Page 56 of Deadlier Obsessions

It’s the most miserable flight ever, with three of us feeling like crap, and poor Mav and Gage running from one of us to the other, to bring us things, and try to soothe us. We’re convinced it was the eggs we had for breakfast, and right now if I even hear the word eggs once more, I’m going to be ill again.

I think the crew of the plane are as relieved as us once they get us off the plane, and the fresh air helps us as we head to our hotel in a car with the windows down. We’re staying overnight inNew York City, and then travelling the last few hours in another of these hired ‘town cars’ Gage likes using.

“Once we’re checked in, the three of you can go do whatever you need to do to feel better, and we’ll sort out dinner. Well, if you even think you can eat by then,” Gage says, grimacing a little at the thought. I know that Mav can be incredibly nurturing at moments like that, looking after one of us while we’re ill, but Gage was amazing too. He was patient, calm, and supportive. Whatever doubts we have now and then, we definitely can’t fault him for his caring side. In fact, it pretty much makes me swoon.

“I need a shower, for sure,” Sebastian says, his head tipped back against the seat. The poor thing looks more wrung out than either of us women, and we’re carrying babies. My god. Every time I remember that fact, it hits me hard, because there’s literally a little person growing inside me right now, and they’re planning to take up residence for nine months or so. Pity the little bugger didn’t ask first, but then, I have to admit I’m starting to warm to the idea. Can it work, two of us pregnant with these three men? Maybe, given how they looked after us today, and so many times in the past. Can raising children in this bizarre dynamic work? I have no idea.

We reach the hotel, and I’m so relieved when we reach our suite, that I don’t even really take in the luxury surroundings, just heading for the bedroom and falling face first onto the bed. I just need about a week’s sleep, and I’ll be fine again.

“Here, baby, just drink this before you sleep, so you don’t get dehydrated.” Mav helps me up, and tips a glass of water to my lips, once more taking care of me in the way I’d never imagined possible. The love I feel for this man is absolutely beyond my control, because logically, I know he shouldn’t be the one, after how we started out, but I also know I’ve never loved like this, like I love all of them. This is what matters, right? This love.

STELLA

Morning sickness sucks. I have to keep reminding myself I wanted this, because right now misery is my middle name. Well, I wanted to be pregnant. Puking my guts out, not so much. Gage has been googling morning sickness, like he will find the mysterious cure, when women have been having babies and getting sick for over two billion years. I giggle as he says, “Oh interesting,” because I’m fairly certain if they haven’t found a way to get rid of it by now, they likely never will. Of course, there’s things you can do to minimize it, but not get rid of it altogether.

“It says here morning sickness is a good thing. It’s said that it is a sign of a healthy pregnancy.”

That’s great. Obviously, I want our baby to be healthy, but that does not stop me from running to the toilet constantly.

I sit on the couch with my legs over his lap, while Mav and Lucy sit on the chair in the corner, snuggled up. Sebastian went to take a shower a little while ago.

Gage holds his phone in one hand while he rubs my foot with his free one. “It says your feet will hurt. Do they hurt, baby?”

Lucy giggles from Mav’s lap. “That’s later, Gage. Her baby weighs less than an ounce.”

He glances at me. “Do you want me to stop then?”

Shaking my head, I sigh with pleasure. “Never stop. Do it all night.”

Gage chuckles softly. “I have other ideas for what I plan on doing to you all night, and it doesn’t involve your feet.”

Sebastian walks into the room wearing nothing but grey sweatpants, looking delicious with a few drops of water still onhis skin. Sitting beside me, he leans down and kisses me on the top of my head. “Feeling better, baby?”

I turn to him, holding up the cracker in my hand. “Eating seems to help.”

Gage pipes up. “Googlesays frequent small meals.”

Lucy has her phone in her hand and is looking at something with obvious interest. “Stel, people are really excited for us to sign books atWhat the Smut, apparently all the copies they had have been pre-sold.”

Social media is a double-edged sword. Of course, we want people to be interested in our books. However, I’m hoping there aren’t people there when we get there. Not because I don’t want to meet our readers, because I do. It just makes me really anxious. What if I say something wrong? Do I look stupid? Is my skirt tucked into my panties? I don’t want to be like this, always so insecure, but it’s how I’m wired. I see these authors onFacebookall the time, so put together, pretty, and the picture of confidence. I was never a cool kid, and I guess I never will be.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

GAGE

With two women and Pretty Boy, I’m used to having sex every day, multiple times, but with all three of them not feeling great, I got none last night. Am I slightly disgruntled by that? A little, I guess, but I have every intention of fucking them all twice today to make up for it. Did I suggest to Mav that he should suck my dick? I was nice, and even offered to suck him off too, but of course he told me to fuck off, which is pretty rude.

As we get out to go into this bookstore, it’s honestly pretty hard to tell which of them is more nervous. They are both anxious about what Stella refers to as ‘peopleing’, but it’s unlikely their ‘readers’ will be there, because they didn’t announce a time when they’d be showing up. I think it’s pretty clear these people are their fans. They love their books, want them to sign shit, and get excited to meet them. That’s a fan, right?Wrong. Very wrong.If I say the word ‘fan’ I get snipped at by both of them, because they aren’t ‘big time’ authors. Last night Stella glared at me. ‘It’s not like we’reRina Kent,or someone else amazing like that.”

I don’t have a fucking clue who that is but it drives me insane that our two women, both talented writers, refuse to give themselves the credit they deserve. With Lucy, I kind of get it, and if you met her parents, you would too. Stella, though. Why the hell is she like this? So much self-doubt when she should be confident because she’s amazing. They both are. I don’t knowwhat women are looking for when they read, but when I read the words they’ve written, it always makes me hard.

Sebastian opens the door for us, and we walk through. Instantly the store owner greets our women excitedly, “I hope you’ll do this again. We had one hundred copies, but they all sold after you made theTikTokvideo.”

Stella smiles at the short blonde woman. “Let us know when you get more, and I’m sure we can arrange to come in and sign them if you’d like.”

The woman's cheeks pink up like she’s embarrassed. “Could I get a picture?”

Like I’m the hired help, the lady hands me her phone, as all three of them get into position. I grumble under my breath but take the damn photograph. A few people come over to them, but I don’t know if they were here by chance, or if they were specifically looking for them. Tiffany, the owner, points them to a table where they can sit and sign the books. Of course we follow them, because our women don’t go very far away without us on their heels, but Stella gets her phone and shoos us away. “You’ll scare people if you’re on the video. Give us some breathing room.”

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