AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I pull off the paper and carefully place it aside. Just need a little break, before I begin translating that into fabric. Meanwhile… I pick up a pencil and begin to draw again… Something different. Something unlike the designs I have created so far. Something softer, more fragile, smaller in size…
A Peter Pan collar, simple long sleeves, slight gathering at the waist, opening at the back so it’s easy to put on and pull off… I step back and glance at what I have drawn. It’s a bodysuit for a baby…a new born. Tears prick the backs of my eyes and I wipe them away. Shit, I am not even, like, fully pregnant—is that even a concept? I mean, I just found out I am pregnant, and already, the pregnancy hormones seem to be taking affect.
If Michael were here, he’d probably just wrap me in wool, scoop me up, place me on the bed, and order me not to move until the baby is born. I scowl at the drawing. Not likely.
I intend to work until my last week. I intend to continue to design and sew and ensure that all the orders I have taken are fulfilled with Karma originals. No bride who orders a dress from me is going to be empty-handed. No, siree. I only need to convince my husband of that.
Speaking of—I place my pencil on the table—there’s a much bigger discussion I need to broach with my husband. I wince. I’ve been putting it off for so long, and now, I really need to tell him. And if I don’t…
No.I shake my head. I can’t do this to him. It’s bad enough I haven’t brought it up with him so far. He deserves to know. It’s his right to know.
The sound of footsteps reaches me a second before the edgy scent of testosterone—musky, like leather with a hint of woodsmoke—envelops me. I draw in the fragrance of his aftershave, like fresh snow on earth. The cold rush of a winter’s wind, followed by the snap and crackle of a fireplace. The images flow over me, just before his arms wrap around me. Goosebumps pop on my skin and my core trembles. I turn around, tip up my chin, and meet those brilliant blue eyes. Warmth flares in their depths, silver flashes riddled with sparks of gold. The look he only wears when he is around me, as I have learned.
"Don," I murmur, "I wasn’t expecting you back until tomorrow."
"I missed you, Beauty," his dark voice flows over me, coils in my chest, sinks into my blood. A cascade of warmth flares out from my core to my extremities. My toes curl. I bite down on my lower lip and he lowers his gaze to my mouth. "I missed my wife." He tilts his head and replaces my teeth with his own. He tugs on my lip and my pussy clenches. Moisture beads my center and my stomach flip-flops. My pulse rate ratchets up. Sweat beads my forehead and I tear my mouth from his. I tip up my chin watch him watch me with a curious gaze.
"Everything all right, baby?" He frowns as he pushes the hair back from my face. He pauses with his palm on my forehead, "Your skin is clammy." The lines in his forehead deepen. He peers into my face, no doubt, taking in my sudden pallor. My stomach ties itself in knots, the wave of sickness pushing up against my breastbone, my throat. Turning, I race to the bathroom.
To find out what happen next read A Very Mafia Christmas HERE
Read an excerpt from Aurora and Christian's story
Aurora
"Open the door!" The banging on the main door reaches me. I stare at the coffee-table wedged against it. It’ll hold the door, surely, won’t it? I glance around the living room space, but can’t see any means of escaping. Not that I haven’t checked every inch of this house in the last few weeks that I have been held here as a prisoner. Every window is barred and the door to the terrace on the first floor is sealed tight. The only way in or out of this house is through the front door. The door on which the man who is trying to enter is currently leaning his weight.
Shit!" The double doors creaks as he puts his shoulder to it.
"Open the fucking door, Aurora, or else I’m gonna break it down."
"Who—" My voice cracks, and I clear my throat, "Who’s there?"
"You know who it is. Who else comes to this house, except me?" Christian’s voice lowers to a growl, "When I get through, I am going to teach you such a lesson, you are not going to be able to sit down for days."
"Oh?" My stomach trembles. "OH!" I blink as the full meaning of his words sinks in. My heart rate ratchets up and moisture laces my core. I should not find that so hot. Why do I find that such a turn on?
"How can I be sure who it is, if you don’t tell me who you are? Not like I can recognize your voice or anything, you know."
"Is that right?" His tone is almost lazy now.
Like he’s realized I am playing a game and has decided to go along with it. My belly twists. I rub my damp hands on my thighs. Why the hell did I decide to stop him from coming in? I should have known it was going to be futile, that nothing I say or do would deter him.
The door creaks again, pushes against the coffee table, which moves forward by an inch.
"Oh, hell!" I race toward the coffee table, push against it to hold it in place. Something slams into the door from the other side, and again. The double doors shudder, the bolt across the door shivers, and the coffee table moves forward by another inch. I yelp, take a step back.
"Don't fucking make me wait, Aurora," Christian growls.
I shiver. Even through the heavy wood of the double doors, the menace rolls off of his voice. Goosebumps pop on my skin. My toes curl. Shit, this should not turn me on so much.
That…that mean edge to his tone, the promise of punishment when he finally gets through... I shouldn’t want it so much.
"Last chance, Aurora. Open the door or—"
"Or," I call out, "what are you going to do, eh?"
"Do you really want to find out?" He lowers his voice to a hush, but I can still hear him. "Do you, Aurora?"
