Page 14 of Their Domme

Checking myself over in the mirror, I tried to ignore the dark circles under my eyes. Sleeping alone wasn’t something I liked anymore. The feel of someone beside me, or multiple people, was the only thing that would soothe me. The few months we had been together had taught me the safety I could find in the arms of my boyfriends… something that had been absent for way too long now. That, and my morning sickness going away, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“I don’t see Roderick yet,” Blake said as I came down the stairs.

“He just messaged,” I told them. “The meeting got postponed. Something about drama at the department.”

“The one day I fucking get up early,” Blake grumbled before stifling a yawn. “I’m going back to sleep. I’ll see you later at a normal fucking wake-up time.”

I chuckled, moving out of their way so they could hurry back upstairs in their sweats and large t-shirt. They were probably going to jump back in bed, curling up with someone to nap… or more. Fuck, I hated Blake right now. My dry spell sucked, and I hated every damn moment of it. I was going to make up for lost time, pregnant or not, when I met back up with the others.

I wandered through the downstairs until I settled on a couch in the living room with a bagel and coffee in hand. A broken laugh had escaped me earlier when I had gone into the kitchen only to find a normal coffee maker sitting there. I could hear it in my mind, knowing exactly how Sacha would bitch about the “cheap ass machine.” The man really was a damn diva, no matter what he said. But at least Blake knew coffee, so the beans were good quality. So long as the taste was good, I didn’t care what machine brewed it. I was mostly grateful that the morning sickness hadn’t ruined my enjoyment of coffee.

“Getting so lost in your thoughts you lose awareness of your surroundings is dangerous,” a cool voice reprimanded just before hands clamped down on mine. I jerked, but his hold kept my coffee from spilling.

None other than Ansel F?rstner was standing in front of me, watching me with an arched look. “You’re late,” I sassed, ignoring the pounding of my heart from him sneaking up on me. “One would think you’d be more punctual, ya know, given the whole hitman thing.”

We stared at each other for a moment before a small smile curled his lips, though it faded much too quickly for my liking. He loosened his hold on my hands and settled down beside me on the couch. I shifted to face him, tucking my feet under me, and we each studied the other. We hadn’t seen each other in a while since life had a nasty habit of keeping us both busy.

He’d gotten older, obviously, with a few more lines around his eyes, but he had no gray in his dark black hair. Ansel wasn’t as put together as he used to be, his clothes a bit more askew and worn than normal, but they were of the same high quality that he typically liked. There were dark circles under his eyes and a tightness to his mouth that told me he was hurt somewhere, but I couldn’t tell right away where the injury was. Gray eyes took me in silently, and it made me wonder what he saw when he looked at me. The young woman he had met a few years back? Somewhat innocent and untested? Life had made sure I didn’t stay that way.

Ansel was just as handsome as the first time we had met. I had been gifted to him by his brother for a job well done, and the rest was history. We had become unlikely friends, sporadically reaching out and talking, nothing consistent considering the nature of both of our lives, but we’d shared enough that I trusted him more than I did most people.

“You look terrible,” he said with a hint of dry humor.

I rolled my eyes and took a small nibble of my bagel. “Aren’t you the charmer? I blame morning sickness and my inability to sleep alone now. Both things I lay firmly at my men’s feet since their stupid penises made me this way.”

Ansel blinked slowly, his gaze traveling down my body until it zeroed in on my stomach. “You’re pregnant?”

I nodded, my throat thick with nerves before I sipped some of my coffee. When he turned his focus to my cup, I held it close to me, glaring at him. “Em made me look it up. I can have one cup of coffee, so you can fuck right off. If you try to take this from me, I’ll gut you.”

“I see you’re handling the hormones well,” Ansel deadpanned, making me flip him off. A bark of laughter burst free before his face twisted in pain.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him, concern filling me. I’d never seen him react that way. Not once even in all our violent and physical times together.

“Nothing,” he said, dismissing my concern, then he shifted his seat so he was further away from me. “I got your messages and cleaned up the mess you left. Who were they?”

Silence reigned between us until I decided to let his avoidance go—for now. I’d get my answers later, that’s for sure. “Members of the Ashview trafficking ring,” I told him before pursing my lips in thought. “My stalker is part of it, so I’ve been working through names to find my brother.”

“Any progress?” he asked with no outward reaction to my admission. I wondered if he already knew who they were. After all, they were direct competition to the F?rstner Family.

“I found out the names of two of the ring leaders,” I said, biting my lip as I turned over the information in my head. “But I want more information before I take any action. Better to be sure before doing anything that would hurt Thomas.” Ansel silently propped his chin on his hand and waited for me to continue. “I just don’t know how it happened. Since I’ve been on my own, I’ve wondered how my stalker had gotten ahold of my brother. I mean, even if they hated me, my parents loved Thomas. I can’t imagine them just letting him go without trying to protect him.”

“Did you go back there to see what had happened?” he asked after a moment of silence.

“No.” A broken laugh fell from my lips as I finished off my coffee and set it, along with my barely touched bagel, on the coffee table. My chest burned, and I rested a hand on my rolling stomach as if that would help anything. “I don’t want to have to deal with my hometown until I’m ready. There are a few more things I need to get in place before I take a trip down trauma lane.” Ansel didn’t say anything. He just sat there, watching my battle to keep my coffee down.

“You should eat,” he said gently, slowly leaning forward to pick up the bagel and offer it to me. “It will help.”

“I don’t think I can stomach it.”

“Part of the reason you’re nauseous is because you need food in your stomach,” he argued. “The coffee is acidic, which will just make getting sick worse.”

“Either way, I’ll just puke it back up,” I countered.

“Try ginger after you eat a little bit. It helped my wife when she was pregnant with both Emmerich and Kat—Blake,” Ansel corrected himself before pushing the bagel at me again.

After another moment of hesitation, I grabbed it and took another small bite. “When I throw up again, you’re going to clean it up.”

His lips twitched, but his serious gaze was shadowed with sadness. His wife had been dead for years, yet every mention of her had him reacting the same. Ansel had loved her; I could see it whenever he mentioned her, even in passing, though that was rare. It was as if every time cut open the wound all over again.

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