Please, Oh Please, OOOOOH Pleeeease

Part 1

Three going on four months those jerks have held out, avoided and damn near tortured me!

I was cleared two months after I had the quads. Dr. Roberts took over as my doctor when Sean refused to believe that I could have healed so soon.

I am going crazy.

Don't get me wrong the boys were helpful with the babies, changing, cleaning, and supporting, encouraging me not to give up when I wanted to bottle feed after one especially frustrating feeding. They were so tender and sore, even peeling, not fun. Kota gave me facts to reassure me that it wouldn't last much longer and North just being there. He is one of my biggest supporters, always there with cream, something to drink, a shoulder to cry on, and arms to carry me back to bed when I was too tired to move from the rocker in my room.

The babies are all staying in my room at least until they grow out of their basinets. We've had to shuffle them around a few times. They boys can't be in the same basket. Zane lies stretched out, and Ashton likes to be left alone except with the girls who cuddle anything and everything.  My three angels and their protective guardian and big brother are content and sleeping for at least the next few hours, and I have extra energy for the first time in forever.

Momma is going on the hunt, and her first victim is going to help me get ready for the next.

"Oh Meanie, Trouble is coming for you." I look down at my t-shirt and shorts, first things first.

I text Meanie asking him to come to my room in ten.

I rush to the shower keeping my hair dry. I run to the closet as I take the band out of my hair and open the one draw that hasn't been open in forever. It's been...five...seven...nine months since I have had any!

The neon orange set comes out; the cheeky style bottoms go on, snuggly but still okay, and right as I pull the matching bra on, I hear the door turn, the air shift, and lavender with a hint of rose surrounds me. A deep inhale of breath behind me clues me into him being right where I need him.

I swing my hair to my left and look over my right under my eye lashes.

He is standing there stunned; I see movement thinking it's his hands. I look down.  It's not his hand that moved.  His jeans look... tighter, good.

"Gabe, Meanie, can you help me? I'm having trouble." I show him what I'm taking about trying to latch the back. "It just won't stretch."

He looks at me, and for a minute, I think he is going to run. He doesn't; he put his fashionista pants on and spins his finger asking me to turn around. Of course, I do; why wouldn't I?

"Fu * * Trouble, Dam* Mother F***er."

I cross my arms not realizing what this does to my new and improved chest. "What? What did I DO now?"

My hands go on to my hips uncaring about how much of my body is on display at the moment. I feel a tickle on my shoulder, and I go to brush it off when I look down uncomprehending what is on my shoulder. It's a strap; the strap to my bra. I take a further look at the front of my bra which barely covers anything and not because its not hooked but because it doesn't fit.

"Umm, Meanie?" I look at him still in the same place, frozen unable to move, just staring. "We might have a problem," I say slowly, giving him enough time to acknowledge what I am saying along with gesturing to my mostly exposed chest.

A laugh escapes; I can't contain myself any longer from the look of him you would think he's never seen them before. I am still laughing as I grab my silk robe off a near by hook and tie it securely. Controlling my laughter at least a little bit, I walk up to Gabe. He blinks a few times before his eyes shift from the blank look he has been sporting for the past few minutes to a look of lust, desire, and desperation.

Amazing, those stupid boys have been torturing themselves along with me and for wha...not what, WHO! Dr. Sean!

I just found my next vict... reunion.

"Meanie," I say softly as my hands wrap around his waist and his hands wrap around mine, "you're an idiot. You are all idiots, but I love you. Now forget what that silly doctor of ours said and kiss me, at least to start." My voice drops to a husky whisper, seductive in nature. Successful in its plight because his lips touch mine tentatively at first as if he can't believe he is really allowed to touch me then grow more passionate as time goes on.

His hands find the opening on my robe quickly, going for my skin, moving up and down my sides, brushing the edge of my breast. He makes short work of the tie before pushing it off my shoulders where it falls to the floor. His hands, now unhindered, run the length of my body. I can feel more than hear a growl in his chest when his hands grab my butt.

I revel in his rough treatment; his muscles tense, bunch, and pull as I am picked up and pushed against the nearest wall.

Right now, I am just as impatient as he is. I need his belt and jeans gone, now!

My fumbling hands are undoing his belt then his pants as our lips meet and clash, warring with our need to be gentle and our passion to have each other.

He breaks from our kiss, gasping. "Sang, my God, Trouble. I have been going insane with wanting you. Looking at you feed those babies is an... addicting sight. And damn, walking in to your closet to see you f**king standing there sexy as sin just about made my pants bust at the seams."

His speech is animated; his movements restless, with my legs resting on his hips and my ankles crossed behind his back causing friction in just the right places.

A whimper that turns in to a moan slips past my lips at the end of his rant, his words making my arousal grow more intense.

I lean back exposing my neck to him, closing my eyes, letting the darkness envelope me so I can more fully feel his kisses pepper anywhere he can reach.

I am a breathless, wanton mess, and I can't wait for more.