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JUST LIKE OLD TIMES
SIX MONTHS LATER
LEVI
“HEADS UP, FUCKERS!” Zed shouts as he dive bombs my pool, splashing me, Ryan, and the newest member of Taint, Kit, in the process. The women in our lives are smart enough to be lounging on sunbeds, far enough away from the water, and us idiots.
“Ladies and gentle swine,” Deb says, sliding her oversized sunglasses into place. “I give you Zed Atwood, man-child extraordinaire. Seriously, what the fuck was I thinking?”
Ali tops up Deb’s glass of wine. Deb, Brie, Ali, and Piaf all freeze when Zed emerges from the water, dripping wet and hurtling towards them. “Zed, don’t you fucking dare!”
He leaps onto the sunbed, squashing his girlfriend beneath him and wetting all the girl’s in the process. He dry-humps Deb’s leg, and we all laugh, except of course Deb, and Ryan. “Dude, that’s my fucking sister.”
Despite her earlier protests, she wraps her legs around Zed’s hips and kisses him in a display of gross open-mouthed PDA as he continues to gyrate between her thighs.
“Jesus Christ, this shit is sick,” Ryan complains.
Deb pulls away and leans around Zed’s huge frame, glaring at her brother. “Now you know how I felt when I had to watch you and Levi fucking Ali. No offense, Brie.”
“None taken.” Brie shrugs. “I know he had lovers before me, just like I had lovers before him.”
“How many lovers?” I ask, point blank.
She laughs, her exposed swollen belly contracting with the motion. The baby kicks, my baby. My woman is fucking hot, and she may complain about how swollen her feet are, how her body is no longer her own, or how she can barely fit her cello between her legs anymore to play it, but I fucking love her like this. I’m gonna put a baby in her every goddamn year until we’re sixty.
“Don’t you just love how blasé the French are about sex?” Ali says. “I’m just taking a lover for the afternoon.”
“We French are very upfront about what we want,” Piaf says, eyeing Kit as if he were prey. I feel sorry for the poor bastard because even if he’s not interested in the blue-haired pixie, he’s fucked either way.
“Seriously, how many?” I ask again.
Brie rolls her eyes. “Mon Dieu! Would you stop, already?”
I slide out of the pool, dripping water everywhere and climb on top of my lovely angry French girl, who isn’t so angry these days. I kiss her, hard. She’s panting when I pull away. Her nipples have formed two hard peaks, and her gaze is thick with lust. “Wanna carry on this conversation in the bedroom?”
“I really do.”
I slide off the daybed and help Brie to her feet. Then I smack her arse and watch her little string bikini walk away from me.
Ali chuckles, and I glance down at her. “What?”
“Nothing,” she says, too fast, but her smile hides a secret that indicates it was something.
“Hey, did you get my package in the mail?”
“What package?”
“Wedding present. Don’t worry though; in the meantime, you can take this one.” I head over to the giant Amazon box on the BBQ, grabbing one of the shiny black packages and tossing it to her.
“Oh my God, your fucking dildo. I forgot about this.” She laughs and waves it about so Coop can see. “Hey, look, honey, it’ll be like old times.”
Coop looks like he wants to beat my head in—what’s new, right?—and I walk towards my hot-as-fuck woman. Brie just shakes her head as she waits by our bedroom doors that open out onto the pool. I grab her hand and we disappear inside.
***
SHE LEANS AGAINST OUR bedroom wall trying to catch her breath, as I pull my head out from under her dress. I stare up at her from on my knees. The flush in her cheeks, that dreamy gaze, the way she tangles her fingers in my hair makes me want to do it all again. I am one lucky bastard. I circle my fingertip around her clit, and she squeezes her thighs together with a laugh that tells me I’m fresh out of luck. I know I’m not getting inside her anytime soon, not until that baby comes out because she’s a billion months pregnant and practically runs in the other direction when I drop trou. Can’t say I blame her though. If I had a tiny human growing inside me, I wouldn’t want a huge dick poking around in there either.
Besides, I don’t need my kid having his first concussion before birth. I’m not doing anything to screw up this child, and French women are scary as hell when they’re mad.
I run my hand over Brie’s swollen belly, feeling the baby kick against my palm. All those endorphins in Brie’s system must create their own kind of music because this kid is dancing like he’s the second coming of Michael Jackson.
I bury my head beneath her dress again—you know, to get closer to the baby—at least that will be my excuse if she tries to push me away. Since she hasn’t already, I take that as a green light and shove her legs further apart, burying my face in her sweet, hot cunt.
“Holy shit!”
I slide out from under Brie’s dress and wipe her juices from my stubble with the back of my hand, climbing to my feet. “What the fuck, Ryan?”
He covers his eyes. “Sorry, shit. I’m sorry, Brie.”
“I told you not to come in here unannounced,” Ali says, whacking Coop in the chest. She doesn’t bother covering her eyes though. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say my ex wanted to get all up in my Angry French Girl’s snatch.
“Mon Dieu!” Brie sighs. “Is nothing sacred around your band?”
“Not really. Welcome to loving a rock star,” I say, tucking her panties in my back pocket.
“You get used to it,” Ali says.
Brie lips twist into a smirk, directing her playfulness at me. “Hmm, I’m not entirely sure he’s worth it.”
“Hey,” I say. “I’m worth every annoying word that comes out of Coop and Zed’s mouths.” And because I can’t help it, I pull her close and kiss her stupid.
“Mmm. Tu sens comme moi,” Brie says. “You taste like me.”
“And that’s our cue to leave,” Coop says.
“Well perhaps if you’d listened to me in the first place, dumbarse, we wouldn’t have interrupted them.”
“Yes, Ali-cat, I should never doubt your sage wisdom again. Brie, you’re wanted in the studio. Kit’s just laid his bass down for the track.”
“He go okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, he was good.” Ryan shrugs. “He’s no Ash, but then who is, right?”
“Hey, my client is fucking awesome,” Ali says.
“Still can’t believe my own wife hustled me.”
“Hey, Ali, maybe when you grow up and become a real manager, you can have more than one client.” I wink. She gives me the finger.
“I don’t need more than one client. You just wait until you arseholes start touring. Kit’s going to be all they talk about.”
“Kit’s going to get eaten alive. The kid will have more pussy than he knows what to do with,” I say, ignoring Coop and Ali, and kissing the most beautiful woman in the world. Her eyes are glassy as she comes up for air. I wish these arseholes would fuck off because Brie needs to be in the studio to record the songs we wrote in this house all those months ago, and just like then, I haven’t had my fill yet. I’m not done with her, and I doubt I ever will be.
“And speaking of pussy, get the fuck out. My woman needs to play, and I promised to make her come on my hand while she blows me.”
“Right, well, you two have fun with that. Coop and I will be ... not here.” Ali grabs her husband’s shirt and pulls him from the room. His reply is lost on me, because my everything moans as I gently push her back against the wall and kiss her again as if I’m dying, and she’s the oxygen to my lungs.