Cover Reveal + Sneak Preview: Double Trouble

I was legitimately freaking out. How could I be pregnant? I could not be pregnant.

With my jeans-clad ass parked on the edge of a toilet seat, in a surprisingly well-kept gas station bathroom, I stared down at the positive pregnancy test in my hand and tried not to hyperventilate.

What am I going to do?

Sure, at twenty-nine years old, I would hardly be considered on the young side for having kids, but plenty of people waited until much later. Waited for things like financial stability, emotional stability, a monogamous marriage with one, single partner…

When, or if, I ever decided to get pregnant, I always thought it would be a conscious choice -not an utterly unplanned, total fucking shock.

Am I ready to be a mom? I questioned myself. Do I even want to have kids? I questioned further. I thought I'd have more time to gradually arrive at these answers at my own tempo, and on my own terms.

Until Pace, I never even realized that I had a breeding fetish. If I was being honest with myself, a great deal of the allure, for me, was how into it he was. Being “bred” by Pace was always about skin-on-skin contact, the heightened sense of intimacy, and raw, primal urges. It was not about parenthood.

Feeling him plunge to my core, without any barriers between us, and reaching soul-searing pleasure together, while being filled with his essence, was a spiritual experience. But the journey had always ended there.

I never really fantasized about anything beyond that point. I didn’t feel any driving urge to become a mother. This “breeding” fetish that Pace had introduced me to had never translated into a pregnancy fetish. It had always and only ever been about the act itself, never anything more.

"For fuck’s sake!" I yelped aloud, unable to contain my frustration. I didn’t even know if it was Pace's.

Despite that stupid bet, I’d had the cum of every man on that tour bus – with the exception of the driver – inside of me. Even Max wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibility as a potential father.

“Fuck my life,” I muttered at my reflection in the chrome-lined bathroom mirror.

I didn’t even know if I wanted to keep it.

“Get your shit together, Maya.” I pep-talked myself.

I had no idea how long I’d been in here, but I was pretty sure if I stayed much longer a search party would be mounted.

The guys had taken to staying on the bus, at populated rest stops, after the fifth or sixth time of being recognized and causing a stir. They were trending all over the internet lately and receiving a lot of attention from newfound fans, promoters, would be managers and record labels. Things were blowing up.

Luckily, no one bothered with me. Since I wasn't an actual member of the band, and not up on stage, my face was not splashed across the internet. I was still relatively anonymous. I was free to hop off the bus and wander the convenience store aisles at will, grabbing whatever The Infidels desired: Slim Jims for Connor, Cool Ranch Doritos for Foster, licorice whips for Rex, some fancy root vegetable chips for Lee, and oatmeal cream pies for Pace -big surprise there. And, of course, my pregnancy test.

The tour bus had a giant gas tank that took some time to fill. Even so, I had surely overstayed my welcome in this bathroom. I hastily wrapped the evidence in toilet paper and buried it in the bottom of the trash, rewashed my hands and gathered up the rest of my gas station loot.

It was high time I got myself under control. I was nowhere near ready to share my news with the rest of my bus mates yet – if ever. If I was going to try to hide my turmoil from them, until I had time to process this major turn of events and make decisions, I needed to pretend to be my normal self.

Hah! I mocked myself. If only thinking about doing something was the same thing as actually pulling it off...