Marital Bitch (Men with Badges) - By Jc Emery Page 0,69

up sloshes around my shoe. I dry heave again, this time opening the door and into the fresh air.

“Disgusting,” I hear him mutter from behind me as he holds my hair and tries his best to soothe me, which isn’t saying much. He fishes around and finds a water bottle for me. I gulp its contents down quickly and lean back inside the truck—stupid Sweetness—catching my breath.

“Is it something you ate?” he asks nervously. I shrug my shoulders and close my eyes. It probably is. I haven’t thrown up in years. “Or do you think you could be pregnant already?” I feel one of his hands graze my stomach before he pulls it away quickly. My heart flutters and my cheeks redden at his impulsive action. I like his hand there. It feels so intimate.

Pregnant? I think that over for a moment. Is it too soon? It’s probably too soon, I reason. But God, I sure hope so. Another flood of images of rowdy little boys flood my mind and warm my heart. I want to have Brad’s baby.

"How long's it been since, you know, anyway?" he asks. I brace myself against the dash and shoot an incredulous look his way. Is he really trying to ask how long we've been having sex for? He begins to blush under my stare. Brad. Blush? What? Well, this is new.

"You mean how long we've been bumping uglies for? You mean how long we've been fucking for? You mean--" and he cuts me off.

"Don't be crude, Colleen," he chastises me, a smirk playing on his lips. The hell? Really? He is telling me not to be crude? Oh, for the ever loving-- "and it’s not bumping uglies," he says, interrupting my internal banter. "It's bumping pretties." I roll my eyes.

He starts up the car and rolls down the windows. "Let's go home, you disgusting thing, you. I don't think my poor truck can take any more of your particular brand of abuse."

"Anyway," I grumble, "I don't know how long it's been. We'll have to look at a calendar."

We get home and to my surprise, Brad comes around to my side in a flash and opens up my door. He offers his hand, which I happily accept, and he helps me out. We walk in and I leave my disgusting shoes just outside the door, and rush up to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

"So, should I go buy one of those things?" Brad asks, sneaking into the bathroom behind me. Despite having brushed my teeth, I can still smell the puke on me so I decide to shower. I undress in front of Brad. I notice he's paying attention to my now naked body as opposed to my face. I take a small bit of pride in the fact that I can cause a physical reaction out of him, judging by Mac's suddenly obvious presence.

"Would you?" I ask. He nods, his eyes focusing on my bare breasts. I'm still on the fence about whether or not I think he thinks of me just as a friend; so I do what any red-blooded woman would do, I try to seduce him to find out. My right hand finds its way to my right breast and begins to gently rub my nipple. Brad gulps, his eyes never leaving my chest. In a not-so-genius move on my part, I try to roll my nipple between my fingers but my nail gets in the way and before I know it, a biting pain shoot through my nipple and I swear on all that is Holy, I think I'm having a heart attack.

"What the hell are you trying to do!" Brad shouts, rushing toward me. The tears flow freely down my face.

"Trying to seduce you!" I cry, unabashedly. His body shakes with laughter but he's careful to keep as quiet as possible.

"You don't have to try, pretty girl," he whispers as he gently massages my battered nipple. He kisses my forehead and smiles. God only knows what the hell he's smiling about.

"I'm going to take a bath," I say with a sigh. I feel better under his touch.

"And I'll go pick up that thingamajig," he grins.

"Hey, pretty boy," I say as he walks away. He looks back, still grinning.

"What's up, pretty girl?"

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" I ask. His entire face lights up.

"What do you want?"

"On three," I say and he nods.

"Boy," we say in unison. And we're both standing there like love-struck fools. At