Page 24 of Sex & Cigarettes

Though Rebel, his father and the other Black Rebel Riders’ MC members who were here all left out yesterday. Coralie and Axel are leaving right after the celebration of life Stephanie helped Goldie put together in Teagan’s honor.

“Babe, you about ready?” my husband calls, tapping his fist on the bathroom door.

I may be slightly selfish and take my sweet ass time any second I get to go to the bathroom alone and not have to worry about Smith. I love him more than life, but he’s got his father’s possessive nature. It seems like if I get out of sight, he starts throwing a tantrum.

“Give me five more minutes.” I run my fingers through my hair, scrunching at the roots to give it more volume. I do one more swipe of deodorant under each pit and give myself a once over in the mirror. This is the first time I’ve left the house since I checked out of the hospital. I’ve been living in my pjs and not wearing a stitch of makeup. I want to look good for Abel. I don’t want to be one of those women who stop taking care of herself because she’s a mom.

Smoothing a hand down my black flowy skirt, I think I’m ready. I open the bathroom door just as Abel is about to knock again. “Fuck, my wife looks good. Better than good.” He steps into my space crowding me in the doorway.

“Don’t mess up my makeup,” I warn, holding up a hand.

He links his fingers with mine, giving me his sexy alpha look. The one that says I own you, submit to me. My knees grow weak, and I lean into him. “Can’t make any promises.”

I lick my lips. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Abel’s gaze is on my mouth when he says, “What’s that?”

“If you don’t fuck up my makeup, I’ll blow you later.”

“You’re trying to torture my dick, aren’t you?”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because I can’t fuck you with my cock, fingers, or tongue for another five weeks and now you’re over here teasing about sucking me off.”

Shit. He’s keeping track. “You know I was talking to some of the women in my new mommy group online, and they said I could have sex at four weeks.”

“That’s not helping.” He grabs my hand and puts it on his erection.

“Is the baby still napping?”

He nods.

“Drop your pants.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m sure. We’ll blame our tardiness on Smith.”

Abel leads me back toward our bed where he grabs a pillow before sitting in the chair by our dresser. The pillow is plopped onto the floor. I go to my knees, resting them on the pillow like it’s a cushion. My man undoes his button and then his zipper. The bulbous, thick, head of his cock stares me in the face. I lick my lips then suck the tip between them. I read somewhere that the head is the most sensitive part of a man’s anatomy. I don’t know if it’s true, but I’m about to test the theory.

My man grips my hair, giving me a gentle but also authoritative tug. I pause to stare up at him and his teeth sink into his bottom lip. The sight is sexy as hell. There is one thing in this life I will never doubt and that is that he’s my man. I swirl my tongue around the tip, taunting him.

“Fuck, wife o’ mine. Don’t stop,” he growls.

Warmth flows through me but my hormones are still out of whack from my pregnancy. This isn’t about me though. It’s about Abel. My husband fucks my mouth, and I swallow his release like a good girl.

Coralie

Ainsley pulls a strand of my newly dyed black hair. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Does it look terrible? Goldie dyed it for me last night.

“Not at all. It suits you.”

“Thanks.”

“So you’re really doing this?”

---