Gretchen

If a girl wanted something done, she had to do it herself.

That perseverance usually solved most problems. Conception, however, remained a frustratingly two-person job.

The failure shouldn’t have bothered me. Sure, we’d technically lied to Rachel at the interview, but one little month delay wouldn’t reveal the truth. And we’d conceive this month.

Not like we had a choice.

Besides, if Chloe could get pregnant so quickly, it had to be just as easy for us. Chloe and I were the same age—a fact that still grossed me out. And Marius was younger than my father. Considerably. The ingredients were all in perfect order. All that mattered was the recipe, and, as far as I could tell, we’d spiced that dish perfectly.

And we’d done it so many times, I was still dizzy.

But another try couldn’t hurt.

Probably should have informed Marius though. Apparently, knocking on a man’s door in the middle of the night impugned my reputation—even when the booty call was purely procreative.

Ambrose should have sufficed as an appropriate chaperone, but Micah arched a judgmental eyebrow as she answered the door. Marius limped from the living room, smirking as Micah bid him to behave. He shooed the woman and invited me inside.

“It’s late.” His voice lowered. “Couldn’t sleep?”

He knew damn well that I couldn’t sleep. “Every time I close my eyes, I’m whisked back to Miss Kitty’s gynecological exam.”

“I told you not to look.”

“I could still hear it though.” I shuddered. “A real man would have killed me before my father so eloquently described what he was doing with the medical equipment.”

He sighed. “I was not expecting him to take her temperature that way.”

“You promised me you’d never talk about that again.”

“Talk about it?” He laughed. “Hell! Your father was teaching me things!”

“Please, don’t ever, ever, use those moves on me.”

“Christ, I’ve only got one leg. If you think I can bend the way your father was—”

I smacked him. Twice. Then I ordered Ambrose to attack. He beelined for the fake leg, bit the plastic, and gave it a good shake. Marius wasn’t amused.

“Good luck, mutt,” he said. “The damn thing is stuck.”

“Stuck?”

Marius warily eyed the dinner I’d packed, giving the sludge in the container a good shake. “What the hell is this?”

I frowned. “What do you mean stuck?”

“It smells terrible.”

“Your leg?”

Marius scowled. “Your dinner.”

I wasn’t tasting that gloppy porridge. “Oh, no. That’s your late-night snack.”

“Is it a punishment?”

“It’s a home remedy.”

“For what?”

I pushed Marius to his room, but Ambrose stalked to the backyard. Probably to harass the alpaca. I let him go and shut the door behind us. Should have drawn the curtains as well. Something about these conversations still felt so…

Naughty.

I pulled a fork from my purse and handed it to him. “This is a product of my sleepless nights. Since the…incident at Chloe’s…” I shuddered. “I’ve been having a hard time sleeping. So, I decided to do a little research.”

Marius didn’t trust the container. Neither did I. “Research on what?”

“Since there is no doctor in Ironfield who will voluntarily take my eyesight, and the historical society is one vote shy of making the county go dry, my options for black-out drinking and memory loss are limited. So, I decided to take a lesson from Dad and Chloe.”

“Careful. A lot of what we saw was illegal in forty-nine states.”

My stomach dropped. “Oh, not that. I’m brave, but I’m not that brave. Besides, I’m pretty sure that’s not how you make a baby.”

“It’s fun though.”

I arched an eyebrow. “You let me do it to you, I’ll let you do it to me.”

Now he recoiled and changed the subject. “So, you made dinner, huh?”

Smart boy. “Chloe had Dad eating foods which were rich in…certain qualities.”

“…What kind of qualities?”

What was the word for it? “Semeny?”

He handed the Tupperware back. “No way.”

“I mean, foods that enhance your…swimmers.” I shrugged. “You know, some foods can help crowd the pool a little more. Some vitamins encourage them to swim better. Some make them stickier.”

“To be clear… I’m still eating this food, right?”

“What else would you do with it?”

“Just tell me I’m not humping it.”

I smacked him. “You think I spent all that time cooking so you could stir in some real nuts? Didn’t think you were that kinky.”

“That’s me. No fetish too weird, no oatmeal unfucked.” He peeked into the bowl. “What’s in it?”

“A mix of garlic, broccoli, and walnuts.”

His expression lightened. “Not bad.”

“A little ginseng. Some dark chocolate. Mostly bananas. And oysters.”

Marius laughed. “So, the trick to knocking you up is projectile vomiting? That’ll get you in the mood.”

“If it gets the job done?”

Marius’s limp was pronounced tonight. He shuffled across the room, leaning against his old, antique dresser. First time I ever saw him wince.

I forgot the dinner. “You’re uncomfortable.”

Sometimes it was easier to skip the questions he’d never answer and state the obvious.

Marius hated that I called him on it. He scowled. “Yeah. The prosthetic.”

“Take it off.” I smirked. “Or is it actually stuck?”

He didn’t laugh. “…It happens.”

“No way.”

His eyebrow rose.

Well…that was a problem.

“What can you do?” I asked.

“Nothing you gotta worry about,” he said.

He’d intended it to be the end of the conversation. He wasn’t that lucky.

I plunked onto his bed. “You know what I don’t understand?”

“This oughta be good.”

“I’ve been naked with you.” And the thought still quickened my pulse. “We’ve been together. Sweating. Orgasming. Pretty much being as vulnerable as any two people could be.” I pointed to his leg. “But you’ve never taken that off. It can’t be comfortable.”

Marius studied my curves. “Anything is comfortable when I’m balls deep in you.”

I took that as a compliment. “Take it off.”

“No.”

“I want to see.”

“Absolutely not.”

Now he was getting self-conscious? “But I’ve seen every other part of you.”

“Then you can imagine the rest.”

That was absurd. “We need to trust each other.”

Marius clenched his jaw. “I agreed to get you pregnant, not to share my innermost thoughts.”

“I didn’t know that package was available. Was that an add-on?”

His eyes darkened. “Let it go.”

“You really should be comfortable with me by now.”

He swore. “Jesus, Gretchen. Even if I wanted to show you, I can’t do a goddamned thing about it. The leg is stuck.”

I snorted. “How does it get stuck? What did you do? Glue it on?”

“Not since the last time Quint pulled one of his shitty pranks.”

“Do you need help?”

His jaw tightened. “I certainly don’t need an audience.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I can give it a good yank.”

He prevented me from approaching with an outstretched hand. “No yanking.”

“Oh, right.” I winked. “You must prefer it nice and gentle. Light touches.”

“That a threat or an offer?”

I bit my lip, enjoying the secret giggle. “What would you like it to be?”

“Sloppy, crazed, and a little degrading.”

Pretty sure that’s how I’d like it too. But Marius was so desperate to change the subject, he actually picked up the container of sludge I’d whipped up. He braved a bite of the concoction.

And gagged.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

He coughed. “Doesn’t taste good.”

“I meant your leg.”

“It won’t hurt once it’s off.” He smirked. “Though a lot of things feel better once I get off.”

Enough of this. “Look, you’re hurting. The leg’s gotta come off sometime. Why don’t you let me help you with this…and then I’ll make it worth your while?”

Marius didn’t answer, and so I took it upon myself to dislodge his leg. I fell to my knees before him, gave him a wink, and reached for his pant leg.

“Just…no…” His grunt was pure frustration. “Don’t. You don’t know what you’re doing.”

I sighed. “One of these days, we’re gonna have to act like two normal, consensual, sexually-active adults. You know the type. They undress each other, sex each other up, remove each other’s limbs.”

He batted my hands away. “Says who?”

“Says me. If I can take your pants off, I can take your leg off too.” My frown matched his. “Then, if you don’t get over yourself, I’ll beat you with it.”

He swore. “I don’t want you to see…”

“I realize you don’t have a leg, sailor. It’s not gonna be a surprise. I can deal with it.” I sat back on my heels, voice softening. “Question is…can you?”

No.

That much was obvious.

His eyes darkened, the green fading into shadow. He was brave enough to face the injury, to survive and do the physical therapy and confront the rest of his life in the prosthetic, but he was too afraid to ask for any help.

Broke my heart.

He moved slowly, tugging his pants up to reveal the silicon compression sock wrapped around the end of his leg. The sock fit his thigh into the prosthetic’s plastic frame.

“It’s not complicated,” he said. “Works by making an airtight seal with my leg and the socket. When I want to take it off, I press this…” He repeatedly pressed a button. “And it releases the pressure. Or…it usually does.” He slapped the socket with a frustrated hand. “But the button must be caught on something. Probably the fucking sock. It’s not releasing.”

I clamped my mouth shut to hide the smile. “So…you’re vacuumed sealed into your leg?”

“Something like that.”

The giggle slipped out easier than his thigh. I reached for the prosthetic, something I hadn’t dared attempt in our previous nights together.

“This is not how I imagined tonight going,” he said.

The big baby. I pressed the button and wrapped my arm around the leg. “Give it a little wiggle.”

“Sweetness—”

“I’m not asking for a dance.” I shushed his complaints. “I’m holding it tight. You…step backwards. Don’t worry. I’m planted.”

“You’re delusional.”

I yanked, nearly pitching him off balance. Marius clutched the dresser to prevent a fall.

“God damn it. That’s not how you do it!”

I yanked harder. He twisted, knocking me onto my butt.

“Christ. You think I’ll let you grab my dick after you manhandle my leg?” Marius shielded a part of him that needed more than a single hand to cover the good bits. “You’ll rip it off, and there’s no prosthetic for that.”

I shrugged. “Sure, there are, but they’re not great at making babies.”

Marius groaned. “Look. You can’t wiggle it off. You need to break the seal with liquid.”

“Oh.” Easy enough. “I’m on it.”

He fiddled with the sock. “There’s a bottle on my dresser.”

Huh. Did he mean the bottle of water…or the little container of a far slipperier, water-based helper? It had helped us get in and out of tight spots before. Just never thought of using it like WD-40.

Hopefully we never mixed up those bottles.

Marius leaned against the dresser, palms of his hands pressed into his eyes. Poor guy looked tired. Doubted he’d slept well. Ever.

Well, getting the leg off would help. I dropped to my knees and figured, if nothing else, the image would make the situation more tolerable.

The lubricant was potent stuff. Just needed a teeny, tiny squirt, and it would slather his leg, the inside of the casing, and his silicon sock. What better way to slip the limb off than with a product designed to slide?

I aimed the bottle, lightly squeezed—

And the lid came off.

Whoops.

The lube glopped out, coating his leg with a gelatinous slime.

Marius hissed. “What the hell?”

This was gonna make a mess. I attempted to grab a handful of the jelly and unsuccessfully shoved it into the bottle. It smeared over his leg, his limb, and my arms.

“Sorry!” I squealed. “I think it came out too fast.”

“Did you just…” Marius stared at the dollops of chunky grease rolling over his skin. “Lube me?”

I rubbed my hands on my shirt. Bad move. The lube was awfully fun when applied to the correct area. But when shoved down a silicon sock and squished into a jammed, prosthetic leg stuck to an irritated SEAL? Not exactly the recipe for seduction.

He pointed to the Aquafina on his nightstand. “You’re supposed to use water!”

Whoops. I reached for his sock, but my hand slipped off. Reached again, but it only slathered him with more of the lube. Most of it ended up on his thigh. The rest stained the carpet.

“This is gonna be a bitch to clean,” he grumbled.

I arched an eyebrow. “Don’t you lecture me about cleaning lube. I’m an absolute mess after you’re done with me.”

“Knew I should have taken a picture.”

My hands slipped over the prosthetic, but it remained frustratingly fused to his leg. I reached for the bottle, ignoring Marius’s complaints. The silicon sock was at fault for this. I peeled it down, shoved the bottle of lube inside, and gave it a squirt, emptying the rest into the sock.

Marius cringed. “This is…ridiculously uncomfortable. And you’re wasting it all.”

“If you ask me, the lube’s a little unnecessary for us.”

“Just trying to go easy on you. That’s a lot of cock to take for someone so…inexperienced.”

“Not so inexperienced now.” I glanced upwards. “After last time? I’m practically a professional.”

“Care to put that to the test?”

I grunted, gripped the prosthetic, and gave it a rip. Marius yelled, but my hand slipped as the seal broke.

I plunked onto the ground. His leg went with me.

Marius fell backwards, smacking his head off the dresser as he tumbled to the floor.

“Fuck!”

I wagged his greased-up prosthetic. “Told you I could help.”

“Help by giving me a concussion?”

“At least your leg is free.”

“Surprised you didn’t take the other one with it.”

Which, coincidentally, was the leg he’d twisted towards me. Awkwardly. He shifted, rubbing his bad leg with a grimace.

Was he hiding it?

It wasn’t polite to stare, but I’d never really looked at it before, unobscured. But it wasn’t the leg that bothered me.

How could I sleep with this man—make babies with this man—and know nothing about him?

The question slipped out easier than the prosthetic. “What happened that day?”

Marius only shook his head. I wouldn’t let him avoid this conversation.

“Have you ever told anyone what happened?” I asked.

His hesitation revealed everything in silence. “You’re really naïve you know that?”

“And you’re closing everyone out.”

His voice dropped. “You don’t understand what I did in the SEALs.”

“So, tell me.”

“I can’t,” he said. “There’s no record of where the injury took place because my squad and I weren’t there when it happened.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I can’t tell you where it happened, how it happened, or what I was doing when it happened.”

My stomach twisted. “Then how are you supposed to heal?”

“Like anyone else. Suck it up. Deal with the pain. Be grateful that I have my life.”

“Were you scared?”

He laughed. “What sort of bullshit question is that?”

“Are you still scared?”

“I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”

Sitting there and flinching when I looked at his leg. “You don’t have to act tough.”

“Not acting.”

“Are you still hurting?”

He heaved a breath. “Like I said…I’m not acting.”

And I hated that. “Is there anything I can do?”

He smirked. “You’re doing enough.”

Oh, sure. “Sleeping with you?”

He didn’t attempt to get off the carpet, just settled in. “A good fuck is all I need, Gretchen. That, and a baby to get through the next interview.”

He could joke all he wanted, but his voice shadowed with pain. “Be serious.”

“I am.”

I didn’t like him hiding things, but I hated him lying to me. “Just be honest with me. For once.”

His expression twisted. He batted the lube bottle away, accidentally coating his hand with more of the grease. “Fuck. What do you want from me? Yes, I lost a leg. But I could have died.”

“That doesn’t make the accident any less traumatic,” I said. “Are you okay?”

“If you only knew how many assholes have asked me that—”

I wasn’t tolerating his bullshit. “And have you ever answered any of them truthfully?”

He stayed silent.

I sighed. “You work so hard to prove to everyone else that you’re fine. But you’re ignoring yourself. Your pain. That your life will be harder with only one leg.”

He still didn’t react. What did I need to do to get through to him?

“Are you having nightmares?” I asked.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

My heart broke. “Are you sad?”

“My life got ripped apart, Gretchen. What do you think?”

“Are you ashamed?”

That he didn’t answer. He struggled to his feet—foot—but he didn’t get very far. He sat on the edge of the bed and swore.

“I liked you better when you just laid back and took it.” His words were cold. Meant I was getting somewhere.

“And I liked you better before you decided to hide everything from me. Whatever happened to no bullshit?”

“Whatever happened to minding your own goddamned business?”

Hell no. “Whatever happened to healing? Admitting that you’re upset? That realizing the world fucked you over in a single heartbeat, and you were left all alone to manage the consequences?” I didn’t let him look away. “You refused everyone’s help. Hell, the only reason I’m here right now is because you need a uterus.”

“So?”

Thin ice. “So? You’ve got more than just a womb now. You’ve gotta deal with me. And I can either be your best friend or your biggest problem.”

“Right now, you’re a pain in my ass.”

“Good. Someone has to be. Someone needs to tell you what you don’t want to hear.” I grabbed his chin and stared into his camouflage green eyes that hid absolutely nothing. “You got hurt, Marius. Your life has changed. And it’s okay to get pissed off.”

“Pretty pissed now.”

“Then don’t you dare lie to me. Like it or not, we’re in this together. You and me. We made a deal—have a baby. But it’ll take more than getting sweaty in the sheets and making ice cream runs at midnight. We’re gonna have to deal with nine months of pregnancy. Doctor visits. Labor. Raising the baby. Eighteen years of report cards, school plays, and soccer practices. This baby is a new life.” I took his hand. “And you need a new life just as much as I do.”

“Think I don’t know that?” he asked.

“But before all of that can happen, you need to let me in. Accept my help for one second of your life. Tell me what’s wrong. Let me touch you. Let me enjoy the parts of you that survived the IED.” I smirked. “I won’t tell if you won’t tell.”

His words hardened, but he aimed the punishment at himself. “You know I’m not a man who takes handouts or pity.”

“I know.”

“I’m missing a leg, but I’m still more of a man than half the assholes in Butterpond.”

I knelt before him, but I reached only for his good leg. A gentle touch, just a caress.

“So, what are you afraid of?” I whispered.

“Nothing.”

“Marius…”

He tensed, answering too quickly. “That my life ended when the IED took my leg.”

I said nothing, letting his harsh breaths soothe the parts of him I couldn’t touch.

“Every minute of every day, I have to defend what’s left of my pride,” he said. “My masculinity. People see me and they pity me. They see a wounded animal, not the man I was before I left.”

I didn’t look up. “Are you the same man?”

“An injury doesn’t change a man. It only makes him stronger. Fiercer.”

I believed him. Losing his leg offered a handicap to the rest of the world. At least now, everyone else had a fighting shot against this monster of a man. A soldier. A warrior. A beast with such strength, tenacity, and power that the only way to slow him was by destroying a part of him.

But what remained was so much more dangerous.

“You know I’m attracted to you.” My voice teased in a whisper. I hadn’t meant to soften the words, it just happened, surrendering under his stare. “Leg or no leg, I’ve never felt…”

“What?”

Risky question. “I’ve never agreed to have a baby with a stranger before.”

“Should I be flattered?”

I smirked. “You should be working harder.”

“No problem there.” Now the rest of him hardened. His smirk whispered a mischievous promise. “You work me harder than any CO.”

“I expect nothing but the best.”

“Happy to serve.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Good. Then you won’t mind if I inspect my sailor?”

“Expect me to stand at attention?”

I glanced down, enjoying the tent peeking from his pants. “Looks like you already are.”

“Just keeping my equipment at the ready.”

“I don’t think we're stepping into battle yet.” The tips of my fingers grazed his bad leg. He tensed but allowed the intrusion. I rewarded his bravery and tugged down his pants. “Think of this as a drill.”

His cock pulsed hard. With a cautious hand, I curled my fist over that thick, hot shaft, and gave it a tug. He groaned. I nearly did too.

“You sure this isn’t the right time to try again?” he asked.

I pumped his cock, delighting in his fierce, desperate twitching. “My reconnaissance might have been wrong.”

“We can’t operate on faulty intelligence.”

“Maybe my timing was off.”

He hissed as I drew my mouth closer to him, my breath hot against his hardness.

“I don’t like taking chances,” he said. “From now on, I’m surveying the target every night.”

My heart fluttered. I tensed, wetting with desire as I finally had the opportunity to take his hard cock into my mouth.

And it was every salty, delicious pleasure I’d imagined.

I swirled my tongue around his head, eagerly lapping at the pre-cum budding at the tip. He jerked, nearly flinching away.

Was that good? Or was he still worrying about his leg?

Didn’t matter. Tonight, I’d make him forget everything—every insecurity, every frustration, every terrible nightmare. I would pleasure him the way he’d pleasured me. Thoroughly. Remorselessly. After tonight, this man would surrender to my touch.

Just as I’d already surrendered to him.

Falling for Marius was a risk, and it wouldn’t take long for it to destroy me. Giving myself to a man who’d bargain with my body as part of an arrangement was a mistake. As was desiring a man who only took me to bed to achieve his own ends.

But I couldn’t deny this—us. How perfectly we fit together. How hopelessly addicted I was to him.

His touch soothed me.

His kiss conquered me.

And in his arms, under his stare, I wasn’t taken or used.

I understood him. He understood me. And pleasure was our reward for finally understanding this truth.

I wanted this man. In every way, every hour of every day. But now, I had to prove it to him. I had to make him understand how he fluttered my heart and heated my core. Leg or no leg, injury or no injury, Marius Payne was nothing I had ever wanted in a man…but he was everything that I needed.

I swallowed him as deeply as I could. It wasn’t very far, but he liked to watch me struggle.

His shirt struck the floor beside me. He leaned back. Naked, for the first time.

I’d never seen him totally bare.

The man was absolute muscle. Packed strength hardened with raw power.

And his cock?

I never thought I’d find that part of a man’s anatomy so unbelievably sexy. Thick and hard, it pulsed in my hands. I swirled my tongue and licked, caressing the length with delicate and deliberate strokes. Marius groaned. He gripped the bed with tensing fingers, bucking his hips so I’d take more.

He’d said he wanted sloppy. Why not try it? Why not work a little harder, delight him a little more?

I groaned, gobbling all of him, surrendering to his length, falling low on my knees to lick him from balls to tip. The messy, slippery slide of my lips drew a carnal growl from deep within his throat. I moaned too. The vibration of my tongue only hardened his length.

“Jesus, stop.” Marius clenched his jaw. “You’re gonna make me…”

I grinned, licking the tip like a lollypop. “Do you wanna come?”

The thought drove him wild. He ripped me from his cock and hauled me to my feet. No fun. I rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand and grinned.

“Didn’t like it?”

His frustrated grunt silenced me. He slammed me against his body and captured me in a kiss, far rougher than I’d been with him. The heat pooled down in me, and I welcomed his intensity. Sunk deeper into his chest and curled my arms around his neck.

This wasn’t fair. His control. His demands. My surrender.

Marius’s words darkened. “You know the rules—until I’m absolutely sure I’ve put a baby inside you, I’m not coming anywhere except that hot little slit.”

“Even if I’m not fertile now?”

“Especially now.” His laugh was almost sinister, a glimpse of utter delight and depravity. “I want you craving me. Shivering with anticipation. I want your pussy dripping every minute of every day, awaiting this cock pinning you down, fucking you, and burying my seed inside you.”

I stared at him. Shocked, excited, and a lot scandalized. He spoke like an animal—rutting and wild. This wasn’t just sex. I’d awakened something primal, conquering and violent.

It only made me want him more.

His order clenched me to my core. “Take off your clothes.”

And I did as I was told.