by Rebel Rose
She looks at me for a moment and then slowly nods. “All right.”
I hold her in my arms the whole way home, just the way I did on the night that I slipped her the sedative cocktail and brought her from the hotel to my house. This time isn’t a lot different. She’s sedated and sleeping in my arms with my hand resting over her chest, monitoring the rate of her breathing and beat of her heart.
I love the fuck out of this girl. My love is beyond reason, and I would do anything in the world for her without a bit of hesitation.
Ray opens the door and walks ahead of me as I carry her into the house and up the stairs to our bedroom. He pulls back the covers, and I lower her to her side of our bed.
“Please take off my dress, Tristan. It’s uncomfortable.”
Her dress has blood splattered down the front. Her blood. I wish I had thought ahead and had someone pick up a change of clothes for her so she wouldn’t have to wear it home when she was discharged from the hospital.
“Thank you, Ray. That’ll be all.”
“Yes, sir.”
I sit beside her on the bed, and she rolls to her stomach, allowing me to lower her zipper. “Do you want me to get you a gown?”
“I want to sleep in one of your T-shirts.”
I smile at her request. “Okay, love.”
I could go to my closet and take out one of my clean undershirts, but instead I grab the neck of the T-shirt that I’m wearing and pull it over my head. I want her surrounded by my smell so she can breathe me in while she sleeps. So she can feel safe.
She turns onto her side into the fetal position and is back asleep in a matter of no time. How do I know? Because she’s snoring. God, how I’ve missed that damn snore this week.
I sit in the corner chair and watch her sleep. And I’m content. For now. But we have to talk when she’s awake and feeling better. We have to work out this issue. I can’t be apart from her anymore. And I hope that she feels the same.
Emma Lia is still sleeping the next morning when I step away from her side to call Cat. If there’s ever been a time to dread a phone call and be excited about it at the same time then this is it.
“Hello, Tristan.”
“Hey, Cat. Are you busy?”
“I’m always busy, but I can make time for you. What’s going on?”
“It’s Emma Lia. She needs to see you.”
Cat hesitates a moment. “Okay. Is everything all right?”
“Well, we’re hoping that you can answer that question.”
“Tell me what’s going on.”
“She was robbed last night.”
“Oh my God. Is she all right?”
“She’s banged up. The doctor at the ER said that she’s fine, but I want you to examine her.”
“You know I don’t mind doing so, but I’m not a trauma doctor.”
“He kicked her in the stomach. And there’s a chance that she could be pregnant.”
Another pause. “The type of IUD that I placed releases hormones and will sometimes alter the menstrual cycle. If her period is late, you shouldn’t be worried about a pregnancy.”
Here we go. This is the part where Cat is going to be pissed off at me. “She doesn’t have an IUD anymore.”
A third pause. “How do you know that she no longer has the IUD?”
“Funny story, Cat.”
“Tristan… what have you done?”
“Why do you assume that I have done something?”
“Because I know you and any time you lead off with ‘funny story,’ it’s never funny.” She’s right. I’m no comedian; I’m far too dour to be funny.
“All right. I did do something, but don’t freak out.”
“Your telling me to not freak out freaks me out.”
“I took it out.” There. I’ve admitted it.
“You took what out?”
Shit. She’s going to make me spell it out? “The IUD.”
“You… took… out… the… IUD?” Cat mutters something that I can’t make out. “Why in the fuck would you do that?”
“Why do you usually take out IUDs?”
“I take IUDs out because I’m a doctor and either a patient has complications related to the device or the patient desires pregnancy. I don’t have a fucking clue why you, not a physician, I might add, would take a birth control device out of a woman that you are having sex with on a regular basis.”
“Well, I didn’t take it out because she was having complications.”
“You’re trying to get Emma Lia pregnant?” I hear the disbelief in her voice.
“Yes… well, no.”
“Which is it?” Cat asks.
“I was trying, but I’m not now. We had a huge argument about it.” I might as well admit to the rest of it. “I removed it without telling her.”
“I need you to explain that one in more detail,” she says.
“She was tied to the bed with a spreader bar between her legs and wearing a blindfold when I pulled it out. She didn’t know.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Tristan.”
“I’m not.”
“How long has it been out?”
“Over a month.”
“Are you certain that it came out intact? There could be some serious complications if part of it is still in the uterus.”
Okay. So now I’m a little concerned. “It looked like a white plastic T with a string attached to it.”
“Sounds like it was intact, but I want to check for myself to be sure.”
“They did an ultrasound last night and didn’t see a baby.”
“Well, there’s a definite chance that you’ve been successful at getting her pregnant, but she isn’t far enough along for the embryo to show on a scan. How many days since her last period started?”
“Three weeks and three days. She should start this Wednesday.” I know because I keep up with her periods better than she does.
“I want you to call the office and tell the receptionist that I want to see her in the clinic on Friday. We’ll do an hCG, and if it’s positive, we’ll have a look with the ultrasound and see if we can find a sac in the uterus. If her period comes between now and Friday, I still want to see her.”
“Does she need to be taking prenatal vitamins in the meantime?”
“It’s fine for her to take over-the-counter prenatal vitamins until we see what’s going on.”
“Thanks, Cat. We’ll see you on Friday.”
I’ve pampered Emma Lia for days. I’ve brought all of her meals on a tray to her in bed; prepared her bath every night with a fragrant bath bomb, her favorite music playing; given her my undershirts to sleep in; and read Anna Karenina aloud to her until she has fallen asleep.
But tonight, I’m putting Anna Karenina on the shelf. It’s time for us to talk about us and our relationship. I’ve considered my words for days—over a week really—and I feel prepared.
“No reading tonight, love.”
“Do you have business to tend?” she asks.
“Yes, but not with the casinos. My business is with you. It’s been almost two weeks. We have to talk about us and where we go from here.”
Her chest expands and then deflates. “I’ve had time to think about us, and I still have a lot of uncertainty about where our relationship is going. I only know that you owe me honesty. Because without that, we are nothing, Tristan. We are not Dom and sub. We are not Master and slave. We aren’t even boyfriend and girlfriend. You’re just a weak man taking advantage of me.”
I hate that she sees me that way, but every word that she’s saying is true. “You are right, mon bien-aimé.”
“As my Dom, you have responsibilities.”
“I’ve had time to reflect upon what I’ve done, and I’ve come to see many things that I didn’t before. You were right when you said that I was ruthless. I am a ruthless motherfucker. My actions were selfish without regard for you or the child that I might have been creating with you. And it may be the hardest lesson I�
�ve ever learned, but I now know that although you are my submissive, you are your own person. Your being here and everything that you give me is of your choosing. You are a butterfly who landed in my open palm and if I close my hand, your choice to stay is gone. But if I leave my hand open and your choice is to stay, your presence in my life is even more precious.”
She moves to all fours and crawls into my lap, allowing me to cradle her like a child. “A butterfly in your palm—that’s a perfect analogy.”
I lower my face, resting my cheek on the top of her head. “I may be a hard person to love, but when I love, it’s with everything that I have. And I give you all that I have.”
“I know that you’re not perfect, Tristan. I should want to slap your face. I should want to scream at you and tell you that you’re a selfish bastard. I should push you away and tell you that I hate you. That’s what a normal woman would do. But I am not a normal woman. I am a submissive. And I am yours. You’re the only one that I want.”
I squeeze her a little tighter. “You give me everything that I need, mon bien-aimé. But more importantly, you give me feelings that I never thought I needed. I love you, and it is my greatest hope that you can be patient and wait, giving me time to prove it.”
“Love is patient. I can wait until the end of time.”
Love is patient and there is no room for pride. Not even for a Dom.
I lift her from my lap and move to the bedside, pulling her to the edge so she’s standing with me. I lower my head and drop to my knees before her. With my hands gripping her hips, I press my forehead to her stomach. “I swear to give you nothing but raw, naked truth from this day forward. And I beg for your forgiveness, mon bien-aimé.”
I am a Dom on my knees for my submissive. I am placing myself below her, laying bare my soul. My gesture is a profound act of devotion. Very few actions could be more expressive about the deep regret I feel for the way that I’ve betrayed her.
She lowers herself to the floor so that we’re kneeling together. “I am your submissive. I never need you to be below me.”
As a submissive, she could revel in this moment. Take pleasure in my kneeling before her, but she doesn’t. Because she is my true submissive and doesn’t delight in seeing me beneath her.
“I belong on my knees, below you, for what I’ve done.”
“You don’t, Tristan. I’m choosing to forgive you for this because I understand why you did it. I never want to be separated from you either, and I know the lengths that I go for you. But don’t mistake my forgiveness for weakness.”
“I would never see you as weak because you choose to forgive me. It takes strength to forgive. Not weakness.”
“I give you my submission and my forgiveness because I feel that you are worthy of it. Don’t ever make me question that again.”
“I won’t, mon bien-aimé. Never again.”
“And for future reference, not telling me something because you don’t want to piss me off is probably the best way to piss me off.”
“Understood.”
I stand, taking her with me. I guide her to the side of the bed and sit beside her, placing my hand on her stomach. “We may have a little Creole baby in there.”
She smiles and it eases my nerves a bit. “I suppose we should be figuring that out.”
“I haven’t brought it up because I wasn’t sure how you felt about it, but I called Cat. She wants to see you at the clinic on Friday. We have an appointment at eleven.”
Her brow lifts. “We? Does that mean that you’re going to take off your clothes and have your body prodded with fingers and medical instruments?”
“No, but I’ll hold your hand while yours is.”
“As you should.”
“Because I’m the reason you may be pregnant or because you still want to be my wife?”
She takes my hand in hers, our fingers intertwining. “Both.”
My fingers toy with her. “I spoke with Elizabeth’s husband at Easton’s party about the transition from Dom to husband. He was very encouraging about marriage but children… he discouraged them. At least for a little while. He said that their older child was born very early in the marriage and that he wasn’t prepared to share Elizabeth.”
“A baby would be a huge adjustment, for sure.”
“I understand Brian’s point, but I think I would see our child as an extension of you. Just more of you to love.”
“That’s a sweet thing to say.”
“I can be sweet.”
She looks down at our toying fingers. “Do you want me to be pregnant?”
I can’t lie. “I would be very happy if you were.”
“And if I’m not?”
I consider that for a moment. “If you’re not, I’d like to get married and work on it.”
“Have you ever even been around babies?”
I think about her question for a moment and I can’t recall one. “No.”
“Then how do you know that you want them?”
That’s a question I’ve been considering since before I pulled the IUD.
“I have friends, but no real family. My father was it for me until I learned the truth about him, so I don’t even have him in my life now. If not for you, I would have no one. I want you to be my wife, and I want us to start a family. I have a lot of love to give, but I also want to be loved.”
“You are loved, Tristan. Very loved.”
“Then prove it and marry me.”
“Ask me.”
Did she not hear me? “I just did.”
“No. You said ‘marry me’ as though it was an order or command. I may be your submissive, but I want to be properly asked.”
“Does properly mean that I must ask your father for your hand?”
“I think that it would be a very nice gesture, considering the rough start you had with him.”
Boy, did we have a rough start. I bet when he pulled that gun on me, he never imagined that I would one day be asking for his daughter’s hand in marriage.
“I’m not accustomed to asking for anything. I take what I want.”
“I’m well aware, caveman. But would you do this for me?”
“You already know that I will do anything for you.”
“How soon do you want to marry me?”
“Soon.” Tomorrow. Now. Yesterday. Any of those will work.
“Then I guess you’d better be rehearsing what you’re going to say to Conrad.”
40
Emma Lia Grant
The wait to see if I’m pregnant has been hell but it ends today. They’ve drawn my blood and told me to expect the results in thirty minutes. More hell as I sit here on this exam table.
“It’s a good thing that you and Cat know each other. I don’t think that we could tell any other OB-GYN that you pulled out my IUD. They’d think you were crazy.”
Tristan chuckles. “I’m pretty sure that Cat thinks I’m crazy for doing it. But I can’t help myself around you. You make me do things that are very out of character.”
“You’re a Dom. I don’t make you do anything, so don’t try to blame me for your bad behavior.”
“Oh, I most certainly do blame you. You’re too fucking sexy for your own good.”
“And you’re too horny for your own good.”
“I can’t argue with you on that one, baby. I love being inside you. Your mouth, your pussy, your ass. I’ll take any of it. Or all of it.”
This is not the place for this conversation. “Shh… someone might hear you.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.”
“Cat already knows that I fuck every hole that you have.”
I wasn’t planning to get pregnant, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t want this time to be special. “Stop, Tristan. We’re here to find out if we’re having a baby, and you’re ruining this moment for me by saying those vulgar things.”
He sighs. “You’re right, baby. I’m nervous and trying to disguise my feelings, but it’s
coming off as being thoughtless and insensitive. I’m sorry. I swear that I’m not trying to be a dickhead.”
“I love your filthy mouth. Just not when I’m on an exam table about to find out if I’m going to have your baby.”
Your baby. I bet that he loves hearing me say that.
Tristan hasn’t said anything else about wanting me to be pregnant, but I know that his hopes are at an all-time high. He wants to get that news so badly today—that his baby is growing inside of me.
And what do I want? I wouldn’t have chosen to get pregnant right now. I’d like to be married first and have some time for just the two of us, but I’ll be happy if there’s a piece of him inside me. I love him, so how could I not be?
Tristan’s toes are on the floor, but his leg is bouncing up and down like crazy. “I haven’t asked. Do you feel pregnant?”
“I’ve never been pregnant, Tristan. I don’t know what it feels like.”
He grunts and his leg bounces faster. A minute passes and he turns to look at me again. “You haven’t been nauseous?”
“I was the day after Easton’s party, but I think that we can blame the wine for that.”
He gets up and goes to the diagram of a growing fetus on the wall. “Are your breasts sore or tender?”
“Not that I’m aware of.”
He continues staring at the diagram. “You’re two days late. Have you ever been that late before?”
“I’m sure I have been at one time or another.”
“How can you be so calm?”
He thinks I’m calm? “My poker face must be exceptional. I’m nervous as fuck.”
“You know what happens when you use crass language, mon bien-aimé.”
I don’t get to reply because the door opens, and Cat comes into the room, holding a sheet of paper. “Results are in. Who wants to guess at what they are?”
“I can’t take it anymore. Just tell me,” Tristan says.
Cat punches Tristan in the arm. “Well hell, you’re no fun.”
“I’ll guess if he won’t.”
“Now see? She’s fun.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Cat smiles and slaps the results against Tristan’s chest. “She’s pregnant on the first try. Why am I not surprised?”
