by Lainey Reese
“We just cut our trip short and jumped on a plane. No biggie,” Riley said as she bounced from Terryn’s embrace to Brice’s.
“Glad you’re here, beautiful.” Brice kissed the top of her head and held her for a moment since she leaned heavily into him and seemed content to stay there. “You were missed.”
He met Cade’s eyes over her head and lifted his brows when he saw the expression on his cousin’s face. When he looked at Trevor, he was even more puzzled. Trevor looked at Riley like she was going to drop any second and he was hovering around to catch her.
“Wait.” As a thought sank in he put some things together. Home early, Riley clinging like a burr, Cade and Trevor looking sick with worry while they stared at her. “Oh my God. You’re pregnant.”
Terryn started squealing again, then wrenched Riley out of his arms and started bouncing around with her.
“How did you guess?” Trevor asked, still watching Riley like a mother hen.
“You’re joking, right?” Brice said with a brow raised. “You two are watching her like you expect her to collapse any second.”
“Ry.” Apparently not able to stand it a minute longer, Cade gently took their wife by the shoulders and steered her to the couch. “Please stop jumping. And sit down. The flight exhausted you, and you’ve already thrown up twice just since we landed.”
“I still think we should have gone straight home and let everybody visit us there,” Trevor said as he took a seat next to Riley and rubbed a hand on the back of her neck.
“Oh, geez.” Riley waved that away and looked at Terryn and Brice. “You’d think I was the first woman who ever got pregnant, the way these two have been acting since they found out. I should have waited to tell them. At least then my vacation wouldn’t have gotten cut short.”
Brice opened his mouth to tease the guys about overreacting, when he got his first good look at her. She’d lost weight, her skin was yellow under her natural coloring, and there were circles under her big almond eyes that had never been there before.
“Aw, babe,” he said as his cousin’s worry took up residence in his own chest. “How are you feeling? You look like maybe they’re right and you should be resting.”
Terryn must’ve seen it too, because she tucked a cashmere throw on Riley’s lap and asked, “What do you need? Can I get you some water or ginger ale? I hear crackers are good if you’re feeling nauseous.”
Riley was still trying to act brave and wave that away but Cade answered for her. “Ginger ale would be great and she likes dry white toast if you could. Or pretzels. Right?”
She crumpled under his loving regard. As her shoulders wilted into the couch cushions, she rested her head on Trevor’s arm and said, “Pretzels. And ginger ale would be amazing.” Her cheeks pinkened a little when she added, “And it might be a good idea if you brought a big bowl too. Just in case.”
“Oh, poor baby.” Terryn bent over to hug her and fussed with tucking the blanket more securely around her legs. “Don’t worry. The sick tummy is only supposed to be for the first part. It’ll be over before you know it.”
As Terryn went to the kitchen, Riley said, “God, I hope so. This is awful. Everything makes me sick, even smells can send me running for the nearest bathroom. And weak. I’m so wimpy and sleepy all the time now.” She glared at Brice and he looked at Cade for help but Cade only lifted his hands in the air in a gesture that stated clearly he was on his own.
“I used to pop out of bed every morning, raring to go,” she went on. “Six o’clock was sleeping in for me and I could go all day. But now? Now all I want is a nap. And you know what sounds good to me when I wake up after a nap?”
Since she was still glaring at him like he was at fault in some way, Brice answered, “What?” as softly as he could.
“Another nap, that’s what. It’s awful. I feel awful.” Her face drooped into lines of sadness and her eyes welled up with tears. Brice felt like a bully and he knew damn well he had nothing to feel guilty about but for some reason that didn’t make a bit of difference.
He was about three seconds from a panic attack when Terryn came back in with a bowl of pretzels, a glass of ginger ale, and a steaming cup all on a serving tray. “There, there, sweetheart. It’s just your hormones getting to you. You’ll feel better in a while. You’ll see.”
“I know.” Riley sniffled, and Cade produced a tissue for her. “I keep telling myself that, but I cry all the time. That is when I’m not puking or sleeping.” Cade sat on her other side and draped his arm behind her. “I hate that this is like this. I’m supposed to be a glowing, full-of-energy sex fiend. Not this bloated tummy, feeling like a dead zombie thing that is going on.”
Terryn handed Riley the steaming cup and wrapped her hands around it. “Who says? You are making a baby. It’s hard work and I promise even if you feel like this the whole time, it’ll be worth it. And when it’s all done and you are holding that beautiful baby, none of this will matter.” She kissed her cheek and added, “Now try this tea. It’s got sugar in it, which is supposed to help, and it’s a nice mellow jasmine.”
Riley test drove a small sip and waited with comic stillness, before she gave a small relieved smile and picked up a pretzel to nibble.
“So,” Terryn asked, “is this a Wellington or a Marshall?” Her smile was infectious, and Brice just knew that tonight’s pillow talk was going to be about when they could start on their own baby.
He looked at his lovely wife in bewilderment. Riley looked sick as a dog and like she could boot chunks any second, but his wife was staring at her all misty-eyed and dreamy. He caught Trevor looking at Terryn the same way and the two of them shook their heads in mutual bafflement.
Women.
“We don’t know,” Riley answered with a sigh. Seemed the tea and pretzels were helping. She looked less tense now, and her color was more sea foam than pea soup. “We talked about it and decided that we’d leave the first one up to chance and then go back and forth from there.” She lovingly patted her still-flat tummy. “A test will let us know when he/she gets here. Until then, I like not knowing. It’s not like it’ll matter to any of us anyway.”
“Why in the hell did you guys even go on the trip if she was expecting, anyway?” Brice asked, thinking about the demands travel put on a healthy body, let alone a pregnant one.
Cade glared at Riley and she had the brains to lower her eyes and slouch down into the cushions. “We wouldn’t have normally, especially considering how sick she’s been. Unfortunately, our wife neglected to tell us she was pregnant.”
Trevor frowned and added, “We spent all that time thinking she had the flu. And then we thought maybe it was Mono. We were ready to drag her to a hospital when she finally confessed.”
“I said I was sorry.” Her mumble was defiant and adorable. Brice hid his smile behind his coffee cup so as not to encourage her.
“Sheesh,” she said a little louder, “I haven’t spent my whole life traipsing all over the planet like you two. This was only the third time I’d ever gone to Europe, and we were set to go places I’d never been before. How was I supposed to know I was going to be so god-awful sick? I thought I was going to be fine.” Her chin quivered and her eyes filled with tears again. “It should have been fine. This sucks.”
Brice leaned forward and cradled her hands around her mug. “You’ll live to traipse the world again, you’ll see. Now finish your tea and have some more pretzels because they seem to be working.”
Two sips in and Riley was asleep. One minute she was quiet and nuzzled while Trevor answered Brice’s question about the flight, and the next she was out—just like that.
“She drops like a rock now. At the theatre in London, in the middle of one of her favorite shows, she just conked out. And I don’t think she made it through even one taxi ride all the way, either.” He slipped the tea from her hands and Cade moved the tray out of the way before settling back down.
“Looks like we’re here for an hour or so. We d
on’t wake her up unless there’s a fire or alien invasion,” Cade told them. “She vomits every time she wakes up. First thing when she wakes up. Found that out the hard way, so keep the bowl close and go about your day if you have things to get done. We’re not moving.”
Brice locked his lips together and tried to think of something that would keep him from laughing. He failed. He did manage to muffle it so as not to wake Riley but it was a close thing. “So what?” he asked as the chuckles continued. “You guys are stuck wherever you happen to be when she falls asleep? Are you planning to adjust this, or should I be expecting to catch you guys at home for the next nine months?”
“You know what?” Cade asked with a look that could kill. “You’re a funny guy, asshole. Keep laughing. Just remember this moment when it’s your turn.” He shook his head and cracked a small smile. With a sigh of resignation, he added, “We just found out. And, Christ, but she’s been sick.” He stroked a gentle hand along her cheek. “I’m scared shitless. She can’t keep anything down. She’s weak and dizzy and, I swear to God, if it’s like this the whole time, we are adopting the rest of our kids.”
Trevor said, “Here here,” to that.
“Wouldn’t she sleep better if you could get her to lie down?” Terryn asked.
“Oh, give her another minute or two,” Trevor replied. “She has her own inner schedule. She’ll get herself horizontal—every time we’ve tried to move her it’s had messy results.” His grimace had both Brice and Terryn chuckling again. Sure enough, no more than three minutes had gone by and Riley started making sleepy little huffs as she began to move around.
“Hey, Bri.” Trevor reached a hand toward the armchair closest to him. “Hand me that throw pillow, would ya?”
Brice barely got it to him in time before Riley was resting on her side with her cheek comfortably on the pillow and her feet curled in Cade’s lap.
As Cade slowly removed her shoes and started an absent foot massage, he asked, “So, how’s Oops enjoying her foray into adulthood?”
Brice felt about a hundred years old when he lowered himself into the armchair and said, “Yeah. About that.”
Zoe felt as if everything inside her had somehow been released, which was ironic considering she was trussed up tighter than a Christmas goose. Her hands were clasped behind her neck with a soft nylon rope securing each wrist to her shoulders. The rope was looped around her biceps and forearms, then connected to the one that wound over and under her breasts like a medieval torture device. Her breasts were tight in their bindings with the rope not covering them—only surrounding them like a bra with no cups—until they were pushed up and out from her body. All that was connected to another rope tied between her shoulder blades that Gage had hooked to a pulley that hung from the ceiling.
She was kneeling on a blanket they’d brought from the house, with her legs bent and secured much like her arms, in that the calves were strapped to her thighs with her butt resting between her heels. Her legs were spread and there was more rope attached to each leg harness, and that rope was knotted around braces in the floor like boat rigging.
She couldn’t move if she wanted to. It was the most secure feeling she’d ever experienced. Like this, she was powerless. There was nothing she could do, so everything that happened was someone else’s call—all she had to do was exactly what she was doing. Wait on her Dom’s whim. There was a freedom in bondage that she would have never guessed at in a million years.
“What is your safe word, sub?” Gage walked toward her with things in his hands she couldn’t remember the names to, but the sight of them dried up all the spit in her mouth.
“Alamo, Sir.” Her voice trembled a little, so she cleared her throat.
“We are trying new things on you this mornin’, and I want you to be careful with yourself. You use that safe word even if you just need me to ease up. Now, I’ll keep checking these restraints, but let me know if anything starts going numb or tingly.” He was checking the ropes even as he spoke, and Zoe was comforted by his thoroughness.
“Funishment, darlin’,” Gage began as he placed the pink vibrating massager on the floor beneath her open legs, then he shifted and adjusted her until it was directly on her clit. “Is a mix of pain and pleasure. It could involve whips or floggers or plain old-fashioned spankings. When that is mixed with direct stimulation? Well, it can be the best orgasms of your life, if I do it right. And darlin’?” He cupped a hand under her chin and kissed her lips with a slow wet kiss. “I aim to do it right.”
He picked up a black leather flogger and gripped it tight in one hand while he ran the strips through his other hand. Her breathing picked up pace as well as her heart. He’d never struck her before. A smack here and there on her bottom or thighs, sure, but a flogging? Something tight coiled in her stomach as he circled her.
“Hmm,” he mused as he stopped behind her. “All this lovely flesh. Where to start?” She could hear the somewhat hissing sound the flogger made as he continued to run it through his hands. Why was he doing that, she wondered as her anxiety rose. Was he warming it up? Was he just trying to make her nervous or scared? He was doing a bang-up job if he was.
Or maybe— Swish. Smack!
Dozens of leather tongues thunked into her back. She startled but only yelped out of surprise. That didn’t hurt at all. Hmm. Was he going easy on her? Another smack—same force, mild and just a little lower on her back. Then another and another—up and down her back, always with that swishing sound just before the impact.
Her back warmed in a pleasant “been in the sun for a while” kind of way, as the force of the blows increased by increments. She dropped her chin to her chest and arched back into the heat. When she heard Gage chuckle, heat of a different and equally pleasant kind unfurled in her heart.
He kept going up and down her back from the tips of her shoulders to the top of her butt. Then he started moving and next, the outside of her right thigh got the same treatment as her back. From hip to knee and over again until her leg was as warm and buzzy as her back. Then the other leg got it, and finally he was behind her, and now when he went from shoulders down he didn’t stop at her hips. The first strike on her ass snapped her spine straight and brought a cry to her lips. It was mostly surprise because she hadn’t been expecting it, but there was something more to it now.
The rhythm he was working her with was directing the beat of her heart. His strikes were getting harder and then softer and back again. Swish, smack. Swish, smack. Her skin was encased in velvet heat that pulsed with the strands of that flogger and she felt herself caught up in it. Her thoughts drifted away and her mind was filled with only a wash of colors that swayed and flashed according to her Master and his strokes.
He worked his way to her front, knelt, took aim with the flogger cocked in his hands and, swish-smack! Right across her swollen and tender breasts. Not hard, not even as hard as her back, but they were sensitive under normal circumstances and now they were much more so.
“Oh yes!” Lightning shot from her breasts to between her legs and out to her fingertips and toes. Like a star going supernova, she exploded, and only the ropes kept her from blasting into a million sparkling fragments. He did it again. And again. She was twisting and jerking within her bonds, her mind whirling in a kaleidoscope of colors now, and she felt the ground disappear from beneath her.
The flogging moved across her stomach, making the muscles there bunch and tighten. Then it happened. What had to be at least two-dozen strips of leather struck right between her legs. Zoe screamed. It was pain. It was blinding pleasure. It was a mix of both, and when he hit a second time even harder than the first, she screamed again while her head thrashed back and forth without her control. She tried to squeeze her legs together but they wouldn’t move. She tried to lower her arms to cover herself but couldn’t. She was helpless to stop him, and when that flogger fell a third time every muscle in her body locked.
That’s when he turned on the vibrator.
�
�I’m going to kill that son of a bitch.” The way Cade whispered the words made them sound as heartfelt as a vow and he locked gazes with Trevor, who uttered a vow of his own.
“Not before I rip off his balls and shove ‘em in his eye sockets.”
“Agreed.”
“Men,” Terryn’s voice was full of feminine disgust as she muscled her way into Brice’s lap. “Quit frowning at me, Brice.” She ordered as she settled and then looked at Cade and Trevor. “He already beat the guy to a pulp, so there’s not much left to do ‘macho-wise’ to him.”
“I disagree,” Cade answered without flinching.
“Red,” Brice said, “You want to tell me why you are sticking up for him? And why you decided to do it from my lap?”
Terryn smiled up at him and looped her arms around his neck. “I’m sticking up for him because I think Oops is in love and free to make her own choices.” She ignored the disgruntled noises from the men behind her. “And I’m doing it from your lap, because this way I’m too close for you to get a good swing on me.”
“Sneaky brat,” Cade said.
“Hmm, smart,” Trevor said at the same time.
Brice just stared at her with his frown in place and thought both his cousin and Trevor were right. Using both hands, he slicked her fiery curls back from her face until he held the mass of it in a ponytail at the base of her skull.
She had such exquisite bone structure, he thought. Every feature in precisely the right proportion and place. With a spirit as fiery as her hair, she made up the single most cherished person in his world. The only other who got anywhere close to meaning as much was his baby sister.
“You know I’d never hit you,” he said in a soft voice just before he tightened his grip on her hair and tugged. “Unless you were naked and tied to my bed.” He kissed her softly on the tip of her nose, then tucked her head beneath his chin. “I can’t accept this for her, Red. Not at this stage in her life. She has nothing to compare this lifestyle with. She’s going in blind, riding on a childhood crush.”