Liability (8 page)

~*~*~

W
aking up, my heart is pounding hard in my chest as I recall the dream I just had.

“What’s the matter?” Carter asks, getting up on his elbow and looking down at me.

“Bad dream,” I say, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s probably just the hormones,” he says, running his hand over my hair. “The baby book said that sometime they could cause bad dreams.”

“It felt so real.” I shake my head, trying to erase the memory of it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, gathering me against him, and I nod against his chest.

“I was sitting outside on the grass in a big backyard with flowers all around me. It was the middle of the day, and I was little. I could barely walk, but I stood up and wobbled to a dirt pile in the yard. I started to cry when I saw the dirt was covering my mom. When she wouldn’t move, I reached down into the grave and took her necklace....then I woke up,” I say, feeling sick.

“I think stress and the questions about your mom have your imagination running wild,” he says, gently kissing my forehead.

“What if it was real though?” I ask in a whisper, lifting the necklace up and running my fingers over it. “My granddad had to know I took this from his drawer. He had to know, and he didn’t ever question me about it. And he never asked anyone else either.”

“He knew it was something that was meant to be yours.”

“I don’t know,” I mutter. I can’t get rid of the feeling it wasn’t a dream but a memory. I close my eyes. 

“You don’t believe it was a dream.”

“I don’t,” I say, opening my eyes back up to meet his.

“Where could this have happened if it wasn’t a dream?” he asks, studying me while his hand runs gently over my stomach.

“I don’t know. We didn’t have a yard in the city, and I don’t remember having one when I was younger, or going anywhere that was like the place in my dream,” I tell him, wishing I knew if it was real or not.

“Come with me,” he says, getting out of bed and handing me his shirt to put back on as he puts on a pair of sweats. He takes my hand and leads me out of the room and down the hall to his office. Sitting in the chair I was in last night, he pulls me down onto his lap then clicks away on the screen. Not knowing what he’s doing, I wait for him to tell me what he’s looking for.

Soon, my grandfather’s information is there, detailing every account and piece of property he owned before his death. Moving through the list, he stops on a house that my grandparents owned in Connecticut around the time of my birth before selling a few years later. Pulling the address from the list, he pastes it into the internet search bar and the house pops up on a website. Clicking on the link, pictures of the home come into view, and my breath leaves me in a whoosh when I see the backyard that was in my dream.

“That’s the yard,” I tell him, running my finger over the image of the flower-covered backyard.

“I’m gonna make a couple of phone calls. Why don’t you go get something to eat?”

“I can’t eat right now.” I frown, wondering if he’s crazy.

“Fuck, when did you start talking back?” he asks.

“Here,” I say, picking up the phone and handing it to him. Then I turn on his lap, resting both my legs over his, and lay my head on his chest, not wanting to push his buttons too much by laughing at him.

“Fuck,” he growls, wrapping one arm tightly around me then the phone starts to beep, and a few seconds later, he’s talking to his dad. After that, he calls the police in Connecticut where the house is located, and then he calls a judge in the same area. I don’t know how many people he talks to, but I watch the time tick away on the clock for two hours before he puts the phone down and folds his arms around me. “Now, we wait.”

“What’s going to happen?”

“They’re going to send a forensics team to the house to scan the backyard. If anything comes back abnormal, they’ll dig and call us if they find out anything.

Nodding against his chest, I close my eyes and pray.

Sitting at the kitchen counter on one of the barstools, where Carter planted me, telling me I needed to eat, I look at him when his phone begins to ring. Wrapping his arms around the back of my neck, he searches my face—for what, I don’t know—then kisses my lips briefly before picking up his phone.

“Hello? Yeah.” He closes his eyes then wraps his hand around the back of my head and pulls me into his chest. I know I was right. I know it wasn’t a dream without him having to tell me so. After a few more words I don’t really hear, a loud bang sounds in the quiet condo and I know he just threw his phone into the wall. As he wraps his arms around me, I hear his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“It was her, wasn’t it?” I ask, and his arms tighten.

“We can’t know for sure until they do DNA testing, but I can’t imagine it being anyone else, beautiful,” he says, sounding gutted.

“She killed her,” I tell him as wetness covers my cheeks. “She didn’t leave me on purpose.” I cry in relief and sadness then wrap myself around him as he picks me up and carries me across the room. He then lays me down in the bed, holding me tightly as I cry for a mom I never knew. 

W
atching Fern walk across the stage at graduation, I can’t help but feel proud of my beautiful girl. Three weeks ago, forensics confirmed her mom was the woman buried in the shallow grave in the backyard of the house in Connecticut. I knew she needed to know if her mom had left her or not, but I didn’t know how much that information was effecting her until she got the phone call verifying what she already believed.

The police were still building a case against her grandmother, but between what was found at the burial site and her history with Fern, it didn’t look like she would be getting out of jail until she was taken out in a body bag. We would never know if her grandfather knew about what happened, but I want to believe he didn’t.

Standing up from my chair, I clap loud and yell as her hand wraps around her diploma. Turning, she looks at me and presses her fingers to her lips, sending a kiss my way, and my eyes land on the new ring on her finger and I smile.

A week ago, I dragged her to the courthouse, much to my mother’s disapproval. I couldn’t wait any longer for her to be my wife, and I told my mom I was just keeping up with tradition. Neither of us cared about having a big wedding, and really, all I needed was everyone to know she belonged to me.

~*~*~

“W
here are we going?” Fern asks, turning on my lap to look at me.

“I already told you it’s a surprise,” I remind her with a kiss once again as my hand roams over her stomach that is now sporting a small bump.

“Can I have a hint?”

“Nope.” I smile then dig into my pocket for the blindfold I put there before we left home. Covering her eyes before we reach the airport, I lift her out of the car then carry her onto the private jet and into the backroom, laying her down on the bed.

“Are we on a plane?” she asks as I nibble my way down her body, settling myself between her legs. Lifting the bottom of the dress she has on, I pull her panties to the side and distract her with my mouth and my cock until we land in Jamaica two hours later.

“We’re here, baby,” I say, kissing her neck and waking her up.

“Where’s here?” she asks with a smile, running her fingers through my hair.

Leaning down, I ignore her question, pressing a kiss to her mouth then lifting her out of the bed. I help slip her dress back on over her head then take her hand and lead her to the front of the plane, giving the pilot a nod before stepping down the stairs of the plane, hearing Fern gasp behind me. “Welcome to Jamaica,” I tell her, wrapping my arms around her once we’re both on the tarmac. As she lifts up on her tiptoes, I meet her halfway, kissing her deeply.

“I can’t believe you brought me to Jamaica,” she says excitedly.

Kissing her once more, I then lead her over to a car that is waiting for us.

“This is so beautiful,” she says, stepping out the glass door to the balcony that leads to our private pool. Watching her lean her face back and close her eyes as the sun shines down on her, I see the outline of her body through the white material of her dress and feel myself grow hard.

Prowling toward her, I cover her mouth with my own, sweeping my tongue across her lips, earning a moan from her as her hands run up under my shirt and her nails scrape over my abs. Skimming my hands down her sides, I rip her dress up over her head.

“So perfect. Fuck, you’re perfect,” I say, cupping her breasts as my eyes roam over her naked body, which has gotten more beautiful with pregnancy.

“Carter,” she whimpers as I lift her against me so I can suck on her breast. Pulling at my shirt, I give her what she wants and place her on the ground, stripping out of my shirt and jeans quickly. I then duck my head and pull her breast into my mouth as my fingers slide between her legs, feeling she’s already dripping for me. Wrapping her hand around my cock, her hands slide up and down my shaft, making my vision blurry.

“Hey,” she pouts as I pull away.

“I’ll give it back to you,” I promise with a smirk, picking her up and carrying her out the door and through a large garden of tropical flowers.

“Someone might see us,” she protests, ducking her head when I walk out onto the sand of the beach.

“We’re all alone out here, just me, you, and the sun. No one will show up unless they want to die,” I assure her, gripping her ass in my hands and impaling her on my cock.

“Oh,” she moans and her head tilts back. Kissing her throat, I walk toward one of the three outdoor beds and sit with her in my lap as her cunt ripples around me.

“Feel how deep I am,” I say, rocking against her as my hand roams up her back and tangles in her hair. I nibble her bottom lip, her chin, and then I pull back on her hair, forcing her head backward while skimming my mouth down her neck and over her breasts, switching from one nipple to the other. She moans, and the heels of her feet dig into my back as she uses me for leverage. Lying back, I watch her pupils dilate as her hands come down on my chest and her hair falls forward around us like a curtain.

“Fuck,” I growl when her head tilts back toward the sun and her breasts bob in front of me as her hips swivel and dip.
Fuck, I love this woman
.

Lifting up, I open my mouth over hers and her tongue slides across mine. Growling, I hold down her hips as I raise mine in fast thrusts, watching her back arch and her hands move to hold onto her breasts, pulling her already tight nipples, which sends her hot, drenched cunt into overdrive as she milks my cock.

Waiting until she comes back to herself, I flip her to her knees and sink back into her as my hand roams around her waist, zeroing in on her clit. Her head flies back and a loud whimper leaves her mouth as my thrusts slow, but my fingers speed up, bringing her closer to the edge as my cock head runs over her g-spot while hitting the underside of my shaft just right.

“Do you want my cum, beautiful?” I ask, and her answer is a loud cry. Picking up speed, I pinch her clit, sending her over then thrust fast once...twice...then throw my head back and roar my release. Kissing her back, I pull out, watching my cum drip out of her and down her thighs. Gathering her limp body in my arms, I carry her toward the water. Wading out until we’re waist deep, I adjust her, wrapping her legs around my hips.

“It’s so beautiful,” she whispers, looking out at the ocean as the sun sets on the horizon.

She’s right, but nothing compares to the beauty that is Fern.

“S
uck my cock, Fern, like a good little girl, and I’ll give you what you want,” I tell my beautiful wife, watching as my whole cock disappears into her mouth and down her throat. “Good girl,” I groan, petting lightly over the folds of her pussy, still not giving her what she craves. Hearing her moan and cry out around me, I finally give in and rim her pussy with one finger. “You’re such a good girl, baby.”

I moan, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. Without warning, she pushes me to my back and straddles my hips, impaling herself on me, screaming out as I fill her with every hard inch of my cock.

Bringing her forward toward my body roughly, I pull her arms behind her back and hold them with one hand, spanking her hard with the other.

“Did I say you could have my cock?” I ask her between spankings.

“No,” she moans, soaking me with her juices.

“You know you’re not supposed to get off on me spanking you,” I tell her, flipping her to her stomach and slamming into her.

“I know, but I need to come, and Gabby is going to be up any minute,” she reminds me about my daughter, the most beautiful little cockblocker in the whole world.

“I told you to get a nanny,” I gloat.

“I’m not letting someone else raise my child!” she shouts as I ram into her.

She isn’t lying. She hardly lets anyone hold our baby girl. Even I have a hard time getting Gabby from her, and I’m her father.

“I think it’s time for another one. What do you think about that?” I ask, feeling her come all over my cock. “I take that as a yes.” I fuck her harder until I’m filling her with so much cum that it’s dripping out of her.

“You really want another baby?” she asks, flopping down to her stomach and turning her head to look at me.

“Yes, I want three more.”

“Three more,” she repeats with wide eyes.

“I like you pregnant, and maybe if we have four, I can hold one every once in awhile.”

“I’m not that bad,” she pouts.

“Baby.” I shake my head, kissing her neck and smiling.

“I love her so much. I don’t want her to ever think I don’t love her,” she whispers.

“She knows you love her, baby,” I promise her gently. I know that finding out her mom didn’t actually leave her behind, but was killed, still effects her, but I also know our girl will never worry about the way her mom feels about her. She will always know how important she is to us. I love my family, and everyday, I’m thankful I had the balls to take Fern.