We stumbled our way to the house, and he had to put me down to fumble with the front door lock. My hands were all over him—unbuttoning his jeans, sliding under his shirt to trace his abs, scratching lightly down his back. By the time we made it into the bedroom, I was on fire for him.

“Damn,” he mumbled once he’d stripped me naked and laid me on the bed. “Look at you, Little Mama. All fuckin’ ripe and swollen.”

I felt my face flush at his words. He’d seen me so many times before, but I was still nervous like it was the first time. Three months was a long time.

“I’m going to get a lot bigger,” I whispered in warning as he pulled his shirt over his head. “In about two more months, it’s not going to be so attractive.”

He smirked at me as he pulled off his boots and jeans. “That right? Your smile gonna change? Your hair? The way you respond to me in bed? The way you take care of my kids? Any of that gonna change?”

I shook my head slowly as he crawled up the bed and laid his body on top of mine. “You could gain fifty fuckin’ pounds, all that in your ass, and I’d still think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before he leaned down and kissed me right above my left breast. “I love you, woman.”

“Love you, too,” I replied with a smile as I pulled the rubber band out of his hair and ran my fingers through it.

“Now, kiss your man,” he ordered in a gruff voice.

I kissed him and whimpered as one of his hands pinched my nipple gently before exploring the roundness of my belly.

“Everything okay in here?” He lifted his head and asked me gently.

“Yeah, honey. Everything in there is perfect,” I reassured him, and that must have been the opening he was looking for.

After a quietly grumbled, “Good,” he leaned back on his knees and draped my thighs over his legs. He sat there for a minute, watching me, taking in my rosy lips and nipples and sliding his gaze down between my legs.

“Ah, baby. Look at how wet you are for me. Fuckin’ drippin’,” he groaned, his voice taking on the sandpaper quality that I’d come to expect when we were in bed.

He dipped his hand between my legs, and before I could prepare for it, he slid one finger inside. My back arched off the bed as I let out a wail that would’ve embarrassed me if I had any idea what I was doing. It had been so long since I’d felt him.

He added another finger, watching my face as he did so, and I found myself begging him incoherently while he told me to slow down. I couldn’t slow down, and I didn’t understand why he would want to either. He’d had the same dry spell as me! I was needy, digging my nails into anything I could reach, and he finally lost patience with me.

“Brenna!” he barked, pulling me out of the spell I’d been under. “Slow the fuck down! You want my dick? I’ll give it to you! But I can’t do that when you’re fuckin’ outta control! One of us has gotta keep our head, and the second I get inside you, I’m gonna fuckin’ lose it!”

His breath was bellowing out in big gusts, and I finally realized why he’d been teasing me.

“You’re not going to hurt the baby.” I curled up, so I could put my hand against the side of his face. “Come inside,” I whispered.

He turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand before laying me back on the bed, following me down, and sliding inside me with one smooth thrust.

“Ah fuck, Brenna!” he groaned into my ear as he started to move. “Not gonna last long, baby. You feel so fuckin’ good. Shit.”

He was right. He didn’t last long, but I still got mine.

The second round was a lot slower, and I got two more.

Eventually, we crawled out of bed and headed back to his party. He grabbed a tiny pair of jean shorts for me to wear, and when I complained about not being able to button them, he made me wear them with a rubber band holding them together. I was pretty sure he just wanted me to wear something that showed off my small belly. He was trying to play it cool, but I could tell he was proud as hell that I was pregnant.

As we walked back to the clubhouse, I tried to imagine what our lives would have been like if I’d told him when I was pregnant with Trix and Draco. Five years ago, we’d been in completely different places in our lives. He’d been newly patched into the club, and I’d been running as fast as I could. Who knows if we would have been able to make it work?

I had no doubts now. We’d been through more than most couples dealt with in their entire lives, and we’d survived. I couldn’t picture the rest of my life anywhere but by his side, raising our babies, and ignoring the sideways looks we’d get from the outside world.

Brenna and I were walking back to the clubhouse the night of my party when a car came up the drive, swerving and spitting gravel. We were pretty close to the doorway of the club, so I called out to the boys inside as I pulled Brenna behind me.

I didn’t recognize the car as it pulled to a stop about fifty feet away from us, but the chick who climbed out looked familiar. It was starting to get dark outside, but I could see her face just fine, and she was pissed. She was tiny, even smaller than Brenna, and she had pitch-black hair that was cut to her chin in front but shorter in the back. I glanced down her body, but I couldn’t see much as she yelled and raised one of her arms around, waving what looked like a pistol in the air.

Before I could push Brenna toward the door, brothers came rushing out in a wave into the yard, taking in the scene quickly. I felt Brenna jerk behind me as the woman looked at us and pointed her gun our way.