by Charlie Hart
At this, Fallon snorts. “Since when did you start sounding like a politician?”
“What do you care?” Sal asks. “And maybe I want to be a politician. Doesn’t look that hard considering Lawson has most of the US twisted around his finger.”
“You? A politician?” Fallon sneers, clearly needing a punching bag since he can’t take his anger out on the person he most wants to. “Do what you want for your own gain. I, for one, am more interested in making sure my wife is safe.”
I bite down hard on my bottom lip, wanting to step in and defend Sal, but he doesn’t need me to fight his battle. Besides, he isn’t backing down.
“Fuck you, Fallon,” Salinger says icily. “You know nothing about my relationship with Tia.”
“I know it took you a long ass time to--”
“Enough!” I shout. “All of you, it’s too much.”
“I didn’t mean--” Fallon starts.
I raise my hands, letting go of Emerson. “I just need some space, okay?” I exhale, pressing my hands to my face. “I’m not mad at anyone. Emotions have been high. It’s been a big day and…” I rub my temples and lower my voice. “Look, I know I messed up a hundred times and kept more secrets than I should have, so I don’t expect anyone to bow down and forgive me tonight, but I can’t keep rehashing my mistakes the same way you guys can’t keep holding your pasts against one another. Either we’re all in this together or we’re not.”
Silence.
Fallon finally nods, having heard me, and the rest of the men back off too.
“I love how protective you all are of me,” I say wearily. “It means so much to have your loyalty, your trust. But right now I think we all need to cool off. Let’s take some time to clear our heads, all right?”
Giles offers to go get dinner ready and Emerson says he’ll help. Fallon mutters that he’s taking a walk to cool down and Huxley goes off to make a call.
God, he’s always on the phone lately.
In the study, Salinger pours himself a scotch. He takes a sip, looking out the window, as snow falls down heavily outside. He gives me a hard nod before leaving the room.
Part of me wants to go to him, or any of them, to wrap their strength around me, and let their words encourage me that everything will be all right. But I need to think without their opinions influencing what needs to be done.
What do I want?
Does it even matter?
A pregnancy would solve so much and at the same time take away all I’ve held so dear. Freedom.
If I’m dead, this will all have been for nothing.
“You want some company?” Banks asks his voice low, his breath hot on my ear. I feel his solid body behind me and for a moment I consider falling against him, letting him sweep me away from all this fighting and all this fear.
But Banks hasn’t so much as kissed me. He likes keeping me on my toes, always guessing, always wondering. He’s dark and mysterious, and that’s what I find so intriguing about him. He’s like a wild beast that can’t be tamed, and I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be able to tame him. If anyone was going to offer a familiar body to press against my own to comfort me right now, it wouldn’t be his.
Still, as I turn to face him, something deep inside me stirs. Yes, it’s true he hasn't tried to make a move on me but I wonder, if no one else was around to compete for my attention, would he?
On second thought, I know he would. Well, not compete for my attention but I would get his full attention. And I don’t know that having his undivided attention would be a good thing for me. With no experience as serving as a sub, I’m sure he’d give me more than I can handle.
A part of me thinks he might understand me in ways none of the other men here do. It makes me curious about him. We’ve both spent so much time with our noses in books, and I wonder what a man like him could teach me?
“I wouldn’t turn you away if you wanted to stay,” I say, placing a hand on his chest.
Despite seeming to work twenty-four hours a day, the man is ripped. I’ve seen his body when we’ve been in the hot tub. Other than the kettlebell I know he keeps in his room, I don’t know how he stays in such good shape.
I run my palm lower, across the ridges of his abs.
Looking down, I see a bulge in his pants and feel my cheeks flush as I consider that fact.
Banks is turned on. By me.
Then I notice the way my nipples poke through the fabric of my top. Imagining him giving me attention seems to have stirred something awake in both of us.
I may be an emotional wreck right now, but I have found that one of the best ways to relieve tension is by losing myself in my husbands. And right now, I want to lose myself in Banks. To submit to his needs, no matter how dark they are.
“I was thinking. We should talk in my room,” he says, possessively tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
I swallow. “Your room?”
With a glint in his eyes, he nods. “I know you were hoping for some downtime, but there’s something I should show you.”
I feel the rise and fall of my chest as I suddenly become hyper-aware of my breathing. It could be due to the fact that my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest and flutter around the room, or it could be my flight or fight response. I know I was hoping to see his darker side, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet. “Show me something?”
“Yes,” he says, looking down at me. He steps closer, and his hand moves to my waist, holding me in place. His strong palms keep me reined in and I feel a flutter at my core, awakening at his touch.
Then Huxley walks into the living room, ending his phone call loudly, and Banks immediately pulls back. His hand falls and my body burns where it had been.
“What did you want to show me?” I ask, but he’s grown stiff and formal once more with Huxley watching. Whatever might have been, won’t be. Not now. Not here. Not like this.
The seconds drag on and I feel the heat emitting from Banks’ body. Suddenly, I find myself craving this reserved man in a way I hadn’t thought possible.
He was the one who suggested getting me pregnant. Is that what’s on his mind?
It must be. No way am I reading this all wrong.
Huxley pours himself a drink, then leaves the room without a word. Alone again, I hope that we can retrace our steps.
Finally, Banks speaks, “I’d like to show you some of my research. You said you have a Ph.D. Well, let’s see how much you understand about your own fertility.”
Realizing he’s not speaking in innuendos, I remember to breathe.
“Right, research.” I’m embarrassed at how deflated I feel. What did I hope he would show me?
I know exactly what I’d hoped for.
Dominance.
Strength.
Primal hunger.
I see it all in his eyes, even under the mask of aloofness he always wears. So, why the hell doesn’t he take me? He can’t possibly think that I’m still some innocent virgin who can’t handle the darker side of my sexuality.
“Can I take a raincheck? I’m not really up for stats tonight,” I say, disappointed by both him and myself.
He nods, his jaw clenching. “Of course.” His eyes though, never leave mine.
There is something he is battling inside and I want to understand.
“Tomorrow.” His dark eyes flash with something I can’t interpret, but it leaves me trembling, and wanting, needing his hands on me. “We’ll go to the lab. We’ll have plenty of alone time to handle everything that we need to take care of.”
I nod. I’m not quite sure what he’s talking about but agree to it anyway. “Tomorrow.”
He turns and leaves the room, leaving me alone. Practically panting for breath.
Despite all the turmoil and unrest in the house, the solitary thing on my mind is Banks. And that bulge in his pants.
Chapter 3
Banks
“Bloody hell,” I mutter, as I leave Tia in the study and walk upst
airs, ignoring the look Fallon gives me when I pass him.
The way I felt standing so close to her reminded me that I could, would lose control if I get emotionally involved.
And that’s one thing I can’t afford.
I take a shower, trying to erase the way it felt to press my hand against her waist, keeping her in place. She looked up at me with eyes filled with yearning, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she wants me.
She may have come to this house a virgin, but now she has experience and she won’t run off scared when I show her what it means to truly fuck. Or if she does, I’ll drag her right back until she’s clawing my back, begging for more.
When I finally have her - and I will have her - I need to keep this purely physical.
I’ll lose myself in her otherwise.
And I won’t lose control, not now. Not after everything I’ve worked so hard for.
I’ve spent years fighting my demons, mastering absolute self-control.
After being raised by an alcoholic father, a man who had little if any understanding of moderation, I learned a thing or two about restraint. The last thing on Earth I want to be is like him.
Weak.
Indulgent.
And a woman is no different than a bottle of vodka, getting emotionally invested in either one will make you lose all your senses.
The hot water runs over my body, and my hand wraps around my shaft. Thinking about her perky nipples poking through her sweater leads me home as I stroke my cock hard, coming at the memory of her.
I’ll have to wait a little while longer. The last thing I want is to take her before she’s ready. I can sense her hesitance, but I can also feel her need. Her want. Her pure desire. But she’s not ready and I won’t take her until she is. I’ll make her prove her worth to me before I take what’s mine.
When I finally have her, she will be on her hands and knees begging for more. Her tight pink pussy has no idea what’s coming her way.
I dry off, hearing the sounds of everyone gathering for dinner. Dressing quickly, I’m ready to move forward with her.
I have to get her pregnant. It’s the only way she’ll survive this.
Sitting at the table, everyone seems slightly more relaxed than we were ninety minutes ago. Open bottles of wine are on the kitchen island, and platters of chicken, rice, and vegetables are on the table.
Once we are all seated, I take a good look at Tia. She’s showered too, her long hair still damp, but she’s wearing a pretty dress that I’m guessing Huxley procured for her. It’s low around the neck accentuating her round breasts. She looks gorgeous.
I watch her, as I often do, wondering how odd it is that she is here at all. Especially now that we know who she truly is. If I thought she was captivating before, I am now invested in a whole new way.
Her father was my idol for a long time. Until the rumors started about what he was actually doing in his labs. How he’d used women like lab rats, many of whom died at his hands.
But they were only rumors. If there was any proof, surely the government would have shut down his studies and put him behind bars years ago. But then again, this world we live in is fucked up. Where monsters rule, and the lines between right and wrong are blurred. I was so close to living in the gray area myself, that I knew how easy it was to forget about morals, especially when fighting for the greater good.
“So tomorrow Banks and I are going to his research lab,” Tia announces.
I glance up from the glass of wine I’d been sipping at.
Across the table from me, Giles raises a brow. “What will you be doing there?”
“I want to understand more about what he means when he says he has options for fertility treatments. I want to see, first hand, what that might actually look like.”
“So, that’s what you want?” Emerson asks, frowning. “To get pregnant?”
Damn, that guy is the bane of my existence. Other people here might think it’s Fallon that can get on my last nerve with his alpha dominance, but it’s Emerson and his home sung hero act that really grates on me.
I know it’s cruel. The guy almost drowned at sea. But he is everything I’m not. He had this idyllic childhood, put a few tickets in the Lottery - that his family saved for on his behalf - and had this beautiful bride served right up to him.
What about the rest of us? Guys like me, who worked for every damn thing we have. There was no daddy who cared about what happened to me. There was no mother with a recipe book to send home to my new bride. No, what I’ve accomplished is because of my own doing.
I’ve earned and accomplished everything I’ve ever had, but it was all snatched away brutally, and I was left with only my brain and work ethic to make me rise again from the ashes of a disgraced family name.
It’s one of the reasons I came here to Alaska, where no one knew my family history.
“I know the statistics for both sides,” Tia answers, swirling the wine in her glass. “And I know all of you married me under the guise that I would do my very best to bear a child. You’ve already put up with so much from me, all of you have,” she says, looking around the table. “I owe it to all of you to at least try.”
It’s the truth and a relief to hear her say it.
I know better than most people that the statistics released by the Federal Government are propaganda. They tell people there is one woman for every ten men.
In reality, it’s becoming closer to fifteen to one.
Of course, no one wants to talk about that. It would only create pandemonium and fear. We already have enough of that.
Things do fare better here in the Pacific Northwest, and it’s the reason Warren Thorne has a state of the art, government-funded research facility in Seattle. Another reason why I came to Alaska to work at a world-renowned laboratory. The findings here are cutting edge and I am at the forefront of it, with much of the research funded by Salinger’s mother herself.
Of course, Tia’s father has access to even more classified research. He’s had the ability to perform tests that Alaska refuses to approve - and when I say Alaska - I really mean Salinger’s mother. She refuses to do any tests that might negatively impact the women participating.
It’s limiting, to say the least.
“So, you’ve made the decision by yourself?” Huxley says coldly.
“I...” Tia chews on her bottom lip.
“Why don’t you just go tomorrow,” Giles says. “Get more information. Nothing has to be decided right away.”
At that, I snort. “Except every time any of you sleep with her you’re putting her at risk. It seems convenient to start caring about the consequences after you’ve all had your way with her.”
“What, are you saying you care the most since you’ve abstained?” Fallon asks.
I can’t help but give a small smile that I know will annoy him to no end. “That is exactly what I’m saying.”
Tia’s eyes flash me a look of pure annoyance.
Emerson though, speaks up. “It’s true, in some ways, what Banks is saying. It hasn’t been very good of us to not think through the implications. Maybe leading with our heads over our hearts is the safer choice.”
I hate that I’m agreeing with Emerson, but I absolutely do. Leading with emotions never does anyone any good.
“So what?” Hux asks with a smirk. “Are you suggesting we all abstain until we make a choice on the pregnancy?”
Tia swallows hard as she looks around the room. I know how to read people, and I see something in her eyes. Relief.
“Would you all agree to that, without holding it against me?” she asks softly.
“Anything for you, Tia,” Salinger says.
I smile despite myself as all her men stoically consent to the request.
What is it with this woman - she can command an entire table of men, make everyone bend their knee and submit to her. She’s more powerful than she knows.
It makes me hungry in ways that surprise even me.
; Most of the men leave early in the morning for their jobs. The only ones left are Giles, who’s still recovering from his injuries, and Emerson who’s been granted a couple weeks off because of the physical and mental strain he’d been through when his ship was torpedoed.
They both give me hard nods when I come into the kitchen, their easy banter subsiding as I pour a cup of coffee.
“Don’t stop talking on my account,” I say, taking a deep sip from my cup and leaning against the counter.
“We were just talking about Tia getting pregnant,” Giles says, sitting back in his chair. The scars on his face and arms are still an angry red, the same color as his hair. But the man is one lucky son of a bitch, as most men wouldn’t have survived what he’d gone through.
“About the dangers,” Emerson adds.
“There are dangers just getting out of bed in the morning,” I say. “You both put your lives at risk every time you go to work.”
“But this isn’t our lives. It’s Tia’s.”
“And hers is somehow more important than anyone else’s? I get that the two of you think you love her.”
“We do love her,” they say in unison.
“Fine. You love her. Then you’ll realize this is the only way to make sure she’s safe.”
“I don’t like it,” Emerson says. “So much could go wrong.”
“Yes.” I don’t sugarcoat it. “But she’s young. Healthy. And I’ve been working on a new drug--”
“Is that what this is about?” Giles sits up straighter. “You want to use her as a guinea pig?”
My jaw tightens because in a way I will be. But I believe in my research. “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think I could keep her safe.”
“Is that a guarantee?” Giles asks.
“You know as well as I do that there are no guarantees in life.”
He mutters a curse under his breath.
“I trust Banks,” Tia says from the kitchen doorway. “You should too,” she says to Giles. “Without him, you wouldn’t be alive right now.” She looks back at me. “Are you ready to go?”
I take a deep swallow of my coffee, place the cup on the counter, then lead her out to the garage.
