The puppy-dog eyesalmostworked. Almost. But then her eyes landed on his cut where he’d added a patch that looked suspiciously like a fucking sperm and her spine straightened.
“Yes.”
His shoulders slumping, Pumpkin nodded once. “Well, okay then.”
With a sweep of his hand, Pumpkin cleared the table. Her plate that had originally been his plate, the napkin holder, the ceramic mug, and the pamphlet all went flying to the floor.
Dosia’s eyes widened in shock. “What are you doing?”
Standing, Pumpkin started stripping. “We’re having sex.”
Dosia looked around to verify he was talking about them and not someone else in the room. “We are?”
He’d already pulled his cut and sweatshirt off, and was now working on his belt buckle. It had taken a lot of time and patience, but Pumpkin was finally without his cane or walker. He still was gaining back his muscle from before his motorcycle accident, but he was getting stronger each day and she was so proud of him for it.
And despite the mess of food and broken dishes now on her kitchen floor, Dosia’s eyes couldn’t help but land on his toned stomach, thick arms, and tattooed chest where their children’s names were permanently etched above his left nipple. Her tongue darted out, moistening her lips. Her man was too good-looking for his own good.
She squirmed on her chair, feeling herself get wet. His eyes tracked her movement, and that mischievous glint she loved so much made his eyes seem to sparkle.
His belt hit the floor. “Stand up, baby.”
Dosia rose. Her heart started racing and the blood in her veins turned molten. She had no idea how they’d gotten from him being worried about his precious little balls being cut off to them having sex over their kitchen table, but she in no way was backing out.
Pumpkin lifted a booted foot onto the chair he’d vacated. He unlaced it before slipping it from his foot and starting on the other one. “Are you planning on undressing or leaving that to me?” His dark eyes trailed up and down her slowly. “I’m good either way.”
She toed off her slippers. While she’d learned that pajamas were useless attire around this man—since he stripped her naked each night before making love to her and then generally redressed her in one of his long shirts—she preferred wearing slippers around the house. She’d grown up in a home where outdoor shoes weren’t allowed inside. Pumpkin was still trying to get used to that idea, and forgot a lot of the time. She’d wear him down eventually.
Pumpkin’s pants hit the floor. Dosia had seen him naked numerous times by now. Yet each time was like the first, marveling at the rugged beauty of him. At times, Dosia felt she fell short in comparison. She had stretch marks from her pregnancy, rolls and curves. Even the scars from his motorcycle accident were fucking sexy.
Stepping forward, Pumpkin lifted her onto the table. The heavy wood easily took her weight. His hands slipped under her shirt, lifting it over her head. Her nipples tightened beneath her bra at his attention as goosebumps rose on her skin.
“I know I joke about my super sperm.” His voice was all seriousness, no longer light with horror or amusement. “But nothing is more important to me than you and our kids.” He touched her exposed belly, sending a shiver up her spine. “I love you, Dosia. If you want me to get a vasectomy, I will.”
Dosia reached up and touched his face. He brought his lips down on hers, delving his tongue into her mouth like he owed it. Which, he did.
Pulling back, Dosia kissed his nose. “Nice try. You’re not going to smooth talk your way out of this either. It’s either snip-snip for you or watching me use my vibrator for the remainder of our sex life.”
Pumpkin seemed to blink as if he was contemplating which was the worse evil.
Aghast, Dosia slapped his bare chest. “Don’t you dare!”
His hands went to her waistband, completely unbothered by her physical attempt to punish him. “Lift your ass up and let me prove to you why a vibrator couldneversatisfy you the way I can.”
CHAPTER 8
PUMPKIN
Pumpkin could not get his leg to stop bouncing. He’d been through worse. The number of surgeries and procedures he’d endured following his motorcycle accident had been astronomical. Additionally, the pain had been the worst he’d ever endured, not to mention his fear of getting addicted to the strong pain medications. And yet… Getting his—what the fuck was it called again?—his vas deferens snipped seemed so much worse!
He didn’t even know what the fuck a vas deferens was or where it was located. He knew it was under his dick, but that was about it. Anytime he tried to look it up, it wigged him out so much that he couldn’t bear to look or think about it.
Jesus. Why was he doing this? Shit, right. Dosia wanted him to do it. And fuck him because he wanted to make her happy. He loved her, and she’d given him so much. Not to mention that she kind of had a point about condoms and his super sperm.Threefailed condoms? Because he sure as fuck used a condom with that bitch Cheryl. And yet, clearly condoms were no match for his super sperm.
Fuck him up the ass without lube. This shouldn’t be that big of a deal. Men got vasectomies and survived it all the time. If itwasn’t a safe procedure, they wouldn’t offer it. Or they’d do it at the hospital and admit him. Which he was still unclear why they weren’t? Was it really safe for him to go home afterwards? Maybe he should consider hiring a home nurse to help take care of him for the next few days. He really didn’t want Dosia to have to do it all on her own, especially with SJ’s birthday party in two days.
But she was insistent that he could still get his…whatever the fuck it was called snipped and SJ would still have an awesome party.
Dosia was sitting with Paige. Both were laughing over something in a magazine they’d found on the couch’s end table. Why the fuck did they look like nothing major was about to happen? How could they just sit there so calmly while Pumpkin’s balls were shriveling up inside him in utter fear of what was about to transpire? Maybe if they shrank enough, the doctor wouldn’t be able to find his…vas thingy.
