“I’m limited, I admit, but if you’d volunteer, Ms. Dare, I could show you a few combinations on your arms or legs.”
“The fuck you will—” I growled at the same time Alexis spoke up, the excitement and delight evident in her voice.
“That’s a fantastic idea,” she said, standing and pushing up the sleeves on her pink, silk, maternity blouse.
“Alexis, you’re shitting me, right? In case you haven’t noticed, you’re eight months pregnant,” I half-shouted at her, gently trying to push her back down into her chair.
“Relax, Kent. It’s not like he’s going to tie my limbs together and suspend me from the ceiling. He’ll just show us a few knot combinations, give us a sense of what he can do,” she said, turning to the buffoon in front of us, who was already unspooling a length of jute rope.
“Exactly. I would never put anyone in any danger,” the idiot said reassuringly.
Against my better judgment, I moved to sit back in my chair as Alexis joined him on the opposite side of my desk. I watched as he tied what could only be described as a lattice looking configuration up both of her arms, then bound them together. It was indeed fascinating, but I didn’t like her being restricted like that, not one little bit. Not that I wouldn’t mind learning to do it myself and having a little fun together one day in the future… I thought as my mind began to drift to images of a little bondage photo session date sometime.
Alexis was delighted with how it came out and urged me to take pictures of it with my phone. I did, still feeling unsettled her arms were tied together, but fortunately Mister Meister released her as soon as I had.
“How would you like me to do a harness for you? I could create something amazing that would showcase your motherly condition beautifully,” Cane said before I could usher him off.
“Really?” Alexis squealed. “What do I need to do?”
“Dammit, Alexis, I—” That was all I got out before she shushed me and gave me her death stare. Usually, that look never failed to excite me, but the whole thing just didn’t sit right with me. It was probably safe enough, but something about bondage and late pregnancy just didn’t seem to be a good idea.
Before I knew it, he’d trussed her upper arms and torso up so her huge, full breasts and swollen belly were beautifully showcased. The ropework was intricate and gorgeous, and I had to admit, Alexis looked sexy as hell. I almost couldn’t wait to get the ropes off her for a different reason. Nevertheless, I wanted her out of them right away.
“Okay, that’s beautiful Mr. Meister. Please untie her now and we’ll be in touch,” I said hurriedly, trying to press my impatience to them both.
“Kent, shut up and take the pictures, first,” Alexis said, her brow furrowed in what I assumed was irritation until I saw her grimace and flinch.
“Alexis, are you—”
“Take the goddamned pictures, Kent. I want to be able to see them later.” The crease between her eyebrows deepened as she closed her eyes.
“Get her out of the ropes now!” I shouted, just as Alexis gasped and a dark stain began to form between her thighs.
“Fuck!” Alexis shouted, her hands immediately going to her belly. “Kent, we need to go. I think my water just broke.”
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I hollered as I ran to her side, shoving the Burgermeister out of the way. I tried to figure out the best way to approach untying her, but the rope was a mass of knots, and I had no idea where to begin. Frantically fiddling with the first one I saw, Alexis whirled around, slapping at my hands.
“We don’t have time for this. This is too early, I’m supposed to have at least another month to go. We’ll worry about everything else later,” she said, her eyes beginning to pool with tears. She brushed past the startled rope master and grabbed her purse. I followed, my brain pretty much flatlined and on auto-pilot. We rushed out of the office, Alexis waddling as fast as she could while I struggled to keep up.
“So, you’ll be in touch?” The idiot called out after us as he stood in the doorway to my office. I shot him the middle finger over my shoulder just as we reached the elevator doors.
When we arrived at the hospital, the staff gave us perplexed stares as they took in Alexis’ elaborately decorated figure. I heard the emergency room doctor mumble something about me being ‘one of those selfish, perverted bastards’ before they cut the ropes from her body.
Though she admitted to some minor cramping throughout the day, Alexis hadn’t had any active contractions, or at least she didn’t think so. Her water breaking was the first real sign there was any trouble. She was whisked to a labor and delivery room and hooked up to monitors of all sorts.
“Son of a bitch,” she gasped about three hours later, her hands gripping her belly. The nurse assigned to our room had showed me how to read the screen that monitored her contractions, and I’d been watching it like a hawk. She’d just had the biggest one so far.
“Hang in there, Princess. You’re doing great,” I said, stroking her face gently and trying to reassure her that everything would be fine. For reasons I couldn’t begin to fathom, Alexis had refused an epidural up to that point, claiming she wanted the full childbirth experience.
“Fuck you, Kent Kingsley. This is all your fault. You could have taken a minute to put on a fucking condom. But noooo. Someone had to be in a big hurry. Now look at me. There’s a living creature inside me, ripping my uterus to shreds trying to get out,” she hissed before groaning again. I turned to the monitor just to watch the thin green line start to climb again.
I grabbed Alexis’ hand, letting her squeeze it as tightly as she wanted. I realized, the soft, calm approach wasn’t going to soothe her. This was my feisty girl. She wanted a fight.
“I didn’t see you pausing to ask me to put one on,” I countered. “I assumed you had the birth control covered,” I said, pretending to be indignant.
“Just like a man!” she ground out as soon as the little line started to fall. “You’re a dimwit, sometimes. Besides, I thought I did have it covered. It’s not my fault the Depo shot wore off.”
“Oh, but it’s mine instead?” I said, getting into the fun of the strangely timed argument. I looked again to the computer screen, waiting for the line to peak again. The contractions were coming more rapidly, so I discreetly pushed the call button for the nurse as Alexis let loose a string of profanity, cursing my name and threatening me with all kinds of bodily harm, up to and including genital mutilation.
“Of course, it is. You have some kind of super-swimmers. They raped and pillaged my poor little egg!”
“Uh, that’s a little extreme, don’t you think?” I replied, suddenly feeling a touch defensive from that comment. “My swimmers were gentlemen, like me.”
“You mean assholes, just like you!” she cried just before another contraction seized her.
The nurse came hustling in, ready to check Alexis’ progress. Alexis grabbed her by the smock and pulled her close.
“I need the drugs. I need them now!” she demanded angrily.
“Let me just see how far your cervix has dilated, then I’ll call for the anesthesiologist,” she said as if she were man-handled regularly by pregnant women.
Once Alexis had uncurled her fists from the nurse’s uniform, she lay back, groaning as the little line started its climb again.
“I’m afraid it’s too late for the epidural, Ms. Lane. Your baby is ready to come now,” she said with a small smile, happy to give the exciting news, but no doubt in fear for her life as Alexis began another litany of foul-mouthed curses. It seemed a pox and bankruptcy were going descend on the nurse’s entire family if she didn’t give her drugs right away.
The room became a bustling but efficient room from that point forward. Alexis was put in the stirrups, I was given a fancy blue shower cap to put on, and the doctor strolled in nonchalantly as though he delivered babies every day. Well, I supposed he did, but this was my baby. I didn’t care about anyone else’s.
Alexis stopped
her swearing and became the most focused and determined woman I’d ever seen. She spent more than an hour pushing, which at one point became a cause for concern when our baby’s heart rate dropped. The doctor had her push one more time, long and hard, saying the head had crowned so there was no time to waste.
Three more forceful pushes and Elizabeth Adele Kingsley came into the world with a loud, healthy cry and shaking her tiny little fists. She already had her mother’s temper. I fell head over heels, irrevocably in love with a feisty girl for the second time in my life.
Epilogue
Alexis
“You can put those boxes over there by my table,” I instructed Kent. “They’re all my books, so be careful. I don’t want any of them to be damaged. You wouldn’t believe how easy it is to crease the covers.”
Gage, Stacy, Clarisse, and Andrea all circled me while I continued to throw instructions to Kent over my shoulder.
“Why aren’t you having one of the staff do all that?” Gage asked, clearly feeling sorry for his buddy.
“Because it’s far more fun ordering him around,” I admitted with a giggle. Limitless Lust had finally arrived, along with a new year, and we were all humming with excitement.
“Everything has gone off without a hitch, Alexis,” Andrea said. “You’ve done a superb job.”
“Credit goes to you too. The last few months, you did all the work while I tried to learn how to be a mom to one very vocal young lady.” And she was. Lizzie was not shy about letting us know when she needed something, which seemed to be all the time. I blamed Kent. If she wasn’t eating or being changed, she was sleeping in her daddy’s arms. The child was going to be spoiled rotten between him and the rest of the Kingsley family. Kent may have called me Princess from time to time, but she was the queen, every Kingsley ready to do her bidding. It made me smile.
“Where are your little ones, anyway?” Andrea asked Stacy and me.
“They’re with Adele and Bart. I expect by the time today is over, they’ll be very happy to see us.”
Just then, Clarisse whipped her head to the left.
“I’m sorry guys, all this baby talk is fascinating, but I just caught a glimpse of Wyatt Chase. I need to meet him. Next to Gage, he’s the hottest erotic writer around,” she said, starstruck.
“Gee thanks, Clarisse,” I teased her.
“I don’t mean hot as in how he writes, though his BDSM series makes me want to become a submissive. He’s just fuckin’ smokin’ to look at,” she admitted as Kent walked up.
“You a submissive? You’re too bossy to be someone’s sub,” Kent said.
“Watch me,” she replied as she hustled away, our snickering the soundtrack behind her.
“The doors are about to open,” Stacy pointed out. “We’d better get to our tables and put out the finishing touches. This is so exciting!”
I smiled as everyone drifted apart, then reached out to squeeze Kent’s hand.
“Things worked out pretty amazing for what we originally expected to be just a couple quick, dirty fucks,” I said playfully.
“Turned out to be quick, dirty luck, instead,” he said with a cheesy grin.
“You’re such a dork.”
Acknowledgements
This is probably one of my most favorite parts of writing a book, since I get to tell everyone about the amazing people who’ve helped bring my book into the world. It’s also one of the most anxiety producing parts, because I’m afraid I’ll forget someone, and so many people are crucial to the process.
First, thanks go to Tasha for being the straight up hustler she is. I’ve never met a more fearless person with a stronger work ethic. She’s also a pretty kick-ass human being and friend.
To Lizzie, Jenn and Sandy H. for reading this book in its most raw form and telling me it didn’t totally suck, but they actually liked it.
To Trenda for her keen analysis and suggestions to help the story become the best it could be.
To Sandy E. for again polishing a rough little stone and making it look more like a diamond.
To Polett for not strangling me while she worked tirelessly on the cover, revision after revision and for not quitting when I decided to scrap the original concept and go with something entirely new.
To my ARC Team and my Harlots for their encouragement and enthusiasm, and willingness to give me yet another chance to entertain them.
And as ever, thanks go to my children for understanding they don’t have a ‘regular mom’ and for being kind of happy they don’t.
Finally, to Mr. G, for being the most supportive, encouraging and loving man on the planet. (I love you madly.)
About the Author
Heather Guimond is a Los Angeles native, a fact she's abnormally proud of. When she's not trying to write something that will make people laugh or rip their hearts out (or both!) she's either reading or doing her best to crack the whip on her three home-schooled teenagers. She loves all things witty and wise-cracking, as well most varieties of smart-assery. Other favorites include French roast coffee in copious amounts and the dirtiest Dirty Martinis she can find. More than anything, she hopes she writes books that stick with the reader long after the pages have been read.
Thank You!
Thank you for reading my book, whether I am a new-to-you author, or one of your one-click favorites. I’m a reader, just like you, so I know the joys a good book can bring. If you liked this one, please consider leaving a review with your favorite outlets, so other readers might take a chance on me, too. (Plus, I read them all. I really like knowing what you think, what you enjoyed, what you didn’t. It helps me bring more enjoyable content to you!)
If you do like me, (and I really hope you do!) you can follow me anywhere and everywhere.
Amazon
BookBub
Facebook
Goodreads
Instagram
Get to know me by joining my Facebook readers group, Heather’s Dirty and Flirty Harlots!
More sexy, steamy books by Heather
Love Between the Pages
A Novel Experience: Love Between the Pages Novelette
The Novel Approach: Love Between the Pages Book 1
Flovers and Lovers Series
(Writing as Heather Rayne)
Fireball and Fiascos
The Perfection Series
Shattered Perfection
Fighting Perfection
Beautiful Imperfection
Just Perfection
Chasing Perfection
Quick Dirty Luck: A Love Between the Pages Novel Page 19
