Page 41 of Room One Hundred and Eleven

Truth is, I don’t want to fight my billionaires.

Something about our earlier discussion changed me. What if I could give them what they so desperately want? In every sense?

How did they have me believing, even for just a second, that growing heavy with their child might be what I want too?

As chaos roils around me—along with some of that impulsiveness that my bosses rightly accused me of—I quit fighting long enough that the three of them working together have me laid out on a burgundy leather exam table covered in white paper. Supports extend in a cross. Carter stretches my arms out to either side while Knox and Aiden strap me to them. Leather bands lined with something as soft and fuzzy as the fuck nest from last night hug my wrists, forearms, elbows, and upper arms.

Carter hoists my feet into the stirrups then straps my legs in place along similar rests that peak beneath my knees.

Can’t say this is standard operating room equipment.

Before I can think better of my compliance, it’s too late.

I’m utterly caught.

Carter fastens two more straps around my middle as if I had any chance at breaking free.

Somehow being their captive doesn’t scare me like it should. In fact, my nipples pebble in the cool air and moisture seeps onto my upper thighs.

“Damnnnnn,” Knox rumbles as he takes me in, spread out and bound before them.

Beneath the bright dome lights on adjustable arms overhead, they can see every damn pore in my skin if they look close enough. Even the corners of the sterile, white room is illuminated, from the linoleum floor to the drop ceiling panels. It reminds me of plenty I’ve seen at the hospital in my time as a paramedic.

“Poppy.” Carter is dead serious. Growly too. “Tell me how to get that piece of junk out of you without fucking you up. Right now.”

I’m trying to think about what I have in my kit and if it’s necessary at all, but my mind is racing, and it’s hard to concentrate.

Carter slaps my inner thigh hard enough to get my full attention. “Focus.”

I blink up at him and moan, horrified that even like this he’s turning me on.

He snatches my medical kit from Knox and holds it up. “You have more of that anesthetic in here? Will it help?”

“Maybe.” I swallow hard. “I mean, yes. I have some. If it will help…”

I’ve read articles about IUD removal, both at home and in a doctor’s office, but can’t say I have personal experience. I’m not a freaking gynecologist!

“Well, it’s coming out. So we do it the right way or we just do it the fastest way possible so we can get back to filling you up.” Carter’s got my kit on the stainless-steel counter. He unzips it and rummages for the vial he saw me use yesterday. “You tell me which it is.”

“Don’t hurt her.” Aiden reaches for me as if he’s going to let me loose and drag me away from his friend. Carter stops him with a pointed stare.

“Numbing it is.” Carter draws on a pair of latex gloves, letting them snap his wrist as he stretches them into place. He plucks a fresh syringe, needle, and the vial from the kit.

I’m impressed he was paying such close attention to what I was doing yesterday.

He mimics my prep, only pausing to confirm the amount to draw up.

And when he has everything set, he kicks a round black stool so that it rolls between my legs at the foot of the table.

I’ll never forget the way he straddles it, bare-ass naked. My whole career ruined because I’ll be too turned on to think of anything else at work ever again.

“Aiden, hand me that.” He points with his free hand.

Shock and something hotter wash over me when I realize what he’s asking for. A speculum.

The metal gleams as Aiden unwraps it from sterile packing. “You want this lube too?”

“Don’t think we need it but might as well.” Cartertsks as he observes the arousal flowing out of me. He breathes deep of the scent, filling his lungs with it.

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