Home > Fashionably Dead in Diapers (Hot Damned #4)

Fashionably Dead in Diapers (Hot Damned #4)
Author: Robyn Peterman

Chapter 1

Once upon a time there was a little boy. He was like no other. His power knew no bounds and he was destined for greatness. However, he had to get through teething and diapers first.

“Ethan, come here. He looks wasted.”

I sighed with joy as I caressed the beautiful baby at my breast. He looked up at me with lazy eyes and a milk-drunk grin. My heart clenched. His little fangs peeked through his full pink lips and I was relieved he knew better than to chomp down on my boob—those fangs were sharp little suckers. My baby was freakin’ brilliant and he was mine. I pinched myself constantly to make sure this was all real.

“I love you so much it hurts,” I whispered as I buried my face in the wisps of curly blond hair on his head. Samuel had grown much faster than a regular child. It was as alarming as it was fascinating. At the rate he was going, he’d be a toddler in a month.

Our bedroom suite at the Cressida House had been turned into a massive nursery—complete with a crib, mobiles, playpens and more stuffed animals than I knew existed. There was also a large pile of nylon dog bones. It was the only thing that he could chew and not destroy in thirty-three seconds—it took him at least a half hour. I felt a little unsettled about giving my child canine toys, but I figured whatever worked was okay. It was better than him chewing on the furniture. The loss of two couches and a seven hundred year old priceless coffee table made me search out an alternative method for him to relieve the pain of teething—hence the truckload of dog bones. However, whenever someone inquired about the neon green and purple toys, I lied and told them we'd gotten a pet Hell Hound for Samuel.

“He’s a smart boy,” Ethan said quietly as he took in the scene. “I’d stay at that breast for eternity if I could.”

“You’re a pig.” I grinned with delight at my mate as my insides tingled at the thought of him near my breast or any of my private parts. Having Sammy had put a bit of a crimp in our over-active sex life and I was ready for that to be rectified.

“Actually, I’m a Master Vampyre and a Prince, but pig will do for the moment.” He winked, which made me want to jump him, but the precious child in my arms put a stop to that.

I mumbled grumpily as I watched him walk away.

"Silly, silly—pretty lady, I hate fucking naps. Asswaffle, shit-monster, Jesus in booty shorts. Boobies, boobies, boobies."

"What did you just say?" I hissed at Ethan. My eyes narrowed and I put Samuel down on the bed.

"I'm fairly sure I just gave you permission to call me a pig. A rare first for me," Ethan said as he sauntered back in and tried to cop a feel.

Not happening.

"That is not what you said." I crossed my arms over my naked chest and gave him the stink eye. My temper had been short lately, most likely due to not getting laid…but calling me names was not working for me. "You called me an asswaffle shit-monster!" I snapped.

"I beg your pardon," Ethan said as he bit down on his lip to stifle his grin. "I most certainly did not."

"You most certainly did," I shot back as I yanked a tank top over my head. "Along with saying my Cousin Jesus wears booty shorts and then calling my knockers boobies—three times."

"Interesting," he commented as he plopped down on the bed and wrapped Samuel in his strong embrace. The baby cuddled up to his father and cooed as he grabbed a fistful of Ethan's hair and shoved a chubby thumb into his mouth.

If I wasn't so pissed I would have joined the two men I loved more than anything in the world, but I wasn't done yet.

"Did I say anything else?" he inquired casually.

"As if you didn't know." I rolled my eyes and got up in his perfectly gorgeous face. "You said you hate fucking naps…Oh shitballs," I shrieked and slapped my hands over my mouth. "Impossible. No fucking way."

We both stared at Samuel. Ethan was thoroughly amused and I was horrified. My perfect little three month old son glanced up and winked. If I could have hurled I would have. However, Vampyres can't puke.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod, I am an unfit mother," I shouted as I paced the room frantically. "I give my son dog bones and he already curses like a fucking sailor. Vampyre- Demon social services will take him away. We have to get out of town and you have to watch your language around him. Do we have duct tape?" I demanded.

"I'm sure we can find some," Ethan said as he watched me race around the room like a lunatic.

"That's good. I need to strap my mouth shut for about a year and then everything will work out fine. Samuel," I said sternly. "You just said some really shitty words. We do not fucking speak like that in this house. Do you understand Mommy?"

Samuel giggled hysterically and flipped me off.

"Sweet Baby Jesus in a thong," I screeched. "Where did he learn that?"

"Gamma Gigi," a sweet voice bounced through my head. Ethan sat up with a look of utter shock on his face.

"Did you hear that?" I demanded as he stared at his son.

"I did," he said reverently. "Amazing."

"It's not amazing. It's bad. Very bad. He's three months old. He's the size of a nine month old according to those dumb-ass human baby books and he can flip the bird. What is amazing about that?"

Sparks began to fly from my fingertips and my hair began to float around my head. This was so not happening.

"This is a fine excuse to forbid your grandmother from coming to visit him anymore," Ethan volunteered logically.

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