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The night of the masquerade ball, I saw the back of the man who rocked my world and then changed it. He had a massive tattoo of a panther on his back, with claw marks underneath. Well, what do you think I saw on Samuel’s back last night? The exact same tattoo. To say the air was knocked from my lungs is an understatement.

Now, here I am, laying, looking up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how the hell my life became so complicated. I mean, I am so not the girl who sleeps with a stranger, gets pregnant, sleeps with her boss and finds out the boss is the stranger. Except I am. I mean, it hit in the middle of the night when his hand was resting on my bare stomach, where he fell asleep rubbing it like he has been doing since the moment he moved me here, that this is his baby. I am pregnant by my boss. The man who has made me fall in love with him. But how do I tell him? Better yet, I keep asking myself how I didn’t pick up on the voice. I remember thinking he sounded familiar, but then he kissed me, and the alcohol and the one glass of wine got to me, and I stopped thinking. Well, now look where I am.

“Are you going to get out of bed, baby?” He walks into the room, all godlike, smiling like the cat that got the cream. My mouth immediately waters, led by my traitorous body that no longer knows how to survive without feeling his weight against me and his arms around me, and his cock inside of me. Leaning down, his mouth moves on top of mine, and everything I was just thinking floats away. Our tongues tangle, saliva moving between us. His hand slides under the sheet, warm and on a mission right to the core of me.

“Sam!” I mewl, ripping my mouth from his. “Please.” I spread my legs wide and welcome his adept fingers into my wet pussy.

“Jesus, precious. You are always so ready for me.” He hooks his fingers in a sweeping motion, and my eyes begin to blur. My body is preparing to release when he pulls his fingers from inside me and licks them. My mouth opens in shock, not sure what to say. “I want nothing more than to make you come, baby. But, as soon as I do, you are going to be asleep again, and you need to eat. The baby needs to eat. Now let’s go.” He swats my ass before handing me his shirt from last night to put on. It is getting harder and harder to tell him.

Walking down the stairs, I am trying to think of a way in. Some way to bring it up, but it all seems wrong and unbelievable. “What’s for breakfast?” I ask him trying to sound interested when really my mind is thinking only of the baby we made without knowing it.

“Is that really what is on your mind, precious?” My eyes snap to his, wondering if he can really see it in my eyes. “Scarlett?” I don’t want to look at him, so I change the subject.

“Do we have any more of the french toast your aunt dropped off yesterday?” He chuckles before walking over to the fridge and placing them in the toaster oven. I am so lost in my head; I miss him walking over to me. His hands spin the stool around, and I am suddenly facing him. His finger lifts my chin, and I look at him, tears rolling down my face, terrified of what he is going to think when I tell him, but I know this can’t continue any longer.

“Baby, your tears are leaking poison into my veins. I never wanted to see tears in your eyes. Talk to me,” he pleads, wiping each tear as it falls. This is going to kill me. I know it. But I have to be honest. Holding it in is killing me more. My hand goes to my stomach as I say a silent apology to my baby. Praying his father still wants us when I tell him the truth. Here goes nothing.



“Baby, your tears are leaking poison into my veins. I never wanted to see tears in your eyes. Talk to me,” I beg her. I am really freaking the fuck out here. “Is something wrong? With you or the baby. Say something. Anything.” I demand. I wipe away her tears just as fast as they fall from her bloodshot hazel eyes.

“I don’t know where to start,” she says, putting me instantly on alert, so much so that the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

“Let’s try the beginning,” I tell her, taking her hands in mine.

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