OVULATED: Pregnancy Romance Collection

by Snow Novels

  Is lobster simple?

  "Of course," I said, hoping my cheeks weren't as flushed as they felt.

  Something strange was happening to me. I felt my toes start to tingle. Cameron's chest was wide and thick and I longed to push his shirt back and see the wall of muscles lurking underneath. The tingle crept from my toes up to my ankles, past my thighs, and stopped around my midsection where it lingered as Cameron spoke.

  "Is your room satisfactory?" he asked.

  "Oh yes," I said, a little too much enthusiasm ringing in my voice. "It's beautiful." I felt myself wanting to gush and tried to pull it back. "I mean... I've never even seen a room as beautiful as the one you've given me. Is there..." But how do you ask your employer whether or not the room he's given you is part of a deal you've made to be his sex toy?

  "Why was it you needed me to come here so quickly tonight?" I asked, remembering James's phone call.

  "I have..." he hesitated so long that I thought he might not answer. Eventually he said, "I have certain needs, and when they arise, I cannot wait. I need them taken care of immediately."

  My breath caught in my throat; I had to force myself to make my lungs work again. Cameron's eyes shimmered like water, and every time I looked away they pulled me back like a fisherman reeling in his catch. The heat that had settled across my midsection expanded now, sinking lower into my abdomen and across my thighs, and at the same time rising to my head. A bead of sweat ran down my temple and my heart hammered in my chest. If I didn't get out of here soon, I was afraid I might fling myself across the table and grab Cameron by the collar as I pressed my mouth to his. I'd probably terrorize the poor guy rather than excite him.

  "Do you mind if I go back to my room now?" I asked. "I'm not feeling very well." I had already risen from my chair when Cameron said, "No." It was sharp and commanding and I felt my knees buckle. At once anger rose up in me, followed immediately by a deep desire to press my lips against his and taste his skin.

  "No?" I asked.

  "I cannot permit you to return to your room yet. You are here for a reason, and I need you to fulfill your obligation to me."

  My obligation? Sex. That was the only thing he could possibly mean. What have I gotten myself into? My knees gave out and I fell into the chair. I had a decision to make, and fast.

  Chapter 6

  I sat in the chair holding my breath, waiting for him to say the words: I want you. Instead, Cameron stood from the table and offered me his hand. I didn't get it. Why would this guy—rich, sexy, and strangely sweet—need to pay anyone for sex? A million women should be throwing themselves at his feet.

  "Please come with me," he said, as I took his hand and stood from the chair. His touch was electric on my skin. Long unseen tendrils of a substance I could not identify, but which I thought was responsible for the thudding of my heart, flowed from his fingertips to mine. He clasped his hand around mine just for a second to pull me up, and my thighs clenched tight with anticipation of something further.

  Stop it! What are you thinking? I heard the voice in my head, sounding much like my mother's, and tried to dismiss it. But the continuous nagging I'd grown up with was not so easy to put a stop to. My mother loved me, but she was also a lot like my stepsister. It was probably the reason they had gotten along so well. Stop eating! You're too fat! Marry the first man that'll take you, 'cause you won't get many options.

  "Are you alright?" Cameron asked. I realized I was still holding his hand, staring into space at the ever present memories of my mother's insults.

  "Fine," I said, withdrawing my hand from his. I felt a cold spot crawl over my skin and wished for the warmth his hand provided me. "Where are we going?" I asked.

  "Just follow me."

  Then he turned and led me out of the room. I needed a map of this place if I was ever going to find my way around. I couldn't believe this was an apartment and not a house. One hallway led to another, which led to another, and so on. We passed a massive library with books on ancient mythology and folklore, and another room that seemed to serve as home for some sort of collection. Swords and daggers lined the walls. I was about to ask Cameron what it all was when he stopped in front of a metal door that ran from the floor to the ceiling. It had some sort of security keypad with flickering lights on the wall next to it.

  "What is this?" I asked, wondering what could be hidden behind this door that would require such a strong guard to keep it out. Or in.

  Cameron didn't say anything, he just punched the buttons on the keypad.

  "Five, five, one, nine, two," he said, looking at me with deliberate seriousness. "Say the numbers back to me."

  "Five, five, one, nine, two," I repeated. It wasn't very complex.

  "Good. Do not forget it. You'll need it in the morning."

  "Why? What happens in the—"

  But before I could finish asking the door opened. My face grew ashen. Against my better judgement, I stepped into the room. A massive bed dominated everything. It had luxurious pillows and satin sheets... and a set of handcuffs drilled into the wall behind it. There was a set of chains attached to them, so that whoever was handcuffed could move about to some extent. They didn't have to hold their arms over their head.

  The rest of the room included things like whips, daggers, and something that looked like a handcuff for your neck. I backed away. Cameron was cute, but he was out of his mind if he thought I was going to go along with this.

  "No way," I said, shaking my head. "Uh uh. You hired the wrong girl. I'm not into this sort of thing, and if you are that's your business, but I'm leaving."

  Cameron stared at me with a hurt expression. "I haven't even told you what I need from you. Won't you at least listen?"

  "Oh I can see what you need..."

  Understanding hit Cameron's face so hard it was like he'd gotten punched. "You quite misunderstand Abbey; this is not for you, it is for me."

  I stopped moving towards the door. "What do you mean?"

  "I need you to lock me up. Tonight and every night, by ten o'clock at the latest. And you cannot return for me until six in the morning."

  I started to laugh but there was anguish in his eyes. His face was pale and it looked like he might pass out if I left him alone now.

  "I don't understand."

  He went to the bed and sat on it. Then he stretched his hands out and motioned for me to come to him. I walked slowly to the bed, unable to believe this was really happening. Maybe it's some weird fetish.

  "Please," he whispered. "This is your job. Your only job. Lock me up at night. Let me out in the morning. I may need you for other things during the day, but I cannot say exactly what or when. You need to be near me, always. Please. I don't know what else to do."

  The hesitation I'd felt melted as his eyes watered. I reached out and snapped the cuffs around his wrists. They were thick and heavy and I was terrified of what this all meant. Maybe he's crazy.

  "Now go," he said. "And remember. Six o'clock. Not before then."

  I left him alone in the room, uncertain whether I was helping him or hurting him more.

  Chapter 7

  I passed a restless night on the most comfortable bed I'd ever laid on. But the soft mattresses brought no relaxation knowing that deep inside the house Cameron was chained to a wall. I got up at least a dozen times during the night, intent on going back to his room and opening the door. I didn't care if I was fired, what if he was in trouble? What if he was thirsty? I couldn't really be expected to just leave a man chained to a wall for the night, could I?

  Finally, my brain grew so tired thinking everything over that my eyes closed and I fell asleep. I dreamed of Cameron. We were making love in the same bed that I'd strapped him to the night before. The dream was so real that beads of sweat broke out over my body and soaked my sheets.

  When I finally opened my eyes light was running in through the windows, hitting them with the soft rays of early morning, and my phone's alarm was blaring bugle music at me. I turned it off
and didn't even dress. I ran down the stairs, still in my pajamas, and punched the key into the wall.

  Cameron sat with his back to the wall, his clothes ripped to shreds. I sucked air into my lungs and forced my feet to move towards him. "Cameron?" I shouted. "Are you okay?"

  His eyes looked towards me, black and venomous. I actually backed away from him, then his eyes were normal again—soft and kind and seductive. The change happened so quickly that for a moment I thought I'd imagined the poison I'd seen there.

  He didn't say a word, just sort of hung there with his arms and head limp. I pulled the key from my pocket and undid his cuffs. They fell to the bed with a loud thud and he collapsed against the pillows.

  "Oh God," I said. "Cameron I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I never should have left you here!" Blood trickled across his chest, which was bare, as was the rest of him... Whatever had shredded his clothes had left him completely naked, and I averted my eyes as best I could, but I had to check the rest of him. The blood on his chest indicated that he might be injured.

  "Cameron say something. Where are you hurt?" That flash of anger was back in his eyes, then disappeared just as quickly.

  "I need you," he whispered. "Now."

  "Of course, just tell me what—"

  Then he was on his knees on the mattress, pulling me to him. His mouth pressed against mine, and I felt a surge of passion like I'd had the other night at dinner. "Cameron, you're hurt. You're not thinking."

  But his mouth just pressed even harder. I felt myself resist, but only barely. His hands ran over my pajamas, which were thin silk ones that I'd found in a drawer in my room. His hands were hot—not just warm, they were burning—and I wondered if he had a fever. His tongue moved over my neck, tasting me. I tasted him back. He was even sweeter than the wine he'd given me at dinner.

  Then just as fast as it had begun, he was pushing me away.

  "I'm sorry," he said.

  I was panting. "It's... it's okay." I tried to lift myself off the bed and failed. Cameron seemed more embarrassed by the kiss than by his own nakedness.

  "I just..." There were angry tears in his voice. "I don't know what else to do. I don't know how else to stop the anger... the rage... it's blinding me."

  The pain in his eyes grabbed a hold of my heart, and in that instant I knew I'd do anything for him. "It's okay," I told him. "Really." None of what he said made any sense. He really is crazy. Maybe there was a specialist I could call. A doctor. Someone who could really help him.

  "You should go," he said. "I'll be fine now. Thank you. And it won't happen again. You have my word."

  I nodded, trying to hide my disappointment. "Are you sure you don't need anything right now?" I asked. "A doctor?" I was eyeing the blood on his chest. He waved a hand, dismissing me, and I got off the bed, leaving the room before he could see the frustrated tears brimming my eyes.

  Chapter 8

  The strangeness of the situation became routine. Every night, ten o' clock. Every morning, six o'clock. Once, I asked James why he didn't just handle Cameron's lock down every night. His only reply was a soft smile and a shrug. Auditions became pointless—I wasn't allowed to leave. The agent I had, who was really some guy working out of a restaurant booth, dropped me. If I couldn't even hold onto the bottom of the barrel agent, how was I ever going to get the top rung of the ladder agent?

  Cameron seemed oblivious to everything. He walked around in a kind of daze. Some days he was nice to me and I felt a strange connection with him, like he was the answer to a question I hadn't asked. Other days he snapped at me like I was some sort of prison guard, and he was my prisoner. I found that particularly ironic, considering that I was the one not allowed to leave the house.

  The one time I tried to leave, James had stopped me at the front door. "Going somewhere?" he asked.

  I jumped and my cheeks blushed, like I was doing something wrong. "I just wanted to run to the store," I told him.

  "Make a list. I'll send out for whatever you need."

  "Why can't I just go myself?"

  "Because Mr. Sterling needs you here. That is what he is paying you for."

  I had to admit, the steady flux of checks over the last couple of weeks had been nice. I couldn't remember the last time I'd made money working, and it felt good to have something in the bank. Of course, the majority of it had immediately gone to Emma for back rent that I owed her. I might not have paid her, but my mom had raised hell when Emma called her and spilled the beans about my moving out.

  "How could you be so stupid? You were safe with your sister, now you're on the streets like some hooker."

  "Mom, I'm not a hooker."

  "Then what are you doing? Emma says you couldn't even afford the $600 she was charging you. You expect me to believe that you're living on your own somewhere?"

  Our fight had escalated until I'd finally given her my new address and promised, in an effort to soothe her worries, to pay Emma every cent I owed her as soon as possible. It was with this in mind that I sat down to breakfast with Cameron this morning. His five o' clock shadow covered his face like a mask of dirt.

  "What?" he snapped when he caught me looking at him.

  "Nothing," I said. "You look tired, that's all."

  "Well I'm not paying you to judge how I look. I'm paying you to keep your mouth shut and do as I say."

  My phone rang just then, which was either perfect timing or the exact opposite, depending on how you looked at it. I didn't recognize the number. I wondered if it might be my ex-agent, calling to make up, then realized I couldn't accept the audition even if it was because of Cameron's crazy rules.

  "Hello?" I said. Maybe it was time I showed him that I'm my own boss, instead of letting him walk all over me. I might just take the audition, whatever it was, and see how he handles things without me.

  "Abbey?" It was an unexpected voice, sensuous and husky. "This is Richard. Deena's friend. We met a couple of weeks ago at the audition for The Dancing Cavalier... I'm not sure if you remember me?"

  My heart thumped once, loudly, before resuming its natural beat. Cameron looked up at me. "Oh, yeah. Hi, of course I remember you. Um, how'd you get my number?" I felt Cameron's eyes digging into me and got up from the table.

  "Deena. She asked your sister for it."

  "Oh. Step-sister, actually."

  "Oh." There was silence for a minute and I wondered if I was blowing whatever was happening here. I couldn't remember the last time a guy had called me. Finally, he resumed talking and I resume breathing.

  "Well, I was hoping that maybe later we could have dinner together. Or something."

  I hesitated. Cameron was following me with his eyes as I walked around the room.

  "Sure," I said, "sounds fun. Um... did you have something in mind?"

  "I thought we could meet in front of Schmale's Deli. Off Fifth. Do you know it?"

  "Yeah, I do. Sure, that sounds fine."

  "Great. How's seven?"

  "Perfect." My heart was speed racing and I couldn't shake the feeling that I was betraying Cameron somehow by making the date. But that was ridiculous. His moods were too unpredictable. One minute spicy and hot, the next he was an ogre. "Um, I've gotta run, but I'll see you tonight, okay?"

  I hung up and turned to Cameron. "What?" I snapped.

  "You can't go out," he said.

  "Oh yeah?"

  "It's part of your contract."

  "I don't have a contract Cameron. I only have a verbal agreement, and it's one that I never even agreed to. You don't own me."

  He stared at me a moment longer. "Fine, do as you will, but don't bother coming back if you go meet that man tonight."

  I was too upset to think clearly. "Fine," I snapped. "Consider this my resignation." I stormed upstairs and away from Cameron before I could make an even bigger fool out of myself.

  Chapter 9

  Richard showed up late, but he looked so amazing I instantly forgave him. Dark hair against a light green shirt and
jeans. It was the sort of "casual sexy" look only a few guys pulled off well. We walked around the city for a while, stopping to look in the windows of shops and enjoying the night air.

  It was nice to get out, but I couldn't stop thinking about Cameron. It was nine o' clock. I'd left the house in a huff, my mind set that I would show him he couldn't control me. The truth was, I was worried. What would happen if I wasn't there at ten? Would he flip out? Would James lock him up?

  I asked Richard if he was hungry, thinking maybe we'd get some food and I could get my mind off Cameron.

  "Not really," he said, sounding bored.

  "Oh." We walked around some more, and I started to wonder if this was even a date.

  My phone buzzed and I looked down to read a text from Cameron: I NEED YOU. PLZ COME BACK.

  Well, I guessed that meant I wasn't fired after all. "It's my boss," I told Richard, even though Cameron wasn't just my boss. People didn't care about their bosses like I cared about Cameron. They didn't fantasize about them and resign themselves to in-house detention just to be near them.

  "I'm sorry," I told Richard. "I've gotta go."

  "That's okay," he said. "You gotta make a living. What if I go with you?"

  I was about to say no, but I'd been so lonely over the last couple of weeks. Cameron barely paid attention to me.

  "Okay," I said. "Why not?"

  It was almost ten by the time we got there. I'd gotten the handcuff routine down to a science. I could have Cameron cuffed and locked up in five minutes flat. We could hang out in the TV room and watch a movie or something. Cameron's TV room was more like a movie theatre. It would make for the perfect date.

  When I opened the door to Cameron's building and the guard greeted me with a smile Richard's jaw dropped.

  "Your boss lives here?"

  "Yep. Nice huh?"

  We got off the elevator and I pulled my key from my coat. When I didn't see James I decided it was safe.

  "Come on," I said, leading Richardinside. "You can hang out here. I just need to take care of something, I'll only be a minute."