Page 33 of For Her

Thirteen

32 Weeks

Jack

“Ohhhhh, yes. Oh my god, Jack, that feels so good. Mmmm, yeah. Right there.”

That’s right. I’ve got Mayzie bent over our kitchen counter and I’m giving it to her good and hard. She’s loving every minute of it too.

“Oh God, don’t stop,” she moans. “Harder…”

“Don’t worry Baby, I can do this all day,” I assure her. I’m not even breaking a sweat.

“No you can’t, you’d strain your arm at some point. Then you wouldn’t be able to play.”

Okay time to explain. I’m grinding the heel of my hand into Mayzie’s lower back. Apparently, hauling our baby boy around in front of her twenty-four-seven is making it sore.

“Quit worrying about me fuckin’ playin’,” I admonish her as I dig in deeper.

“Ooh, lower… down by my tailbone. Ooh, God that’s good, that’s perfect!”

The orgasmic noises coming out of her paired with the cut-off jean shorts she’s wearing, not to mention the position she’s in, are making my cock harden like cement, making me want to yank them down and take her right here. But I’m hell bent on giving her what she wants and needs right now, so I mentally put some ice on it.

“Really, you don’t need to keep doing this, Baby,” she moans into her arms, not sounding like she means it one bit.

“Of course I do.”

“No, Jack. You’ve got practice later. Your hand’s going to be no good if your arm is cramping up.”

“Oh my God, Mayzie, enough,” I say gruffly as I drop my arm and take a step back so I can address her seriously. She straightens up and lets me bring it. “Enough of you worrying about the band, the music, the guys, or me playing!” I’m waving my arm around to emphasize my irritation. “Enough staying home at the start of every tour because ofthe band. You’ve put yourself in a dangerous situation to helpthe band. You’re always putting the fricken band first when it should always be you, let alone a time you’re carrying my child. If there’s ever a time to put yourself first, it’s now.”

By now, she’s placed a hand on her hip, the universal female sign that says you’re in trouble, but I’m on a roll and I keep going.

“This isyourtime! You’re my fucking queen and I swear to God if you don’t take this time to forget about the damn band and let me put you first, I will fucking quit!”

Shit.I know she didn’t like that. Maze and I have had it out, but I normally make it a point not to raise my voice to her and I’m already regretting it. And quite frankly, the silent glare she’s giving me is scaring the shit out of me, but my pride won’t let me show it.

“You want me to put myself first?”

“Yes.”

“Be selfish? Really? You sure about that?”

“Oh I’m sure, Sweetheart. Enough of this putting me, the band, my music, my career ahead of yourself. Tell me what you want!” I give her a no-bullshit smile.

“Fine!” she booms, making a tiny voice at the far corner of my brain feebly suggest I might not know what I’m getting into here.

“Cancel today’s practice,” she orders.

“You got it,” I say, keeping my back straight because I feel a face-off coming on, but it turns out there’s no need. She gets on a roll of her own.

“I want you to get in your truck and go get some hot wings from Jimmy’s.”

That’s it? Easy. Hell, I could go for some of those too.

“Then, when you come back, I want you to give me at least two orgasms because I’m hornier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

Yes! That’s what I’m talking about!

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