Puck Me Baby

by Lili Valente

  “Her water broke five minutes ago. They’ve got the ambulance waiting out front, and they’re bringing her down now. If you hurry, you might be able to catch a ride to the hospital with them.” Swindle grins, punching my arm affectionately as he urges me toward the tunnel. “Go have a baby, son. We’ll take care of Vegas for you.”

  I jog toward the tunnel as the home crowd erupts into a fresh round of cheers and the organist breaks out into a rousing, yet emotional, rendition of “Beautiful Boy” by John Lennon.

  Because these people know I’m having a boy. They’re more than fans—the Portland home crowd is family, an incredible part of this weird, wonderful city I’m lucky enough to call home.

  I make it out of the locker room in record time, probably because I leave every bit of padding and my uniform on, settling for swapping skates for boots before I make a run for the front of the arena. I burst through the doors into the cool spring night just as the EMTs are closing the back of the ambulance.

  “Wait! I’m here!” I shout, sprinting for the edge of the sidewalk. “I’m the father!”

  “Wait! He’s here, he’s here!” Mandy wails from inside the vehicle. A moment later the doors swing open, revealing the stern face of same brunette EMT—Kara—who accompanied us to the emergency room last fall.

  “Get in here, daddy,” Kara says, jabbing a finger at the bucket seat. “You know the drill. Buckle up and stay out of my way, we’re off to have a baby.”

  I sit down and strap in as best I can with the extra bulk and padding in the way, meeting Mandy’s eyes across the heads of the EMTs as the ambulance launches into the stream of traffic, sirens blaring.

  “It’s happening! It’s really happening,” she shouts with a giddy grin.

  “It is,” I say, wishing I could touch her, kiss her, but knowing Kara wasn’t kidding about me staying out of the way. “Are you ready, baby?”

  “I’m scared out of my mind,” she says, still grinning. “How about you?”

  “Terrified,” I say as a laugh bubbles up from somewhere near my churning stomach. Mandy laughs, too, but her giggle ends with an abrupt wince.

  “Ouch,” she says, grimacing as she runs a hand over her belly. “I think that was a real contraction. It didn’t feel very good.”

  “Only going to get worse,” Kara says cheerily, “but it’ll all be forgotten the moment you see that little face.”

  We reach the hospital and Mandy is checked in with a surprising lack of urgency, considering the contractions are coming faster, her water’s already broken, and the baby is breech and going to need surgical intervention. But the nurses wave away our worry, assure us Dr. Nash is already on her way, and whisk us calmly up to labor and delivery, where Mandy is hooked up to machines to monitor her and baby’s heartbeat, and a sleepy-looking ultrasound tech completes a last-minute scan, revealing the plot twist.

  “Are you sure?” Mandy asks, her face going pale. “He’s not breech anymore?”

  “Nope.” The ultrasound tech stands, stretching his arms overhead as he lets out a yawn. “He’s head down and ready to go. You’ll get to have this one naturally. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks,” Mandy says weakly, eyes going wide as she turns to me and whispers, “I’m not sure I want it naturally anymore. It hurts a lot more than I thought it would.”

  “We’ll talk to Dr. Nash,” I assure her, holding her hand tight. “As soon as she gets here. See what she thinks.”

  Mandy’s nod transforms into another wince as fresh sweat breaks out along her hairline. “Oh shoot. Shoot, shoot, shoot. It hurts worse than demon peppers. My back is on fire, Alexi. I think he’s trying to come out my tailbone. Tell him he can’t come out my tailbone.”

  I lean down, whispering against her belly. “You can’t come out her tailbone, buddy. Take it easy on your mama, okay?”

  But our little guy doesn’t take it easy, and by the time Dr. Nash arrives, Mandy’s too far along for an epidural. The labor is progressing at a fast, furious pace, and all we can do now is hang on for the ride.

  “Oh my God, this is torture,” Mandy shouts forty-five minutes later, tears in her eyes and sweat pouring down her neck. “This is the worst! Why did no one tell me this was the worst? Why didn’t I listen? Why did I assume actresses in movies were being melodramatic? How on earth is it possible that it really hurts this bad?”

  “Get ready to push on the next contraction,” Dr. Nash says from the end of the bed. “You’re fully dilated, Mandy. This little boy is going to be here before we know it.”

  “You’ve got this baby,” I say, wishing I could take the pain for her. I would rather be ripped apart by wild horses than watch the woman I love suffer, feeling so fucking helpless to give her any relief.

  Mandy moans pitifully. “I don’t have it. It has me. Will you still love me if I poop on the delivery table?”

  “Yes,” I say, breath rushing out. “I’d still love you if you pooped on my shoe.”

  “That’s disgusting, Alexi,” she says, her laugh turning into a gasp as another contraction hits.

  “Here we go, Mandy,” Dr. Nash says. “Push, honey, push hard!”

  The next hour passes in a blur of pushing and recovering from pushing and encouraging Mandy to keep going no matter how scary and overwhelming and fucking brutal the contractions get. And like the hero she is, my girl stays strong until the final push, bringing Eli Nicholas Petrov into the world at ten fifty-three p.m., a little over an hour after the Badgers win the game that will take us to the playoffs.

  And I’m psyched for my team, I am, but from the moment I hold my son for the first time, I know he has rearranged the world forever. From this moment on, nothing will ever be as exciting or awe-inspiring as holding this perfect little man in my arms.

  “He’s so beautiful,” Mandy whispers later in the recovery room, running her finger back and forth over Eli’s delicate hand as he sleeps. “Even prettier than I thought he would be.”

  “He has your eyes,” I say, throat tight with emotion. “I was hoping he would. Thank you.”

  “I would like to take credit, baby, but nature decided this one,” she says, smiling as she leans her head against my shoulder.

  “Not for the eyes. For Eli. And for you. And for being my family. I can’t believe I got this lucky.”

  “You really did hit the jack pot,” she says.

  I turn, smiling down at her. “Don’t I know it.”

  “You’re not too bad, yourself,” she says, eyes shining as she adds in a serious voice, “I’m so happy, Alexi. I’m not sure my heart can take it.”

  “It can,” I promise. “You’ve got a good heart in that fine-ass chest of yours.”

  She shakes her head. “My chest is ridiculous. My boobs are bigger than Eli’s head. He looked so tiny when he was nursing.”

  “Don’t talk that way about my boobs.” I lean down, careful not to disturb the baby sleeping warm and heavy in my arms, and whisper to her left breast, “Don’t listen to her. You’re beautiful, leftie. You’re a sexy, milky angel.”

  Mandy’s laugh ends in a soft hum of discomfort. “Ouch. It hurts to laugh. Stop being funny.”

  “Yes ma’am.” I kiss her forehead. “Do you want me to put him in the bassinet so you can try to get some sleep?”

  “No way.” Her fingers curl around my arm. “I want to stay right here, right like this, with you and our baby, forever and ever.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  We don’t make it to forever, but we last long enough for me to imprint the moment in my memory, this first of many moments over the next few months when I discover how much bigger my heart can get, how much deeper I can love, how much better being a family is than I even imagined.

  And in early October, when Mandy finally walks down the aisle toward me, dressed in white and smiling just for me, I’m a different man. I’m a man that now knows love isn’t a trap or a box; it’s a pair of wings and a wide-open sky and absolutely no limits to how high you
can fly.

  *

  THE END

  *

  Love red HOT holiday reads?

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  Snowbound with the Billionaire,

  coming your way November 2017!

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  About the Author

  Lili Valente has slept under the stars in Greece, eaten dinner at midnight with French men who couldn’t be trusted to keep their mouths on their food, and walked alone through Munich’s red light district after dark and lived to tell the tale.

  *

  These days you can find her writing in a tent beside the sea, drinking coconut water and thinking delightfully dirty thoughts.

  Lili loves to hear from her readers…

  www.lilivalente.com

  lili.valente.romance@gmail.com

  Also By Lili Valente

  The Bad Motherpuckers Series

  Hot as Puck

  Sexy Motherpucker

  Puck-a-Holic

  Puck me Baby

  Learn more here…

  *

  Sexy Flirty Dirty

  Romantic Comedy:

  *

  Magnificent Bastard

  Spectacular Rascal

  Incredible You

  Meant For You

  Learn more here…

  *

  Master Me Series:

  Snowbound with the Billionaire

  Snowed in with the Boss

  Masquerade with the Master

  Learn more here…

  *

  Under His Command Series:

  *

  Controlling Her Pleasure (free)

  Commanding Her Trust

  Claiming Her Heart

  Learn more here…

  *

  Bought by the Billionaire Series:

  *

  Dark Domination (free)

  Deep Domination

  Desperate Domination

  Divine Domination

  Learn more here…

  *

  Kidnapped by the Billionaire Series:

  *

  Filthy Wicked Love

  Crazy Beautiful Love

  One More Shameless Night

  Learn more here…

  *

  To the Bone Series:

  *

  A Love so Dangerous

  A Love so Deadly

  A Love so Deep

  Learn more here…

  Sneak Peek

  Snowbound with the Billionaire

  *

  Panties off, Kitten. I want a hell of a lot more than your mouth under the mistletoe tonight…

  *

  I’ve got a reputation for being a good man, a generous man, who does compassionate things with his fortune.

  *

  But tonight’s generosity isn’t about money. It’s about my hands, my mouth, my undivided erotic attention, and a set of vintage nipple clamps with Dakota Joy’s name on them.

  *

  The only woman I’ve ever loved isn’t going to be won back with glittering presents under the tree. She’s a submissive who needs to be reminded that I’m the only man who makes her blood hot and her body ache, that I’m the one who crashed through the walls around her heart and convinced her to kneel at my feet.

  *

  Getting snowed in at my abandoned hotel on Christmas Eve is a stroke of good luck.

  *

  What I do with that luck is sweet, sinful holiday magic…

  *

  We haven’t even gotten started, sweetheart. Tonight, I’m going to make you forget who you are, what you are, that you were ever anything but mine.

  *

  WARNING: This WHITE HOT holiday read contains Domination, spanking, naughty toys, and a sexy as sin alpha male who will rock you all around the Christmas tree and then some. Hotness level—Frosty melts into a puddle, Rudolph’s nose flashes hot damn red, and Santa just moved your name to the top of the naughty list.

  PROLOGUE

  *

  Dakota

  *

  “Are you sure this is all you want?” He moves in close, his heat warming my back, making my bare skin prickle with awareness. “No presents, no jewelry, no private tour of the Empire State Building complete with champagne and surprises? You know I like to surprise you.”

  “I do. And I love your surprises.” My toes squirm into the thick carpet as my lashes flutter behind the blindfold covering my face from my forehead to the top of my nose. “But tonight, all I want is you.” I smile. “And your cock.”

  “That’s good,” he says, the affection in his voice making my heart beat faster. “My cock and I are kind of a package deal. Especially where you’re concerned.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Oh yeah.” He moves closer, but still not close enough.

  I bite my lip, fighting the need to turn and wrap my arms around his neck, knowing better than to make the first move when we’re so close to the start of the game.

  But that doesn’t mean I can’t move things along…

  “That’s nice to hear,” I say with a heavy sigh. “But I’m not sure I believe you, babe. It feels like I haven’t seen your cock in forever.”

  “It has been nearly twenty-four hours…” He hums in feigned dismay, making my smile stretch wider. “Then I’ll have to prove my cock’s devotion to you, Miss Fleming. Are you ready to play?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I whisper, my head spinning with anticipation.

  “Then close your eyes.” His breath is warm in my ear as his hands come to rest on my hips, making my nerve endings sizzle with a combination of arousal and relief because even twenty-four hours without his skin against mine is too much.

  “Are they closed, Dakota?” His palms skim up my stomach to rest on my ribs, just below where I’m desperate for him to touch me. To cup my breasts and pinch my nipples and take me to the hot, hungry places I’ve only ever been with him.

  With my man, my love, my Master.

  Not too long ago, that word made me laugh out loud at the ridiculousness of grown people playing silly sex games. Now it makes me wet. Instantly, desperately wet, from the moment my Master tells me to get on my knees until the moment our game is finished.

  “I’m serious, beautiful.” Garrett flicks a finger over my erect nipple, making me gasp and lightning-fierce desire surge between my legs. “Don’t make me ask again.”

  “But I’m wearing a blindfold, Sir.” I arch my spine until my bottom brushes against where he’s hard, the feel of the thick ridge of his cock through his thin tuxedo pants making my pussy throb. “And maybe my eyes are closed. You can’t know for sure.”

  “I know, Kitten. Because I know you and how you like to test me.” His palm flattens over my belly, his hand so wide his fingers span from hipbone to hipbone as he pins my ass tight to his erection.

  And God, I can feel every inch of him, every thick, pulsing centimeter.

  My jaw clenches, and my fingers curl into fists as I rock my hips, rubbing my tailbone against his cock. I would prefer to use my hands, but my wrists are already bound together in front of me, wrapped up tight with his tie.

  Though, having him in my mouth would be good, too…

  All night long, while we spun through a ballroom decorated with holly and mistletoe, dancing to syrupy-sweet carols and classic holiday songs crooned into the mic at the top of the Rainbow Room, all I could think about was getting on my knees with Garrett’s cock between my lips. I don’t
know what it was about the warm, holiday vibe that made me desperate to have my mouth fucked hard, but I’m learning not to question things like that. I’m learning to go with what feels right, and being with Garrett always feels right, whether we’re making love slow and sweet or getting as twisted as I’ve ever been in the bedroom.

  “Last chance, beautiful.” Garrett’s middle finger dips low, rubbing lightly over my clit, making me tremble. “If you don’t follow instructions, I’m going to assume you want to be punished.”

  I shiver again, keeping my eyes wide as I whisper, “Oh, no, Sir. Anything but that…”

  “Then bend over.” The words are dark and deep, and the rumble of his Dom voice is enough to make me wetter, even before he grabs my hips and pulls them sharply back.

  The motion forces me to bend, bracing my joined hands against the back of the couch before I fall.

  “You will listen, or you will suffer the consequences.” He jerks my panties down around my thighs, exposing my ass and slick, swollen sex. His warm palm caresses the curve of my hip as he adds in a thick whisper, “You’re not going to be able to sit down tomorrow without thinking about what a bad girl you were tonight, Dakota.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.” My voice is breathy with desire and anticipation of the first blow, the first step in the dance I’ve been dying to dance with him all night long. “I’m so sorry.” But of course I’m not sorry. I’m trembling, aching, eager for his punishment.

  “It’s too late for sorry.” The flat of his hand comes down hard on my backside, making me cry out with pain and relief.

  Thank God he didn’t take my apology seriously. Thank God he knows exactly how I need the game to play out at moments like this, when I’m so close to him but dying to get closer. I’ve tried so hard, but I can’t get there on my own. I always pull away, slipping into the shadows before “I love you” becomes “I’ll die without you.”

  Before Garrett, I assumed I was incapable of being truly vulnerable with a man, but he doesn’t take no for an answer. He pushes me, punishes me, hammering away at the walls surrounding my heart until they shatter. Until I shatter, falling to pieces at his feet, where he is always ready to catch me and put me back together.

  “You will learn to listen.” He spanks me with hard, rhythmic swats that summon a soft grunt from the back of my throat each time his palm connects with my stinging flesh. “Or you will end your night, every night, with your ass in the air and my hand teaching you how I expect you to behave.”