So that led me back to now, after two amazing orgasms, but unfortunately no labor.
“Fuck,” I muttered after coming down from my wave of pleasure.
“Not the response I’m used to getting, babe,” Cade remarked dryly from where he sat behind me. My back was resting against his chest and he was sitting up slightly against the headboard, his arms around my belly. It was the only comfortable and humanly possible cuddle position, thanks to the fact my belly that should have its own sun.
“You know full well that was great,” I huffed. “But I thought in addition to an orgasm, I might also get a baby out of me.”
Cade’s chest vibrated as he laughed, hands caressing my stomach. “She’ll come out when she’s ready. I bet she’s just stubborn, like her mother.”
I rolled my eyes. Cade hadn’t always been so breezy about our child’s lack of eagerness to leave the womb. He had actually been worried out of his mind the day after the due date, dragging me to the doctors demanding to know if the baby was okay.
After some reassurance, he had calmed down. Although, I thought he might’ve attempted to bring an ultrasound machine with him if he could’ve hidden one under his cut.
Our post sex cuddling was cut short when Cade and the guys had to go check on some security thing, he did tell me what it was, but I was currently neck deep in self-pity, so I didn’t listen.
It was too hot to be this pregnant!
Cade had commanded me to either stay at the clubhouse with the remainder of guys left behind or have someone drive me if I was going to go anywhere. Since I was bound to pop at any given moment, Cade wouldn’t let me be alone. Considering the fact that my girth couldn’t fit behind a wheel anyway, I didn’t have much choice.
A couple of hours later, after making Bull take me to get five ice creams, I was happily sucking away at number three while watching my boxed set of the Walking Dead on the club’s huge flat screen. I was hoping one of the frights I had been getting would shock the child out.
“That would never fucking happen, you can’t get a head shot from that far away,” Bull growled from beside me.
“You’re seriously questioning the realism behind a program that is based on flesh eating zombies?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
I could tell he was about to prepare a retort when his phone buzzed.
“Got it,” he bit after answering. He stood, strapping on his on gun.
“Gotta go, sugar.” He kissed my head then moved his eyes behind me.
“Steg, you good to stay here with Gwen until the boys get back?”
“Sure.” Steg came into my line of sight, a warm smile looking weird on his harsh face. I hadn’t even realized he was here. I had assumed as the club president he would be heading whatever security mission they were on.
“Gwen, try not to give birth while we’re gone,” Bull joked before heading for the door.
I flipped the bird to his retreating figure. But really I was just happy that this new Bull could even joke. Something had changed in him since I’d gotten back. He spoke more, spent more time with the guys instead of sitting alone with a bottle of Jack. He hadn’t quite progressed to laughing, but I could handle the dry jokes and occasional smiles if it meant he was getting better.
The sound of his bike roaring off alerted me to the fact that it was just Steg and me left. That would’ve left me quaking in my Choo’s normally, but since I was wearing flats and starting to feel differently about the gruff club president, I wasn’t set to have a panic attack. Didn’t mean I wasn’t slightly intimidated.
“Walking Dead, huh? Darryl can sure shoot the shit out of a crossbow,” he remarked to my surprise, sitting on the sofa next to me.
I stared at him in disbelief until he shrugged.
“Evie loves this shit.”
I smiled and relaxed, turning my head back to the blood and gore.
I jerked awake to the sound of a door slamming. I sat up, disorientated. The TV was still going, so I mustn’t have been out that long. I looked to the empty sofa beside me and guessed Steg had had enough of zombie shows. I stood slowly, stretching my uncomfortable body.
“Can’t you please just decide to come on out, Bun? Mummy is dying to get you into a little Burberry dress.” I tried bribery, guessing my daughter might just leave the womb for Burberry if she was anything like her mum.
“Wouldn’t count on that baby or you wearing anything apart from a bullet, bitch,” a voice snarled from behind me.
I jumped to see a man with a gun pointed at me standing in the doorway. I cradled my hands over my stomach protectively, fear like ice running through my veins.
“What do you want?” I asked him evenly, intent on getting myself and my baby out of this unharmed.
“Don’t remember me, Gwen?” The man spat out my name.
I searched his face, something about him familiar, then it dawned on me.
“Taylor? You’re—”
“I was meant to be a Templar, thanks to you I’m fucking no one,” he snarled, taking another step toward me.
I took in his greasy hair, and steel blue eyes, remembering the sleaze ball that was “protecting me” the day I got kidnapped. I noticed a scar running from his temple to his chin, marring his features.
“You noticed my new look, did you?” he asked. “That’s courtesy of your Old Man, my punishment for letting his bitch get pinched.” His voice was full of spite.
My eyes darted around, where was Steg? I knew he would never be too far away. He wouldn’t leave me, would he?
“You don’t want to do this, Taylor.” I tried to speak calmly, to reason with him. No matter what, I had to protect my child, and I was going to.
He bit out a bitter laugh. “Oh, but I do, Gwen. No other club would touch me after Templar’s kicked me to the curb. Not even the fucking competition. They all think I’m useless.” He was almost yelling now, spittle flying from his mouth. “I have a feeling once I deliver the body of the Old Lady and kid of the famous Fletcher, I’ll be getting offers all over the fucking country.”
Okay, so this guy is insane. I could hardly move, my body shaking from fear, watching him move closer with that gun pointed at me. I took a small step back, now he had rounded the couch, I wanted to put something between us.
His eyes flared, and he shook the gun at me. “Don’t move, bitch!” he screamed.
Then it all happened in a blur. Steg jumped over the couch, tackling Taylor.
“Get the fuck out of here! Now, Gwen!” he roared, wrestling with the man.
I started for the door, wrestling my need to help, but knowing I had to look after my baby. I heard a grunt, then an unmistakable sound of a body hitting the floor. I turned, dreading to see the one getting up. To my relief, Steg pushed himself off the floor, he shoved Taylor’s gun down his jeans then bolted to me in concern.
“Is he dead?” I asked, my voice calm.
“Nope, just knocked out, the boys and I will deal with that motherfucker. I need you to go outside and call Cade. I’ll tie this piece of shit up,” Steg grunted.
“Um I think we might have to change our plans, Prez,” I informed him calmly.
“Why?”
“Because my water just broke.”