Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(77)
Bet those damn Braxton Hicks had livened up the kid’s naptime. She let out a grunt of annoyance as her belly tightened. “Still? Seriously?” She’d hoped the contractions would disappear during her nap. Sometimes they did. Not today, apparently.
A shame the “false labor pains” weren’t the real thing. She gave a snort of laughter. Positive that Anne was having the baby, Ben’d called the obstetrician three times this week. Each time, the doc had patiently explained that if the contractions were erratic and didn’t really hurt that Anne wasn’t in labor.
Of course, as a sadist, Anne knew “really hurt” was a subjective term. No one in their right mind would say that those squeezing sensations felt good.
As she walked—waddled, dammit—to the bathroom, she passed the hospital bag beside the dresser and sighed. Soon.
After using the toilet, she started to stand and felt an odd popping sensation. A gush of fluid spilled into the toilet bowl. What the fuck? Had her bladder lost control completely?
A huge, painful contraction gripped her insides.
Dropping back on the toilet seat, she curled over her belly. Oh. God. That one had hurt.
And, hello, that fluid hadn’t been her bladder—her water had broken. If her water had broken, then…it was time to have a baby. Heart picking up speed, she swallowed hard.
Oh, fuck, am I ready for this?
After a moment, she shook her head. Not like she had a choice. And wasn’t it clever of her to have her water break right there on the toilet?
She cleaned herself, yanked her loose pants up, washed her hands—and bent in half with the next contraction.
Holy fuck, weren’t the damn things supposed to work up gradually to hurting like this? Kari and Jessica had said they’d puttered around and watched movies and spent hours before even breaking a sweat.
Anne wiped her forehead and set her jaw. Damned if she’d be more of a crybaby than the submissives. She’d served as a Marine, a police officer. She was a Domme. Pain didn’t slow her down.
The next contraction caught her on the way to the bed—and sent her to her knees.
*
Inside the house in Anne and Ben’s living room, Josie crouched to pet their orange tabby. All length and legs, the teenaged kitten reminded her of Carson.
With a long, annoyed meow, the cat expressed his displeasure at being shut in the house during the party.
“Aw, poor baby.” Josie picked up the young cat and cradled him in her arms, smiling as his meows turned into purring.
The barbecue was over, and Cullen and Andrea had left. Near the kitchen, Jake was laughing as Rainie tried to talk Holt into adopting a puppy.
Josie grinned. Rainie was such a wonderful mixture of humor and kindness, and her Dom obviously adored her.
Everyone here was friends with Holt, and she’d been watched and weighed as they evaluated whether she was good enough for him. She, honestly, wasn’t sure of the answer herself. Sure, she was a fine person. Really. But she might not be all that perfect a girlfriend, let alone a submissive.
She…didn’t see a good ending to her and Holt starting a relationship.
Carson needed a stable home. And face it, even a wonderful guy like Holt would have second thoughts about taking on a single mother with a grumpy, almost teenaged boy. Holt could break Carson’s heart.
Giving Holt up would break hers.
Last night…last night, she’d felt like someone had taken all her fantasies and dreams and longings, stirred them together, and poured them out into an evening made just for her. Gaining her trust, Holt had swept her along, teasing and ordering and…taking her further than she’d ever dreamed of going. Making her come harder than she’d ever thought a person could.
Making her want…more. Want him. And now she felt almost incomplete when he wasn’t beside her.
Oh, this was so wrong.
She rubbed her cheek against the purring cat and wished her heart didn’t feel as if it were fracturing.
This morning, she’d known she should pull away before she got more involved with him. Before Carson got used to seeing him around.
But when he’d appeared at her door and she’d tried to back out of this barbecue, he’d smiled and tucked her into the car. And now, when she tried to keep her distance, she ended up on his lap.
Her father had been all thunder and noise when he demanded his way. Holt was like…like the ocean, infinitely powerful, calmly wearing away the beach, the cliffs, vanquishing obstacles without fuss.
Holt glanced over at her, as he did so often. His gaze ran over her, and his eyes darkened slightly as if he could hear her worried thoughts.
“Josie, I see Coltrane has you under his paw.” Ben grinned. “He may never let you leave.”
She laughed. “Even a Dom kitty has to give in to necessity. My son is due home soon, and his homework won’t get done without a nudge.”
“My mother did the same thing.” Ben’s smile faded. “I’m not sure my sisters and I would have survived without her. Your boy is lucky to have you.”
That was so nice to hear. “Thank you. And thank you for having me over to the barbecue.” She glanced at the stairs. Bronx sat on the bottom step, a worried look on his furry retriever face. He adored his mistress. “May I run upstairs and tell Anne goodbye? I won’t wake her if she’s asleep.”
“Sure. I was going to sneak up and check on her, even though she’s threatened to flog me when I hover too much.” He grinned. “You have a better excuse.”