Page 5 of Bred By the Minotaur (DreamTogether Breeding Program #3)

Five

Phoebe

Hank Pittsfield.

It would be so incredibly easy to get online and look him up. I’m sure there are dozens of people in the world named Hank Pittsfield , potentially quite a few minotaurs, but I’m certain that I’d know him if I saw him.

I don’t think he’s the type to smile much. No, he’s strong and sturdy and quiet, but commanding and dirty when he needs to be.

I wonder how old he is, and where he lives. What does Milo look like?

I feel like a limp noodle my whole drive home. Hank really fucked me into a puddle.

Hank . I wonder what it would be like to have sex with someone like that all the time. What if we had sex face-to-face? I’ve never done it outside DreamTogether with a monster, certainly not a minotaur.

Does he have a wet nose, like a dog? What would it be like to fuck someone covered in fur? Or is it hair on minotaurs?

This is what happens when you live mostly celibate. My sex life hasn’t been fabulous since I took this job, but it’s not like I have much spare emotional energy for dating or hookups.

The moment I think it, my phone rings in the passenger seat. I pick it up with the car phone.

“Feebs,” my sister says, “is today garbage day?”

I glance at the clock on the dashboard screen. “It’s Monday, garbage day is Tuesday.”

“Okay. That’s good. We didn’t miss it.”

My sister... is a worrier. When she first got sick, we weren’t sure whether it was nerves or illness. Now she has plenty of things to worry about, in addition to all the other things she was already worrying about before.

“I’ll take it out when I stop by later,” I tell her.

“Oooh! You have to dish everything about your appointment today. I want to know who the next baby daddy is.”

I assure her I will and hang up the phone.

That’s the reason I don’t date, for the most part.

When I’m not with Sandra, I’m working at my desk over my tablet, designing a beauty ad.

Not much time in between, especially when you’re pregnant a third of the time.

I haven’t tried pregnancy sex yet, but I’m not that interested.

When I get to Sandra’s place, I find the gnomes that sit out front have been rearranged again by the neighbor kids. When she feels well enough to get up and move around, she’ll move them back to where they were before—or maybe she’ll set them up in a parade this time.

Inside, everything is exactly where it should be, and my indoor slippers have been moved from the careless place I left them last time and back to the rack by the front door. Sandra’s on the couch, knitting needles in hand, when I come inside.

She attempts to jump off the couch, but she’s not quite strong enough and she has to sit back down immediately.

“I tried,” she says, turning off the television and setting her current project aside. I can’t tell if it’s a scarf, a sweater, or a blanket. “Now come on, tell me. Who was it this time?”

“The minotaur.” I’m still woozy from our session, and as I sit down, I don’t feel like I’ve quite returned to my own body yet. “ The minotaur.”

Sandra squints. “Wait, the first guy? Baby daddy numero uno?”

I nod, because I don’t have words for how confused I feel right now.

“Wow. He came back for a second go? He wants a whole other kid?” She leans forward to peek into my face because I’m still staring down at the floor. “You look bamboozled.”

“I think I’m bamboozled,” I answer, pushing some hair away from my face and sighing. “That was not what I expected today. At all.”

“You were sad about that guy for a long time.” Sandra puts an arm around my shoulders. “What was it like seeing him again? Or... whatever it is. Having his dick in you.”

I snort-laugh. “It was amazing.” I knew I’d never forget him the first time around, but after what he did to me today? “Incredible. Like, life-altering. And he said all this... stuff.”

I choke for a moment, thinking about what Hank whispered in my ear.

Sandra leans in. “Like what?”

“Like, about our, um... the first one. You know.”

Her eyes get huge. “Wait. He told you about the kid?”

“His name’s Milo,” I say, my voice already starting to shake. “H-he likes broccoli. What little kid likes broccoli?”

“A minotaur kid?”

“He said...” My voice shakes. “He said Milo is rambunctious. A-and... the minotaur, h-he... he gave me his name.”

Sandra’s been stroking my back this whole time but now stops.

“His real name?” she asks. “Isn’t that against the DreamTogether rules?”

I nod rapidly. “Very much so. He could lose his entire deposit and get banned from the program for good.”

“He wants you to find him,” Sandra says right away. “Obviously. He wants you to look him up on social media, or in the phone book, and call him.”

“I know.” It was obvious. Why else would he have given it to me if he didn’t want me to find him?

Sandra gives me a mystified look. “So? Why aren’t you on the computer right now?”

Now it’s my turn to peer at her like she’s turned into an alien. “Why? Because DreamTogether is anonymous. That’s the whole point!”

I don’t realize I’ve raised my voice until Sandra cringes.

“Sorry,” I say more quietly. “It’s just... if I did it, if I broke anonymity, I could get kicked out of the program forever, too.”

“So you’re not going to look him up?” She cocks her head like a curious bird. “Why? You obviously dig him.”

“I don’t know anything about him.” I make sure to keep my voice down even as I start to get riled up. “He’s a stranger. That’s why both of us did the program. He pays me to have his kid, and then he gets the kid back, and we never see each other again.”

“But—” Sandra begins.

“I can’t lose this job,” I say suddenly, taking her hands in mine so she can really understand. “I can’t. If DreamTogether found out, what then?” I gesture around us at my sister’s quaint house. “We don’t get to have this, Sandra, if I lose this job.”

She studies me, and it’s baffling to me that she’s not nearly as upset as I am.

“Is that really what you’re worried about? Because if he’s the one who broke confidentiality, he’s probably not going to tattle on you to DreamTogether. What if he just wants to ask you on a date?”

“That would be even worse! I can’t date the guy while trying to have his baby. Especially not a guy with a kid.”

“ Your kid,” Sandra points out, and I just want to strangle her.

“That’s the cherry on top,” I snap. “This isn’t some adorable meet-cute from a movie. That’s a real kid’s life. What if we go on a date, and he wants me to meet Milo? I’m his biological mom. And this entire time, we’re lying to DreamTogether?” My breath is coming fast just thinking about it.

Sandra gently clasps my shoulder. “Hey, Feebs. Breathe for a moment. None of that has happened yet.” She pulls me in close. “Come on. Let’s just check the guy out. Maybe you’ll see his picture and be turned off right away, and it won’t even be a problem.”

She slips her laptop off the coffee table and pops it open, heading to her social media, where she types in the name: “Hank Pittsfield.”

There are tons of results, as I expected. She filters them by state, then city. All the results vanish except two.

It’s obvious which one is my Hank Pittsfield. One of them is a human man in sunglasses, taking a selfie in a car. The other is... well, a minotaur.

A very jacked, very enormous minotaur. A minotaur that could lift a car. A minotaur that could probably throw me around like I was a child’s toy.

Thinking about that minotaur’s cock inside me today, my body is instantly electrified.

“Holy shit,” murmurs Sandra as we click on his picture to expand it. Both of us lean closer to the computer.

Hank is brown and white in a big splotchy pattern, with short-cropped hair that is adorably striped in the same manner as his fur. He has two rounded white horns that curl up and forward. In his profile picture, he’s shirtless and wearing orange pants, and he looks like he’s posing for something.

“Is he a fucking model ?” Sandra says, lurching back from the screen. She points at it, and then at me. “You are going on a date with this guy. You are sending him a message, right now, and inviting him to get Italian food.”

I can only gape at the picture.

This is worse than what I imagined. So, so much worse.

It would be astonishingly easy to fall in love with someone like that, who’s absolutely cut, who has the serious face I expected, who whispers dirty things in my ear along with sweet, loving things, and wraps his hand around mine on the breeding bench while he talks about our son.

“I can’t.” I shut the computer closed and stand up. Sandra gives me a startled look. “No. There’s a reason they do it this way. So there are no complications. And this promises to be very complicated.”

“But Feebs—” Sandra starts.

“I said ‘no.’” I head into the kitchen, hoping this will be the end of the conversation. There’s dinner to cook, then I have to go home to get some work done before bed. I’ve got a tight deadline to meet, and my appointment at DreamTogether has set me back some.

“That’s not fair,” calls my sister. “You can just leave the room and I can’t follow you!”

I don’t answer as I busy around making grilled cheese sandwiches.

Looking down this road... I can’t do it again. Once already I wished I could have something more with Hank—and then I never saw him again.

I can’t risk that heartbreak a second time.

No, Hank Pittsfield is not something I need in my life. I have enough on my plate as it is, and going on a date with a gorgeous minotaur who has a son at home is not on the menu. Even if I were to entertain the idea, it’s too risky with DreamTogether.

When I return with two sandwiches and set one in front of Sandra, she doesn’t speak.

Instead, she turns on the television again and we eat in silence while watching House Swap .

After I’ve taken the plates to the sink and put them in the dishwasher, I find Sandra waiting with her hands crossed on her lap.

“Phoebe,” she says, and I stop in my tracks at the use of my full name. “You’re an adult woman, and you deserve to have happiness. I’m thinking that maybe I should get a nurse to come over and?—”

“We can’t afford that,” I interject.

“Maybe I move out of here,” Sandra says. “What if I came to live with you so we didn’t have to pay for this place anymore? Then you wouldn’t have to deal with DreamTogether, and you could do what you want.”

I’m stunned into silence.

She’s right that we’d save a lot of money that way. But I also know we don’t do well when we live together. We went through years of it as teenagers, and we were always at each other’s throats. It’s not healthy for us.

“I don’t want anything to change,” I say at length. “I like it the way it is now. I don’t need a boyfriend, especially one who has a kid.”

My kid , my brain adds.

“All right,” Sandra says with a sigh. “I won’t push.” Her expression is sad, though. “But I hope you’ll keep your heart open, Feebs.”

I turn to her and put my arms around her. “My heart has everything it needs.”

She just hugs me back, not saying a word.