Auctioned to the Spanish Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More)

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Auctioned to the Spanish Dom [The Spectrum Auctions 3] (Siren Publishing Ménage and More) Page 15

by Doris O'Connor


  A soft pop behind her, followed by a pain-filled grunt, wrenched Peyton’s attention away from Pedro. His eyes narrowed as they focused behind her.

  “Oh fuck, shit…not now…James…ooowww.”

  James went as white as a sheet, and the fine hair on Peyton’s arms rose. There was only one reason for Alicia to swear like that. She’d gone into labor.

  Peyton swallowed her own curse when she swung round and saw the green mess on the floor. Alicia’s waters had broken, and judging by the thick meconium staining, what should be clear fluid, all was not well. Her sister knew that too, and her usually so calm and collected sibling started to cry. Peyton rushed over to her, dimly aware of Pedro stepping fully into the hall. He gave James a shove toward his wife and Alicia’s husband finally moved. Alicia made a grab for him and hung off his shoulders, as the first of her contractions hit and she huffed and puffed through it. More meconium-stained waters trickled onto the stone tiles, while Peyton rubbed the small of Alicia’s back. No sooner had this contraction abated, another, much stronger one shook her sister’s frame, and James literally turned green.

  “No fucking way. You can’t have those babies here. You can’t.” His voice had risen to a shrill, terrified shriek that hurt Peyton’s ears, and had she not been so busy rubbing Alicia’s back, she’d have hit the useless man.

  “She’s not. Not if I can help it. We need to get her to the hospital. James, pull yourself together. I’ve got this. Go, get her bag and start the car,” Peyton said.

  Alicia tightened her hold on her husband with a strangled, “No.”

  Pedro stepped closer, and Peyton had never been more grateful for his quiet strength, as he placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

  “I can take you all. He’s in no fit state to drive. What do you need me to do?” he asked, and Peyton shot him a grim smile.

  “Her bag is all packed and at the bottom of the stairs. Her notes are on top. She’s booked in at Kings College Hospital, and we need to ring ahead to let them know she’s coming in, and that…” Peyton glanced to the slippery floor and bit her lip.

  “Understood. Consider it done. Try and get them to my car, pequeñita.”

  He ignored James’s bluster and strolled off.

  “You heard him, James. Let’s get Alicia to his car.”

  “I’ll not get in that pervert’s car. I—”

  “Fuck, James, shut up.” Alicia’s curse as she slapped his face with enough force to leave a handprint on her husband’s cheek, stopped his little tirade, and he took a step back. In a temporary lull from contractions, Alicia glared at her husband.

  “I don’t care if he’s a fucking axe murderer, if he takes me to hospital. I…not again. Fuck this hurts. I’ll have your fuckin’ balls on a string if you come near me again, James Balling.”

  Pedro’s dry chuckle behind them made Peyton grin despite the situation, especially when he dropped his voice so that only Peyton could hear him.

  “I guess labor turns the meekest of women into a Domme, si?”

  He winked at Peyton, and then made himself busy, settling husband and wife in the backseat of his car. They made it to the hospital in record time, and not a moment too soon.

  “Fuck, fuck, she’s bleeding.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Pedro took a sip of the hot liquid masquerading as hospital coffee, and thrust the paper cup at James Balling’s white face.

  “Here, drink this. It’s not much, and if I didn’t think they would throw us out, I’d lace it with brandy, but it’ll have to do.”

  The other man was too white and still for Pedro’s liking. James was a menacing fool, who fell apart in a crisis, but he was Peyton’s brother-in-law, and her sister would need him, especially if…

  Pedro swallowed a curse, and rolled his shoulders. He knew firsthand that twin births could be complicated. They’d almost lost José when he was born. His twin sister hadn’t made it, and Carmelita was buried in the same plot as her mother and father now were. Pedro shook his head to clear it of the morbid thoughts and turned around to find James watching him. Tears ran down his cheeks, and Pedro shifted from foot to foot.

  “I can’t lose them. And I certainly can’t lose Alicia. I know, you must think me a right fool, but I love my wife…so much.” James’s voice broke on the last few words, and he downed the coffee in one go and crushed the paper cup in his hand.

  “There was so much fucking blood and this is all my fault.” James got up and started to pace the waiting area like an injured lion.

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It takes two to make a baby,” Pedro said, and James stopped at the window and rested his head against the glass.

  “She didn’t want any more babies after Martin, but my mother…we have all boys, see, and Mother wanted granddaughters.”

  Pedro couldn’t help the sound of disgust he made at the back of his throat, and James nodded.

  “I know it’s pathetic. A grown man at the whim of his mother, but I convinced Alicia to try one last time. They are girls, you know, the twins.” James glanced toward Pedro, and when Pedro didn’t respond, he sighed and sat back down again with a heavy thud.

  “I should probably ring Mother and let her know Alicia is in theater?”

  Pedro rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. It was far too tempting to punch some sense into the idiot.

  “That’s not for me to say. I would have thought, whatever the outcome, your wife would appreciate your support first and foremost. Talking of which, and I know this is none of my fucking business, but why aren’t you in there with her? If that was my wife, giving birth to my children, nothing would stop me from being with her.”

  Unbidden images of Peyton heavy with his children jumped into Pedro’s brain and he pinched the bridge of his nose. She didn’t want children yet. She’d said that, and chances were high they would have twins. They ran in Pedro’s family, after all.

  A faint blush stained the other man’s cheeks, and he didn’t look at Pedro.

  “I know, it’s pathetic, but I can’t stand the sight of blood and I have a phobia of needles.” A shudder went through him at saying the words, as though voicing them out loud cost him. “Peyton has always been Alicia’s birth partner, and normally she has straightforward and fast births, but this time…. Fuck.”

  A heavy silence fell between them as they waited for news. There was nothing Pedro could say to reassure the other man after all.

  Instead he focused on the slow ticking of the hospital clock and his last image of Peyton as she followed her sister into theater.

  Pale, worried, and quietly determined, that had been his pequeñita. Her inner strength was one of the things he loved most about her, and once they’d put this whole sorry business behind them, he would tell her so too.

  “Can I ask you something?” James said, and Pedro focused his attention back on the other man. “A personal question?”

  “You can ask, but I might not answer it,” Pedro said, and James nodded, that blush of his deepening.

  “Why do you, you know…” James took a deep breath, and Pedro’s eyebrows rose. “I mean, you look normal enough, so why…. Fuck it, why do you feel the need to beat up on women?”

  James fidgeted on his seat when Pedro didn’t answer him straightway, and the sadist in him enjoyed the other man’s discomfiture immensely. However, this was Peyton’s family, and he knew they were important to her, so he latched onto the least obnoxious part of that question.

  “How did you expect me to look, exactly?” he asked and James shrugged.

  “I don’t know. Like some monster, I guess. I mean I saw her bruises, and she says it was all consensual, but I can’t get my head around that.”

  James finally looked up to properly look at him, and Pedro sighed.

  “Then don’t,” he said, and James blinked in surprise.

  “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t try and get your head around it. You don’t have to understand
it, just accept the fact that this is something Peyton needs. It doesn’t make what we have wrong, or perverted, or whatever else you want to call it. It just means it’s not for you.”

  Pedro smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Missionary does nothing for me, so I guess that makes us even.”

  James colored further and mumbled something that Pedro didn’t catch, and his grin deepened.

  “And I bet missionary is not all that you do, either. Human sexuality is a complicated subject, after all. And for the record, I don’t beat up on women. I have never hit a woman in anger and I never will. Do I leave marks and bruises? Sure I do. I love nothing more than to see my partner at my mercy, but only in our negotiated terms, and Peyton always has the power to cry red.”

  At the other man’s confused expression, he smiled.

  “It’s a safe word that will stop all play immediately.”

  “And has she ever used it?” James asked and Pedro shook his head.

  “No, but I can assure you, if she did, I would stop, and find out why she felt the need to do so. I love Peyton, and I will do anything to keep her safe.”

  It felt good to say the words out loud, and James nodded.

  A soft gasp behind them made both men swing round to find Peyton stood there. The nurse behind her was grinning from ear to ear, but Pedro only had eyes for his pequeñita. Had she heard him say all that? Judging by the fine sheen of tears in her eyes, she might well have done. Peyton tore her gaze from his and focused on James.

  “Go and see them, James. Your wife and daughters are waiting for you in recovery.”

  James whooped, drew a startled looking Peyton in for hug and kissed her, and stormed from the room with a speed an athlete would have been proud of. The nurse followed him out at a more sedate pace, leaving Pedro and Peyton on their own in the room, and a heavy silence fell between them.

  When Peyton finally spoke he had to strain to hear her whispered words.

  “Did you mean what you said to James?” she asked. Pedro’s throat constricted at the wealth of uncertainty behind those halting words, and the way she worried her bottom lip between her teeth.

  He stepped closer, wrapped a hand into her ponytail, and tilted her head up until he could run his nose along her neck and inhale her sweet scent. Peyton went limp against him when he bit down on the fleshy part of her ear and whispered his feelings.

  “Si, pequeñita. Te quiero mucho.”

  He pulled back to study her expression, and kissed the tears off her face.

  “I thought you wanted nothing more to do with me, after what happened, and I’m so sorry. I was so stupid. I thought—”

  Pedro shut her up by kissing her, and she kissed him back with a passion that matched his. Marching her backward until her back hit the wall, he crowded her against it and deepened the kiss further, until his screaming lungs reminded him of the need for oxygen. Over their heavy breaths and the blood roaring in his ears, the noises of a busy hospital invaded his consciousness, and he dropped the hem of her dress, adjusted his throbbing dick, and pulled the T-shirt out of his trousers to hide his raging hard-on.

  Peyton giggled when she noticed and licked her lips in such a deliberate way that Pedro groaned.

  “You’ll pay for that, minx, when I get you home.”

  “Oh, I sure hope so, Sir,” Peyton said and her smile lit up her entire face. A bubble of happiness exploded in his Pedro’s gut, and they stood grinning at each other like lovesick fools, until discreet throat clearing from the door broke through to them.

  “Excuse the interruption, but Mr. and Mrs. Balling thought you might like to see their daughters, so if you follow me.”

  Peyton slipped her hand in his, as they followed the health care assistant through the hospital corridors. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him as they stepped into the room.

  A radiant Alicia cradled one tiny, pink wrapped bundle while James held another, and Pedro swallowed around the lump in his throat when James stepped up to him and handed him the little girl.

  “Here, trust me, this is the only cuddle you’ll get. Neither one of us will get a look in once Alicia is on her feet again. She doesn’t relinquish her babies easily.”

  Alicia grinned and stuck her tongue out at her husband, while handing Peyton the other bundle. Sweat broke out on Pedro’s forehead as he did his best to not drop the wriggling bundle of tiny humanity, James handed him. The baby girl was wide awake and stared up at him with deep blue eyes, and Peyton’s laughter rang in his ears.

  “Don’t look so worried. She won’t break, you know.”

  He looked up to see Peyton expertly cradling her niece, and the expression on her face tightened his gut. She would be such a natural mother, when she decided the time was right for her.

  “We have some more news for you,” Alicia said and Pedro looked toward Peyton’s sister.

  “We’re going to get rid of that maternity nurse, aren’t we, James?”

  Her husband nodded, and Peyton whooped.

  “God, you have no idea who glad I am to hear that. That woman gives me the creeps. Will you manage okay though?” she asked and Alicia smiled and took the baby off her again.

  “Yes, we will. James is going to continue to work from home, and we’ll get an au pair to help with the older kids. We’ll be fine. These girls are our last ones, and we both want to enjoy them.”

  Pedro’s bundle started to cry, and Alicia held out her arms for her daughter. Pedro had to smile at the way the infant calmed instantly when Peyton’s sister tucked her under her arm, and lifting her top, fed the little mite.

  He cleared his throat to get rid of the emotional lump clogging it up, and Peyton snuggled into his side.

  “Right, well, I shall take Peyton home, and leave you two to enjoy your daughters.”

  James stuck out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Pedro clasped it.

  “Thank you for your help, and for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about the whole police thing.”

  Pedro nodded, and Peyton tensed next to him.

  “Apology accepted. You did what you thought was best in an effort to protect your family. I can understand that. Let’s just draw a line under it, and move on.”

  “If there is anything I can do to help make this go away…”

  Pedro laughed.

  “Slade is on top of that. Peyton will release the original article she wrote and that will set the record straight.”

  He grinned at Peyton’s predictable response as she stepped away from him and put her hands on her hips.

  “Oh, I will, will I?” she asked and glared up at him.

  Alicia blinked and James took a step back.

  “I told Slade I have no intention of trusting anyone else in the press with this. I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”

  “Oh, I can’t can I?” Pedro raised an eyebrow, and the most delightful blush stole across her pale features, and she hastily dropped her gaze to his boots. His fingers itched to put her over his knee, but instead he cupped her chin and tipped her head back up.

  “It’s your decision, but know this. You can trust Slade’s contact. We have used him before, and besides…” He winked at her. “I seem to recall someone telling me not so long ago that not all reporters were sleaze bags. I wonder who that might have been?”

  James coughed and Alicia giggled, and Peyton’s eyes flashed fire at him.

  “Well, yes, that was before…” she said, and he tightened his grip on her chin.

  “Before what?” he asked.

  “Before I fell in love with this overbearing Domly type, you see.”

  Pedro’s gut twisted anew at the emotion shimmering in her eyes, and he brushed a kiss across her lips.

  “Domly type, huh? Time to get you home and show you exactly what we Domly types are capable of.”

  Epilogue

  The club was packed to capacity tonight, and an air of expectancy filled the air. This was the first
auction to be held in the club since the shit hit the fan and Club Spectrum had come under a lot of public scrutiny. Slade’s contact had indeed proved trustworthy, and Peyton’s article had put an end to the endless rounds of speculation.

  There would always be people who just didn’t get it, but there had been an influx of new members recently, who wanted to find out more about the lifestyle. It kept Slade and Scarlett busy and Peyton too. Slade had offered her a position as public relations officer for the club, and Peyton was now in charge of handling the press and public enquiries. It was a job she loved, and flexible enough to enable her to spend lots of time with Alicia and her nieces and nephews. Pedro had taken on his role as honorary uncle with great aplomb, and even Peyton’s mother had warmed to him once he’d charmed the support stockings off her.

  Peyton grinned at her reflection and fingered the collar Pedro had given her. The ceremony had been an intimate affair held at the club with Slade, Laura, Scarlett, Mike, and Jonas, the only ones in attendance, and it had meant the world to Peyton. Perhaps even more so than the heavy engagement ring she was also sporting. She twirled the stone around and smiled to herself.

  Who knew her very own sadistic Dom was such a romantic? Pedro had dropped to one knee in the middle of a busy restaurant, and proposed to her on her birthday. No one had been more surprised at her immediate yes than Peyton herself, but the truth was that she couldn’t imagine her life without Pedro in it. They might only have known each other a few short months, but she knew she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, so why wait?

  The door to the ladies room burst open and a flustered-looking Rissa burst through. The petite brunette looked on the verge of tears, and she visibly startled when she saw Peyton.

  “Whatever is the matter, Rissa?” Peyton asked, and the other woman shook her head.

  “Nothing…it’s just.”

  The door opened and an annoyed-looking Scarlett stepped through. Rissa shrunk in on herself further, and Peyton hastily dropped her gaze to the floor. Scarlett this pissed was never a good thing. A lot hung on the success of this auction. All proceeds were going to a charity for victims of domestic abuse.

 

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