Five minutes after Abigail is born, the electricity comes on. Five minutes after that, paramedics take over. I grab Lydia's pre-packed travel bag and follow them to the ambulance.Doctor Pastavich, Lydia's OB/GYN is waiting at the hospital. All our preplanning is out the window, but I'm able to cut the cord. A nurse takes Abigail away so they can check her out thoroughly. Lydia requires stitches and I hold her hand while the doctor works. A short time later, tightly bundled in a pink blanket, the nurse places Abigail back into Lydia's arms. She's sucking dramatically on her fist and we all smile."She's doing wonderfully considering how she made her appearance. A pediatrician looked her over. He'll be in to see you soon. Right now this little one needs to eat." The nurse helps Lydia with her hospital gown.Lydia lifts the baby to her breast and pinches her nipple, rubbing it against the small pert mouth. Abigail's head makes a searching movement before she finds what she's looking
It's been four weeks since Abigail was born and our life now revolves around a recently weighed in seven-pound ten-ounce bundle of fluff. Her feeding schedule gives us about two and a half contented hours and then she turns into a devil child.Little in our lives is the same. Even the smell of the penthouse has taken on the perfumed baby odor that now clings to us. My mother told me it's a combination of baby shit and baby vomit that makes the scent. I have my doubts but who am I to disagree with a woman especially a mother.Abigail's eyes are going from blue to green like Lydia's and her hair is growing curlier, thicker, and a more defined red. She follows her admirers with large eyes and graces them with quick smiles and contented gurgles when we least expect it. Our lives have changed for the better and I want a penthouse full of the little rascals.Today, I have the pleasure of spending the next hour alone with her highness while Lydia goes to the gym to work out for the first t
Our nanny interviews are unsuccessful over the next two weeks. I'm back at the club most evenings and Lydia is growing grouchier each day.It's the busy season with out of town travelers arriving in droves. I perform two basic scenes with experienced subs who don't need sexual stimulation. I'm ready to have my wife back and she's all I can think about. Lydia has no problem giving me blow jobs but we're both at the point where kinky sex is what we really need. Aftercare with the second sub is tricky because my cock swells with thoughts of my wife when I should be thinking about the woman I'm holding.It takes three minutes to decide that this isn't working, so I fetch Celia a drink of water and hand over orange slices before letting her go to the bar to visit with friends. There's no way I'm doing another scene tonight. I notice a crowd gathering at one of the stations and decide to check it out before calling it a night."Damn," I mutter under my breath when I see who has everyone's
I sit her ass on a high bench and go to my knees to remove her boots. I take my time and massage the instep of each foot because I know this is her first time back in heels. She makes small sounds, which are nothing compared to the ones she'll be singing later. I rise and pull her forward so she's standing in front of me. I unzip her skirt and slowly peel the material over her hips. Naughty, naughty girl. She's completely bare from waist down. I turn her around and unclip her bra, sliding the straps over her arms until it falls to the floor. Taking her hand, I lead her to the cross, secure her so she's facing me and place a blindfold over her eyes.I leave her in all her beautiful glory and turn on soft sultry music to set the scene. I want her thinking about what's coming next while I fetch a few things from our room. The waiting will drive her crazy, which is half the fun. I glance into Abigail's bassinet but she's not there. I check in the nursery and Raul is holding a quiet Abby.
PART TWOAs the gray gun smoke dissipates and the house becomes dark and eerily quiet, the usual watery burn from the smoke hits my eyes. I'll take the acrid smell home on my clothes and my eyes will remain red until I sleep off the effects.After hours of preparing the SWAT team's entry, the violence is over quickly and several bullet-riddled bodies lay on the bare floor. Unlike what Hollywood portrays, there are only small pools of blood beneath the bodies. No splattered blood-covered walls, just a body count.The underground intel led us to believe there were only three men inside, but where there's one gun, there are two and with two, there are three. Training dictates you never forget the plus-one rule.The entry team suffered no injuries, though a piece of sharp, splintered wood from the doorframe nicked my face. I barely notice the sting or the thin line of blood; my attention is on the safety of my men and finding the women."Clear, clear, clear." The cries sound from othe
My light travels toward the voice, stopping three cages down on a woman with eyes squinting from the glare of the flashlight. I lower it a bit."Sorry," I say softly. "Can you communicate with them?" It will take time to bring in an interpreter and the last thing these women have is time. We need to get them out. "Yes, if your intention is good," she replies in a stronger voice."We're here to get you out," I assure her. "Do you know how many are alive?"She inhales and exhales jaggedly before speaking. "Sahar is gone, but I think she is the only one. She is next to me." Her ragged voice tears at my soul as my light drifts to the next cage.There are two hands inside-one belongs to the woman speaking; she is holding tightly to the lifeless, darkened, hand of the dead woman next to her. In all my years as an officer I've never seen anything more horrifying. It must have shown on my face in the glow of my flashlight."I... I told her I would not let go. She was so afraid." Her voi
I finally prop Hooriya against the wall by the stairs so I can help the other women."Stay here. I'll carry you up when the others are taken care of. I need you to keep assuring them that we mean no harm." Soft, soulful cries are now coming from several of the cages and we need to get them out as quickly as possible.Though Hooriya's voice is shaky, it's firm and soothing. Even if I can't understand the words, I understand the tone. A female paramedic arrives and helps assess the victims. I don't know the woman well but fully understand the tight set of her jaw as she takes in the scene and evaluates the situation. Slade and Kip carry women one by one up the stairs. I chose these two men because they are both married and known to be tight-lipped. Cops love gossip and I want to keep the women out of as much of that tongue-wagging as possible. Hooriya is barely standing on her own when the last woman is carried away. "I'm going to lift and carry you up the stairs," I tell her."No,
At my last appointment, the doctor said I could walk without the knee brace, but my stride is still tentative. I walk slowly to my computer and bring up my email account: junk mail, a short "Just to say hi" from one of the secretaries at the department, and a greeting from my mother asking when I'm visiting.I almost miss it, but buried in the fifty plus emails is an urgent message from Nathanial. Nathanial Monroe. I stare at the name and my mind drifts back in time.PastLocation: South Africa, classifiedThe team had two goals: rescue the hostages and everyone return to camp alive.I blew it and took a bullet to the shoulder. Then I was held in place of the rescued captives. I wasn't afraid, but I was one pissed off Marine.I was secured to a chair with my arms and legs bound. I knew the captain of my team would get the hostages safe and then come back for me. Marines never leave wounded comrades behind-or any comrades for that matter. They would either take me to medical car