Because Of The Times
“Crawl”, Rotterdam
Because Of the Times
Songs: Pickup Truck, by Kings of Leon
Knocked Up, by Kings of Leon
Crawl, by Kings of Leon
Chapter 22
The sky was cloudless and the sun was still gentle. Birds were chirping loudly and voices came from the house.
It was an absolutely perfect morning.
A breeze was coming off the creek.
Matt’s taken the boat, and went fishing with his dad and a few other cousins.
Grandma and some aunts were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Pot and pans and snippets of conversation were heard from the veranda.
Another family reunion.
The two of them had escaped the house earlier in the morning and went to lie out and swim in the creek.
He was showing off in the water, diving and jumping, and then, once they came out of the creek, he took her in his arms and fell asleep next to her, his face by her breast. She was reading, as she always did, her arm around him. He was at peace for at least a little while.
He opened his eyes, then glanced at his watch.
“So this girl on the internet said that I speak slow and ramble on and on. Is that true?”
Claire laughed and set her book aside.
“Yes,” she nodded.
“What?”
“Well, how do you explain this?” she shrugged. “You are sleeping. You wake up. And the first words out of your mouth are about something you read on the internet. You are prone to rambling. And you do speak slowly, but I am used to it, because I probably do too.”
“Well, I think that was uncalled for!” he muttered.
“Well, I am used to your slow talking and I don’t mind your rambling. So don’t worry about internet girls.”
He leaned over her and took her in the crook of his arm.
She stoked his cheek and he kissed her softly. His finger slipped to the still-damp top of her bathing suit and he moved the material to the side, exposing her breast.
“This is Oklahoma,” she reminded him with a smile. “Not French nude beaches.”
“I miss French nude beaches. So at least give me a little taste of topless.”
He lowered his head and kissed her nipple. She put her hand on his neck, squeezing softly. He pulled the breast deeper in his mouth, and licked its firm tip with his strong tongue. Her skin was soft and damp and salty, and the scent of her, and the taste of her skin made him hard. Her long fingers slipped under the waistband of his trunks and she shook her head.
“Tsk, tsk. Mr. Followill, well I do believe that you are currently in a precarious position.”
He laughed and said,
“Miss Prendergast, I do believe you are to blame for my precarious position.”
“Well, of course I do what I can.”
Her hand rested just below his navel, the fingers tangling within the matt of hair, while he rolled over her and took her face between in his hands, kissing her lovingly. Her hand slipped over his shoulder and down his back. He winced.
“Oh…”
She made a face and rolled her eyes.
They were never prone to much fighting, but the fact that he decided to get rid of his “frog with cock” tattoo and replace it with an elaborate flower arrangement didn’t sit well with her.
“I don’t even know who you are!” she raged at him right before they came here. “I am not going to Oklahoma! We are broken up!”
“But honey,” he pleaded, “you can’t break up with me over a tattoo! And I dedicated it to you too.”
He knew that she was joking of course, but she was genuinely pissed at him for getting rid of the stupid frog. For some reason, she was seriously attached to that thing.
The tattoo was a large thing, which took a long time to create and it was still raw and red.
Ruthlessly, she squeezed it rather hard and he sucked air through his teeth.
A fake smile appeared on her lips.
“Something the matter?”
“Oh no,” he lied, “doing great! If possible, I do prefer when you hold onto my neck. Not my shoulder blade.”
“Ahhh…but it’s just so much more comfortable to hold onto your shoulder,” she argued, and squeezed again.
“Uncle Caleb! Uncle Caleb, what you doing? You kissing?” little kids, cousins and nephews and nieces, all five of them were giggling and watching them.
He quickly pushed the cup of her bra over her breast and rolled off her.
“What are you guys doing?” he asked, sitting down.
“You wanna play soccer with us?” asked one of the kids, holding a ball under his arm.
“Maybe a little later.”
“Oh, so you gonna be kissing here?” burst out another.
A ripple of giggles and huffing and blushes…
He smirked and shook his head.
“You guys—I just gave Claire a “good morning kiss”. That’s all.”
They stared at him with obvious lack of confidence about the truthfulness of his words.
“I think you love Claire,” proposed one of them brashly—the oldest, worldliest one, at all of 6 years of age.
“I do love Claire,” he agree, propping himself on his elbows.
“See, I told you!” exclaimed one of the kids. There was nodding and elbowing each other.
“And Claire loves me too,” he added.
“Yeah?”
Claire nodded and said,
“I do love Caleb very much. More than anything.”
They all felt very protective of Claire, since she was their hero. Yesterday, when the sun was hot and they were all exhausted from running around and playing, she drove to town and returned with 4 gallons of ice cream. While they all squealed with excitement, and begged her to hurry up, she set up a long ice cream sundae station, complete with waffle and sugar cones, chocolate and caramel sauces, strawberries, crushed Oreos, whipped cream, jelly beans, and a variety of candy—Sneakers, Twix, Peanut butter Cups, Milky Ways and M&Ms. For the next two hours, she was making and serving the most elaborate concoctions. Quickly Ivan ambled over, other older men, Cleo—and soon there was a line for some ice cream.
“You love Uncle Caleb?” demanded one of them severely.
She stroked her lover’s shoulder and nodded with a smile.
“He is very nice and I do love him.”
The children processed the admission, and then muttered to each other, “that’s why they kiss!” “I told you, I know!” “She love him too…” “But why are they kissing?”
The group, engrossed in conversation and newfound information went on its merry way.
He burst out laughing, and she joined him.
He leaned over her and slowly stroked her cheek.
“You are the one, Claire.”
It’s been a month since she had joined him on the road.
The adjustment was not exactly easy.
His life was kind of insane, and even though he was used to it, and she’s experienced it in large doses, it still wasn’t a walk in the park. Even the togetherness was something that she needed to get used to. He didn’t mind having her at his side at all times, but in the beginning, he could feel her pulling away, and he realized that it was happening because she wasn’t used to having him near her constantly. So wisely, before it became a problem, he stepped aside and let her take charge of her life. At least she felt that he had stepped aside—he didn’t feel that he needed to convince her otherwise.
He had travelled to Chicago, along with her parents, siblings, and grandparents and attended her university graduation,. For someone who’s never graduated from anywhere, the pageantry of university graduation was quite thrilling to him. He hauled a gigantic basket of roses with him—there were 100 of them, and her brother had to help him carry the thing. He rented a boat, and had dinner catered for the family and friends—fancy, if unimaginative dishes of crab, and shrimp, Filet Mignon, sea bass and lamb chops. But he realized that not everyone appreciated complex fine dining as much as he, Nathan, Jessie and Claire did. It was a gorgeous early May evening, and the boat glided along the Chicago river, before entering the open waters of Lake Michigan. Downtown glittered and sparkled in front of them. A sliver of the Moon hung amid bleary stars.
He took her hand and they went upstairs, on deck.
“Thank you for this,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his waist. “This is very extravagant. You didn’t have to do all of this.”
“I am proud of you,” he exclaimed. His amazement sounded genuine. “I can’t even believe how you did it all—this really hard school, your family, the band, traveling, and,”
“You,” she concluded.
“Yeah. Me. I am a fruit.”
She laughed and nodded.
“You have no idea,” she stepped towards him and bit the top of his ear. “But you are my fruit. So you are sweet to me,” she murmured.
They walked to the railing and he put his jacket over her bare shoulders. The wind whipped her hair and her lock swooshed against his cheek. He liked the faint scent of her perfume, as it washed over him. She wore a blue halter dress and high-heeled shoes. The wind picked up the hem of the dress and the skirt flew up, baring her legs, all the way to her upper thigh.
“Windy city,” he smiled.
“Enjoying the view?”
“Always.”
They leaned over the railing, watching Buckingham Fountain shoot jets high up in the air.
“Lollapalooza here, in a couple of months,” he said.
“Headlining. It’s the big time.”
“Took long enough…But it’s pretty amazing anyway. Some of these things that are happening—they are hard to believe.”
She took his hand in hers and put her head on his shoulder.
“Well, I am proud of you too. The things that you’ve achieved in the past three years—incredible.”
“Do you want to marry me?” he burst out.
“Yes,” she answered calmly.
“I didn’t…I don’t have a ring or anything…”
“Well thought-out plan, I see,” Claire smiled.
He turned to face her, his expression serious.
“Claire…I am…I didn’t mean to do it like this. I had a plan, all worked out in my head. But…I just love you and I want to know that this will happen for us. And also,” he swallowed hard, “now, it seems that things are so big and complicated that I really need a piece of mind.”
She slipped between him and the railing and pushed her cheek to his chest embracing him tightly.
“I love you.”
He kissed her head and said,
“I love you too.”
They didn’t tell anyone of their plans. With all the Followill tripping over each other on the way to the altar, the engagement field suddenly became very crowded. Literally, every brother and their cousin got the marriage bug simultaneously, so there was no shortage of joy and planning. Caleb did give her a lovely diamond pendant, as a token of his promise, and then got himself a new tattoo, as his own “engagement gift”. Claire also didn’t feel like stealing the bridal thunder away from Johanna and Jessie, as well as Alisa, though things were getting tense between Jared and his fiancé. Furthermore, planning a wedding was the last thing she wanted to do right now. She got to interview for a PR position for the band—she knew she’d get it, of course, but she didn’t really want to work for the Kings. So instead, she was recruited to get lesser known bands’ names out there—The Whigs and The Features. She disagreed on the prospects of some other bands, like Built to Spill, and even Glasvegas, and she and Caleb had some serious, heated discussions about it.
“Great, now I am fighting with my woman about work. See, before you were working, we had no fights. Now, you are all independent and of course, got a mind of your own.”
She smacked him upside the head and wouldn’t talk to him for the rest of the day.
Nathan was walking around, teasing Caleb about not being able to handle his free spirited, independent girlfriend.
But all in all, it was going well. She was a huge champion of The White Lies and booked them to open for the Kings for part of the US tour.
“Are you going to run out on me with hunky Harry McVeigh?” worried Caleb.
“Probably. He is younger than me, and shorter too. But he is cute and got a lovely personality.”
“Oh, and I don’t got a lovely personality?” he demanded.
“Oh, a little too lovely. But what can I do. Gotta take you such as you are, and dream of Harry…”
“Don’t dream too much,” he muttered.
“Jesus Christ, what am I, Dr. Phil?”
Nathan plopped on the blanket next to Claire.
She opened her eyes and squinted at him.
“I mean, you talk funny and used to have a moustache, and of course you got the home-spun Southern wisdom thing going for you, but I don’t think that you are Dr. Phil. Though I might be wrong.”
Nathan laughed and popped open a can of Bud.
“Want one?” he asked.
“Nah…too early in the day for me.”
“Well, that’s just stupid,” he shrugged. “it’s after 10am!”
“Well, if it’s after 10…So, why are you Dr. Phil? Seems like we are behaving. Matt and Johanna are engaged and also behaving. Nacho is a one woman man, considering that Syd is due in less than two months…Who is left?”
“Fucking Jared.”
She flipped on her back.
“I must say,” started Nathan, sizing her up, the blue bikini top and the cutoff jean shorts, the long, slim, narrow body,
“Don’t,” snarled Caleb, without opening his eyes.
“I thought you were sleeping,” muttered Nathan.
“I am,” said Caleb. “But I can see what’s going on with my eyes closed. Quit looking at my woman.”
Claire was laughing at the two bickering brothers.
“Tell me about Jared,” she insisted.
Then she put on her t-shirt and asked,
“Here, feel better, my jealous lover?”
“Yes,” agreed Caleb and reached for a beer.
“So?”
Nathan lay back and said,
“Okay, so you know how Alisa’s been kinda crazy lately?”
Both rolled their eyes. When wasn’t she fuming and flaming with some new anger and accusation?
“No, no,” he took out a joint and lit up. The strong smell of Afghan Kush filled the air. “Don’t be rollin’ your eyes on me. This time, I think she’s got a valid reason.”
“Which is?”
“Remember that gal Jackie? Works for the record company…”
Caleb scratched his head and shrugged.
“Jackie,” muttered Claire, “oh yeah…young girl? Real pretty with long black hair? Nice smile, kind of quiet…”
“Yeah, the Italian bird,” nodded Nathan.
“So?”
“Looks like our little brother Jared is smitten. Remember when you and I were signing some financial stuff?”
“Yeah…And Jared and Matt were gussing up, fussing over hair and outfits,” mused Caleb with disdain.
“So I guess Jackie was sent to entertain them, when they were waiting, and Jared saw her, and bada bing,”
“Oh…no. Define “bada bing”?” asked Claire with a frown.
“Well, I don’t think that it’s gone very far yet—seems like she is a homebody, and isn’t made from the same cloth as most of Jared’s posse.”
“So not a hoe?” said Caleb bluntly.
“Yeah, pretty much. Seems like he’s been texting her like crazy. And they talk every day. Well, Alisa apparently got wind of it—don’t know if she overheard it or whatnot. But all hell broke loose! Screaming and yelling and crying.”
“What’s new?”
“Don’t be an ass,” Claire pushed Caleb’s shoulder.
“Hey, I always said—he is too young to get married!” exclaimed Caleb. “You can push me all you want, I stand by my words.”
“Of course. We should all take marriage advice from one Caleb Followill.”
“Why? I can’t have an opinion?”
“You can. But Jared did something right. Something that was for him. He’s been playing the field and partying long enough, and he wanted to settle down,”
“Claire, my dear, you don’t even like Alisa,” reminded her Caleb with a smirk.
She fell silent.
He sat up and kissed her shoulder.
“Ugh, leave me alone!” she threw his hand off her arm.
Nathan laughed.
“See, upset the woman, again.”
“All I am saying is that Jared should be falling for pretty girls, getting his face punched and be a normal 22 year old. Not get married. Leave that to us.”
Nathan threw a questioning glance at Caleb, took another puff, but didn’t say anything.
Caleb realized that he slipped up and quickly added,
“Us older folks. I even think that Matt’s too young to marry, but he aint my brother, and he and Johanna are solid. She does him good. Alisa and Jared, not so much.”
She looked up at her watch and got up.
“I have to go and start setting up for Syd’s baby shower. And you two, please let Jared make his own decisions. Neither one of you is qualified to give romantic advice. I think that he is more mature and smarter in many ways than you two.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence gal pal!” laughed Nathan.
“No problem.”
“So what will you gals do at this shower?” inquired Caleb with a smirk. “Watch Lifetime? Strip down to your bras and panties and have a tickle fight? Have a good cry?”
She rolled her eyes and marched off, silent, shaking her head, muttering.
“I can’t even deal…”
Both of them were laughing loudly.
“You pretty much aren’t getting any for like a month,” warned Nathan.
“Yeah…I am guessing at least a month. But it was fun. She is really cute when she is riled up.”
Later in the day, the cupcakes were eaten and presents were opened.
It was a simple shower, nothing over the top, but the whole family was here, so it was convenient.
Darkness was falling but the women were oohing and ahhhing over baby clothes, toys and strollers.
“You done with the chick stuff?” Caleb’s strong hands wrapped around her stomach and he put his scrappy, bearded cheek on her shoulder, scratching it.
Claire laughed and nodded.
“Yeah, done. What, you missed me?”
“Hell yeah…I wanna spend time with you, not the guys!”
“Where do you want to go?”
He took her hand and they slowly disappeared into the darkness.
They went to Mike’s Bar—a local attraction, actually, the only place to go and do anything at. It was dive as dive went, but everyone knew each other’s names, and everybody certainly knew the Followills.
“Are we settling in for the night?” he asked.
She shrugged.
“Oh-oh…no fun,” he drawled, seeing her unenthusiastic reaction. “Can I get a shot at least?”
“Go get your shot.”
He chugged a Tequila shot and then they left the bar.
The evening was warm, and they overheard a lot of hooting and screaming from one side of the farm. The party was in full swing down there. He stopped abruptly and took her face between his hands.
“Are you all right?” he asked seriously.
“Of course.”
“Is it because Lily is here?”
She shrugged.
“She came for the shower, it’s fine.”
“Okay. Can I take you to the trailer and make some sweet lovin’ to ya?” he proposed casually.
She thought for a second and then said,
“You know. It’s not a bad idea.”
He perked up right away, and exclaimed,
“You serious? Let’s go!”
Before she would even say anything, he swung her off the ground and picked her up.
“Wait, wait—it’s far! I’ll walk.”
“I think we might actually get there faster if I carry you!”
She laughed at his impatience and wrapped her arms around his shoulder, kissing him softly.
Because so many of them were now coupled, just sleeping in the barn or even outside was no longer feasible. So the next generation –teenagers—now moved into the barn, and since Caleb and Nathan actually had money, they all rented trailers where they and the family stayed for the duration of the reunion. Washing, however, was still done in the creek, and for potty breaks, they had to run to grandma and grandpa’s house.
Grandma Followill was extremely happy when she saw Claire.
“Honey child, so happy that young Tony got his head screwed back on and realized what’s good for him!” she whispered to Claire. Then, she added, “that skinny one, from that New York place, with her pinched face—she was never my favorite.”
Claire stroked his head and murmured,
“You are strong!”
“I am!” he agreed. “Just you wait!”
She laughed.
“Should I be scared?”
He almost dropped her once they reached their trailer and she scraped her arm on the doorpost, but those where small prices to pay to see him so excited.
Once inside, he left the door slightly open, so they could get some fresh air blowing in. He pulled her close to him and his hot hand slipped under her skirt, his thick fingers digging into the soft flesh of her bottom, while he licked her lower lip, and loosened her hair from a ponytail with his other hand. She raised her arms and he pulled her dress over her head in one swoop motion. Their breathing was labored and it mingled together against their lips, and she inhaled the familiar scent of him, tequila and beer and sunshine. He was looking healthier and better than he had for the past couple of months. Though she wouldn’t tell him that, she wished that he’d take three-four months off, just to recharge and take care of himself. She licked his neck, the salt off of his skin, feeling his pulse beating hard and fast against her tongue. He pushed her to the kitchen counter and rid her of the undergarments in no time—experience came in handy. For a few moments, he stepped back and admired her long, slender body and especially the full breasts, which in his mind fell under the category of “don’t mind if I do…”
She reached for him and squeezed his shoulder, bringing him closer. He stepped towards her, and squatted in front of her, brushing his cheek against her thigh, licking her leg from the knee and upwards. His hands smoothed over her belly and her thighs, and she felt deliciously exposed to him, something that she secretly enjoyed. He kissed her pubic bone, around her navel and then those sharp little teeth pulled on her nipple and she whimpered.
“Ai!” she gasped, when he pulled her breast into his mouth and gave it a hearty lick.
“Hey, don’t puss out on me, girlfriend!”
She rolled her eyes and nodded,
“What if I bit something?”
“You can bite whatever you want,” he allowed, slowly turning her around, kissing her hips and then her back and shoulder blades.
He rose and stood behind her, his hand cupping her soft, wet sex, murmuring into her ear, “I can’t stop loving you…”
“Do you want to stop?” she asked breathlessly.
He gently fondled her, feeding the heat, his other hand resting on her throat, and he kissed her between every word,
“No. Never. Can’t happen.”
“That’s good,” she smiled, and kissed him long and hard, while he urged his thick member inside. His superior weight pressed into her, as his hungry lips wrapped around the spot where her neck met her shoulder. The intense heat from his erection pushed against the walls of her sex, and as his arms wound around her torso, he captured her lips again. When the steady thrusting began to fill her, Claire bucked underneath his chest, only to be pushed back down again. Her heart raced and she felt herself dampen with lustful excitement. Without breaking their staining kiss, he slipped his hand lower and her folds opened as his fingers stroked with measured precision, moistening her even more. The tingling sensation between her thighs wandered up to her breasts and the pink nipples of the supple flesh tightened as if in invitation to be suckled. Caleb slid his head down, under her arm and buried his stubbled cheek in the soft flesh of her breast. He leaned into her, and thrust harder, lifting her leg and putting it up on the counter, so his movements weren’t restricted in any way.
As Claire ripened with pleasure, the need to be filled grew even stronger. It was hot in the tight room, and their skin became sleek and sticky. His breath was warm and heavy as he kissed her, unstoppable now. One hand was mashing her breasts in his big palm, the other was rubbing her swollen clit.
“Caleb… ahhh… ahhh. Please harder, my love…Wahh…this is amazing…” Her voice a breathless whisper, Claire pleaded with him. Caleb found her excitement so appetizing that he grew even harder as he thrust into her wetness with smooth, solid strokes. The inner walls of her womb contracted against him, squeezing him, pushing him. Caleb held her tightly, feeling how she bucked against him with impatience. He was amused at her brazen wantonness and quickly obliged, ramming himself deeper into her.
She wasn’t what he ever expected. As it was always the case with her, his heartbeat raced to an agonizing speed as true pleasure overtook sexual showmanship. His kisses were emotional, and full of love and the intense desire that he always felt for her. As the friction built between them, the urge of release made his movements erratic and rough. Claire dug her nails into his arm, bracing herself against his thrusts. He bent her over the counter, incapable of remaining a loving partner any longer, but turning into a sexual, hungry, needy beast. The edge of cheap Formica countertop ground into her stomach and she stepped back, leaned on her elbows and had him grab her hips and ride her even harder, grinding into her inviting sex in earnest. Her breasts flopped back and forth and she brought one of his hands to her chest, so he could hold them, which he did, without much prodding from her. A sudden burst of colour washed over the room in front of Caleb’s eyes and for a moment, the world filled with all possible pleasures. He pulsed hard and furiously, releasing himself into Claire, filling her to the brim. His member rested inside her for a little while, pleasantly pumped by her vibrating muscles, before he pulled out and turned her around, to face him.
“Oh. My. G-d.,” he muttered and kissed her nipples, as he usually did after they were done.
She smiled and smoothed back his hair.
His arms went around her and he kissed her hard, muttering, “I want more!”
She laughed.
“More? You are very spirited…”
“I am!”
“Can we go for a walk? And then you can have more,” she promised.
“A walk?” his face fell a little, but then he sighed and said, “all right. I guess we can walk. But why do we have to walk, when we can be having sex?”
She shook her head, laughing.
He suddenly let go of her, bust the door full open and went outside, naked and half-erect as he was.
She watched him with some concern, surprise and apprehension from inside the trailer.
He raised his arms and suddenly bellowed loudly,
“I just had great sex!”
A spooked bird hooted somewhere. “Shut up!” came a cry from the darkness. Wolf whistles and applause greeted his announcement.
He turned around and walked back in, as if nothing’s happened.
“All right, let’s go for a walk.”
She threw on her dress, not bothering with underwear, muttering to herself and shaking her head all the while. He was laughing.
“What? What did I do?”
“Every time I think you’ve become more or less normal, you manage to convince me that it’s definitely “less” and not “more”!” she exclaimed.
He caught her by the waist and drew her to him.
Gently stroking her cheek, he threw a lock of her hair over her shoulder and then tenderly kissed her lips, with a long, deep, touching kiss.
“I love you like crazy. I will never be normal. Because I have you, and you make me insane.”
She wrapped her arms tightly about him and he lifted her off the ground and carried her out of the trailer, her legs dangling like those of a little girl. He held her bottom and she wrapped her arms and legs over his body, as he walked slowly down a gravel path.
The night was starry and balmy, full of cicada noise and the smell of smoke and the river.
He strolled down there, to the creek. The scent of night flowers and water permeated the air. Finally setting her down on the ground, he sat down and patted the grass next to him. She threw off her shoes and slipped beside him on the warm ground.
“I really don’t want to go on tour again,” he muttered with ill-concealed disgust.
“I know, honey. I know,” she flipped on her side and propped her cheek on her hand. He slowly stroked her arm and then her neck, slipping inside the dress.
“I am just happy you are coming along,” he decided.
“I am…for a while.”
His eyes narrowed in suspicious confusion.
“What do you mean for a while? And then what?”
She shrugged.
“I’ll travel for as long as I can take it.”
“Well, I hope you can take it!” he exclaimed.
She thought momentarily and said,
“Yeah, I’d say I can do it for about seven months.”
“How do you figure? I mean, I guess…till the end of October. You wouldn’t even have to travel for seven months. It’s already June.”
“Good.”
She took his hand in hers and said, “It will give us a few months to prepare.”
“Prepare for what?”
“The baby I am going to have some time in mid January.”
Caleb’s reaction wasn’t that of extreme surprise or amazement or questions. He’s never been much of a talker. He towered over her and a huge grin blossomed all over his face. She smiled back, relieved and blissfully happy about his reaction. She never had any worries about telling him, but seeing the joy that was written all over his face made her feel elated, and instantly, she fell in love with him all over again, just as she did years ago, when she saw that smile for the very first time.
He buried his head in her neck and his massive hard arms squeezed her tightly.
She kissed him repeatedly and whispered,
“I love you, Caleb Followill. You are a helluva guy. And I think that you will make an amazing daddy and spoil this baby wretchedly.”
“Come on!” he protested, “I’ll run a tight ship!”
She laughed.
“Not a chance. You are going to be a hovering, worrying dad. Everything will be centred around “daddy and baby time”. And you’ll let them gorge on pancakes and ice cream!”
He was shaking with laughter.
“That’s how you see me?”
“Absolutely. No discipline. Only fun, fun, fun.”
He put his head on her stomach, gently cupping her breast in one hand.
She caressed his forehead and hair, smiling at him.
“Jesus…” he finally murmured, “I can’t even believe it…I am going to be a dad, you’ll be a mom. Do you know when?…I mean, when did we…”
“First time, my love, first time. Those tight pants that you wear apparently didn’t diminish the amazing power of your “boys”. Remember when I gave you my pills? Back in April?”
“Yeah…so what, the next time we did it?” he was surprised.
“Yeah…Because then I went back to Chicago.”
“Ahhh, that’s why you haven’t been drinking anything!” it dawned on him. “Every time anyone offers you a drink, you decline! Now I know why.”
She smiled.
His hand squeezed her breast and he fingered her nipple thoughtfully through the material of her dress.
“When are we going to get married?” he wondered. “And don’t try to weasel out of it!” he added sternly.
Claire snorted.
“I am not going to try to weasel out of it! But listen, I really don’t want some shotgun wedding, where I waddle about with a huge belly in a ridiculous white dress, fooling nobody. I mean, I am planning to marry once, and I’d like the wedding to be a memorable event. Something I could plan properly, where I could toast and dance and have a good time. It doesn’t have to be big, but I’d like it to be a normal wedding. And then, a normal honeymoon. So if we have to do it after the baby is born, we’ll do it then. It’s not like anyone thinks that I’ll be a virgin bride!”
He shook his head with disappointment,
“Feels like you are trying to weasel out…But all right. I guess we’ll talk about it as we go. Can’t even fight with you anymore or upset you.”
He leaned over her and kissed her.
“Thank you. All my dreams are coming true, because of you.”
It was surreal to see four boys from Tennessee and Oklahoma play ping-pong with Prince Harry.
The Prince and his entourage arrived backstage after the gigantic O2 Arena concert in London. He was pretty laid back, had a beer with the guys, didn’t put on airs too much and was very chill. Matt was most amazed to see a prince mingling in the crowd. Maybe because of his English fiancée or for some other reason, but he was blown away. Usually he couldn’t be bothered with many after party shenanigans, but this time, he rushed to play ping-pong with Harry, and after the royal had left, Matt dreamily proposed that maybe “one day we’ll be sirs”.
…Claire’s pregnancy was the worst kept secret of all badly kept secrets. Though they did not officially announce their impending parenthood to anyone, most everyone around them suspected that that was the case. It didn’t help matters that Caleb was indeed hovering over her as if she was made of glass. And almost daily deliveries of flowers were somewhat of a give away. Finally, once, Nathan snarled after some argument, “I can’t believe you knocked her up, asshole! You are going to have the first kid of all of us? What the fuck?” Caleb didn’t answer and walked away from the argument. Everyone was very proud of him.
“I like Hannah. And Abigail. What’s wrong with them? These are good names!” Caleb was walking around their vast hotel room, towel thrown over his head.
Claire was lingering in bed, curled up under an ultra-comfortable duvet. It was sunny outside. They had a terrace to themselves, so she figured that she ‘d have breakfast out there.
“They are nice names,” she said pacifically.
He rubbed his head vigorously with the towel. His body was still damp from the shower.
He grew bigger, beefier, and the beard was thick, hiding most of his face.
The more popular the band became, the harder he tried to “hide”. Although he knew that she didn’t appreciate the beard all that much, she also didn’t protest against it. It was a self-preservation method for him. He was beginning to struggle with the huge amount of success that came so quickly at them. What’s more, the one song that brought them the bulk of that adoration was one of his least favourite ones, and he found it very frustrating that his other, much better songs, were completely ignored by the new fans. He liked to view himself as a songwriter, first and foremost, and he struggled with his lyrics, trying to make them more meaningful and interesting and revealing. He wrote and re-wrote, changed, added, subtracted, sometimes struggling for day with one sentence. So when the entire arena rose and roared “yeahhhh, yeahhhh, your sex is on fire!”, and then sat down for “Trani” or “King Of The Rodeo”, he became incensed. But he had to keep it together for his band, for his family, for all those who depended on him for their livelihoods, for his fans and everyone else that hung on to the rafters of this ship. So the beard grew thicker, as did the lines on his face, which grew deeper.
Caleb looked at her with some dissatisfaction and muttered, “but you don’t like it.”
“I didn’t say I don’t like it. I am just not sure how I feel about Biblical names, I already told you.”
Picking children’s names was Caleb’s favourite pursuit.
“What about Emma?” “How about Morgan?” “Maybe we should go simple, and just call him John? No, no John. That’s your dad’s name…Jack? No. I don’t like Jack.” “Victoria?” “Molly?” “Sean. I think I like Sean.” “How about Conan? Conan Followill! That has a ring to it.” “Preston?” “Peyton. Like Peyton Manning. Or too pretentious? But we can also do Eli. Eli Followill.”
She told him that she’d be fine with most names, except for children named after fruits as in Apple, Plum or Peaches, vegetables as in Kale, as well as Poppy. Geographical locations were also out—no to Paris, London, Brooklyn, Tennessee, Bristol, Alabama, Savannah, or Memphis.
“Come here,” she called him softly.
He smiled and came to the bed. She looked very beautiful to him now. Her hair was amazingly lustrous, and the face blossomed with a light blush.
“Come, my honey,” she took his hand and pulled him closer. He stretched over the duvet and put his hand on her face, brushing his thumb over her lips.
“My titties hurt,” she complained.
“How can I make it better?”
“I think that there are a few things that you can do to me that will take my mind off the pain,” she proposed.
“I think I can figure a few things out…”
Claire smiled into the face of the man she loved, and tenderly brushed aside the lock of hair that seemed to be forever falling over his forehead. He even wrote a line about his unruly hair, commemorating it with the words “tugging at my curl”. Caleb slid an arm beneath her shoulders and with the other hand pulled down the straps of her nightgown, baring her breasts. They were beginning to swell already and the sight of their heaviness filled him with unadulterated happiness. Claire circled his neck with one hand, as she begun to stroke his deeply-muscled arms and back. Starting at her temples, he began to kiss her with a slow, measured passion that turned her stomach aflutter. Moving over her eyes, her nose, her cheeks, and finally her lips, he kissed her steadily, savouring the feel and taste of her, the warmth of the cheeks, the softness of the mouth. He was gentle now…not permitting himself any excesses or rough and tumble shags against a wall. Yet she enjoyed it, the newfound tenderness, and his overall attentiveness. She moaned softly, burying her face against his shoulder, shuddering when his rough palm cupped her breast and the inside of it, the calluses, scraped against her nipple. He smiled at her, his beautiful sky-blue eyes narrowing with desire as he nuzzled her neck, gently squeezing the breasts, teasing her mouth with the tip of his tongue. Languorously, she moved her hand to his chest, where she slowly circled over the fuzz of his hair, putting a bit more pressure on his nipple with each pass of her fingers. He moved his body a little away from hers, to give her better reach while closing his eyes from the pleasure she is giving him. She nestled against him and let her tongue create slow circles around his chest and over his hardened nipples. As Caleb’ breathing became heavier and his embrace tighter, she glided her fingers across the tautness of his lower stomach just above the patch of dark hair.
Claire could see how relaxed he became. It was a good feeling, to have him come out of his shell a bit, forget the world, concentrate on something pleasant, on her, on what he loved. They were in Rotterdam, in another hotel, and later on in the evening, he’d have to entertain huge crowds of people. Again. And it was nice to know that with her, he found solace, a peace of mind and happiness.
She felt him stiffen against her belly and reached down to stroke him tenderly in the places she knew he liked best. With a deep moan of pleasure and of want, Caleb turned her onto her back and with his tongue and agonizingly drawn-out kisses on her breasts, he hardened her nipples almost to the point of pain. Seeing her body respond to him, his fingers entered her and slowly, maddeningly he slid in and out, pushing deeper into her with each stroke. It fascinated him to touch her there, deep inside. She even had to assure him a few times that he could not touch or harm the baby, either with his fingers or with his member. His knowledge of anatomy wasn’t his strongest point. Her back arched and she slid onto his hand, grabbing the back of his neck tightly. Now eyes locked on each other, a silent signal passing between them, and her legs opened to receive him. He kissed her hard, his tongue lapping on hers, big hands tangling in her hair. Claire grasped his back, her nails digging into his flesh as he entered, pushing all at once, gently at first. His bearded face brushed over her shoulders and neck, as he covered her with kisses, holding her close to him.
“How are the titties?” he murmured with a smile.
“You can do a lot better,” she answered primly.
He burst out laughing and nodded.
Pushing himself up over her, he then thrust deeper and more urgently, lifting her knees higher up and then he licked on her breasts, which swayed irresistibly with every push of his member. As their rhythm matched stroke for stroke she could feel the muscles in his back and shoulders tighten as he drove harder into her. Claire held his head to her breasts, savouring every movement of his body, her eyes closed, trying to do all she could to keep herself back until he was ready. She secretly liked how the beard felt on the tender skin of her breasts, coupled with the sharpness of his sucking and his teeth. He felt a lot bigger on top of her, and the sensation of heaviness and girth extended to his penis, which seemed to stretch her to the fullest.
“Oh my G-d,” she cried, biting his neck, “I can’t….”
“Come, my love,” he urged her, “come all over me. I want to watch you, beautiful.”
He glided effortlessly and smoothly in her, making it absolutely impossible for her to keep from reacting the way he wanted her to. With a shudder and ragged breath meeting ragged breath, they finished one into the other, locked in each other’s arms. She gave him what he liked best; her body arching beneath his in the throes of climaxes.
Caleb rolled off her and kissed her breasts and her stomach.
“That was not half bad,” he exclaimed.
She stretched and growled with pleasure.
“Not at all.”
He looked at his watch and whistled.
“Oh, I have press to do. Fucking great.”
In a couple of minutes, he got up and went to dress.
“It’s really hot today,” he warned, “I don’t know if you should even come to the concert.”
“I want to come to the concert!” she protested.
He came to the bed and took her foot, pressing it to his chest.
“You look so hot lately…Seriously, that’s all I can think about. I’ve gotten a boner the other night, on stage!”
She burst out laughing.
“It’s not funny!” he muttered.
“No, it is.”
“And by the way,” he added, “we are having a boy!”
“Is that so? And how do you figure, Dr. Followill?” she inquired.
“Well, I remember back when we were in church, I’d overhear conversations between ladies, at picnics or whatever, and they’d say that if someone is pregnant and they don’t have morning sickness, they are having a boy. And also, if the mother looks beautiful, and not like a truck ran over her, she is having a boy. Because girls take their mother’s beauty, and boys don’t. So there.”
“I would love to have a boy,” she smiled. “Or a girl.”
He was ready to go leave. Claire went to the balcony. It really was very hot today. From their room, she could see all of Rotterdam.
“What are you going to do today?” he asked, bringing her a glass of orange and pineapple smoothie.
“Oh, I don’t know…something, I am sure. Sightseeing, maybe.”
He didn’t comment, but knew that she wasn’t telling him the whole truth.
In fact, Claire was summoned by Jared to meet and spend some time with his new obsession, Jacqueline. Things weren’t going well with Alisa, and Jared couldn’t concentrate on anything other than seducing Jackie. But it was slow going, because “Jackie is like you!” complained Jared to Claire. “Like me? How?” Jared didn’t have a problem confiding to Claire, because she wasn’t judgemental, and she didn’t like Alisa much. “Basically…she is a cocktease. She is hot and totally awesome, but she…” he stopped. “What? Wouldn’t give you any?” Claire laughed. Jared shrugged with annoyance.
Jackie had a smouldering, Southern Italian voluptuousness going for her, big eyes, full lips, curves in all the right places, dark hair. Jared was right to be enthralled. But he also wanted to keep the progression of his conquest a secret, especially from Caleb. Caleb’s reactions were sometimes unpredictable, and Caleb was very stressed with the tour lately. So Jared didn’t want to add fuel to fire, especially when nothing with Jackie was solidified, and he was still officially engaged.
“Hey! Caleb is out?” Jared snuck behind her.
“Yeah, he is out.”
Claire was in the hotel cafe, reading a book and drinking mineral water.
“You are like Jackie Kennedy,” said Jared, sliding in the chair in front of her.
“I am?”
“Yeah, you are quiet, you read and you are classy.”
She chuckled and put her book aside.
Jared ordered a drink and said,
“That’s it.”
She waited for an explanation.
“I think I will end it with Alisa.”
“Big decision,” said Claire. “Are you sure?”
“Even if it’s not Jackie, it will be someone else. I am over Alisa.”
“Make sure that you think with your head, not your cock, Jared,” warned Claire.
He run his fingers through his hair and exclaimed,
“What am I supposed to do? I am really attracted to this girl! Now just sexually, but also mentally. She makes me laugh. She kind of….takes care of me. Like you, with Caleb. Like, you’ll do his laundry. Or you’ll bring him a beer if he is tired. You’ll come and kiss his head if he is sad…I want that too. With Jackie, I get that. She doesn’t give me any, but she is so gentle and so loving with me. I just remember how it was when you were falling for Caleb. It was the sweetest thing to watch, even if both of you didn’t even realize it.”
Claire smiled.
Yeah, she probably looked ridiculous back then—totally besotted, wide eyed, completely taken with that man. She still was, in fact, she was a lot more taken with him now than ever before. She just hoped that she didn’t look as stupid now as she did then.
“You know that at the end, Jackie might not give you what you are seeking, right?” she asked me cautiously.
Shaking his head stubbornly, Jared said, “when you know, you know.”
It was a busy rest of the day.
Glasvegas played too long. Caleb was angry. The sound was off. The audience was bad. The only reaction the band got was when they played “Sex on Fire”. At one point, Caleb snarled “Get the fuck up!” It was miserably hot. He gave a ridiculously sexual performance of “Crawl”—another example of his head not being in the right place. Claire observed from the side of the stage. At least he didn’t get an erection. The band, pressed for time and disappointed with the lousy crowd had to scrap the encore and left the stage, as well as the inhospitable Rotterdam in a hurry. That evening, they caught a flight to Belgium, for Rock Werchter. There, Alisa, of all people, was waiting for them—she came to surprise Jared.
In bed at last, Caleb kissed Claire. She was tired. He took her in his arms and she laid her head on his shoulder.
“People are breaking up…making up…make babies…marry…get engaged…get unengaged…” she muttered.
They heard shouting coming from Jared’s rooms. Caleb had to get up and turn on the fan, so that the background noise would drown out the noise of the fight. Sounded like Jared really was breaking up with Alisa.
Caleb returned to bed and slid under the covers. He was fairly undisturbed by the screaming and tears and please.
“Because of the times, babe, because of the times.”
