It took Taylor zero-point-two seconds to fall in love with Musket. The look on his face when Vincent placed the puppy in his arms was priceless.
“Is he for me?”
“He’s for all of us. Well, he’s Vincent’s pup. But we all have to help out.”
“Oh my God, he’s adorable! I have to call Riley! This is amazing!”
He clutched the puppy to his chest while he phoned his boyfriend and Vincent hovered nearby.
“Taylor, I need to take him outside,” Vincent said.
“I’ll only be a minute. Hold on. Riley? You are never going to guess what I’m holding right now… No, it’s not a new dildo. Very funny… It’s a puppy! Nic bought Vincent a puppy and he’s—oh shit, he’s pissing. He’s pissing on me right now. Vincent! Fuck!”
Taylor gazed down at the yellow stain spreading across his T-shirt, then up at Vincent helplessly, then narrowed his eyes as none of us reached out to take the pup from him.
“You wanted to hold him,” I said.
Taylor continued to speak into the phone. “Yeah. They’re all just standing here watching, not helping me at all.”
Riley’s laughter could be heard, as Taylor grinned and shrugged, cuddling Musket closer.
Epilogue
Seven months later
Winter finally ended, spring arrived and summer after that. We got to know Zarah and spent time as a family together. Musket grew into a sensible, well-trained dog.
Daphne and Alexander got married, and the world went on as normal. Whenever I felt overwhelmed or uninspired during out sexual encounters, I had Vincent or Matteo take over Dom duties. Soon I’d feel my fingers itching to grab the reins again, and that would be that.
September, with its shorter days and cooler nights, breezed in to a general sense of anticipation. The call came during the third week of the month.
Vincent and I were enjoying some private time in the bedroom when Matteo knocked and apologized for disturbing us.
“What is it?” I said, when I’d opened the bedroom door.
Matteo stood there in his apron, holding a wooden spoon in one hand. He glanced past me at Vincent, who lay sprawled out, naked except for a pink camisole and lace panties, on the bed.
“Zarah’s in labor.”
Vincent jumped up and raced over. “Oh my God. This is it?”
“I think so,” Matteo said. “Her friend called me from the hospital. The doctors say it’s a go.”
“We’ll drive you. Vincent, get dressed. Matteo, turn off supper or get Taylor to take care of that.”
“He’s walking the dog. I don’t think he took his phone,” Matteo said, his expression suffused with anxiety.
“Oh. Well, turn everything off and leave a note.”
“Okay. Yes. Good idea.”
“Matteo, breathe. We’ve got lots of time.”
How did I know that? Because I’d been reading up on all things labor and pregnancy-related. Now that I’d been presented with the miracle of childbirth in someone else’s body, I couldn’t find out enough about the process.
Zarah’s husband, Dennis, had effectively vanished. Matteo had gone to the house with Zarah—with the strict promise not to engage in any physical altercation unless he was defending himself or her—to negotiate getting a few more of her belongings back, only to find the small bungalow unlocked and abandoned. Most of the items belonging to Zarah were gone, but she’d been able to salvage a few things.
Taylor had been sympathetic, since he knew what it was like to be in a controlling and abusive relationship, even if it didn’t involve physical harm, and to find the miscellanies of your life disposed of without your consent. It had only been through tenacious intervention and fortuitous circumstance that we’d been able to get his things back.
