab my pillow and swat it at him. “Put this under my ass,” I instruct in a bossy tone. “Then fuck me from your knees where I can watch.”

  An evil smirk quirks up his features. “My bossy girl is so dirty. I love it.” He folds the pillow in half and slips it beneath me. Then, he slides a leg over each of his broad shoulders. His cock is thick and heavy as it rests against my bare pussy. From this vantage point, I can see all of his scars. It sickens me yet it reminds me that he’s made it through alive.

  “Fuck me, Daddy,” I tease.

  He laughs and gives my clit a tiny pinch that has me shuddering with need. “You’re a bad girl.”

  I bite on my bottom lip and that steals his smile. Pure, starved need paints his handsome features as he grabs my hips and then slides into my very wet opening. I let out a ragged sound of bliss as he bucks into me slowly.

  “Camilo said I had a magical cunt. Does it feel different to you?” I question, suddenly overwhelmed with need to know what makes me so special.

  Ren rolls his eyes at me. “Are you seriously wanting to discuss this with my cock nine inches deep inside you?”

  I let out a gasp when he gives my clit a little slap. It sends ripples of pleasure surging through me. “Just tell me.”

  He shakes his head as he thrusts into me hard. “It’s not your pussy that ma
kes you so special. I mean”—he flashes me a wolfish grin—“I love it. Don’t get me wrong. But to me, it’s your…”

  His cock slides out of me and then he rolls me over onto my side. “On your knees, beautiful,” he barks out. I get on my elbows and knees and wriggle my ass at him. He enters me hard enough to make me cry out. Then he slaps my ass.

  “Oh, God,” I moan and push back against him, meeting him thrust for thrust.

  “Baby, this ass is what grown men turn fucking stupid over. It’s perfect.” Thrust. Slap. Another moan from me. “And it’s mine.”

  “I’ll be back in a bit,” he murmurs, kissing my cheek before turning out the light. “Rest and then I’ll feed you and those babies some ranch tacos.”

  I’m smiling even as I hear the front door slam shut and his truck drive away. Ren is the only man I know that doesn’t even seem bothered to have to go hunt his woman some tacos down at midnight. My tummy grumbles. God, I really do love him.

  After our wild fuck session, I’m tired despite my hunger. I find myself drifting in and out. When I hear the bedroom door creak open, I smile. Rolling over, I seek out my man.

  “Were you able to get any?” I question.

  But when he emerges from the shadows, and a sliver of moonlight from the window reveals his face, I’m frozen. A million emotions filter through me all at once.

  “Looking stunning all naked, mi amor,” he murmurs.

  I blink in confusion. This is real. This isn’t a dream.

  “W-What are you doing here?” I stammer.

  A low growl rumbles from him as he takes another step toward the bed. In an effort to hide, I drag the sheet up my naked flesh.

  “Are you pregnant with my child?”

  Emotion clogs my throat and no words come out. I don’t understand.

  “Duvan?”

  “OH, SOURPUSS,” HE UTTERS softly. “Don’t I wish I could give my brother back to you, but he’s gone. Oscar gave me an urn with his ashes. Duvan is dead.”

  Bile rises in my throat as I fretfully look around for a weapon, shaking off the vision of my dead husband. Esteban isn’t the cocky manipulator he once was. In fact, he appears ragged and not at all put together. His hair is messy and he’s sporting some scruff. It’s as though he’s been hiding under some rock until now. “You need to leave, Esteban.” No longer do I get a surge of need whenever I see him. Terror and helplessness and despair are what consume me. My hand clutches my belly in a subconscious desire to protect my children.

  He stalks forward and then pounces. Like the black panther I always equated him to. This tigress isn’t and never was a worthy adversary. I cry out as he pushes my wrists together and pins them above my head. His heavy body straddles my waist. A sob escapes me when he runs his large palm over my breast to my stomach. The babies roll in response.

  His lips curl into a proud grin but I don’t miss the possessive gleam in his eyes. “Is. This. Baby. Mine?” Then, his voice drops as he reaches for my face. “We fucked countless times, sourpuss.” As if I need the reminder.

  I spit at him. “Fuck you! Get out of my house!”

  His brows crash together as hurt flashes in his eyes. “Is this baby mine?” he demands, irritation lacing his tone. “Your stomach is so big. You’re further along, which means it’s mine.”

  “Babies. They’re your brother’s babies. The doctor confirmed when I conceived.”

  Dark eyes widen in surprise. Then, a fleeting look of anger. “I’ve come for you.”

  I’m already shaking my head. “I’m not going anywhere with you! Leave, Esteban!”

  He growls before reaching back and slapping my face. Not hard, but enough to have me dazed. “She’s so lonely. I’m bringing you so she has someone to entertain her.”

  Her?

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I argue, my voice becoming weaker by the second. But I do. Deep down, I do. And it sickens me.

  “That would hurt little Red’s feelings,” he chides. “It’s a shame how easily she was forgotten by her best friend.”

  Ice runs cold through my veins. I gave up months ago assuming one of Camilo or Diego’s men or even Esteban had killed Vee.

  “Y-You have Vee?” I stammer out in surprise.

  His smile is tender and it confuses me. “I do. She is mine now.”

  I buck underneath him, but he’s too strong. “Let me go! Tell me where she is, you fucking asshole!” I rage at him.

  “I’ll do better. I’ll take you to her, sourpuss,” he assures me with a cold grin.

  I hear a sound behind him and then see the gleam of the baseball bat I keep behind the bedroom door.

  “The hell you will,” Ren roars a second before I hear the crack of the bat.

  Esteban howls and rolls away from me. Ren pounces without hesitation, swinging that bat like he’s trying to nail a homerun right out of the park. The cracking of Esteban’s ribs is loud, and it makes me gag.

  “Ren! Stop!” I screech and scramble to put myself between him and Esteban. But I’m too late. Ren swings another hard blow that hits Esteban right in the back of the head. The sickening pop actually does make me ill. I burst off the bed and rush into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet in time to expel my guts. The bat clatters to the tile floor as Ren drops behind me, his hands flitting all over me checking for injuries.

  “Is he dead?” I question through my tears.

  He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

  “Good!” I shriek. When he glowers at me, I quickly continue. “He knows where Vee is!”

  Understanding washes over him. And then relief. “Call 911.”

  As soon as the call is made and help is on the way, I make my way back into the bedroom. Seeing Esteban bloody and helpless and unconscious causes my chest to tighten. It feels right. Like he deserves it and so much more. Full fucking circle. Not long ago, it was him staring over me, wielding all the power. I was his victim.

  Not anymore.

  Three days later…

  “Sit down, woman,” Ren orders and points his paintbrush at me.

  I pout but do as I’m told. He looks hot as ever in a pair of holey jeans that hang low on his hips, revealing just a tiny view of his ass crack. Since he’s painting, he’s not wearing a shirt, and his entire tattooed back is on display for my visual pleasure. The entire thing is covered in his intricate tree. His tiger and cubs have long been filled in. It’s beautiful and I love it.

  With a smile, I rub my belly. “Are you sure you can paint those stripes? I think this looks harder than the YouTube video tutorial.”

  He looks over his shoulder and gives me a smoldering look. “Keep mouthing off and I’ll have to keep that pretty mouth busy so I can paint in peace.”

  Laughing, I shoot him the bird. “Real funny.”

  We’re quiet again as he paints. Ren truly is beautiful both inside and out. Sometimes I worry I don’t tell him that enough.

  “I love you,” I blurt out.

  He gives me a lopsided grin over his shoulder that has my heart thumping in my chest. “I love you too.”

  When he goes back to painting, I have the urge to say more. “I know I don’t tell you enough but you mean the world to me. You were always there for me. Nobody has been there every step of the way like you have.” My chin wobbles.

  He sets his brush down and struts over to me. I find myself ogling this sexy-ass man who I can proudly call mine. His fingers grip my jaw, and he tilts my head up so he can kiss me. It’s brief and sweet, but it knocks me over with his love. With Ren, I feel it rippling from him at all times. With Ren, I never feel his love waver.

  “Thank you,” I murmur against his warm lips.

  He pulls away and something like pride shines in his eyes as he regards me. “Loving you is easy, Brie. Nothing about it ever feels like a chore. It’s a gift. So thank you for my gift.” He winks at me before making his way over to his project.

  My mind is on thoughts of our future. One whe
re Ren is my husband and these kids call him Daddy. Thoughts of us going to T-ball games together, dinners and holidays with his wonderful family, late nights where he and I worship each other’s bodies, family pictures and school plays. Normalcy. The American dream.

  Love.

  Ours.

  My phone starts to ring and I see it’s Daddy calling. He probably wants to drop by and visit. I refuse to admit it to anyone but I’m in love with my new little brother. It gives me a sneak peek of what it will be like to have my own babies. Sometimes, I hold baby Land for hours and inhale his sweet scent. Daddy is smart enough to leave the psycho with her parents when he brings my siblings by.

  “Hey,” I answer as my eyes drag back over to Ren. He’s been able to work out a little more here and there. Painting will probably leave him tired, but he’s insistent. I admire his back muscles while Daddy hisses on the other line. It takes me a second to pull my attention back to my phone call. “Wait? What? Say that again,” I demand.

  “Esteban escaped from the hospital,” he snarls. “Tell Ren to put a bullet through anyone’s skull who tries to come into your house.”

  Ren, sensing my distress, is already stalking over to me, wearing an alarmed expression.

  “But he hasn’t told them where Vee is yet,” I mutter. “He can’t escape. We have to find her.”

  Daddy grumbles on the line. “I’m sorry about your friend, but that’s the least of my worries right now. My worry is your safety. I’ll be over in fifteen minutes. Call your fuckface friend, who still has a death sentence.”

  When he hangs up, I stare up at Ren.

  “What is it?” he demands and falls to his knees in front of me. He takes my hand and kisses the top of it. Fierce love and protectiveness shine in his gaze.

  “Esteban escaped.” I blink in shock. Then, I dial my “fuckface friend who still has a death sentence.” I will not let my dreams and future with Ren be compromised by a madman.