Knocked Up and Punished: A BDSM Secret Baby Romance Read online

  Table of Contents

  Epilogue - Jayce

  Epilogue - Miley

  Prologue

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Epilogue

  Join my Facebook Group!

  Knocked Up and Punished

  Penelope Bloom

  Contents

  1. Miley

  2. Jayce

  3. Miley

  4. Jayce

  5. Miley

  6. Jayce

  7. Miley

  8. Jayce

  9. Miley

  10. Jayce

  11. Miley

  12. Jayce

  13. Miley

  14. Miley

  15. Epilogue - Jayce

  16. Epilogue - Miley

  17. Sneak Peak: Knocked Up by the Master

  18. Lysa

  19. Leo

  20. Lysa

  21. Leo

  22. Sneak Peak - Knocked Up by the Dom

  23. Kylie

  24. Damian

  25. Kylie

  26. Damian

  27. Bonus Content - Single Dad Next Door

  Prologue

  28. Reid

  29. Sandra

  30. Reid

  31. Sandra

  32. Reid

  33. Sandra

  34. Reid

  35. Sandra

  36. Reid

  37. Sandra

  38. Reid

  39. Sandra

  40. Reid

  41. Sandra

  42. Reid

  43. Sandra

  44. Reid

  45. Sandra

  46. Reid

  47. Sandra

  48. Reid

  49. Sandra

  Epilogue

  50. Bonus Content - The Bodyguard

  Prologue

  51. Makayla

  52. Jesse

  53. Makayla

  54. Jesse

  55. Makayla

  56. Jesse

  57. Makayla

  58. Jesse

  59. Makayla

  60. Jesse

  61. Makayla

  62. Jesse

  63. Makayla

  64. Jesse

  65. Makayla

  66. Jesse

  67. Makayla

  68. Jesse

  69. Makayla

  70. Jesse

  71. Jesse

  72. Makayla

  73. Epilogue

  74. Join my Mailing List

  75. Join my Facebook Group!

  Also By Penelope Bloom

  1

  Miley

  Am I really going to do this?

  My heart is thumping, my hands are clammy, and I can’t seem to catch my breath, but I’m here. I told myself if I just drove here, maybe the conviction would melt away. Maybe I’d realize how ridiculous I’m being and just go home--back to waiting for the next handsome tragedy to come walking into my life.

  When I close my eyes I can still hear the sound of his shouting last night. I can feel the hot sting of pain on my cheek and the slow afterburn of shame that followed. His words still linger in my mind like poison. Fucking cry. That’s all you’re good at.

  My hands clench and my eyes sting, but I hold back the tears. I push them back with the force of my anger alone. I won’t cry over him. I don’t care how much pain he caused me or that my eye is still dark and bruised from when he hit me. He doesn’t get any more of my tears.

  I told myself I would stay away after Cade. He called himself a Dom and he called me his submissive. I trusted him to show me the kind of relationship I’ve craved in the deepest corners of my mind. Instead, he took advantage of me and abused me.

  So I’m swearing off dominant men. But after one look at my overdrawn bank account, I can’t give up my job at the club. It pays triple what I could get anywhere else. Besides, my brother, Kyle, will be there to keep an eye on me, and if Cade has the nerve to show his face at the club again, I’ll just stay near Kyle until he’s gone.

  I let out a slow, shuddering breath.

  I can’t think about Cade. I won’t. It only makes me feel stupid and embarrassed. Ashamed, even, that after all this time I still can’t seem to pick the right guy.

  I approach the front doors of the building, which is planted between an Italian restaurant and a abandoned movie theater. Two bouncers stand in front of the door in dark suits.

  “Is Kyle here tonight?” I ask one of the men, whose name I still haven’t learned.

  “Yeah,” says the taller of the two. “He’s working the floor tonight.”

  “Thanks,” I say, slipping inside the door they open for me.

  The interior of the club has an old speakeasy kind of atmosphere. A huge bar dominates the main room, and several staircases and curtained doorways extend beyond the main entryway. The men and women in the club are dressed in sleek and elegantly classy clothes that make my own outfit feel too simple and bland, but it’s the best I could put together with my budget. Some people wear masquerade style masks, but others make no effort to hide their faces. The club even smells expensive--like fancy liquor and cologne. Music thumps through the air that can only be described as erotic. The beat is driving and moves through everyone in the room, from the way the women move their hips as they cross the room to the way couples gyrate on the dance floor.

  I feel so out of place here, but something draws me to this world. It’s like an invisible string that I can’t break free from--the farther I move from it the tighter the pull gets until I end up here again.

  I tuck some hair behind my ear and start walking through the crowded club, unable to stop from brushing shoulders with people as I go. I find Kyle leaning against a wall by the bar. He’s wearing a tight black shirt and has a bored look on his face. He smiles when he spots me, but his expression falls when he notices my black eye.

  He pushes off the wall and rushes toward me, concern written all over his face. “Where is he?” he asks.

  “Stop,” I say softly. “I appreciate it. But I don’t want you to go trying to kick some client’s ass. We both need our jobs.”

  “You think I care more about my job than my little sister?” His eyes are hard and piercing, already scanning the crowd for Cade.

  “Kyle,” I say, putting my hand on his arm. “I just need you to keep him away from me if he comes back. Okay? Please let me try to fix the rest. Maybe I can convince the owner to ban him or something. But I need to do it myself,” I add more quietly.

  He watches me for a long time before letting out a long breath and nodding, jaw clenched tight. “But if he tries to lay a hand on you, I’m going to break his fucking arm off.”

  “Fine,” I say with a small smile. “Do you know anything about the owner?” I ask.

  “You haven’t met him?”

  “You have?” I ask, a little surprised. “I’ve only been allowed to meet the bouncers and the bartender since I started. I’m not even supposed to go into any of the rooms beyond the lobby yet.”

  Kyle purses his lips thoughtfully. “Probably for the best. It gets... uh… kind of intense in some of the rooms. I don’t know if I like the idea of my little sister going into those places.”

  I plant a hand on my hip and glare at him. “Really, Kyle? You’re fine with me getting a job at a BDSM club and even dating one of the clients, but you don’t like the idea of me going into those places?”

  “Hey, I never said I liked this, but at least you’re just bartending in the lobby. I can keep the creeps at bay when you’re out here. You start going into the scene rooms and the exhibition areas and you’d be on your own.”

  “Is that w
here the owner is? In one of those rooms?”

  “His office is way in the fucking back. And…” Kyle sighs, shifting on his feet and leaning in closer. “Just be careful, okay? I get a vibe from that guy. I don’t know if it’s good or bad, but just be careful.”

  I nod, resisting my inner-teenager’s urge for a dramatic eye-roll. I know Kyle is just trying to protect me, so I can’t be too annoyed with him. He has been my shield for as long as I can remember. Back when our dad’s abuse changed from emotional to physical, Kyle was there to be my protector.

  I leave the bar area for the first time since I started working here and head in the direction Kyle said--toward the back, where dark red curtains are all that stands between me and the mysterious back of the club.

  I push through the curtain into a large room set up like a private theater, with sleek, half-backed couches positioned all around the walls in a semi-circle. A raised section of the room serves as a stage. There is a line of men waiting off to one side of the stage and a woman standing in the center of the stage, her head hidden behind a lace hood. Besides the hood, she’s completely naked and tied to a tall post by several leather straps. She probably couldn’t move a muscle if she tried. The way she’s positioned has her legs spread and her ass tilted up in the air, giving the masked man standing behind her access to slide his fingers inside her. The sounds of her moans fill the room, drowning out the low music. After a few moments the man backs away and another man approaches from the awaiting line.

  I take a half-step back, suddenly feeling in way over my head. This is insane. Those people are just waiting in line to have their turn with her like it’s some kind of buffet. I keep backing away from the scene in front of me until I bump into the wall and suck in a startled breath.

  I’ve never thought of myself as a prude, I mean, I’ve always felt drawn to the lifestyle, but this is… overwhelming. I feel extremely uncomfortable, a little disgusted, and a whole lot curious. Like crane my neck to look at a train wreck kind of curious.. This curiosity feels dark and lust-filled and has me imagining what it would be like to stand on that stage with lace covering my head, waiting in total anonymity while strangers objectified me and used me.

  I shiver.

  Maybe in another life.

  I turn to leave but stop short when I come face to face with a masked man. He’s tall. God is he tall. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. The parts of his face I can see are strong and angular: a jaw dusted with stubble, defined chin, and eyes as gray as stormclouds watch me from within the mask. My eyes wander down his neck to the broad shoulders beneath his suit.

  Nothing good. There’s nothing good that can come from a man like this. I’ve made that mistake enough times in my life, and maybe for once I can actually learn my lesson. Just leave. Walk away before you get tangled up with another asshole. Before you get hurt.

  “Excuse me,” I mutter quickly. Even as I speak, I can feel the traitorous flame deep inside me flickering to life, daring me to see what this masked man has to offer. That’s a dangerous, stupid thought, though. I came here to find the owner and talk to him about Cade, not to get myself entangled in another disaster waiting to happen.

  I sidestep and try to move past him, but he blocks my path. “I never said you could leave, princess,” he says in a deep, rich voice.

  Wrong night to test my patience, asshole. “Yeah?” I say. “It’s good I don’t need your permiss--”

  My words are cut short when he actually sticks his arm out, blocking me from passing. “You sure about that?” he asks. “You sure you can get out of here without begging?”

  I swallow hard. Fear curdles in my stomach, but I don’t want him to see how he’s affecting me. “What happens if I scream? Won’t those bouncers come drag you out of here?”

  He watches me without fear. “We could find out.” He steps closer until his hard body presses against mine, until I can smell his cologne. So close I’m practically enveloped in his big, strong body. “Go ahead,” he whispers. He plants his hand on the wall above me and leans down until his lips are beside my ear. “Scream for me. I’m sure it’ll just be the first of many.”

  I clench my teeth, breathe out a frustrated but determined breath, and then stomp down on his foot as hard as I can. He grunts in pain and flinches back with a curse of annoyance.

  I shove the curtain aside and head for the exit. The owner will have to wait. Maybe forever. This was a mistake. Coming back here was a mistake. I don’t care how good the money is. I don’t care how much my soul seems to cry out for the kind of intimacy I imagine can only be found in a dominant-submissive relationship. I need to close this chapter of my life and leave it where it belongs. The past.

  The sound of my heels stomping across the floor draws a few looks, but no real serious attention. No one even looks close enough to see the tears ruining my mascara. I guess it’s all just hitting me full force tonight--how far I’ve let things get out of my control. How completely lost I am.

  I’m storming toward the exit when a firm hand grips my arm, stopping me in my tracks. I see Kyle rushing toward us from my peripheral vision, ready to clock whoever this asshole is.

  The masked man sees him coming too. Instead of bracing himself for the punch, he lifts his mask, which stops Kyle’s attack as surely as if he had run into an invisible wall.

  “Mr Carlyle…” Kyle mutters. “Ah, sorry, sir. That’s just my sister, and--”

  “And she’s perfectly safe with me. You can go back to your post. And you,” he says, turning those stormcloud eyes, intensity radiating from him like heat, on me. “You’re coming with me.” His voice is flat and hard, leaving no room for argument, no room for protest. To my surprise, even Kyle steps back slightly, apparently ready to let me leave with this man.

  “There’s a place we can talk more privately.”

  I think about stomping on his foot again for the way he talked to me in the other room, but whether it’s a combination of being caught off guard by how disarmingly gorgeous he is or something I can’t comprehend yet, I feel compelled to follow.

  I decide to bottle up all the snarky, sassy things I want to say right now and play nice. I need to be calm, maybe I can convince this man to ban Cade and then I might just be able to stay working here. “I didn’t get your name,” I say as politely as I can.

  “Jayce,” he says, taking my arm and leading me back the way I came.

  He clutches me as we walk, it’s like he’s afraid I might fly away. Like he doesn’t ever plan to let me go. Guilty pleasure swirls in my chest from his touch. Jayce is a total stranger to me, but there’s something comforting in the possessive way he’s holding me. I’ve been with possessive men before, but the way he holds me feels protective instead of restrictive. It makes me want to cling to this moment until he’s erased the pain of my past. The way he holds me makes me feel like a coveted prize. Before now, I’ve only ever been held as if I were a thing--just a prisoner at the mercy of my captors, waiting to be used for their every whim and without any care for my wellbeing.

  Just a few words and a few moments with Jayce and I’m already comparing him to past boyfriends. This is exactly why I get into so much trouble. I’m so desperate to be loved and needed that I cling to the first sign of attention any guy gives me, and apparently I attract jerks like flies on shit.

  I barely notice where he’s taking me until we’re inside a room lit entirely by blue light. Some kind of fog or smoke rises slowly from the metal grating beneath our feet. A padded table with straps and cuffs sits in the center of the room, and huge blocks of ice are positioned by the walls. I frown in confusion, trying to piece together what the purpose of this room is and failing.

  “It’s freezing in here, why…?”

  “Sorry,” he says. “It’s busy tonight and this is the only open room right now.”

  “You don’t have an office or something?” I ask.

  The corner of his mouth twitches up a fraction. “It’s being remodeled.”


  I narrow my eyes at him before wandering slowly through the room, trying to compose myself. I find a vent blowing warm air near the large window that takes up an entire wall of the room. I can see a few couples lounging in booths on the other side. They aren’t paying us any particular attention, but I’m sure with the vibrant blue light in here, they could see us clearly enough, except for what little privacy the fog might give.

  “I feel like an animal inside a zoo here,” I say.

  “Or a piece of art on display,” he suggests. “Something beautiful to be admired and desired, to be lusted after. He folds his arms and regards me. I feel naked beneath those eyes, as if he’s stripping me not just of my clothes but my emotional armor, seeing down to the very core of my being. His gaze settles on my black eye. A change flickers across his face. My brother has always been protective of me, but the look on Jayce’s face seems like he’s ready to kill someone. “Who did this?”

  He moves closer, putting his fingertips to my cheek in such a delicate, concerned way I find myself taken off guard.