He takes me toward the plane, where his pilot is already opening up a door that folds out into a staircase. Damian helps me up carefully, as if he’s worried I might fall. Normally the kind of attention he’s showing me would probably insult me, but there’s something so sincere in his protectiveness that I can’t seem to get enough.
The interior of the plane is more extravagant than I would’ve imagined. The carpet is plush and looks like it would feel amazing if I was barefoot. Polished wood paneling and even paintings adorn the walls. The main cabin is set up more like a living room than a commercial airliner, with a few comfortable looking single seats, a couch, a mini-bar, and even a fish tank lit from underneath to display an impressive collection of expensive looking fish.
“Aren’t there weight limits on airplanes? Can you really have a fish tank and still fly?”
“This model is designed to hold at least sixty passengers. Keeping it under fifteen lets me have some luxuries.”
I laugh. “So you chose a fish tank?”
He shrugs. “If I’m honest, I don’t even pay attention to it all. In my line of work, extravagance inspires confidence from my clients. I show them what they want to see. No more, no less.”
“What exactly do you do?” I ask.
“Sir,” says a pretty young flight attendant who hurries in from the front cabin. I take her in from head to toe and an immediate, stabbing jealousy spikes through me.
Of course he’d have a beautiful flight attendant on his personal plane. He has probably slept with her, too. I push the thoughts away as soon as they come though. I didn’t even know Damian an hour ago. I have no business even feeling a hint of jealousy over what he might have done before that. All I have a right to care about is how he acts going forward.
“What is it?” he snaps.
“Mr. Holland said to tell you there was a problem with the contract. He said you’d--”
“Damn it,” growls Damian. He look to me regretfully, but seems to have already made up his mind over something. “Make sure she’s comfortable.” He leans in to kiss me again, but he’s distracted and the kiss is little more than a peck. “I’ll be as fast as I can. Wait here for me.”
I watch him go, settling into the comfortable chair with a growing sense of unease. Being apart from Damian seems to break the spell. All the certainty I had that I wasn’t being insane by sleeping with him and getting on a private jet with him is going up in smoke. I dig my fingers into the armrests of the chair.
“Would you like a drink?” asks the flight attendant.
“Yes, please. Something strong,” I add.
She smiles and moves off toward the bar.
I look to the doorway when I hear footsteps coming up the stairs. But instead of Damian’s imposing figure, it’s a slim woman with an amazing body. She flashes a smile to the flight attendant, who looks extremely uncomfortable. “I didn’t think he was expecting you,” she says cautiously.
The woman glares. “Do you expect him to fill you in on every detail of his personal life? Scurry off, honey. I need to talk to her.” Her eyes shift to me and I can’t help squirming in my seat.
The woman clicks over in her expensive heels and sits across from me. Her smile is predatory. “I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you. Damian did say he’d bring some fresh meat for us to play with tonight, but you’re not what I was expecting.” She looks down her pert little nose at me, like I just fell out of a dumpster.
My stomach turns cold at her words. Fresh meat? “I’m sorry. Who are you?” I ask.
She purrs an obnoxious imitation of a laugh. “I’m Faleena. Damian’s woman. His only real woman, despite whatever lies he filled your head with to get you this far.”
I don’t want to believe her, but all the doubt already swirling around my mind makes it impossible not to cling to what she’s saying. “Why would he lie to me?”
“Oh, to be so naive again,” she muses. “What a luxury.” Faleena leans forward like she’s about to let me in on a grand secret. “He told you what he had to so you’d come with him. He probably fucked you too, didn’t he? Made you feel special?”
I can’t meet her eyes. My fingers curl and uncurl on the hem of my dress. I feel like the dumbest woman in the world for falling into his trap, and right now I want nothing more than to leave, to never look back and pretend this was all a bad dream.
She throws her head back and laughs. “Of course he did. Well I hope you enjoyed your one-on-one time with him. I don’t expect he’ll be very interested in you past tonight. Only a real woman can keep his attention for long.” Her voice lowers to a whisper. “I wouldn’t blame you if you ran off. But if you’re going to leave, you may not want to wait long. He won’t let you go if he catches you.”
I take my bag and push past her without a word, squeezing my eyes shut to hold back the tears of embarrassment. They come anyway. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew the perfect guy would never fall into my lap like that, but I still went along with it like an idiot.
What did I get for putting myself out there for once? For letting go and living a little? I get to look like a silly, stupid little girl. I feel like an even bigger fool when I remember the way he came inside me. At the time, I was so lost to his will that I didn’t even consider the implications. I’m an idiot. I’m going to go home. Then I’m going to wait out the rest of my vacation time, and I’ll go back to work. I’ll move on and pretend none of this ever happened. It’ll be a bad memory, and if I’m lucky, I can eventually push it so far from my mind it disappears.
Unless he got you pregnant. A nasty little voice says in my head. I scoff at the thought, shaking my head and wiping away the tears, already moving on from the self-pity stage and into the angry, resentful stage. What would be the chances of that? A guy like him probably had a vasectomy a long time ago so he could go around fucking whoever he wanted without protection like the animal he is. I should make an appointment to get tested. Lord only knows what kind of diseases the man could have.
A distant part of me questions whether I should believe the word of that catty bitch of a woman, maybe I’m latching onto the idea of his betrayal too quickly. It’s almost an excuse that will let me go running back to my simple, predictable life. After all, it’s one stranger’s word over another. But what I was about to do was so far beyond my comfort zone, it only took the shadow of doubt to shatter my confidence. Running off that airplane was easier than walking into the conference room, and isn’t that what I’ve always done? The easy thing. I don’t know why it should surprise me that I’m doing what’s easy now.
My thoughts leave an empty, painful pit in my stomach. On one hand, I believe the woman. Guys like him don’t just come along to sweep girls up into some life of romance and passion. He could have any woman in the world, so of course she was telling the truth. Luring me onto that plane was just a game for him. I guess simply sleeping--no fucking, it was definitely fucking a woman isn’t enough of a challenge for someone like him, he has to add humiliation and degradation to the mix.
Second by second, my confusion and doubt over running off the plane is solidifying into a single, overwhelming emotion. Anger. It’s getting easier and easier to explain to myself how Faleena’s words must have been true, and it’s getting easier to picture Damian as some kind of monster instead of the man I thought he was.
I make it back inside the airport terminal, using a staircase like the one he led me down just a few minutes ago, but this time choosing a different entrance at random. Once I’m back upstairs, I look out the huge windows overlooking the runways and spot Damian striding back toward the private jet. He looks so big, even from up here. So imposing. So confident.
I set my jaw. And so much like an asshole. Fuck you, Damian. I hope I never see you again.
26
Damian
My cock is already throbbing with the need to take her again when I climb the stairs back onto my private plane. Maybe I will. I’ll just tell the staff to sta
y in the pilot’s cabin so we can have some privacy. I bet my little kitten has never been fucked at ten thousand feet.
The grin on my face slips when I step into the cabin.
“What the fuck is she doing here?” I ask Jenny, my flight attendant, whose mouth is working silently, unable to come up with a response.
Faleena stands, smoothly pushing Jenny aside and answering for her. “I’m afraid I scared away your little plaything. I implied we were back together,” she practically purrs.
“Where is Kylie?” I ask, ignoring Faleena and searching the cabin and then the pilot’s cockpit.
“She left,” says Jenny in a voice barely above a whisper.
“She left?” I roar. “She fucking left? You let her leave?”
Jenny’s eyes well with tears, and despite my rage, I know I’m taking my anger out on the wrong person. I grit my teeth, pushing out the closest thing to an apology I can manage. “It’s okay. Go wait in the cockpit while I deal with this.”
Faleena gives me an amused arch of her eyebrow. “Really? We’re going to resort to name calling already? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You always were just a brute in expensive suits.”
“Fuck off. I need to go find her.”
“She’s long gone,” Faleena says, stopping me at the door. “She left at least ten minutes ago. Judging by the way she stormed out of here crying like a baby, she’s probably already in her car on the way home. But you two exchanged information, of course?” It’s not a question. Faleena watches me with knowing eyes. “You wouldn’t fuck someone without knowing more than their first name…” Her lips form a mocking pout. “Or would you?”
I look out over the runway, knowing how slim my chances are of finding her now. “What the fuck did you tell her?”
“Enough to make sure that cock of yours never goes near her again.” She steps toward me, swaying her hips purposefully and pulling her shoulders back to expose her cleavage. “Because I want it all to myself again.”
The anger that rises inside me is so hot and unstable that I have to hold an open palm up to stop her from coming any closer. I’ve never laid my hands on a woman in a way that wasn’t meant to bring pleasure, but I swear to God, if Faleena takes another step toward me right now… I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.
“Get the fuck off my plane. Get the fuck out of my life. I never want to see your face again. Do you understand me? You’re dead to me.” I thought she already was dead to me when I broke things off a few months ago. Like all the relationships before, I didn’t let it go on for long. Every woman until Kylie has felt like an empty husk compared to her. Scratch the surface and there’s nothing of meaning inside, nothing for me to hold on to. Not Kylie though… It sounds crazy, but I just instinctively know that she’s meant to be mine. And now she’s God knows where because of this fucking bitch.
Faleena’s confidence finally slips. Her eyebrows pull down in confusion. “You’d throw me away for that little girl? She can’t handle you, Damian. Not like I can. She’s not worth your time.”
“Out,” I say quietly, already feeling the loss settling into my chest like something black and putrid knowing the feeling will fester. Not worth my time? I’ve never felt anything like I felt when I was with her. I knew I didn’t need dates. I didn’t need to know her favorite color or her zodiac sign or what her childhood was like. I felt the connection between us on such a pure, primal level that there was no question.
She is the one, and now she might be gone forever. I know my chances are slim, but I’m not going to stop looking for her until I find her again. The thought of her out there right now thinking I used her is eating a fucking hole in my chest, and worse--the thought that I might never see her again is too much. I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to find her.
Thanks so much for reading this preview of Knocked Up by the Dom! You can find it on Amazon for $0.99 or free through Kindle Unlimited. Click here to check it out!
27
Bonus Content - Single Dad Next Door
I’ve included a free copy of my #10 Amazon bestselling novel, Single Dad Next Door. Hey! I recognize that model from somewhere…
My grandfather left me his business with one insane condition:
I need a wife and two kids. Too bad I’m a divorced single dad.
Cue my ex-wife’s best friend moving in next door.
And then mix in a few bad decisions.
What do you get? A complicated, sexy mess.
Prologue
“No one can know,” she says, breaking the kiss just long enough to gasp out the words. “They can’t know the truth about us.”
I find special pleasure in running my calloused, dirty hands across her smooth and flawless skin. Women like her are supposed to be off limits for guys like me. Her family is old money rich. Just imagining the look on their faces if they found out she was sleeping with a mechanic never fails to put a grin on my face.
I kiss her while I guide her to the back of my truck.
“In the truck, sweetheart.”
She hops up, not taking her hungry eyes off me. I jump up beside her, sliding her back so I can lay her out like the prize she is in the bed of my truck. Long legs, long lashes, and an even longer list of reasons why I shouldn’t even be thinking of touching her. I strip her clothes unceremoniously, yanking her panties off in a single, hard jerk.
She quivers, completely naked. She’s already wet for me.
She has brown, curly hair that catches the moonlight through the open garage door. When I think about how much she must look down on me for being a lowly mechanic, I just want to give it to her that much harder, that much rougher. I want her to have to scream my name in this filthy garage and know it would enrage her parents. She should’ve known it would come to this when she moved in next door. She should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to stay away for long.
I slide my calloused hand along her smooth leg, up the inside of her thigh. I trace the soft curves of her body with my eyes, from her full lips all the way down her slender neck and to the sweet swell of her breasts. She stretches out luxuriously, arching her back and biting her lip while squeezing her eyes shut tight.
“Open your eyes,” I growl. “I want you to see who you’re fucking.”
She obeys. I grip her chin and kiss her hard--relentlessly. Whether she knows it or not, and even if her rich parents would never approve, Sandra Williams is mine. She may think she’s too good for me, but I know exactly how to keep her coming back for more. And if she thinks we’re going to keep the truth about us a secret forever, she’s wrong. There’s only going to be one secret between us. There’s only one thing that she can never find out, that no one can ever find out about.
If she knew… Fuck. I kiss her even harder, using my fingers against her pussy to make her squirm against me and gasp. Just thinking about what would happen if she found out makes me want to take her like it’s the last time. Because hell, if she finds out about the terms of my grandfather’s will, this will be the last time.
28
Reid
Two Weeks Earlier
I clutch the letter from my grandfather in my fist. The paper is soft and wrinkled from years of being handled. I know every word in it by heart. Every single fucking syllable is burned into my brain like a cancer. But the last line is the worst. It’s the one that haunts me. It taunts me every morning when I look in the mirror. It’s the line of text that hangs over me like a fucking time bomb, waiting to explode and tear everything in my life to pieces.
I leave my shop and property to Reid William Riggins under the condition that he is married with children by the time he is thirty-five years of age.
There it is in plain black ink. Children and a wife. I have one child and no wife. So that puts me in a very shitty place--one child, one ex-wife, and no prospects of that changing anytime soon. My grandfather went and threw me the shittiest curveball he could with his will. I shouldn’t even be surprised. My younger
brother practically exiled himself from the family after college, and my grandfather was obsessed with the idea of the Riggins family name carrying on to a new generation. I’m thirty-three years old now, which doesn’t leave me much more time to satisfy the conditions. Either I marry someone and knock them up this year, or I lose my shop. I lose my house. Everything.
I shove the letter back in the drawer and slam it shut.
Tyler sticks his head in the small office at the back of my shop. “‘Ey, Reid. You’ll want to see this.”
I’m not in the mood for Tyler’s bullshit right now, but if I stay in this office any longer, I’ll just keep getting more pissed. I push out of my chair and cross the distance toward him in two long strides. The shop isn’t much, but it’s mine. For now. I’ve run the place since grandpa died six years ago. We have two bays for cars, one of which I built myself on the weekends. It took close to a year, but it’s good, solid work. Everything is to code and sturdy.
When I see my little guy kneeling to watch Garry work on an old Acura’s brake lines, the hot anger in me cools a little. Roman is the only good thing that came out of the two years I spent married to Tara. His brown hair is a tangled mess of brown and he has a thick streak of black on his cheek. I smirk, spitting on a rag then cupping his cheek to clean the grease from his cheek. He scrunches his face and tries to escape, but I manage to get the spot before he can slip away.
“You learning about brakes, bud?”
Roman is turning five next month, but he probably knows more about cars than most adults already.
“Yep!” he says cheerily.
I ruffle his hair and move to follow Tyler. As soon as Roman is out of my sight, the heat of my anger rises up again. I see what Tyler was calling me out of the office to see now. The shop sits directly in front of my house. The house next door has been abandoned for years, but there’s a moving truck parked outside in the shade of two big oaks. I tuck the rag in my jeans and cross my arms. I have to squint against the sun to see, but there are three guys from the moving company bringing box after box inside while a woman with long legs and short shorts follows them around, fussing over everything they move.
Knocked Up and Punished: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance Page 19
