Expecting it All (Punishment Pit Book 7)

by Livia Grant

  Rachel had stayed up all night unable to get back to sleep, replaying the last few weeks over and over again in her head. The irony of how she had been treating her Daddy as if he were incapable of caring for his family wasn't lost on the submissive. She knew better than anyone what a diligent job he did at caring for those he loved.

  She didn't have a chance to answer before she heard the security sequence being put into the back door. Her mom and youngest sister Maria barged in without even knocking, as was their new habit. Four-year-old Emily ran to the refrigerator without even saying hello, while the women came in, the two-year-old Johnny on her sister's hip.

  Rachel took a deep breath, committed to her plan. She needed to take action now, before they took their coats off.

  "Good morning, Mom and Maria. Thanks so much for stopping by, but you both get the day off today. Derek is staying home from work. He's gonna help me with Michael today."

  She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. She wasn't sure who was more surprised by her authoritative pronouncement—the women or her husband.

  Her mom spoke first. "I thought we were going to start our Christmas baking today? I brought all of the supplies. They're in the car."

  "It's only the first week of December. It can wait until next week."

  Emily had been paying attention. "I want to stay at Aunt Rachel's! Mommy lets me watch more TV when I'm at your house than at home!"

  Derek stood stock-still. He'd leaned back on the counter as if he needed help propping him up. His eyes met Rachel's. She had expected to see anger, but what she found instead was uncertainty. That was ten times worse. She loved how confident her husband was. He was her hero. In that moment, she realized how much damage she'd inflicted by cutting him out of these first precious weeks of taking care of her and their son.

  Her sister started to take her coat off, ignoring Rachel.

  "Maria, I mean it," Rachel said. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate all you and Mom have done for us these first few weeks, but we're ready to go it alone for a bit."

  Her mom looked conflicted. "But honey, it's your first baby. We just want to help you get settled."

  "Mom, I have thirteen nieces and nephews. I babysat for years. I'm pretty sure I'm not going to screw this up. If I have questions, I'll call. But today, I want Derek to help me."

  "A newborn is a bit different than adult babies. No offense, but he hasn't done anything to take care of the baby since he was born." Maria's snarky response came quickly.

  Rachel saw the doubt and pain flash across Derek's face, and wanted to smack her sister. Instead, she rushed to his defense. "And I take full responsibility for that. I love that you all want to help, but I let too many people crowd around us, and it pushed the most important person in my life away from me. That ends today. Yes, Derek likes to baby me, but he's also Michael's father, and no one can take better care of us than him." Rachel's conviction grew stronger with each word she uttered. He was across the room, the island still between them, but she could have sworn she could see tears glistening in her gentle giant's eyes.

  Maria looked as though she wanted to continue to argue, but thankfully Rachel's mom came over to give Rachel a tight hug. "I love you," she said. "We'll go bake cookies at my house." Rachel was grateful when her mom looked up at Derek with a broad smile for her son-in-law and added, "You're in great hands here."

  When her mom pulled back, Rachel mouthed, "Thank you."

  After their unneeded guests had left, an awkward hush fell over the kitchen. Derek looked as though he couldn't decide what he wanted to say.

  Rachel was tempted to fall into their old dynamic; play the naughty girl and let her Daddy toast her bottom for being so bossy, but it didn't feel right. As much as she longed to restore the intimacy to their marriage, it had to be on their new terms.

  "So…" she hedged.

  "So..." As did her husband.

  "Michael needs a bath. I thought we could give him one together after he wakes up from his nap."

  "Rach..." Anger was flashing in his eyes. It scared her.

  She barged ahead. "I was hoping you could help me figure out the electric pump. I want to start pumping milk so you can take some of his feedings."

  "Rachel." That one was more authoritative.

  "I haven't braved taking him out to the grocery store yet, either. Maybe you can—"

  "Rachel Lynn Parker!"

  That shut her up. It was his Daddy Dom voice. She was surprised to feel the flutter of her insides melting from his dominance. She'd missed this part of her husband so much.

  "Better. Now, before you say another word, I have something important to say."

  He looked so serious. It was rare that she couldn't read her husband, but in that moment she truly didn't know what was running through his head. He moved into action, quickly making his way around the island. She stood rooted to the spot until Derek enveloped her in his beefy arms; hugging her to him so hard he was forcing all of the air out of her lungs. He clung to her as if she were his lifeline. She cherished his guttural groan when she let her knee track up between his legs to rub against his thighs, coming into light contact with his heavy sac and the long cock she'd missed so much.

  He surprised her when he slipped his fingers through her thick, long hair and used it as a handle to yank her head back, forcing her to face him, their faces only inches apart. The intensity of his caramel brown eyes got her heart beating faster.

  "Now that I have your attention, I have to tell you how proud I am of you. Not just for being a wonderful mother to my son, but I'm so proud of how self-assured you've become."

  She glowed from his praise, right up until his grin turned to a look of sheer dominance. "Too bad you had to go and top from the bottom, and earn yourself a nice, long, naughty girl paddling."

  His words sounded angry, but the glint in his eyes disclosed how turned on he was. For the first time since Michael's birth Rachel felt a spark of sexuality, but she hadn't been cleared for sex yet by her OBGYN. She was just about to remind her husband when he clarified. "I've missed you so much that I'd love to fuck you into next week, but since we can't do that, I'll have to settle for paddling this naughty little ass of yours." His left hand palmed her rounded butt through her yoga pants.

  Her legs almost gave out under her. She'd been spared any serious punishments for months now. The thought of returning to a life of discipline both excited and scared her.

  "But Daddy, I've been a good girl," she pouted.

  He wasn't to be deterred. "Grab the baby monitor. We'll be able to hear when Michael wakes up. You'll be giving him his bath with a hot little bottom."

  His love flooded Rachel, flowing through her veins, returning her to being his baby girl, even if it was only for an hour. "Yes, Daddy."

  Chapter Five

  Derek

  "How long are you going to be gone for?" Derek hated the quaver in his own voice. He was a heavyweight body builder, who had had no trouble at all taking down a three-hundred pound perp earlier in the week, yet the mere thought of being home alone with his six-week-old son terrified him. He was working hard not to let his loving wife sense his fear.

  Rachel was distracted, rushing in and out of their walk-in closet as she tried to get dressed for her first solo social outing since becoming a mom. "I'm not exactly sure. Probably a couple hours, is all. Wedding showers can be hard to predict. Did Lukus say how many were invited?"

  Derek held out the missing shoe she'd been looking for. "Not really. He did say the wedding invitation list was insanely long. He tried to talk Tiffany into eloping, but she said her family would never forgive her."

  Rachel stopped to look at her reflection in the long mirror.

  God, she's gorgeous.

  He was relieved that, despite already having lost some of her pregnancy weight, she hadn't lost the heaviness of her breasts and the love-handles on her hips. Rachel hated the extra pounds. Derek, on the other hand, couldn't wait to get the ok
ay from her doctor to use those love-handles to pull her body back against his rutting cock. He'd decided the life of a celibate was not for him.

  She turned to look at him as if she was waiting for a response. Shit.

  "I'm sorry. I was so busy watching your hot body getting ready, I didn't hear what you said."

  His wife grinned. She sauntered towards him with the sexiest smile on her lips. "So, you know I went for my six-week check-up yesterday?"

  "How could I forget? It was my first time being home alone with Michael."

  "Yes, and you did great on your first solo run. You need to relax." She caressed his chest lightly.

  "Well, considering he didn't even wake up for the two hours you were gone, I hardly think it should count as a resounding success. I didn't do anything but stand over him and make sure he kept breathing."

  Her indulgent smile pissed him off until she clarified. "That will pass. I did that too, the first week he was home."

  "You did?" He was genuinely surprised. She had always acted as though she had everything under control. He had been so impressed.

  "Sure. Once I even woke him up, because he was making a little rattling noise when he was breathing and it didn't sound right." She reached up to cup his face in her palm, which calmed him. "It's perfectly normal, Derek. All parents go through this."

  He wasn't used to their reversed roles. It still surprised him when his submissive wife took charge, yet truth be told, he liked it—most of the time. He had pulled rank, and let her know he planned on at least retaining all control in their bed.

  "But anyway, I have an extra incentive for us to get through today," she said, and he could see the mischief in her eyes as she teased him.

  "What incentive would that be?"

  Rachel pressed herself against him, sliding her hands up and down his back, letting them settle on his muscled ass as she went up on tiptoes to whisper into his ear, "I got the green-light to have sex again from Dr. Taylor."

  It was as if she'd flipped a switch. His dick was at full attention within seconds. Of their own accord, his hands went to the hem of her sexy dress, lifting it as if to strip her bare.

  "Oh no, you don't. I just spent an hour getting ready to go. It can wait until later."

  "Are you kidding me? Come to think of it, why am I just hearing about this now? Your appointment was twenty-four hours ago," he said.

  "Yes, and we were both exhausted last night."

  "Over six weeks, Rachel. It's been almost two months since we've had sex. I don't care if you're comatose tonight. I'm making love to you."

  At least she giggled at his joke. "Believe me, I've been waiting, too. I can assure you, I won't be comatose."

  Suddenly, Derek couldn't wait for her to leave. The sooner she left, the faster she would get home, and they could get busy with restoring the sexual intimacy of their marriage.

  She grabbed her tiny purse from the bed. "It feels weird not to be taking a diaper bag. I'll keep my phone with me. Text me or call if you need me, okay? You're ready. You're gonna do great." She threw him a quick kiss and rushed out the door.

  I can do this. How hard can it be to take care of a baby for a few hours?

  It was when he watched her backing her SUV out of their driveway that the first inkling of panic set in. Rachel turned her car to head into the city, to attend the bridal shower being thrown for her good friend, Tiffany. It was only a few more weeks before Tiffany was set to marry his best friend, Master Lukus, in a New Year's Eve wedding extravaganza.

  As if he'd been waiting for his mother to leave, Michael chose the moment she disappeared around the corner to wake up with a wail. The sound of his crying came through the baby monitor only feet away from Derek.

  I can do this.

  Derek took the steps two at a time to get up to his son's nursery. Most nights, they had the baby sleep in his bassinet next to their bed, but they'd started having him nap during the day in his crib. By the time Derek stood beside the railing and looked down at his young son, the baby's cheeks were red from his cries. Derek reached in to scoop the baby into his arms, snuggling him close.

  He had made a lot of progress in the few weeks since his perceptive wife had stopped letting her family come over every day. At first he'd been nervous about doing the simplest things for his young son. He thought the baby was too delicate and that he'd accidentally hurt him. Bless Rachel for being patient with him as she taught him that the baby was more resilient than he appeared.

  "Shhh, little man. What's the problem?"

  As if he wanted to answer his father, Michael renewed his cries of displeasure with more vigor.

  "Okay. Okay. You have a wet diaper? Daddy can fix that."

  Derek couldn't say he was a pro yet, but he had mastered the art of changing diapers. He tried not to think about the practice he'd gotten on his son's mother. When he found the baby's diaper dry, he was perplexed.

  "Are you ready to eat already? Your mommy fed you not long before she left."

  The next fifteen minutes felt like the longest of Derek's lifetime. He paced, rocked, coddled, and even resorted to singing, but nothing would appease his young son. It was as if he knew his mommy had left the house without him, and he wasn't going to rest again until she came home.

  When his hail Mary of preparing a bottle didn't stop the cries, Derek did the only thing left he could think of. He grabbed his phone.

  His best friend, Lukus, answered almost immediately. "I'm glad you called. This waiting around with Tiff off at her shower blows."

  Derek didn't even get a word in before Lukus shouted even louder, "What the hell is going on over there? You beating that kid?"

  "Ha-ha. Very funny. He won't settle down. What should I do?"

  Lukus snorted. "How the hell should I know? I know less about babies than you do. Why did you call me instead of Rach?"

  "Because she needs a break. I don't want to bother her," Derek said.

  "So call your mom. She'd love to come help."

  "I can't. She's out in California with my dad, visiting Dylan and Hannah."

  Michael's crying went up another notch. Derek was walking and swaying, but nothing was helping. "Please. You're stressed over there, waiting on your own. Come wait here with me," he begged Lukus.

  Lukus chuckled. "I must be desperate. I'll be there in fifteen. Get the kid happy before I get there."

  The call dropped. Derek sure hoped the baby would be happy by the time Lukus arrived. He took a new binkie out of its wrapper and slid it between his son's lips. It helped calm Michael for about one full minute before the crying started anew. The pacifier fell to the floor, barely used.

  By the time Lukus arrived, Derek was seriously considering calling an ambulance. Babies didn't just cry for no reason. Something had to be wrong.

  Lukus must have heard the wails from outside because he let himself into the kitchen. Derek didn't miss his friend's look of terror as he glanced over at the pacing father. Derek would have loved to give him shit about it—but he probably didn't look much better himself.

  "He still won't shut up, eh?" Lukus prodded.

  "Very perceptive of you."

  "Fuck off."

  "Hey, don't cuss in front of my kid."

  "If you wanted Mary Poppins, you called the wrong guy. I told you, I know jack about taking care of babies."

  "Didn't you help your mom take care of your baby sister?" Derek asked.

  "Hell no. I was twelve when Zoie was born. I was too busy with sports to play dolls with a baby."

  "Some help you are."

  "I can mix you a drink. It might help us not care so much." Lukus grinned.

  "Brilliant." Derek continued to pace, rocking the baby as he walked in circles. He checked the diaper again. He tried to feed him a bottle. Nothing could make Michael happy. Derek placed another call.

  Markus Lambert answered on the first ring. "Hey, I was hoping you'd call. You up for a game of poker? We could descend on Lukus at the loft for cards
and cigars while the girls are off drinking punch. Hey... what the hell is that racket?"

  "It's my son, of course. And it's too late for poker. Lukus is already here. We need you to get your ass over here to my house ASAP."

  "Why? You having a stag party?"

  "Nope. A babysitting party."

  "I'll pass," Markus replied quickly.

  "You can't. You owe me."

  "Bullshit. For what?"

  Derek's mind raced for some type of favor he could come up with. "For getting plugged with two shots in the chest last summer while I was protecting your wife."

  Markus paused before uttering a soft, "Shit," under his breath. "You need me to pick up anything on the way over?"

  Despite how worried he was about his son, Derek smiled before answering, "Nope. Just you."

  They didn't bother with goodbyes.

  Lukus stepped up next to him. "All right, I've decided I can't do worse than you. Give the kid to his Uncle Lukus." Derek was surprised that his friend would even attempt to hold the baby. The men awkwardly handed off the wiggling infant.

  "Hold his head up," Derek warned.

  "I'm not an idiot."

  "Never said you were. And don't hold him out so far. Cuddle him closer to your body."

  Lukus pinned him with a stern stare. "Do you want my help or not?"

  Derek raised his hands up as if to surrender, and stepped back to see if his friend would have better luck. For a brief minute, he thought Lukus might be on to something when he was holding Michael up close to his face as he talked softly to his son. It settled him briefly, but then his crying resumed, even stronger.

  Markus got there just in time to watch Derek strike out by trying to put the baby into the swing. Michael loved the swing when Rachel was there. Derek had no clue why he wasn't happy there now.

  "He must be hungry. Give him your tit, Derek." Markus grinned at his own sophomoric humor.

  "Very funny." Still, Derek gave the idea a shot, re-warming a bottle of breast milk and sitting at the kitchen table to try to feed Michael. When he'd drunk only one measly ounce, the baby's cries grew even stronger. The poor tyke was hiccuping from his exertion; snot dripping from his nose, making it hard for him to breathe. Derek was truly worried something was wrong.