by B. B. Hamel
I pull my mind out of the gutter as I move through the office. The space is pretty packed with cubicles and people moving around. It’s honestly probably too small for how big we’ve grown, and I know I need to find a bigger space, but that keeps getting pushed onto the backburner. That can’t last too much longer, though. It’s practically bursting full at the seams here.
The real reason I haven’t wanted to find a new space is actually outside in the main office park. I leave our suite and head down a hall, walking toward the other side of the building. I pass a few familiar places, like the paper company and the refrigerator company, before finally stopping at the last door at the other end, on the mirror side of the building from our office. I smile to myself as I open the door and step inside.
The women know me here. Cathy smiles and nods as I move into the room. Everything is so small, brightly-colored and soft here, and little kids are scattered all over. They’re all different ages, from diapers up to sneakers, but I’m here for one munchkin, the only munchkin that matters to me.
I spot her over near this padded, circular space with another boy around her age. They’re building a block tower, and as I walk over, she looks up and a smile tears across her face. I love that smile more than anything in the world, and I reflect again how I almost missed out on it.
“Mommy!”
She reaches out and I scoop her up. She’s so damn heavy now. I remember when she was just a little thing, barely ten pounds and I could easily cradle her in my arms. Now she’s enormous, squirmy, and skinny, but at least she still laughs when I lift her high into the air.
“How’s my baby doing?” I ask.
“Playing,” she says, squirming some more.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes,” she says. “Playing blocks.”
I put her down and she goes back into her spot. Her focus shifts back to what she was doing. The other little boy doesn’t even look at me as he adds another block to his tower.
“Okay, well, be good, Millie,” I say.
“Yes, Mommy,” she recites.
I smile and stand up, stretching a bit. I love that there’s a daycare right in our building and I can visit my daughter whenever I feel like it. I nod at the other ladies as I leave again, heading back to the office and my real work, feeling refreshed. All I needed was to see Millie’s smile.
I knew I wasn’t going to give her away as soon as we started Solarhenge, but I didn’t admit it to Aaron until I was in my third trimester. I remember how much he laughed to cover up the tears in his eyes as he scooped me up, careful not to crush me too hard as he hugged me tight. We had sex that night, like we did and still do most nights, and I remember it was something else. Something special, because we both knew what was coming now.
We were going to be parents, and we were going to do it together.
That seems like so long ago, I reflect as I head into my office. I leave the door slightly ajar as I lower myself down into my chair behind my desk with a little sigh. I have a lot of work to do as the Chief Technology Officer. I need to start building and approving new designs for our second-generation panels and batteries, but all that can wait, at least for a little while.
I lean back in my chair and close my eyes, smiling a bit. I probably look like a loon, but I try to do this every day.
I think about how successful we’ve become, how our panels are expensive but are quickly becoming the gold standard in solar technology. I think about how we’ve already covered Steve’s initial investment, although he’s already talking about dumping more money into our manufacturing. I think about my family, my husband and my baby, and how I wouldn’t have any of this if it weren’t for him.
I hear my door push open and I peek out one eye.
“Doing that thing again?” Aaron asks me.
“I was just thinking about you,” I say, opening both eyes and smiling.
“Of course you were. You’re thinking about the most amazing perfect things in your life, so naturally I’d be at the top of that list.”
I laugh and shake my head, but he’s right. He walks over to me and leans forward, kissing me softly. “Thanks for letting me catch up with Davis,” he says softly.
“That’s okay. I figured you’d need it. Plus, I got to go see Millie.”
“How’s she doing?”
“Still playing with that Bentley kid.” I make a face.
He laughs gently. “They’re kids. It’ll be fine.”
“I know, I know.” I reach up and kiss him one more time. I’ll never, ever get over doing that.
“We have a call with Indonesia in a few minutes,” he says. “Want to take it in here?”
“No, I’ll meet you in the conference room.”
“Okay, sounds good.” He hesitates. “You sure you’re all good? You usually do that thing when you’re having a hard day.”
“Today I’m doing it because I’m happy,” I say, smiling up into his handsome face. “Is that so wrong?”
“Nope,” he says. “That’s perfect.”
He kisses me one more time and leaves my office. I sit there and watch him as he goes, grinning like a moron.
This is my life now. I’m the CTO of a quickly rising company, I’m the wife of a perfect man, and I’m a mother. I never knew I wanted to be a mother or a wife or even a CTO for that matter, but I’m learning to embrace what I am and be happy.
It hasn’t been hard to learn, fortunately. Aaron makes it easy, every day, every night, every second. I didn’t give up anything for this.
With Aaron, I gained absolutely everything.
Want another Miracle?
I was too broken to have a baby.
Until my best friend put me back together and got me pregnant.
When I met Will Eaton, I was a mess.
He listened to me. He held my hand. Slowly, I came out of my shell, and we were best friends ever since.
At least until one night when we finally gave in to our desires and he got me pregnant. The doctors all told me that I’d never have a baby, but clearly they never met Will. He gave me a little miracle and one of the best nights of my life.
But as soon as I find out, Will leaves for two years. He joins a professional hockey team in Europe, and it’s like I’m torn to shreds all over. I keep my daughter a secret and vow never to speak to him again.
Two years pass, and now he’s back. I hate him, but I still dream about his athletic body pressing me down on the bed. I dare you to pretend like you don’t love this…
I can’t let him near my daughter. He abandoned us, even if he didn’t know about her.
I’m too afraid to let him in. But I can’t help the way I feel when he’s around.
I want another taste of that night, and I know he’s going to give it to me.
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I can’t get pregnant, but that won’t stop him from trying.
David Carlson is rich, handsome, and brilliant. He’s so far out of my league that it’s not even funny. And during our one and only night together, he does the impossible.
I’m not supposed to be able to get pregnant, but David somehow makes it happen. The doctors told me it was impossible, but obviously they were wrong.
Years later, I end up working for David’s company. But I never told him about his daughter.
So when he comes to me with a business proposition, it takes me totally off guard.
He says he wants a family, and he’ll pay me two million dollars to give him a baby.
It won’t happen again, it’s just not possible, but I can’t walk away from this opportunity. I’m a single mom and I need the money.
Plus, night after night of passion with this man won’t be the worst thing in the world. I still dream about his body, even years later. I haven’t felt so good since.
I have David’s perfect baby already, but he can’t ever know about her. I’m terrified he’ll learn the truth and take my daughter away from me. He’s rich and powe
rful enough to make it happen.
One night of passion with David gave me a baby. Several months of passion might give me so much more than that, if only I can give myself over to him completely.
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Or try…
Every doctor told me I’d never have a baby. But after just one night, I’m pregnant with his little miracle.
Elias Weaver is the kind of guy I should avoid. He's the mayor's son, and his bad boy reputation makes me nervous. But I put all that aside for just one night, and I make the best mistake of my life.
He gets me pregnant. It's a one-in-a-million chance, but of course it happens to me.
I’m having his miracle baby, but I’m not sure that I’m ready to be a mother.
We barely know each other. He’s handsome, cocky, funny, and completely blew my mind in bed, but I’m drowning in debt and barely able to take care of myself.
He wants to step up and be a father. More than that, he wants me. I decided to give my baby up for adoption, but he’s starting to make me reconsider.
Everything about him drives me wild. His touch, his stare, the way he laughs as his hands slide down my back.
He’s not letting go without a fight. He’s going to remind me why I gave myself to him that first night.
If he keeps touching me, I just might give him everything he wants and more.
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Bind: A Dark Romance
1
Noah
The house is empty and dark, just as I knew it would be. Weeks of painful and difficult surveillance led to this moment, and I know that the moment I’ve been looking forward to is quickly approaching.
I’m a solitary man. I’ve spent most of my life alone. Although I’ve been with plenty of women just for one night, none of them have ever satisfied me before. Nothing satisfies me like the hunt. Nothing quiets the screaming need inside of me like the kill.
It’s impossible to explain how I ended up this way. Maybe it was because of what I saw as a kid. There was blood, so much blood, and I remember touching it with my fingers. I remember touching her skin with my fingers, willing her to get up, begging her to breathe again.
It doesn’t matter how I ended up like this, not really. All I know is I am the way I am and nothing can change me. I take what I want because I have to. If I didn’t, the world might be an even worse place.
I have rules. I live by the rules and so far I haven’t gotten caught. Nobody has even come close to catching me. Why would they? I’m popular playboy Noah Black. I’m rich and successful, and that’s enough for most people. Nobody bothers looking too closely.
That’s how I want it. I give the world the Noah that they want, but the real me is the man lurking in this house right now, creeping over the floorboards.
The house is a mess. My target, Rick Jones, isn’t exactly interested in keeping up appearances. He’s a drunk, a junkie, an asshole, and a minor thief. But none of that is why he came onto my radar. Rick seems like an everyday, run of the mill douchebag, but he’s actually much worse than that.
Rick is a lot like me, actually. Instinctively I know that I’m very similar to my victims. The difference is, they do fucked up and horrible things while I simply pick them off one by one, sating my screaming need.
But we both show a face to the world while hiding our true colors. The face Rick chooses is a racist, violent asshole, but still a lovable working class kind of guy. Sure, he’s rough and rugged and drinks too much, but can you blame him? He works hard down at the mill and he deserves to blow off some steam. Life has been tough to Rick Jones.
That’s what he wants you to think. That’s the mask he wears and he wears it well. But I’ve seen through his mask.
I step over a pile of old newspapers. Rick lives in an old row home in the north side of town in a pretty rough neighborhood. The kitchen is a mess, the living room is practically covered in garbage, and if I didn’t know better I’d suspect a hoarder lives in this house. His television room is surprisingly neat, or maybe unsurprisingly, since he spends all his time in there watching football and drinking beer when he’s not out at his local bar telling bullshit stories.
Or trying to rape thirteen-year-old girls.
I slowly creep up the steps. I can feel the backpack weighing heavily on my back, but I can’t afford to leave that behind. My pack is part of my rules. I’m always prepared for a kill, no matter where it happens. I can’t get sloppy, or else bad things will happen to me.
I reach down and feel the large knife in the sheath on my belt. It’s reassuring, powerful. I’ve taken a lot of lives with this knife. I’ve killed over eighty scumbags in my short career, which might be a record if someone was keeping track of that sort of thing. Eighty-two pieces of shit that I meticulously stalked, watched, and researched before finally going in for the perfect kill. Over eighty successful outings.
This is going to be eighty-three. I can feel it in my bones. It’s around two in the morning and Rick just got back from the bar, which means he’s stinking drunk. He should be in the shower by now, since he always gets in the shower before passing out in bed. As I get to the top of the stairs, I can hear the water running, and I smile to myself.
Another perfectly planned kill.
I creep to the bathroom door and slowly turn the knob. It opens without any resistance. Steam piles out of the room as I step into the light.
Rick hums to himself behind the white curtain. My heart begins to beat faster, anticipating the moment. I quietly put my pack on the floor and gently close the door behind me. Silently, I pull out my knife and step toward the curtain.
Rick is blissfully unaware that his time on earth is about to come to an end. I could practically shout, I’m so damn starving. The screaming need inside of me rages against my self-control, but I have to keep it at bay. I can’t afford any more screw-ups.
I stand at the curtain, knife drawn. This is the moment. This is what I’ve been waiting for. I pull it back and Rick stares at me, shock on his face. I stare back at his old, naked, flabby body and smile at him.
“Remember Louisa Reyes?” I ask him.
“Who the fuck are you?” he sputters at me.
“Remember Louisa Reyes?” I ask again.
He finally notices my knife and recoils from me. “What the fuck? What do you want? I have money.”
“Louisa Reyes.”
“The Hispanic bitch. I mean, Mexican girl. I mean, yeah. I know her.”
I smile at him. “I know you do.”
I plunge my knife into his chest. He gasps and stares at it, uncomprehending, and then slowly sinks down the wall and into the tub.
The water sprays against his body, washing his blood down the drain as his life leaves him. I stand there watching, the screaming need inside of me finally feeling satisfied.
I take a deep breath and let it out. It had been too long since my last kill. This one felt so damn good.
The sound of the bathroom door opening shocks even me, the man who is always prepared.
She’s probably in her early twenties, pale with green eyes and gorgeous thick dark hair. She’s beautiful but wearing ratty clothing and has a black eye.
The girl looks at me then looks at Rick.
“Dad?” she ask
s softly.
Fuck. He has a daughter.
She looks at me, back to her father again, and then turns to run.
2
Amelia
My face aches where my father punched me the day before. I touch it gingerly, looking in the mirror. It’s already turning black and blue, which isn’t too surprisingly. I’ve had plenty of black eyes over the years living with Rick and this probably isn’t the worst one.
My father is a piece of shit. Everyone knows it. There’s no question about Rick Jones. The neighborhood tolerates him because he’s charismatic and can fool some people into thinking he’s not just a total waste of space, but the truth is, my father is a very bad man.
I had a mother once too, a long time ago, but she’s gone now. Died of a heroin overdose when I was six. I can still remember walking into their bedroom and watching my father trying to wake her up, trying to bring her back, but failing.
He went downhill after that, though I guess he probably wasn’t great back then either. I went to high school for a little while, but when I turned sixteen he demanded that I drop out and get a job to help support myself. I did, of course, because I was a stupid kid back then and had no clue what I was doing.
Now, I’m twenty-two, I work at Rite Aid, and I have no education. I’m a nothing in a shit neighborhood with an abusive asshole father, and that’s all I’ll ever be.
I live in a prison. I can leave it any time, but that makes it worse, because I know I never will. My father needs me to keep him alive, although I wonder why I do it every single day, I still make sure he’s fed and shaved and doesn’t choke on his own puke at night.