WOW WOW WOW!
On day TWO on Amazon Her Two Billionaires and a Baby is at #62 and climbing on the Hot New Releases list for erotica.
You guys are AWESOME! Happy reading. Meanwhile, get a copy on Smashwords and I'll post when it's on other sites (B&N, I'm talking to you! Get moving and get it out of "Processing"!).
SQUEEEEE!
Julia <3
“I can't believe you still haven't told them!” Josie hissed from the corner of her mouth as she sat next to Laura in the waiting room of the nurse-midwife's office. Half the pregnant women seemed to be called to the midwife side, and half to the obstetrician side. Josie was so out of place there, like a toothpick in a sea of Teletubbies.No promises, but it looks like Tuesday or Wednesday for Her Two Billionaires and a Baby! Stay tuned!Laura compared her growing belly to those she saw. At nineteen weeks, she was almost halfway there. That first trip to the doctor three months ago had yielded a complete shocker: she was seven weeks along. One missed period and bam! She was nearly one-sixth through the pregnancy without knowing it. All the prenatal vitamins and pregnancy yoga and morning sickness remedies helped her to get here, but Josie was harping on the one, pesky little detail she couldn't deny her way out of for much longer.
The past twelve weeks had been a blur, and now she was about to meet her baby via ultrasound, go home with a picture of an alien baby that people would pretend was beautiful, and here she sat after drinking a liter of fluid, her panties moist from a bladder that gave up control right around the time her shoes stopped fitting. A light breeze could make her pee at this point. A sneeze would unleash a pee tsunami.
“Am I as big as her?” she whispered quietly, surreptitiously pointing to a woman who looked ready to drop any day. The shirt she wore looked like something a tent rental company made for her. She violated the laws of physics when she stood.
“Close,” Josie guessed. Her face reddened and she tsked. “Quit changing the subject! When are you telling Dylan and Mike?”
“Soon. After this,” she replied, pointing vaguely toward the midwife's office. Today she would have her first ultrasound and, she hoped, learn the baby's sex. She squirmed horribly, and not from Josie's nagging. Her bladder was rapidly in need of its own, separate bladder. A kegel would help, but damn if she could isolate and squeeze anything down there right now.
“You've been putting it off for three months, Laura! And you always say 'soon' but it's never 'soon.'”
“It's complicated.” Laura threw her a glare to stop a truck. If she said it...
“So we're inducing next week, when I hit thirty-eight weeks,” she heard the enormously pregnant woman say. A creeping dread seeped through her skin. Or was it a hot flash? She honestly couldn't tell the difference any more. Holy shit! That woman was twice as far along as Laura? How could they be close to –
“Laura Michaels?” A medical assistant appeared, chart in hand. The drill was simple for her normal appointments; go on in to the bathroom, pee, dip the sticks in, and if anything came back irregular, report it to the midwife. Thne sit in the waiting area again until called.
For an ultrasound, though, she went back through the maze of medical equipment and desks to a tiny room with an exam table crammed in. The platform seemed unusually high. Climb? Dude, she could barely wipe herself these days, the stretch a, well...stretch. Climb?
“Climb on up,” the male technician directed, his voice pleasant and his demeanor kind.
“With this exploding bladder, I'll squirt like a firehose if I lift my leg.”
Josie laughed. The tech seemed amused. “Nothing I haven't seen before.” All these baby people kept saying that to her. If it was supposed to put her at ease it did, but also left an unsettled feeling, as if her birth experience weren't unique, as if everything she was going through and that seemed so special were just...ordinary. Being ordinary didn't trouble her, in general, but the sensations and blossoming of this new life within her were so special, so life-altering, that she wished everyone around her would give just a little more “wow!” when they interacted with her.
Or, maybe, what she really wished was that she had a partner to go through all of this with her. Resting her hand on her belly, she wondered when she'd feel the baby move. Hopelessly eager, every pocket of gas, tweaked muscle, you name it – she braced and held her breath, hoping...
And wasn't that something she should share with the baby's father?
Fathers, an evil voice whispered in her mind.
Somehow she managed, with Josie's help, to get up on that torture table. Reclining on her back pushed her womb against her bladder, making her instantly homicidal.
“Oh, man, can't I pee? Please?”
“Just a few minutes,” the tech said, then explained the procedure. She hiked up her maternity shirt, a cute print from the Gap. Shopping for maternity clothing had turned out to be liberating, because the designers expected you to have breasts and a belly! Her shirt was a hippie swirl of pinks and turquoises, with lots of white thrown in. The panel on her maternity jeans was a pale blue, stretchy jersey added where the zipper and button normally would be.
She wanted to wear these clothes forever.
Maybe you will, if you can't lose the baby fat, that same voice said. Gah.
The cold gel made her kegels clench, helping keep in her urine but adding a sensory overload to that general region. The ultrasound wand the tech used went on the gel and soon she could see her little peanut, all bones and beating heart, floating upside down in an an enormous sea of black.
“There's the baby,” the tech said in a neutral voice, taking measurements. From the start, Laura had decided to have a low-tech birth, so this was the first ultrasound. Meeting her baby visually brought tears to her eyes, her heart swelling and even Josie was overcome with emotion.
“Oh, Laura,” she whispered, voice choked. She squeezed her shoulder.
Her child. That womb pressing hard against all that water, making her eyes cross and her ribs ache, contained a little growing human being that was going to come out in twenty-one weeks and be her little, precious baby.
“Boy or girl?” Leave it to Josie to get to the point.
The tech laughed, obviously accustomed to the question. “First off, do you want to know?”
“Yes!” the women answered in unison.
“Then give me a few minutes to do the required measurements, and I'll try to see. No guarantees – it's all about whether the fetus is in the right position, and what we can see with the machine.” Laura nodded and Josie seemed already to know that. The room was so tiny that Josie had to jockey for space with the tech. And it was getting warmer in here. Plus, she felt like an overstretched balloon that would burst if anyone breathed hard.
Loving warmth coursed through her. Baby. Her body, which she'd despised most of her life for its inadequacies, for letting her down time and again with men, was now ripe with purpose and growing a human being. How could she hate it right now? It was building, layer by layer, system by system, a whole 'nother human who would be part of the next generation.
She was a goddess!
Finally done with measurements, the tech stopped, frowned, and said, “Excuse me. I'll be right back.” The click of the closing door felt like a death sentence, the air sucked out of the room as Laura's entire body switched into panic mode.
“That can't be good? Why would he leave? Do you see anything?” Oh, God, no. Just no. Nothing could be wrong, right? She hadn't planned for anything to be wrong.
Josie peered at the screen. She shrugged. Non-chalant and cool, she made a questioning face and replied, “I don't see anything obvious, but I'm not an ultrasound tech.” Her hand on Laura's felt reassuring. “I'm sure it's nothing. Maybe all your talk about peeing made him need to go.”
“Don't make me laugh or I'll give you a golden shower, Josie.”
“Now you're turning me on.” The laugh did make her nearly pee, giving her a few fleeting seconds of amusement, shifting away from worry. A knock, then her midwife came in, followed by the tech.
Fuck.
“Sheri? What are you doing here. They said this was just a routine screening and I wouldn't see you.” What she wanted to say was Go away! Nothing's wrong Nothing cane be wrong so go away and let me not hear what you're about to say! but something in her knew that wasn't the case. She gripped Josie's hand like she was drowning.
Josie gripped back.
Sheri's eyes were kind but guarded, wrinkles forming everywhere as she smiled. Somewhere in her sixties, she had a relaxed, natural look to her, with dark brown eyes, tanned skin and long, grey hair braided in a thick rope that stretched over her ass. Today she wore a loose, flowing jacket over a tank top and a long skirt, an outfit not unlike many in Laura's closet.
“The tech just asked me to take a quick look at something.” Her voice was smooth and practiced. Josie nodded, eyes on Laura, her professional nurse face in overdrive. It felt like they were all hiding something from Laura, and she did not like this one bit. Sheri introduced herself to Josie and they shook hands in a perfunctory way.
The tech and the CNM put their heads together and murmured medical terms Laura strained to hear. She really was about to explode, her vagina starting to pulsate – and not the good kind of pulsating.
“I need to pee!” she whispered to Josie. How banal, to have such an insignificant need in the middle of what could be the worst news she'd ever heard in her life. Yet nature called.
The tech and Sheri pulled back, the tech leaving the room. Sheri's hand was warm and gentle on Laura's shoulder. “First, the baby is healthy according to our basic measurements.”
A huge, loud sigh poured out of Laura, like a yoga breath. “Thank God.”
“But it's a bit complicated.”
No!
“Right now, you're on the high end of amniotic fluid. There's a condition called polyhydramnios – it literally means excessive amniotic fluid. Your measurements show you are at the low end of having this condition, which means the fetus is just floating in all that fluid, like an overstuffed balloon filled with water.”
“Are you sure that's not just my bladder?”
Sheri laughed and reached out to grip Laura's hand. “Why don't you go and empty that poor, overstretched balloon and we can talk more. All the images we need are done.”
Laura started to get up and stopped. “The sex?”
Sheri cocked her head and made a face of surprise. “Oh! James didn't get to that before he found me. You want to know?”
“Yes!” she and Josie practically shouted.
Chuckle. “Well, then, if you can bear it, lean back again and let's look.”
Groaning, Laura complied, the pressure to urinate overwhelming her mind and body. This was crucial, though. Boy or girl? She'd wanted to know since the day the test said PREGNANT.
More gel. Wand. Gouging (not really, but it felt like it). Jiggle. “Why are you jiggling?” And then she knew, as the baby moved and shifted, trying to get away.
“Well, this is not an exact science.” Josie snorted. Sheri made a self-deprecating gesture. “I am, though, ninety percent certain it's a girl.”
Girl.
“I don't see the telltale penis I'd expect to see. Just the umbilical cord. The only time we're certain is at the birth.”
Girl. Laura had imagined the baby was a girl since day one. She was right. It really was. Mother's instinct always knew, right?
“Are you OK, Laura?” Sheri asked.
She shook herself out of her own thoughts and grinned. “I assumed it was a girl. I was right.” She stuck her tongue out at Josie, who had teased her she was wrong.
“You and Josie are having a baby girl,” Sheri said, looking at them both with great joy.
Hold up. “Me and Josie?”
“Awkward,” Josie said out of one side of her mouth. She addressed Sheri. “Um, we're not – ” she said, pointing between her and Laura.
“Oh, no! No, we're not a couple!” Laura added.
“If I were into women, Laura's totally not my type,” Josie added helpfully.
Hey, now. “What does that mean?” Laura cried out, indignant.
Sheri cut them both off, her face red with embarrassment. “I certainly did not mean to start an argument, and I apologize for my assumption. And Laura, you did mention that the father isn't part of the picture – ”
“Fathers,” Josie muttered. Laura cut her a glare that would kill Medusa.
...picking up where Her Two Billionaires left off...WHEN IS HIDING THE TRUTH A LIE?Laura flees after an amazing encounter with Dylan and Mike, an impassioned experience that sets her senses on fire and her heart ablaze. But hopes are quickly extinguished when reality settles in and she feels duped. Had they set her up just to get her in bed? Was she the butt of some elaborate sexual joke? Running for the safety of her best friend, Josie, she pours her heart out and learns that Josie has a few secrets of her own involving threesomes...COMING CLEAN IS HARDER THAN IT SEEMSAfter Laura leaves in a panic, Mike and Dylan must wrestle with their past, to come to terms with how it may jeopardize their future with her. A chance run-in with Laura and her friend Josie at a legendary Boston diner gives them renewed hope that they have a shot with Laura. When she accepts their offer for dinner – and only dinner – the guys see that being normal and comfortable and fun is the best remedy for their past transgressions, and they're determined to win her back, one Italian meatball and homemade tiramisu bite at a time.BUT FEAR MAKES EVERYONE KEEP SECRETSLaura lays it on the line: tell her any more secrets they might have. They just can't, though – hiding their billionaire status, they decide it's too much, too soon, with Dylan taking the lead as Mike feels they should tell the truth sooner than later. Deferring to Dylan, he keeps his mouth shut. The trio move on, and a night at Laura's house gives her the closure she needs to trust them again, a no-holds-barred lovemaking session that seals the deal and heals her wounds.Until a morning news show reveals that Dylan, Boston's hottest eligible bachelor, is actually a billionaire. And so is Mike. Standing in the office lobby, gawking at the television as it spewed unbearable secrets, Laura is agog and sprints to the safety of Josie. Shutting Mike and Dylan out for good, she licks her newly-opened wounds and prepares for a life without them.Until a positive pregnancy test changes everything.And this time, Laura's the one keeping secrets...until a dangerous fire in her apartment leads to her rescue by Dylan, who learns the truth in a life-or-death emergency that makes everything more complicated, because...It's always complicated.Her Two Billionaires and a Baby is the 50,000-word final episode in a four-novella arc (though this one's novel length!) that brings closure to the very unconventional, loving relationship between curvy Laura, hot firefighter Dylan, and calm, mellow Mike.
The morning coffee routine was getting old. What wasn't getting old, though, was this developing relationship between her and the guys. The guys. Even that was surreal and weird. Ah, hell -- nothing about this threesome wasn't bizarre, so she was getting tired of labeling it all as outside the mainstream. It just was. No getting around that. An internal argument deep within her raged on, one part telling her this was madness and a stronger, more settled part humming along nicely, ignoring the part that screamed "freak!"
Speaking of freaks, Josie was saying something through sips of java. "If you kiss one of them, do you have to kiss the other?"
"Huh?" Laura poured herself a cup. Might as well benefit from the fruits of her labor. That, and she needed the jolt. Yet another uncomfortable conversation with Josie, though she had to admit that the girl definitely helped sometimes, making her think about things she hadn't considered. Like this?
"Does it have to be 50/50? If you sleep with one, do you have to sleep with the other? Or is it always a threesome? Is there always double, well -- you know?"
Freak! "You actually sit around contemplating these things, Josie? Seriously?"
She had the decency to pinken a bit. "Who doesn't?"
"Most of the rest of the world." Sip. If she didn't fill her mouth with something it would soon be full of words she'd regret saying. Please. This was devolving quickly into voyeurism. Laura was surprised by how annoyed she was becoming. Josie was always inquisitive. It was just who she was, and as aggravating as she could be at times, it had never troubled Laura this much.
Josie shot her a wary look. "I just...no, I don't sit around dredging up embarrassing questions to ask you, Laura." Her tone of voice conveyed hurt feelings. "But it's natural, I think, to wonder. Most threesomes are one-night-stand kind of deals. What you have is so out of the realm of normal that it makes me think. Philosophize and stuff, about what it means for the long haul."
Aha. And that was it. That was why this bothered Laura so much.
Because, damn it, Josie was right.
"What you're doing, Laura, is fascinating to watch from the outside. Plus, yeah, I am demented. So sometimes my mind just...goes there. And I found myself wondering what it felt like, eating dinner with two guys, snuggling on the couch with two guys, wanting affection -- but not sex -- and having to, what? Pick? Kiss both? Cuddle in a sandwich?"
That made Laura laugh. "I thought it would be weird, too. It kind of was, at first. Mike made a big spectacle of making sure I knew they didn't expect sex. I knew what he was doing. He really was just trying to be nice and to help me relax." She let out a puff of air. "And it was good and kind and all that, but it pissed me off. I still don't know what they were thinking, hiding the truth about their relationship from me."
"They're not gay." Josie started to unpeel a banana from Laura's fruit bowl.
Laura did a double-take. "Did anyone ever think they were?"
“Guys, we need to talk.” She picked up her purse and sat down, plunking it in her lap, then cocked one eyebrow at Dylan's appearance, a hint of a smile spreading her lips. Good. Good. Mike let out a rush of air; he'd been holding his breath without realizing it, as if that could stop time. Or, maybe, prevent him from bungling this. Too late for both.
“I don't have anything to lose here, so I'm just going to say this.” She paused, eyes rolling up and to the left, as if rethinking something. “Well, I have plenty to lose,” she muttered, “but pride can be rebuilt.”
With a frown, she put her purse back down and stood, waving her hand at Mike and Dylan, who both followed her lead and soon Mike found himself sitting next to Dylan, who plopped on the couch with a poof that made Mike cough a bit, flour now sprinkling his forearm. He gave Dylan a c'mon, are you kidding me? look.
“What? I get artistic in the kitchen.” Dylan self-consciously wiped his face, looked at his palms, and grimaced at the white powder.
“You cook like a four year old with an Easy Bake oven and a fan.”
“Hey!” Laura said firmly. “Me. Remember me?” Sheepish, they both had the sense to dip their heads before giving her their eyes. Mike suppressed an urge to shove Dylan. Unfortunately, Dylan had the impulse control of Bill Clinton in a room full of interns and couldn't hold back his own nudge. Mike simmered. Not worth it. Not worth it. Not worth it.
His eyes settled on Laura.
Worth it.
Dylan blinked, his eyelashes white. “Yes.” His voice came out like silk. “Of course we do.”
“Then shut up and stop the childish crap and hear me out.” She wasn't angry now – her voice was preternaturally calm, and it creeped Mike out. Like she was detaching. Detaching not in some Buddhist sense, but detaching from them. From the relationship. From the possibility of what he knew, deep inside, was achievable.
So that creepy feeling needed to be respected.
And so did Laura.
“You know that what you did was wrong. You know that you should have told me.” Ah, here it comes, he thought. Good. Let's get this out in the open so we can deal with it like adults.
“We don't need to talk about this right now,” Dylan jumped in. Mike's hands twitched. If he strangled him would it be justifiable homicide? Instead he shoved him, hard, and stepped on his foot.
“Ow! Hey! What was that about?” Dylan crossed his leg up and massaged his instep. More flour. Jesus.
Mike gestured toward Laura while disdainfully brushing flour off his arm, carefully pointing it toward Dylan. “Let the lady talk.”
A grateful look from Laura was his reward. “We do need to talk about it. Now. So settle down there, buckaroo.”
Both men flinched, Mike's entire body turning into a lightning rod during a storm, directing all the electricity in the air through his nose, making his scalp stand on fire. Dylan just gawked at her, wide-eyed.
Instantly on alert, she seemed to realize something had happened, but Mike knew she wouldn't understand. “Did I just say something wrong?” she asked.
He leaned forward, wishing he could touch her, soothe her. Knowing he couldn't. Not yet. “No, no. Nothing wrong. It's just – that's what Jill used to call Dylan when he was, well, when he just was. Buckaroo. We haven't heard it in nearly two years.”
That face. Her cheekbones were so perfect, soft curves blunting hard bone, her eyes serene, questioning, and hard all at once, brows knitted in confusion and wariness, in something more – a look of evaluation, of surmising what was critical and worth knowing, to apply to some emotional calculus he didn't understand.
Buckaroo.
How one word could so easily change everything. Dylan swallowed so hard Mike could feel the click in his throat, and then he realized he had to break the tension, he had to make this all make sense, because Laura and Dylan weren't going to do it. All those years of Jill and Dylan carrying the emotional water in the relationship had made him stale. Soft. Lazy.
Time to step up.
