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I went to the bathroom to grab a quick shower. I needed to resolve this sofa situation to give my mother a grandchild, preferably more than one. This is what good Sicilian children did. Obey their parents to the letter.
I came out of the shower and sauntered over to her. She must have sensed the sexual tension in the air. If she would have just opened her eyes, she could have seen my dick, stroked it perhaps, taken it in her sweet lips. Jesus! Just the thought alone had all my blood pumping in one direction.
“I know you’re not sleeping,” I muttered.
She curled up even tighter into a ball and squinted her eyes shut.
I chuckled, running my hand over her cheeks. “How about a peck?” I didn’t really expect one, but it was disappointing that she didn’t even take a peek.
Frowning, I walked over to my bed. I had really thought after the restroom incident, she would come crawling to my bed. But I needed to pull out all my tricks to get my wife into mine. Like a fucking teenager.
Roberto may have been right. I’d had it easy with all these women falling for me like flies. What was the point when the siren on my sofa didn’t even shoot me a glance? A wave of obscene jealousy swept over me. She lay all curled up on the sofa, her full boobs resting on it.
She had to choose. It was me or the sofa. Obviously, the sofa would have to go.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
DIVYA
Cora jammed her pudgy fist into her mouth, trying to gobble it down and spilling out drool in between. She wiggled her Pamper-clad buttocks on the holdup chair while trying to follow me with her twinkling eyes.
I smiled down at her while pacing the floor, the phone stuck next to my ear. Happiness was far away. I felt annoyed with myself for allowing frustration to rule me.
“Come on, baby, how long are you going to do this to me?” Adam whined on the other end, like a fork scraping on an empty plate, making me cringe.
“I am not doing anything to you.”
“You are, baby. You are punishing me for my mistakes. How many times do I have to tell you I am sorry?”
“Fine. I forgive you. Happy now?”
“Of course. I want you to come home. If you tell me where you are, I can—”
“Goddammit Adam!” I exploded. “How many times do I have to tell you? I am not coming back. We. Are. Done.”
“No, we are not. I miss you, baby. You know I don’t gamble anymore. We can do this.”
The sun would have to stop rising for me to believe him. His voice alone on these continuous calls riled my nerves.
“We are not doing anything. Ever.”
“What do you want? You want to get married? Let’s get married.”
“I can’t marry you, Adam. I am already married.”
Wait. What?
Shit! That had not been my plan. Was I supposed to tell people? But this could help me out now.
“I got married a few days ago.”
“To whom?” I didn’t need to see him to hear his suspicion run through the line.
“A very jealous man.”
A burst of laughter greeted me. “Oh baby, are you making up an imaginary husband?”
I bristled, thorns sticking out of my skin. I wished for once he was in front of me so I could jam my fist in his face.
