Page 21 of The Dom with the Kink Monsters

Cross grabbed his keys off of the counter and handed her the all-black diaper bag that was on his shoulder. It would have been funny if there’d been something cutesy, like a Tigger on it.

“Is this the Spanish Inquisition? They both just ate and I changed their diapers. If they need to be changed again, there’s diapers and cream in there, and some binkies if they get cranky. I’ll be gone all of five minutes.”

She’d accepted the diaper bag from him, but it hung from her unenthusiastic fingers. “Cross, my friend, if your sons crap their pants they will be sitting in it when you get back. They’re cute, for little Godfrey spawn, but if I wanted to change shitty diapers I’d have spawn of my own.”

“You’re so maternal, Winter. It must give Mack the warm fuzzies.”

She chuckled darkly. “You don’t want to know what gives Mack the warm fuzzies.”

He waved his hands around like he was going to ward her off. “No, no! I don’t want to know. I have the feeling it might give me nightmares.” When he opened the door, the bell jingled. “I should be back in ten, fifteen minutes, tops.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” She turned her back on him as the door closed and she looked at the babies. Emmanuel, the younger one, was sound asleep. His brother Levi stared back at her, his bright red hair standing straight up off of his head like he was perpetually surprised. They both looked like Cross, poor little guys, and not much like their individual mothers. Not that Cross was ugly, per se, but his hulking frame and stern countenance didn’t work for her in a sexual way.

Mack, on the other hand, was so beautiful that he made most women look coarse by comparison. And the evil tendencies behind that pretty face made him all the more interesting. Cruel, wicked eyes, perfect features and a hard, wiry frame made him the idealfront man for their band, and the star in most of her darkest fantasies. Even the ones that made her hot but she refused to let him try. And the ones she didn’t tell him.

A squawk pulled her mind away from Mack and fornication, reminding her that there was an infant staring her down. He was winning.

“Hey, kid. Remember me?” She picked him up with practiced ease, tipping her head sideways to avoid his flailing arms. A moist hand smacked her cheek and she wiped at it with her sleeve. Babies were always so drooly. It was like having a tiny bald St. Bernard you couldn’t leave home alone. He didn’t smell bad yet, which was nice. If she never had to change a diaper again, it would be too soon.

Being the oldest of eight kids meant that babies weren’t really fun or a novelty for her. Although her next-youngest sister already had two monsters of her own, she absolutely refused to babysit. She, herself, was on the pill so that she wouldn’t have to change diapers and warm up bottles. It wasn’t fair for her family to expect her to step up to the plate. She’d helped her mother raise her siblings. She’d paid her dues.

Doing this for Cross, though, was completely different. She really liked Gemma and Izzy, which put her at risk of feeling helpful and magnanimous. Add in how happy Godfrey was with his women and their two babies – comparing him now to the old, self-loathing Cross that she remembered – she was just glad that he’d managed to turn his life around. There had been a time when she had wondered if he’d ever be content. The whole happy family situation wasn’t something she’d ever imagined for him. Now there was a brightness that shone out of him. He was the kind of man who would have been nice to have around to help her mom raise all the babies.

Instead, Winter had endured a string of ‘dads,’ all of them wanting to bond with her and be her buddy. But she knew her mom. Lira Sorenson wasn’t the settling down type. It wasn’t that she was a party girl or had a deficiency of morals, she just got impatient with men who didn’t pull their weight. No matter how good some of them looked at first, they all failed miserably in one department or another. Life was too short to stay in a bad relationship, her mother often told her, and most men weren’t worth the effort.

Levi had anchored himself to her by grabbing her hair as his tiny hand happened to wave by her head. He was cooing in response to the silly, one-sided conversation she had started with him and she started getting that sappy feeling that she usually tried to avoid at all cost.

No babies.

Cross burst through the door like law enforcement was in hot pursuit. He carried abig crate of diapers in each hand, and thumped them down on the counter. The relief on his face was amusing – as though he’d expected her to sell them off while he was gone.

“Everything went okay?”

She waited for him to inspect the children for dings, but he managed to refrain.

“I had a big discussion with Levi. Emmanuel just started fussing in his sleep, but that was it.”

The door banged open violently and Gemma skidded into the shop. “Cross, hand me Em before my tits explode. I told the guy I was working on that I needed to grab a coffee, but if I don’t empty these things, we’re going to have an international incident on our hands.”

He went to the basket and lifted the one-month-old with exaggerated care. The child looked like a toy in his father’s huge hands. As soon as Cross had cradled him to his chest, Em started to root around, looking for one of his mommies.

Gemma settled in a chair behind the cash register and did some complicated Shirt Fu that resulted in the baby nursing and her still being mostly covered. She groaned in relief and looked at Cross with pained eyes.

“Have I mentioned lately that I despise you? You get all the fun stuff and Izzy and I have to suffer.” Her eyes were half-lidded and Cross looked down at her with amusement. “Quit smirking, you bastard. I have to pee.”

He plucked their other son from her arms and made a few faces at him. “I’m home alone with them most of the day. Do I not have the stay-at-home dad thing under control? I get up at night to change diapers, but there’s not much I can do about breastfeeding. At least you and Izzy can switch off sometimes – most women don’t have that.”

She grumbled something about his crappy lasagna-making skills, which made him laugh, and he went into the back office then brought her back a bottle of juice. Levi started batting at his face with little flailing arms and Cross sank into the chair next to Gemma. With a sigh, she laid her head on his shoulder.

Feeling awkward and in the way, like she always did when her boss and his wives got all schmooky, Winter moved around the shop tidying things that were already tidy. As sweet as they were, she wasn’t a PDA kind of girl.

She checked her watch – twenty minutes left until the end of her shift. Time to ask if she could leave early.

*

At the end of the practice set, Winter felt like she had a full body buzz. This thing they had going on – it was fucking amazing. The adrenaline had her heart pounding. She was ready to go skydiving or do something completely insane. Car surf?

She turned to set down her bass and there was Saya, looking innocent and adorable in the red Lolita dress, knee socks and Mary Jane shoes Ramsay had made her wear. Eyes unfocused and lips parted, she looked dazed from the music. Her voice when she sang was vulnerable, alternating between singing sweetly and whispering. Chilling when it was weaving around Mack’s. On stage, when she and Mack had practiced alone together, she’d looked like a sacrificial lamb. Edible. Little Red Riding Hood in what would amount to a bar full of wolves. If they ever got popular, they’d have to get the girl a bodyguard.

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