Page 51 of The Right Stuff

We’re about an hour into the party when Pops takes the stage. Tru thinks he’s going to give a toast, but when Jake Stone and the rest of Ironwing go up on stage with him, she looks at me with confusion clouding her gaze.

I take her hand and lead her to the dance floor. Pops holds up his glass and gets the mic. “The day Gertrude Stanhope walked into this bar was one of the happiest days of my life. You might wonder why—I mean, she was here to take my son’s bar away from him.” Everyone chuckles. “But I knew as soon as I saw her. I got to witness the moment my son fell in love. I’ve never been prouder of my boy than when he learned how to give his heart away. Tru brought a lot to us when she came to Brazen Bay—my own wife,” he waves to Pauline, “anearlyprofitable bar for my son, friendship to so many, and she reminded a few old guys that their glory days don’t need to be behind them.”

“What is he talking about?” she asks me quietly.

“Just listen.”

Someone brings up some instruments and my dad continues talking. “We’re not quite ready for a reunion tour, but we’ve been practicing something special for you, Tru.”

She brings her fingers to her lips and her eyes well up with tears when they play an acoustic version of their one-hit wonder, “Bold.” When the chorus starts, the whole bar starts singing along, like they always do. The moment is so damn sweet I need a filling, but I squeeze my girl and sing along. It’s the most ridiculous song in the whole world. But it’s ours. This song, this band, this bar, this town, these people.

Leo and Dixie come around with trays of sparkling wine and we endure toast after toast. After the fourth one, I notice Tru’s glass is still full.

“Why aren’t you drinking your wine? Do you have a headache?”

She shakes her head and lifts her glass when Stella finishes a long rambling ode to our dogs, who we put in the office so no one would give them cake. People always try to give them cake when they start drinking.

Tru pretends to sip from her glass. “No, I’m fine. Just don’t feel like drinking.”

I take her glass from her hand and down it quickly, suddenly parched. I can’t think, can’t clear my mind. My heart clenches and my pulse is pounding and I look at her, really look at her. She really is glowing. It’s not the makeup, it’s not the lighting. I pull her into me for a crushing hug. “You’re pregnant?” I say, my voice raw and my throat too thick.

She nods and her crunchy hair scratches my eyeball, but I don’t even care. Holy shit. She’s pregnant.

“Everybody out,” I holler. “She’s having my baby.”

Of course that means more toasts and hugs, and fuck me, will these people go home already? I need to be alone with her. I need to be inside of her.

Why did we rent the old apartment when we moved? I mean our new house is great, but come on, we could be in bed in two minutes if we still lived above the bar. Instead, I have to endure another hour of our friends, a ten-minute drive, and who made the sidewalk to my front door so long?

We’re finally in the damn door. “Please don’t break my hair,” is all she says when she sees the look in my eyes, then she’s whimpering because I’ve already pulled her dress and bra down to get my mouth on her round, juicy breasts. She goes boneless, so I scoop her up and bring her to the big chair. She’s on my lap, squirming, grinding against my hard cock. The hem of her dress bunches easily in my hand while she works on my zipper, freeing me.

Not going to lie, she looks pretty slutty all made up with her dress around her middle, her luscious tits swaying as she moves her hips seductively. I still her hips so I can move her panties to the side and position my cock right where we both want it. Need it. I tease her with it, rubbing myself where she’s so wet, so ready for me.

When I slide home, her back arches, thrusting her chest out. I take a nipple in my mouth and suck hard, but hold perfectly still below the waist until she starts panting and trying to move, trying to fuck me if I won’t fuck her.

“Patience.”

She rests her forehead against mine. “Please, Nash.”

“I want to make it last, Gertrude.”

“Oh, really?” she asks, squeezing her inner muscles until my cock twitches involuntarily. “You want to take your time?”

I grunt roughly, the sweat pooling at my temples. I’m on the edge of a mind-blowing climax already. I can’t get close enough, can’t get enough of her in my arms, my hands. I kiss her, stroking my tongue against hers, wanting to be inside her any way I can. My entire body is thrumming for action.

“I must be more turned on than you, I guess,” she says when she comes up for air, biting my lower lip. “Because knowing you knocked me up has made me so horny, Nash. You put ababyin me.”

I can’t stop the groan that barrels out of me, but I squeeze her hips to hold her still. “Jesus, why is that so hot?”

She can’t move the way she wants, so she brings her hand to my chest and pinches my nipple hard enough that I see stars and suck in a harsh breath, letting go of her hips and finding her hands, lacing our fingers together. “You play dirty.”

“I’m a dirty, dirty girl.” She rocks her hips and I meet her with a jolting thrust. “Again, do that again.”

Over and over, I pump into her. I lose my vision at some point. My hearing too. All I know is the dark, pulsing rhythm that surrounds us from the inside out. She’s everything I never wanted. And more.

She’s writhing now, reaching for that peak, and when her inner walls start convulsing around me, we shatter at the same time.

I’m not shackled. Not caged. But I used to be. I used to live in a world where I thought I had to keep my heart under lock and key.

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