Page 56 of Pay the Piper

“All good?”

“All good.”

“Perfect. I know exactly what I want to ride next.”

What he wanted to ride next, it turns out, was a dark ride with multiple hidden drops. Clinging to his arm for the first two and screeching like a banshee, I’d almost forgotten about my new accessory. Almost. When the penultimate drop caught me off guard, my scream was multiplied by a sensation so shocking and foreign that I almost peed myself.

The fucking butt plug buzzed.

Out of nowhere. In my ass. Buzzed.

Briefly, I thought I’d imagined it. Or maybe the ride had gone over a rough patch in just the right way to make me think it was buzzing. At the top of the final, biggest drop, I caught a glimpse of Misha in the light. Gripping a tiny controller in his hand.

“Oh you son of a—”

As we plunged over the final drop, the relentless pulsing of the plug almost pushed me over the edge of my release, my scream contrasting his sinister laugh. His hands, big enough by far to hide the remote, were no hint as to whether torture was incoming. On rides when I expected it? Nothing. Yet in a quiet theater show, he was relentless.

Now, as we stop for another snack, I’ve solicited a truce so that I don’t scream an orgasm in a busy candy shop. I had to barter and beg, guilting him at the prospect of traumatizing a child who’s just trying to pick out their favorite treats.

While we’re in the gummy candy section, eyeing the delectable variety bags, Misha’s eyes alight like a, well, kid in a candy store, and a boy approaches. He’s looking at treats well out of his reach and sizing up Misha like he’s exactly the help he needs.

“Excuse me, can you hand me one of the blue bags from the top shelf?”

Misha obliges, but the boy lingers.

“How did you get so tall? My mom says I still have growth spurts to go, but I’m not nearly as tall as my dad, and some of the boys at school say I’ll never get any taller.”

Without hesitation, Misha kneels next to the boy. I can’t hear their entire hushed conversation, but I catch snippets.

“Your mom is right…Plenty of vegetables…Work hard in school and at recess…You like to play baseball? Keep it up…”

By the time he scurries off to rejoin his family, the boy is smiling ear to ear. Misha catches my smirk.

“What?”

I shrug, handing him my selections as we head to the register.

“You’re really good with kids. Really good.”

“Eh, it’s not like it’s hard. Get on their level, and don’t make things too complicated.”

Walking out at a leisurely pace toward our next destination, I ask the question I’ve been subconsciously terrified of. Based on little snippets here and there, I think I know his answer, but I need to be certain. It’s the one thing I’ve been desperate for.

“Do you want kids?” It’s less of a question and more of a blurt-ed accusation, and Misha pauses before pulling me into the shade of an alcove off the main street, as if he knows a crowd isn’t the right place to answer me. With his head cocked to the side, eyeing me with one eyebrow raised, he looks…confused? Maybe confused by my question. Which means maybe I’ve read him wrong. Time to backtrack.

“I mean, you don’t have to answer that. You might not know, or you might not be sure, like, if you want them with me specifically, which makes sense since we haven’t known each other long—”

My squeal is muffled by his hand as he spins me around, firmly but gently, hiding me from the busy street with his big body. Keeping his hand firmly in place over my mouth, the other cradles the back of my head. Bending down to press his forehead to mine, the heat in his gaze is back, hotter than I’ve ever seen it.

“You will not speak of any other women carrying my children, Abby. Do you understand?”

I nod as best as I can between the vise grip of his hands.

“No other women are worthy, just as I’d kill any man on earth who thought he deserved the honor of you growing his baby. Do you understand?”

I nod again.

“Good. I do want children. I always have, in a nebulous sort of way. But once I found my woman, I began wanting them with a vicious, all-encompassing desire that takes my breath away every time I look at her.”