Rock On (Bad Boy Bandmates & Babies)

Rinsing her down once more, I lifted her out and patted her dry, taking my sweet time with the towel. I didn’t know why, or from where it had come, but I was suddenly certain it would be ending soon. First the lock down, and then our time together— or so I feared. The arrangement I had been certain I didn’t want was evolving into one I didn’t think I could live without.

“What’s wrong, Master?” Petra asked, as I dried her hair, always the most difficult part.

“Nothing, let’s get something hot into you.”

“Yes, please!”

“I meant food,” I clarified.

“I know, me too.”

Naked as a jaybird and pretty as a picture, Petra stayed where she was put, her hands flat on the table. She had gotten a lot better since the first time we tried and could hold a position for nearly two hours without trouble.

I didn’t want to be away from her though, and so I did my best to make my absence quick. If it really was ending, I wanted to have as much time with her as I could possibly get.

“What was that for?” she asked as I kissed her, placing the plate in front of her.

“Just because I love you.”

It was too late. The words were out, and I couldn’t take them back. They hadn’t been said in jest, either. It wasn’t the sort of thing I could laugh off or brush away. I had meant it and she knew it.

“I love you, too,” she said.

“Truly?”

“Of course.”

The tears were small at first but clear. Not of anguish or sadness about what was, they were tears of relief and joy in what might still come. We kissed and we touched, my hand on her neck, hers around my waist, our tongues soon coming into it.

“I have something to ask you,” I said, pulling away.

“Okay, shoot.”

“After breakfast. It’s getting cold.”

After breakfast, eating it before anything got cold, I carried my Petra back to our bedroom, placing her on the old Edwardian.

Opening the drawer, I retrieved the box. Long and thin, covered in black velvet, there were a few things it could have been. Another, more recognizable container stowed in my pocket.

“Open it.”

She did as she was told, the raw leather nestled in the silk lining. Morning sun was glinting in the silver heart charm attached to the front by a matching loop.

“It’s a collar. Yours if you want it. The lockdown isn’t going to last forever and, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want this to end— for us to end. Agree to wear the collar and you are consenting to be mine, now and as long as it is on. You can ask at any time for it to be removed, but when it does, it can’t go back on.”

The longest and shortest silence of my life howled in my ears, just before Petra turned her back to me, holding her long, beautiful hair out of the way. Getting the collar gently around her delicate neck, I closed and locked it at the back, careful not to do it so tight it would be uncomfortable.

“There was something else,” I said, getting the other box.

“Oh,” she said, seeing the box.

Without another word, she picked it up and cracked open the clam-style lid. The big diamond glinted within.

“Will you marry me?”

Petra burst out crying. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting, but it was still better than laughter, all things considered.

“Shall I take that as a no?”

“No, I mean yes, I will marry you.”

That was all I needed to hear. Taking the ring from the box, I slipped it onto her finger, and started to kiss my way down her neck.

“I have something to tell you too.”

“Okay.”

Petra turned so that she was facing me. Her expression was as serious as I had ever seen.

“Uh oh.”

“No, no, it’s good, at least, I hope. I think I’m pregnant. It’s yours, I mean, obviously, you’re the first and only one to– and we’ve been locked up together this time, with nowhere we could even go— oh, crap, this is coming out so bad because I’m so nervous! Anyway, my parents might freak, but they’ll get over it when they find out how rich you are, and that we’re getting married. Please tell me you’re happy, too.”

At first I was a bit too shocked and confused by how she was telling me to feel much of anything, but as things clarified themselves, I was very happy indeed.

“Yes, of course I’m happy!”

“Oh good. Whew. So, now can we have some fun?” Petra asked.

“Of course, gently though.”

“I’m only about two weeks,” Petra pointed out.

“Oh, I know, but it’s probably better that we get used to it now though. So that we’re ready when it becomes imperative.”

“Makes sense,” she agreed. “I’ll miss the playroom, but I’ll do whatever you think is best, of course.”