My Rock #8 (The Rock Star Romance Series - Book #8) by Alycia Taylor Page B

Tristan and I had
ordered a specially made crib for them that had one mattress the size of two
regular crib mattresses. The boys started sleeping through the night when they
were six months old. I looked down at their sweet, curly heads and as I watched
their little chests rise and fall my heart filled so full with love that it
almost ached. Patrick was on his right side and Eli on his left. They did have
their hands stretched towards each other and their little fingers intertwined. People
asked me all the time how I could tell them apart. I don’t really have an
answer for that other than a mother always knows her own child.
    “Don’t, you’ll wake them.” Tristan had snuck in
behind me and whispered in my ear.
    “Don’t what?” I whispered back. I knew what he was
talking about. He knew I wanted them to wake up so I could hold them.
    “Take a picture, or touch them,” he said with his
lips to my ear.
    I stuck out my bottom lip and said, “Can’t we just
wake them up for a little bit? I want to hold them.”
    I felt his face curl up into a smile against my
cheek and he said, “Me, too. But since you’ve done that before and we’ve each
ended up holding one all night, I’m guessing it’s not the best idea.”
    “Fine,” I said, still pouting. I kissed my fingers
and touched each one of their soft warm cheeks. “Aren’t they the most beautiful
things you’ve ever seen?” I asked Tristan. “It’s such a shame not to get a
picture of them holding hands.”
    He smiled again and said, “Yes they’re the most
beautiful things I’ve ever seen, except for their Mama. As far as pictures go,
I can’t imagine that in the fifteen or twenty you snap every day that we don’t
have one of them holding hands already. Good night, little men,” he whispered.
    We tiptoed out, taking the baby monitor with us to
our room. The boys were fourteen months already and hardly ever woke up at
night any more. It was nice to finally get some sleep…the first six months of
their lives I didn’t get any. I’d often sat in the rocking chair in the nursery
all night with one in each arm. Tristan helped a lot…for a guy who’d never been
around kids, but he had work and I didn’t, so I did most of the night call. I
guess I’m never satisfied. Now that I got to sleep at night, I missed holding
them. They were getting big too fast. Sometimes I wished I could turn back the
clock just a little and re-live all the good things that had happened over the
past five years again…only slower this time.
    When we got to the bedroom, Tristan kissed me and
said, “You want to share a shower? No sex, but I’ll wash your back. California
is in a drought you know. We’d be doing our civic duty.”
    I laughed, “Well, if it’s our civic duty how could I
say no?”
    Our bedroom was huge with a granite fireplace and an
attached little sitting room that made it comparable to a suite in a nice
hotel. There was a huge set of French double doors that led out to the veranda
and double walk-in closets. The bathroom was all made of grey and black granite
with double sinks, a sunken tub with power jets and a double headed glass
shower. Tristan and I shared it a lot…and most of the time it wasn’t just for a
shower. That night though, we were both satiated and tired. We helped each
other undress slowly while the water warmed up and then we stepped in. I stood
under one of the shower heads and got wet while Tristan let the other cascade
over his hair and down his back. He was so beautiful that sometimes I felt almost
sexually satisfied just looking at him. When we were both wet
he stepped over to my side with a sponge in his hand. He reached up and grabbed
my body wash and after squirting a more than generous amount on the sponge he
stood behind me and began washing my shoulder blades. He ran it down my back
then and across my ass cheeks before kneeling down and running it first down
one leg and then the other. He even rinsed it and bent back