Tia

Pregnant. I know Banks is right. I know it’s the best possible solution. Maybe the only way to free myself from Lawson’s control and not put anyone else at risk. Except myself and our child.

“There are too many risks,” Fallon growls out.

“True,” Banks says. “But it’s not like you’ve been trying to prevent it.”

“Exactly,” I say, shaking my head. “Getting pregnant isn’t easy. It could take years.”

“I’ve read your file,” Banks says. “You’re fertile. There’s no reason you shouldn’t already be pregnant. But there are things we can do to help.”

“You mean fertility shots?” I ask, stomach rolling at the thought.

“No fucking way,” Fallon says. “It’s dangerous enough just getting pregnant, but those drugs just increase the chance of complications.”

“But she would be free,” Banks says, dark eyes watching me. “You’re strong, Tia. And healthy. And I’d be here to monitor you throughout the entire process.”

“Even if I get pregnant, there’s no guarantee that I’ll have a girl.”

“You’re right.” He tilts his head. “But what are our other options?”

His question is valid.

What are my other options?

At the moment, with Lawson gone and the handshake agreement made, there is little choice.

My silence says it all.

Banks is right.

“Do you want to get pregnant?” Emerson asks, reaching for my hand.

I lace our fingers together, comforted by his warmth.

Poor Emerson, he’s been through hell and back, and then he comes home in one piece only to have our world rocked all over again. But he’s always so full of hope and faith, and I need that right now.

I lean into him and say softly, “I’m not sure how what I want has to do with anything anymore. I don’t see how I get any choice in the matter.”

“You’ve made plenty of choices on your own, Tia. You’re the one who ran,” Huxley says. His tone is colder than I’ve ever heard directed at me. And I know his anger is motivated by fear. I feel it too. “No one forced you to come to Alaska.”

“Are you seriously going there?” Giles asks, glaring at Huxley.

“Are we really going to pretend that this whole mess isn’t her fault?” Hux tosses back, sitting and dragging his fingers through his hair, then over his face. “It’s time she starts listening to us for once.”

I swallow hard at his words.

“Hey,” Salinger cuts in. “It’s been a long day. Let’s try and keep things civil between us. The last thing we need is to be fighting among ourselves.”

At this, Fallon snorts. “Since when did you start sounding like a politician?”

“What do you care?” Sal asks. “And maybe I want to be a politician. Doesn’t look that hard considering Lawson has most of the US twisted around his finger.”

“You? A politician?” Fallon sneers, clearly needing a punching bag since he can’t take his anger out on the person he most wants to. “Do what you want for your own gain. I, for one, am more interested in making sure my wife is safe.”

I bite down hard on my bottom lip, wanting to step in and defend Sal, but he doesn’t need me to fight his battle. Besides, he isn’t backing down.

“Fuck you, Fallon,” Salinger says icily. “You know nothing about my relationship with Tia.”

“I know it took you a long ass time to--”

“Enough!” I shout. “All of you, it’s too much.”

“I didn’t mean--” Fallon starts.

I raise my hands, letting go of Emerson. “I just need some space, okay?” I exhale, pressing my hands to my face. “I’m not mad at anyone. Emotions have been high. It’s been a big day and…” I rub my temples and lower my voice. “Look, I know I messed up a hundred times and kept more secrets than I should have, so I don’t expect anyone to bow down and forgive me tonight, but I can’t keep rehashing my mistakes the same way you guys can’t keep holding your pasts against one another. Either we’re all in this together or we’re not.”

Silence.

Fallon finally nods, having heard me, and the rest of the men back off too.

“I love how protective you all are of me,” I say wearily. “It means so much to have your loyalty, your trust. But right now I think we all need to cool off. Let’s take some time to clear our heads, all right?”

Giles offers to go get dinner ready and Emerson says he’ll help. Fallon mutters that he’s taking a walk to cool down and Huxley goes off to make a call.

God, he’s always on the phone lately.

In the study, Salinger pours himself a scotch. He takes a sip, looking out the window, as snow falls down heavily outside. He gives me a hard nod before leaving the room.

Part of me wants to go to him, or any of them, to wrap their strength around me, and let their words encourage me that everything will be all right. But I need to think without their opinions influencing what needs to be done.

What do I want?

Does it even matter?

A pregnancy would solve so much and at the same time take away all I’ve held so dear. Freedom.

If I’m dead, this will all have been for nothing.

“You want some company?” Banks asks his voice low, his breath hot on my ear. I feel his solid body behind me and for a moment I consider falling against him, letting him sweep me away from all this fighting and all this fear.

But Banks hasn’t so much as kissed me. He likes keeping me on my toes, always guessing, always wondering. He’s dark and mysterious, and that’s what I find so intriguing about him. He’s like a wild beast that can’t be tamed, and I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be able to tame him. If anyone was going to offer a familiar body to press against my own to comfort me right now, it wouldn’t be his.

Still, as I turn to face him, something deep inside me stirs. Yes, it’s true he hasn't tried to make a move on me but I wonder, if no one else was around to compete for my attention, would he?

On second thought, I know he would. Well, not compete for my attention but I would get his full attention. And I don’t know that having his undivided attention would be a good thing for me. With no experience as serving as a sub, I’m sure he’d give me more than I can handle.

A part of me thinks he might understand me in ways none of the other men here do. It makes me curious about him. We’ve both spent so much time with our noses in books, and I wonder what a man like him could teach me?

“I wouldn’t turn you away if you wanted to stay,” I say, placing a hand on his chest.

Despite seeming to work twenty-four hours a day, the man is ripped. I’ve seen his body when we’ve been in the hot tub. Other than the kettlebell I know he keeps in his room, I don’t know how he stays in such good shape.

I run my palm lower, across the ridges of his abs.

Looking down, I see a bulge in his pants and feel my cheeks flush as I consider that fact.

Banks is turned on. By me.

Then I notice the way my nipples poke through the fabric of my top. Imagining him giving me attention seems to have stirred something awake in both of us.

I may be an emotional wreck right now, but I have found that one of the best ways to relieve tension is by losing myself in my husbands. And right now, I want to lose myself in Banks. To submit to his needs, no matter how dark they are.

“I was thinking. We should talk in my room,” he says, possessively tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I swallow. “Your room?”

With a glint in his eyes, he nods. “I know you were hoping for some downtime, but there’s something I should show you.”

I feel the rise and fall of my chest as I suddenly become hyper-aware of my breathing. It could be due to the fact that my heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest and flutter around the room, or it could be my flight or fight response. I know I was hoping to see his darker side, but I don’t know if I’m ready yet. “Show me something?”

“Yes,” he says, looking down at me. He steps closer, and his hand moves to my waist, holding me in place. His strong palms keep me reined in and I feel a flutter at my core, awakening at his touch.

Then Huxley walks into the living room, ending his phone call loudly, and Banks immediately pulls back. His hand falls and my body burns where it had been.

“What did you want to show me?” I ask, but he’s grown stiff and formal once more with Huxley watching. Whatever might have been, won’t be. Not now. Not here. Not like this.

The seconds drag on and I feel the heat emitting from Banks’ body. Suddenly, I find myself craving this reserved man in a way I hadn’t thought possible.

He was the one who suggested getting me pregnant. Is that what’s on his mind?

It must be. No way am I reading this all wrong.

Huxley pours himself a drink, then leaves the room without a word. Alone again, I hope that we can retrace our steps.

Finally, Banks speaks, “I’d like to show you some of my research. You said you have a Ph.D. Well, let’s see how much you understand about your own fertility.”

Realizing he’s not speaking in innuendos, I remember to breathe.

“Right, research.” I’m embarrassed at how deflated I feel. What did I hope he would show me?

I know exactly what I’d hoped for.

Dominance.

Strength.

Primal hunger.

I see it all in his eyes, even under the mask of aloofness he always wears. So, why the hell doesn’t he take me? He can’t possibly think that I’m still some innocent virgin who can’t handle the darker side of my sexuality.

“Can I take a raincheck? I’m not really up for stats tonight,” I say, disappointed by both him and myself.

He nods, his jaw clenching. “Of course.” His eyes though, never leave mine.

There is something he is battling inside and I want to understand.

“Tomorrow.” His dark eyes flash with something I can’t interpret, but it leaves me trembling, and wanting, needing his hands on me. “We’ll go to the lab. We’ll have plenty of alone time to handle everything that we need to take care of.”

I nod. I’m not quite sure what he’s talking about but agree to it anyway. “Tomorrow.”

He turns and leaves the room, leaving me alone. Practically panting for breath.

Despite all the turmoil and unrest in the house, the solitary thing on my mind is Banks. And that bulge in his pants.