“Four months?” I asked. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t know. I didn’t get morning sickness. But last week at work the smell of chicken cooking made me…” She swallowed. “It was bad. Then I realized I hadn’t had my period in… a while. Adona bought me a couple of tests, and here we are.”
I shook my head, unable to make sense of it. Although I shouldn’t be surprised, since we didn’t always use protection, I still was. She was having a baby. My baby. I was going to be a dad. The thought filled me with immeasurable pride and fear. “I don’t know what to say.”
She looked stricken. “I… I don’t expect anything from you. I know your work is complicated and you can’t… promise me tomorrow. I get that.” She wrapped her hands protectively around her stomach. “But… I… I heard his heartbeat, and I can’t abort him. I can do this. I know it’s going to be difficult, but I can—”
“It’s a boy?” I asked.
“They can’t tell yet. But I’ve been reading a bunch of books and they say morning sickness is worse with girls and since I didn’t have any… it’s just a guess. A hunch.”
She was rambling, and I could barely string three words together. Annetta was pregnant with my child. I wanted to shout it from the rooftops, but also hide it from the world. If my father or Don Pelino found out…
“Shit,” I said, standing.
Her face whipped around like I’d slapped her. “I’m not asking for anything from you, Dom. You don’t need to get angry, I’m only telling you because I thought… because I…”
She didn’t understand. I closed the distance between us and wrapped her in my arms. “It’s not that, Net. I need some time to process. I want to be involved, and I want to be with you, but I need to figure some things out.”
She nodded against my shoulder. “Yes. I know this is a lot to lay on you. I’m sorry.”
“Stop.” She still didn’t get it. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’re having my fuckin’ baby.” I couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across my face. Despite all the challenges I knew we’d face, I was happy. Beyond happy.
She giggled, looking up at me through lashes still wet with tears. “You’re not mad?”
“No. I love you, Net. We’ll figure this out.”
She released a breath, her shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.”
Knowing she needed me as much as I needed her right then, I pulled her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra. Her breasts were bigger, fuller. I palmed them, noting how different they felt in my hands.
“They grew,” she said, blushing.
“They’re still perfect.”
Next, I undid her shorts and slid them down, removing her panties at the same time. Her breath caught as my fingers stroked her clit. She threw back her head and let me play with her until I tugged her forward to join me on the bed.
“I don’t know how much time we have,” Annetta said, glancing at the clock on her dresser. “Papa should be home soon.”
It didn’t matter. She needed this. We both did. I laid her on her back and slid my pants down to my ankles, keeping the rest of my clothes on. I sucked on her clit until she was swollen and ready for me, and then I moved up her body until I got to her lips.
“I’m glad you’re having my baby,” I said. My hands lingered on her belly, feeling the little bump that was our child. “I love you, and I’ll love him. We got this. I promise.”
Trust and admiration shone in her eyes as she replied, “I love you so much.”
I buried my shaft inside her. Annetta squeezed her pussy around me and I picked up my pace. I fucked her until we got the release we both desperately needed.
Afterwards, I wrapped my arms around her stomach and held them both, wondering how I was gonna make good on my promise.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Annetta
THE MORNING AFTER I told Dominico about the baby, I was getting ready for work when someone knocked on the door. Papa had long since headed off to his own job, so I answered to find a beautiful woman—approximately Papa’s age—standing on my doorstep. Her dress managed to look both casual and expensive, probably out of some designer’s collection. Big dark curls with strands of silver framed her face, her cheekbones were high, her lips were red and plump, and intelligence shone in her dark eyes.
She studied me from head to toe before saying, “You must be Annetta. You’re even more lovely than he described.”
He? He who? While my brain was still forming questions, my manners kicked in. “Thank you. I—”
