by Julie Kenner
“If I set you down are you going to run?”
And be less mature than she’d already been today? One thing was right. They needed to talk. “No.”
He gently set her on her feet and opened the door. “Will you please eat something? I’ll take you anywhere you want. We need to figure out how this is going to work.”
She’d wanted enchiladas earlier in the day, but now all she could think about was pasta and she knew exactly where to get it. “Take me to Top.”
Twenty minutes later, she sighed as Sean Taggart placed a plate of pasta carbonara in front of her. She’d already inhaled a Caesar salad. She might have been nauseous this morning, but she was ravenous now.
“Are you sure I can’t get you a glass of wine? The sommelier has this paired with a Chablis that truly complements the creamy texture of the dish,” Sean explained. He was dressed in his chef whites. She was much more used to calling him Master Sean and seeing him in leathers, but then Sean Taggart was a Master of more than one thing. He was definitely a master with pasta and sauces.
She was about to turn him down when Mitch decided to take over.
“She can’t because she’s pregnant.”
Why did she suddenly feel like every eye in the place was on her? The crowd was light at this time of day, and it seemed like Mitch had shouted out into an almost silent room.
Sean held out a hand, a smile creasing his handsome face. “Really? That’s exciting news. Congratulations, man. I didn’t know you two were even seeing each other.”
That was just like a man. “We’re not seeing each other and how do you know the baby is his? Maybe it’s someone else’s. And I’m barely pregnant.”
“The baby is absolutely, one hundred percent mine, and we’re definitely seeing each other now. We’re getting married,” Mitch declared with ruthless determination.
Sean put a friendly hand on Mitch’s shoulder. “Good to hear it, man. Let us know when the wedding is and we’ll be happy to cater. Macon’s been dying to do a wedding cake. He and Ally got married in Vegas so he didn’t do his own. You two enjoy and let me know if I can get you anything else. The dessert this evening is a bread pudding, so you’ll want to save room.”
She was almost distracted by that. Almost.
“Why did you tell him that?” She leaned over so she could maybe minimize the damage. The servers were looking her way and whispering behind their hands. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if it was Ally. She knew Ally, but there were two women she didn’t know talking about her “engagement” that wasn’t going to happen. “He didn’t need to know that.”
Mitch looked at her over his porterhouse with truffle mashed potatoes and shrugged. “Everyone’s going to find out anyway. And there’s no such thing as being barely pregnant. You’re either pregnant or you’re not.”
“Well maybe I would like more than three minutes to process it before we tell the world that we screwed up.”
“Did we?”
She sat back, regarding him. He looked tired. Like he wasn’t sleeping or he was staying at the office. He did that at times. She would walk in and find him asleep on the couch in his office and she would close the shades and put a blanket over him and try to let him get an hour or two. “What is that supposed to mean, Mitch?”
This was the type of conversation that would typically upset her stomach. Not so now. She couldn’t resist the siren call of that creamy sauce or the bacon and pancetta. Even the noodles were perfect.
“It means that I didn’t use a condom and you didn’t ask me to use one.”
She leaned over. “I didn’t think. I wasn’t thinking, Mitchell.”
He cut a piece of steak but didn’t eat it. “Do you usually not think?”
“Of course not.” How did she put this without sounding pathetic? “Not that there have been many times for me to not think.”
“I never have sex without a condom, Laurel. I’ll be honest, there hasn’t been a lot lately, but that’s simply not something I do. I’m always careful. The last thing I want is to get trapped again.”
“Well, I guess I should thank you for at least being honest.” Maybe she was going to lose her appetite.
He reached across the table and put a hand on hers. It was the first time he’d willingly touched her outside the kiss or that night they’d had sex or when he was trying to kidnap her. Tender. He was trying to be tender with her and it made Laurel stop.
“I wasn’t saying you trapped me, Laurel. I was wondering if maybe deep down I wanted to be trapped with you. I was wondering if subconsciously maybe we knew what we were doing and we took the risk anyway because deep down we wondered if it wouldn’t be so bad.”
She’d wondered the same thing herself. “Maybe we did.”
“How many boyfriends have you had?”
“How many girlfriends have you had?”
He shrugged. “Two. But if you’re asking about women I’ve slept with, it’s a lot more. I’d ballpark it at thirty.”
That was a big number. And only two girlfriends? “You married both of your girlfriends?”
“No. Margot was my college girlfriend. We went to law school together and when we got out, I built my firm from the ground up. My father threw me a bone and got me hooked up with a man named Garrison Cage.”
She knew his business story. She’d spent long nights looking him up on the Internet. “The tech guru. That’s why they called you the Silicon Counselor.”
He’d been a legal consultant to some of the biggest tech firms in the business. He’d made millions before it all fell apart.
“Yeah, I had a partner in the firm. Nolan Pence. We got close in law school. He was kind of my first friend, I guess. I moved around a lot as a kid. I never made close friends. Anyway, he decided he liked both the company and my wife. I’d been stupid because I’d made Margot a partner even though she wasn’t practicing at the time. She was mostly fucking Nolan. They had the majority of the firm behind the two of them, so I was asked to leave.”
Yes, she knew that part, too. “So who was the other girlfriend if it wasn’t your second wife?”
She asked the question with a cautious tone because this was the first conversation they’d had about his personal life. They’d had long lunches talking about the law or sports or politics, but they’d never done this.
They’d had sex and made a baby and they’d never even gone on a date.
“I had a girlfriend when I was a teenager. My mom sent me to boarding school the last couple of years of high school. Best thing that ever happened to me. Her name was Natalie. She went to the girls’ school. I guess I was wrong. I guess she was really my first friend. We were together for three years.”
“Did you break up when you went to college?”
He shook his head. “She died. Car accident. She was coming home with some friends and a drunk driver killed them all. I found out from the news the next day because all the people who would have told me were dead.” He took a quick drink of the Coke he’d ordered. “Those were my two girlfriends. I wouldn’t call Joy so much a girlfriend as a hookup gone wrong. I left San Francisco and moved to LA, where I started a new firm, and I met Joy at a Hollywood party. I was drinking a lot back then. I woke up in Vegas married about two weeks later. The marriage lasted three years and then she divorced me and now she’s living in our old Hollywood Hills house that I still pay the upkeep for. So that’s how I have two girlfriends and two wives but not the same. Now, I’ve politely answered your question. Could you please answer mine?”
She felt a little battered. He’d spoken in a monotone, but how was she supposed to handle that? The girl he’d loved had died and he’d tried twice more and gotten screwed in every way a man could. And she expected him to try again? The enormity of his losses weighed on her, but she answered him anyway. “I’ve had three serious boyfriends and that’s how many guys I’ve slept with, too. Well, four now.”
Three boyfriends. Not a one of them had cheated on her. There wa
s no grand trauma in her past concerning men. Her high school boyfriend had moved away for college and they’d drifted apart. The guy she’d dated through college had asked her to marry him, but she’d known they were far too similar and broken it off. And she’d split up with her recent boyfriend shortly after she’d met Mitchell Bradford and realized she couldn’t feel for the man anything close to what she felt for Mitch.
And now she was wondering if it was all for nothing because Mitch had been through too much. Will had told her once that Mitch was broken. She’d thought she could fix him.
“That’s all? That’s not a lot, Laurel,” he said, his face grim. “I was somewhat wild at certain points in my life.”
“I never did anything wild in my life. Well, until that night.” Until she’d thrown caution right out the door and made a baby with the man who had fascinated her from the moment she met him.
But now she had to wonder if that meant she loved him. She didn’t even know him. Not the real Mitch. She wasn’t sure he let anyone know the real him. He was a man who believed in contracts and exchanges.
Marriage was a contract, but not one he put a lot of faith in. But there was another type he did believe in.
“I think we should get married, Laurel.”
What if she could get to know him? What if she could find some way inside the puzzle that was Mitch Bradford? It scared her, but her optimism was starting to return. Didn’t she owe it to her child? She had to find out where his head really was on this subject.
“I don’t have to have the baby, Mitch. There’s a simple solution to all of this.”
He went white. Like sheet white. “I don’t want that. I can’t stop you, but I don’t want that. I know I’ve been a shit husband before and if I’d had my way, I wouldn’t have had kids. But…Laurel, I don’t want that. I don’t want to get rid of anything that’s a part of you.”
And just like that she knew she was going to try and she knew she was going to give her all, and not only for the baby. She was going to try for her, too. She was going to try because the universe was giving her another shot and she was going to take it. “Good because I don’t want that either. I’m pregnant and I think I should have the baby, but I don’t think that’s reason enough to get married.”
“I think the baby…our baby might disagree. I grew up without a father.”
“So did I. I’m not trying to cut you out, Mitch. If you want to be a part of this baby’s life, I think that’s great, but have you considered that you could be a part of his or her life and not be a part of mine? You were adamant about not having a relationship with me. I’m the one who pushed it.”
“Laurel, I don’t think I’m good for you. I’m too old and honestly, I’m tired of the whole marriage thing. I’m not any good at it. But I’m willing to try because I think if we’re going to have a baby then we should try to be the best we can be. Can we try?”
Trying was what she’d always wanted to do, but she couldn’t end up being another one of his ex-wives.
Maybe there was something else they could try. Something she’d always wanted to try.
“I don’t like that look on your face, Laurel.”
She smiled because he probably wasn’t going to like her plan either.
But she’d definitely gotten her appetite back. She dug in and planned her next step.
Chapter Five
Mitch looked down at the document he’d drafted. It was a contract. He drafted those every day. It was what he did. He wasn’t usually the one who signed them though. And he’d never thought he’d be writing this one.
“Is it ready?” Laurel walked in carrying a mug.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be drinking coffee. Are pregnant women supposed to drink coffee?” He’d read that somewhere.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Or you could drink whatever you want,” he amended. Maybe he should have written a food and drink clause into the contract.
The D/s contract he wasn’t completely sure he should sign with her.
Her lips curled up and she sank onto the couch in front of him. “Good. And because you asked, no, this isn’t coffee. It’s hot tea. I carry some bags in my purse. I have a couple of herbals that help with things like tension and anxiety.”
She was anxious? “We don’t have to do this tonight. We can go to bed and talk about it again in the morning.”
“I’m not anxious about the contract. I’m just tense. It’s been a rough day. I have a lot to think about, you know. I need to figure out what I’m going to do about my job. I talked to Lyle. He’s the head of the paralegals. He gave me the afternoon off, but he’s not going to be happy to find out that I’ll need maternity leave so soon. Oh, and I also had to drink tea because you have nothing but sports drinks and beer. And there is nothing in your fridge. What do you eat?”
She always asked him multiple questions at a time. It threw him off. He’d thought on more than one occasion that was her intention.
“Tomorrow, we’ll go buy groceries and I’ll get rid of the beer.”
“Why?”
“It doesn’t seem fair that I can drink and you can’t. Besides, I lean on it too often at times, and I won’t do that when I have a submissive in my home. As for your job, you don’t have to have one or you can come back and work for me. I never actually did the paperwork to let you go. Technically, you’re still my employee.”
“Why didn’t you do the paperwork?”
Because he hadn’t wanted to let her go. Because it had seemed so permanent. “I’m lazy and Sharon gets confused about using the computer for anything but sending her grandkids e-mails.”
“Sharon is still there. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. I fired her twice. She keeps showing back up.”
A wide smile crossed her face. “I told her working for you would require tenacity. It’s good to know someone listens. I like my new job, Mitch. I like what we do. My only problem is my insurance doesn’t kick in for another couple of weeks.”
She would never have to worry about money. “We’ll pay out of pocket until then.”
“Okay.” Once he agreed to sign a D/s contract with her, she’d become quite amenable. She hadn’t fought him when he’d taken her to his home instead of her own. Lisa was dropping off a bag after she finished up her night class and tomorrow he’d take her to her place after work and figure out what she needed for a long-term stay. “So should we sign the contract? I filled out the list of places you can put stuff in.”
Ah, the hard and soft limits questionnaire. “It’s called my penis. Let’s not call it stuff.”
She shrugged. “I thought you played around with vibrators and those glass things. Why glass by the way?”
“Dildos, and the glass is for play. It can be heated up or chilled for the sensation. Don’t forget butt plugs, sweetheart. If you sign this, you’ll get familiar with those. I like anal sex. I’ll want you to try it.” It wasn’t a hard limit for her. She’d put it down as something she was curious about. “And you’re right, you have had a hard day. Take your time and read this contract. It’s got everything we talked about in it.”
She picked it up. “Anything new in there? You throwing me any curve balls, like I have to greet you at the door each night naked and kiss your feet?”
He liked the naked part. His feet were actually surprisingly sensitive. “No. I did write a specific clause that’s catered to our unique position and that goes on past the terms of the original contract.”
Her brows rose and she picked up the contract, flipping to the back. She knew him pretty well, it seemed. She knew exactly where he would put it.
“A pregnancy clause? Interesting. You know for a man who said he didn’t want kids, you sure want to be there for everything.” Her eyes moved over the words, taking them in before she set it back down. Her eyes were soft as she looked at him. “You know I would never lock you out. I agree to all the terms of the clause and I’ll sign it, but I want you to k
now I wouldn’t block you even if we didn’t have a contract.”
The clause stated plainly that he would accompany her to all prenatal visits, all parenting and childbirth classes, and be in the delivery room and welcome at the hospital. It also stated that both parties would work out a child custody agreement no later than a month before the anticipated birth of the Bradford-Daley child in the event the parties were no longer living together.
“Were you going to tell me?” He wondered. He believed her when she said the hospital was the first time she truly knew she was pregnant, but she had to have had a clue.
“Yes. I would have told you. I might have taken a day or two, but trust me, I would have shown up on your doorstep, Mitch. I’m not a ‘suffer in silence’ kind of girl.” Her lips quirked up and so did his dick. She was here. She was sitting on his crappy couch with her shoes off, relaxed and accepting.
If she signed that contract tonight, he was going to have her. He was going to have her every fucking night he could until the day she woke up and realized it was all a mistake.
“Laurel, do you need time to read the rest of the contract? I’m a bit more hardcore than your brother. You should think about this. I need control outside of the bedroom. I’m not picking your clothes or telling you what to eat, but I’ll want a nightly routine. I’ll want you here with me at night. If you do go out with your girlfriends, I’ll want to know where you’re going and I’ll likely want to drop you off and pick you up. I’ll be obnoxious about your safety and god, Laurel, don’t ignore phone calls because I will never ignore yours.”
She started looking through the bulk of the contract. “And what happens if I’m working or can’t answer at that particular time.”
“I’ve set up protocols.”
She nodded. “Yes, I can see that.”
He was going to lose her. She was going to see all the crap he would put her through and walk away to find one of those “I only want control in the bedroom” Doms.
She picked up a pen and scratched through what seemed to be a paragraph. “I’m not doing that, Mitch. The no talking about our relationship thing is never going to happen, and anyone who tells you they’ll honor it is lying. I’ve got two sisters. I’m going to talk to them.”