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“The kind that’ll take us away from Atlanta for a while,” I reply.
“A trip?” Claudia asks. “Like a weekend getaway?”
“No, like a real trip. To Jamaica. Or Mexico. Or heck, even Paris.”
“As long as it’s not Vegas,” Lishelle quips, reminding us all that our trip to Vegas, while fun, had had a dark side.
“Listen, my stomach’s grumbling,” Claudia announces. “Let’s get some food and continue this conversation.”
So we head to the buffet spread, and I make sure to satisfy my craving for hot pancakes smothered in butter and syrup. Hey, I’m eating for two.
Back at the table, I don’t want the subject of the trip to be forgotten. So after I’ve devoured a good portion of my pancakes, I say, “I’m serious about going away. What do you say, ladies? A week in the Caribbean? If we go to Mexico, maybe you two can find your own Miguel.”
Claudia, Lishelle and I have all been impressed with my sister’s boyfriend, Miguel, whom she met when we were in Costa Rica trying to find information on some of my late husband’s illegal activities. Miguel has been the dream boyfriend—romantic, attentive and incredibly hot. He was instantly smitten with Samera and has remained smitten—an impressive feat, judging by the guys in the past who haven’t been able to handle Samera’s hard edge long-term. I guess that edge is to be expected of a girl who was raised in a strict religious home, rejected a lifestyle she found to be hypocritical and ended up working as a stripper. These days, she’s back at school studying to become a paralegal.
“Okay, now I’m intrigued,” Claudia says. “I’d almost be willing to let my family disown me if I could find a man who adores me as much as Miguel adores Samera.”
“Lishelle?” I say. “Are you game?”
“When are you talking? In a couple of months? Because I’ve got work.”
“In a couple of months, no one’s going to let me get on a plane.” I raise an eyebrow. “Everyone at your station loves you, Lishelle. They always allow you flexibility. You’ve got some vacation time coming, don’t you? I’m sure you won’t have a problem getting a week off.”
When neither Lishelle nor Claudia speak, I say, “Come on. This may be our last trip together for a long, long time.” To emphasize my words, I rub my belly. “Seriously, we need to get away now. In a couple of months I won’t be able to get around much, and if I’m going to go anywhere, I want to enjoy it. It has to be now.”
“You’ve got a point … “ Lishelle agrees.
“I’m going—with or without you,” I threaten. “But what kind of trip would it be without my two best girls?”
And suddenly, I begin to tear up. Yes, part of it is hormones. I’ve become incredibly emotional since getting pregnant. But it hits me just how much my life is going to change.
“I’m not going to be able to take off for girlfriend trips for a long, long time,” I say. “If ever again. Even our Sunday brunches … I don’t know that I’ll be able to do that anymore.”
“Maybe not right away,” Claudia says, “but you’ll be bringing that baby out to meet us every week—even if we have to change the brunch spot to your place.”
I wipe at the tears that have fallen down my cheeks. “Ignore me. Pregnancy throws your emotions out of whack.”
And though I didn’t plan the tears, I’m glad they fell. Because I need my friends to say yes. I need them going on this trip with me.
If they don’t go, it’ll blow the surprise I’ve arranged. The kind of surprise that might lead to their own happily-ever-afters.
“You’re serious, aren’t you?” Claudia asks.
“Hell, yes, I’m serious.” I brush at more tears. “Clear your schedule for the first week of October. We’re going away.”
“That’s two weeks from now,” Lishelle says.
“Exactly.” It has to be then, because that’s when Jared and his brother are available. “Two weeks is plenty of time.”
“We don’t even know if there’ll be availability with such short notice,” Lishelle points out.
“There are plenty of resorts in the Caribbean. Mexico. There’ll be space somewhere.”
Lishelle scowls. “Wait—I think Terrence might have vacation then.”
“Make it happen,” I tell her. “I remember having to twist your arm to get you to go to Vegas, but you had an amazing time, didn’t you?”
“Hey … can’t a girl ask any questions?”
“You can ask questions, but you can’t say no,” I tell her. “Consider this the last hurrah, if you will.”
“I’m game,” Claudia says. “My schedule is painfully clear.”
“Maybe it won’t be, after Mexico.”
“Mexico?” Claudia asks.
“Why not? The Mayan Riviera is beautiful. I’ll go home and start checking on packages right away.”
I stare at Lishelle, waiting for confirmation from her. “All right, I’m in. I’ll ask for the time tomorrow.”
“And if they give you any problems, you have me call them,” I say. “No one wants to deal with an irate pregnant woman.” I narrow my eyes playfully. “That goes for both of you too.”
Claudia smirks. “Point taken. We’re going to Mexico!”
“Or else,” I add in a mock-threatening tone. And then, “Seriously, guys, we’re going to have an amazing time. The absolute best.”
“I’ve got a plan,” I say in a singsong voice as I enter the Pine Lake home I share with Dom. “I think I may have the perfect men for—” I stop abruptly as I round a corner into the family room and see Dominic’s mother sitting on the armchair near the window. “Oh.” I quickly quash my frown. “Hello.”
“Hello, Annelise.” Mama Deanna, as I call her, is sitting on the armchair and knitting something white. She eases herself up to kiss me on both cheeks, the way they do in the old country. “My darling, how are you? How’s the baby?”
Mama Deanna speaks with a fairly thick Italian accent, most of her words ending with an a sound. How’s came out as howsa. She’s short, about five feet two, and round.
“Where’s Dominic?” I ask.
“I sent him to get groceries. You no have no vegetables, no fruit.” She tsks. “You need this stuff now that you’re going to be a mother. Don’t worry—I’m going to help you take care of yourself and my grandchild.”
Mama Deanna pats my arm, as if to say that there’s nothing to worry about because she’s here.
I don’t bother to tell her that I was planning to come home and draft a grocery list. I’d rather not say anything that will draw any attention to my perceived flaws.
And speaking of flaws, I glance around, noting that the place seems considerably cleaner. So clean that the camera bag I had in the corner of the living room is no longer there. “Mama Deanna, have you seen my black camera bag?”
“Oh, yes. I put it in a box in the garage. The place was too messy.”
Turning, I roll my eyes. In the past, Dominic’s mother has come for a week at a time, and I hate to say it, but I have counted the days until she left. I like the woman, don’t get me wrong. It’s just … well, she can be overbearing. I always hear from her that I’m not feeding Dom well enough and a host of other offenses—including the big issue, that we’re living in sin.
I head to the garage, where not only do I find my camera bag in a cardboard box—dumped as if it is garbage—but I see a number of envelopes. All of the bills that Dom and I have to pay. At least I know where the stuff is, so I don’t bother to take it out of the garage. I have no doubts that if I do, Mama Deanna will see to it that she “tidies up” once more.
I go back into the house and into the kitchen, where I pour myself a tall glass of orange juice. “So, how long are you staying?”
“Until you have the baby.”
I almost spit out the mouthful of orange juice. “W-what?”
“You need me now,” Mama Deanna explains. “I’ve had four babies. I know just what to do.”
She’s staying for the next four months? Did Dom know about this? I head into the foyer, where I left my purse and retrieve my cell phone. I plan to call him and ask exactly that. But before I can, I hear the sound of the garage door opening.
I open the door leading into the garage. I’m standing there as Dom gets out of his Audi. He is grinning, but it falters. Probably when he notices the expression on my face.
“Annelise—”
“She’s moving in for four months?” I ask.
“We never had a conversation about her moving in for four months.”
“But she is moving in, isn’t she?”
“She said she wants to help out, yes. And I don’t think it’s a bad idea.”
I show him the box with our bills and my camera equipment. “This is her idea of cleaning up,” I point out. “If she keeps this up, we’ll never find anything.”
Dom opens the trunk and begins lifting out the groceries, which are packed in reusable tote bags. “She means well.”
“You should have talked to me. Run this by me.”
With two heavy bags in his hands, Dom closes the trunk and then walks toward me. When he reaches me, he leans forward to give me a kiss. “She showed up out of the blue.”
“You had no clue?”
“I was talking to her last week, and she said that she wanted to come and help out while you’re pregnant. I had no clue she was going to show up today. And it’s not like I could send her away.”
I sigh softly. “No. Of course not. But she told me she’s staying until I have the baby. I know she’s your mother, but—”
Dom cuts me off with a quick kiss on my lips. “It won’t be four months.”
“It might be. Now that your father is gone, there’s no reason for your mother to go back home.”
Dom kisses me again. “I don’t want you worrying about my mother.” And this time, his tongue slips into my mouth. The kiss is harder, and I can’t help moaning against Dominic’s lips.
He lowers one of the bags, slips his hand under my skirt and trails his fingers up my thigh to my thong. He strokes my clit through the lacy fabric, moaning as he does.
Just as my body begins to feel aroused, I break the kiss and step backward, then swat him playfully. “And that’s the other thing—with your mother around, we won’t have any privacy. And you know how much we like our privacy.”
“That’s why we have to sneak in time where we can get it. Mmm … you’re already wet. I love how horny you are now that you’re pregnant.”
He gives me a long, heated look, and I know he’s considering screwing me right here in the garage.
The idea actually turns me on.
“No,” I say, shaking my head.
“No?” He raises an eyebrow.
“No!” My voice is an urgent whisper. And when Dom lowers the second grocery bag, I add, “Your mother is on the other side of that door!”
“She won’t come out here.”
“You’re crazy.”
Dom smiles. “Crazy for you.”
He advances, snakes a hand around my wrist. His other hand goes back beneath my skirt, and within seconds, is teasing my pussy.
“Why, Dom?” I ask, but the question comes out as a breathy moan, one that only encourages him.
“Because you’re fucking hot,” he whispers into my ear as a finger slips inside my pussy.
“Good Lord … “ I grip his shoulders.
He slips another digit inside me, pleasing me with hard, fast strokes. Suddenly, I don’t care if Dom’s mother opens the door and enters the garage. I want Dom right now.
“Here?” I manage to say weakly. “Or … the car …?”
“Is the SUV unlocked?” Dom asks as he kisses my neck.
“Yes … “ He pushes a third finger inside me. “Oh, yes … “
After torturing me for a few more seconds, Dom pulls his hand from my pussy and steps back. His grin is victorious. “Come on.”
I shoot a glance at the garage door as he takes my hand and leads me to the Cadillac Escalade. Thankfully, it has dark-tinted windows, so if Mama Deanna decides to come into the garage, she won’t be able to see anything.
As I start to climb into the backseat, Dom pushes my skirt up around my waist. Makes sense … less time maneuvering in the backseat.
He playfully swats my ass, and then he gets in next to me. Instantly, his hands go to my shirt, yanking the cotton fabric upward until it is over my breasts. He wastes no time lowering his head to one breast, gently biting my nipple through the lace.
“Damn you, Dom,” I say—a weak protest that he has me in this compromising position when his mother is all too close by.
“Maybe you’ll like this better.” He pushes the lace out of the way and draws my hardened nipple into his mouth.
I grip his head and try to keep the cry of ecstasy locked in my throat. My breasts are far more sensitive now that I’m pregnant, and sucking on my nipples is a sure way to turn me on.
His tongue flicks up and down over my nipple, driving me crazy. And then he grazes it with his teeth before suckling me with fervor.
I’m wet. My pussy is throbbing. I need to have him inside me.
“Fuck me, baby,” I beg. “Now!”
