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Millie
So I’m driving along, headed home after an impromptu Sunday run for a chocolate milkshake, and who do I see, sitting alone on a park bench?
Axel, that’s who.
It’s been two weeks since I last saw him. Two weeks since he punched Phillip in his arrogant face. Two weeks since I thought it might be the last time I’d ever see him.
And he’s sitting in the park. It’s mid-November and he’s got a black pea coat on, and a scarf. He looks so ... normal. There are a handful of kids out playing, despite the chill in the air. He’s got a book in his lap but he’s obviously distracted from his reading by the children.
As I approach, I can see the wistful look on his face. And I realize this is the same park, the same intersection, where we first met. Well ... where I nearly killed him, anyways.
He doesn’t see me at first, so I have a few moments to take in how beautiful a man he is. Honestly, his face takes my breath away. I feel so much just looking at him. What a gift it is that he just happens to be sitting here. That I just happened to be driving by. That I looked his way.
I suck in a quick, big breath and then let it out in a long, loud exhale. He looks over.
“Millie?” he asks.
“Hi, Axel,” I say.
“How did you ...”
“I just happened to be driving by,” I say, holding up my milkshake cup. “I’m a bit of a chocolate milkshake addict these days.”
He smiles. “Milkshakes, huh?”
“And tacos. But not together. Well, sometimes together, but let’s not talk about that.”
“Lipstick’s obsessed with tuna sandwiches right now. Gross, right?” He chuckles. “Pregnancy, man. How are you?”
“I’m good,” I say. “I’m okay.”
“And Phillip?”
I give him a quizzical look. “What about Phillip?”
“Well, I just assumed ...”
“We’re not together, Axel,” I say. “I haven’t seen him since the day you broke his nose.”
“I broke his nose?”
I nod. “And gave him a brain-busting concussion. As soon as he was coherent, I kicked him to the curb. He said some pretty abhorrent things. Showed his true colors. I was just ... done.”
“I’m glad,” he says. “For breaking his nose and for you kicking him to the curb.”
“Me too,” I say.
He scoots to the side. “I’m an ass. Sit your pregnant booty down.”
I say, “Booty?”
“Trying to be less of a thug,” he says. “Starting with the language.”
“Is that why the J. Crew wear?” I ask, gesturing to his coat and scarf.
He grins. “A little, yeah. I’m thinking of going back to school. Thought I’d try out a less, uh, intimidating look.”
“School?” I ask. “For what?”
“Teaching,” he says. “Well, physical education.”
“That’s still teaching,” I say. “What made you decide on that?”
“Always liked kids. I like working out. Thought I’d make a go of something more legit. But it’ll take a while. And I’ve got the club to manage at least until Rod gets out of prison. Once he’s back, I’ll probably cut loose, just do rides for fun. I mean, I don’t know what Rod will want to do but we have to lay low now anyway, just to keep the cops off of our backs. Our leader really did a number on things. But ... it might be a good thing.”
“Really?” I ask. “What will happen to the club in the meantime?”
“We’ll regroup,” he says with a shrug. “Many guys just got involved because they liked the machines. They like the ride, the parties. They don’t want to run product. They’ve got other jobs, lives, families ...”
“And you’ll just walk away?” I ask
“From the business side, yeah,” he says. He takes a breath in and out through his nose. “Millie, I never meant to go down this path.”
“What path did you mean to go down?” I ask.
He seems to think about this for a minute. “My pops is a mean sonofabitch. He likes beer and football and fuckin’ women. That’s my dad. My momma was a drunk. Abusive. In and out, here and there. So I didn’t have the best role models. I played football in high school, got a little scholarship for college. Drank my way out of it, and out of school right around the time Hard Rod took over the Rippers. I was a mess. My pops was pissed I’d quit school. I just ... jumped in. Full of piss and vinegar, ready to fight the world. It wasn’t where I started, but it provided a brotherhood, a safe space. I needed time to grow up.”
“You veered off course,” I say. “I get that. And I stayed on course too long. Stayed in a lackluster relationship because it was the safe thing to do.”
“Maybe we met in the middle,” he muses.
“Yeah,” I say. “Maybe we did.”
“The last time, things got ... violent. The day I came over to your place all bloody ...”
“An interesting day in my life calendar, for sure,” I say with a little chuckle.
“I hated every second of it. It was part of our code. He betrayed his oath to the club, betrayed our values for personal gain. But I hated what I did to him. I hated it. For the first time, I wanted out.”
“I don’t ... I don’t want you to have to change for me.”
“I’m not doing it for you,” he says. His features soften. “I mean, I want to be a good father, a good partner if you’ll have me but I’m ready. I still love the bikes. I still love the ride and the guys. The rest, though? I don’t want it anymore.”
We sit with that for a long time, just watching the kids play. I find myself really looking forward to the day I can sit and watch my children play. Plural. I want more. I want it with this man. I know that now.
“So what are you doing out here?” I finally ask.
“I, uh ... you’ll think I’m a weirdo.”
“I already think you’re a weirdo,” I say with a grin.
“Well ... I come here sometimes. I just ... like watching the kids. I bring a book and read but I always get distracted. The way they laugh. The way they run to their parents when something cool happens, or when they’re hurt.”
“You really do like kids,” I say. “That’s not weird.”
“It’s weird an unmarried dude with no kids is coming to the park to stare at other people’s kids,” he says.
“Well, when you say it like that ...”
“I’ve always wanted to be a father,” he says. “Always wanted to be a better parent than mine were.”
I reach out and put my hand on his strong thigh. “Well, here’s your chance.”
“Is our baby ... healthy?” he asks.
“It is,” I say.
“And you don’t know if it’s a boy or girl?”
I shake my head. “I have it in an envelope from that day at the doctor’s office. But I didn’t ... I didn’t think it was right to find out ... without you. And I didn’t want Phillip to know before you did.”
He puts his arm around me, pulls me close. I put my head on his broad chest.
“I told my parents about you,” I say.
“Really? I can’t even imagine what you said,” he says.
“Well, they want to meet you,” I say.
“Your dad will probably shoot me,” he says.
“Only if you hurt me,” I say.
He’s quiet for a long time. “I don’t want to hurt you, Millie,” he says. “I want to make you happy.”
A lump forms in my throat. I try to swallow it back, but the tears come anyway. I let out a soft sob. “Stupid hormones,” I say as I sniffle.
I look up and he’s smiling so softly. “You’re so beautiful, Millie. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And I think I’m in love with you.”
This just brings a whole new round of ugly crying. Like, I’m sure I’m all splotchy and crazy looking as I bury my head in his scarf, crying like a baby.
“Are you crying because you’re happy, or because I’m too late?” he asks.
“Happy,” I say, my voice muffled by layers of fabric.
He pulls me onto his lap and puts his lips on mine. At first it’s soft, searching. We spend a moment getting to know each other again. But then it deepens, his tongue tracing my bottom lip, my mouth opening to him.
He pulls away too quickly, his cheeks high with color.
“Are you ... blushing?” I ask.
This makes his cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red. “There are kids here,” he says. “Can I follow you home?”
***
Axel
I FOLLOW MILLIE INTO her little house and it feels like home.
She pulls off her jacket and ... damn. Just. Damn.
Millie’s in a sweet little black sweater and jeans and her baby bump is popping. She’s so beautiful it makes me want to fall to my knees. I manage to stay on my feet as I step forward, putting my hands out, touching her stomach reverently.
“We made this,” I say.
“We did,” she says. She backs away just a little. “I want to ... well, give me a second. Take off your coat.”
I do as told, sitting on the couch to wait. When she comes back, she sits next to me, an envelope in her hands.
“Do you want to open it together?” she asks.
I nod. “Fuck, yeah.” Oops. “I mean, heck, yeah.”
She holds out the envelope, laughing a little. “One, two, three,” she says, as we both tear it open.
We look at the picture. Our baby is there, in the fuzzy ultrasound image. Little hands in clenched fists. Oversized head on a skinny little body. A circle near the middle. The word “BOY” typed in red.
We look at each other. Millie’s eyes are filled with tears.
“A boy,” I say.
“A boy,” she repeats. “A son.”
I pull her to me, hugging her tightly. “I’ve never been so happy in my life, Millie. You, the baby ... our son. It’s all I could ever want. And I’ll do anything I can to make life good for you both. If you’ll have me. Will you have me?”
“Of course,” she says. “Yes, of course. I love you.”
Hands on her cheeks, I life her face to mine. I kiss her like a drowning man who’s found water. We kiss and kiss, and when she pulls away, it’s only to pull her sweater over her head. Her breasts are full and ripe in a black lace bra. Her lips are thick and wet and swollen from our kissing. The freckles that dot her nose and cheeks, the way her hair puffs out from her head in a soft halo these things all make me wish I could paint.
I lay her back and work to pull her jeans off, baring that sweet tummy. She closes her eyes and crinkles her nose. “I’m so fat.”
“Look at me,” I say. When she opens one eye, I say, “You’re gorgeous. Perfect. Amazing. I could look at you all day.”
I kiss her belly, downward. My mouth brushes across the silky panties she wears, my breath hot on her mound. She arches toward my mouth, moaning.
“Yeah, baby,” I say. “That’s what you like.”
I pull her panties over her wide hips and suck in a breath. I’ve missed this pussy, missed this ripe core. I spread her lips apart, lapping at the juices that pool there. I find that sweet little button and flick my tongue at it, making her cry out.
When my fingers join the fun, she moans long and loud and I nearly cream myself like some inexperienced teenager.
“I love you,” I say against her pulsing core. “I love you and I love our son and I love this sweet pussy.”
She’s beyond words as she writhes against me, everything that comes out of her mouth a moan or a cry or an incoherent slur of something that might be cuss words. I love it. It’s perfect.
She just comes and comes and I drink it up and when she finally stills, her hands in my hair, I move up the length of her perfect pregnant body and put my lips on each breast, then her neck, then her lips.
I’m still fully dressed, unfortunately, which my goddess notices as she works to pull my shirt over my head, my pants from my waist. I kick them off clumsily, my cock so hard and ready that all I need to do is slide right in.
“Fuuuuckkk,” I groan as I feel her tight, wet cunt clench around my shaft. She’s coming again and I haven’t even thrust one time.
“I missed you,” she says against my mouth. “Oh my God, I missed you.”