27. Damon

When the doctor first announced that she was pregnant, I felt like someone had kicked me in the nuts. Not that it would've changed how I feel about her, but I'll be honest, I'm not sure how I would've felt had the child been her ex-husband's only for the fact that it would give him an excuse to hang around.

But once she made it clear that she wasn't that far along, her estimation being around the eight-week mark, my knees almost gave out. I knew in my gut that it was mine, but I wanted her to wake up and tell me herself.

Her kids are still in a state of shock, I think, and I should probably go get them from the other room, but I wanted to spend some time with her alone to absorb this. Honestly, I thought that the kids she already had would be it for me, that I'd have to wait for their kids to play grandpa, but never in a million years did I think she would get pregnant.

She was so sure that she couldn't get with child that we never used protection. Had she been anyone else, I'd think she'd trapped me, but she's not that kind of girl, and I know it.

"Damon, what's going on? Why is your heart beating like that?"

"You're pregnant." She pulled back to look at me and broke into uncontrollable laughter.

"Good one; what's wrong with me for real?"

"Jo, you're pregnant with my baby."

"I…you, what?" One thing I didn't think about was her reaction, which I probably should have. Fuck that; if she tells me she's mad about having my child after having kids for another man, I think I would lose my shit.

But then her hand went to her tummy, and she got this dreamy look on her face. "Are you sure?" She whispered the words in disbelief.

"That's what the doctor says. I'll call the kids in now and let the doctor know you're awake."

I didn't want to leave her, but I knew her kids were worried, and besides, I had a shit ton of questions for the doctor. "You're certain? You're not playing with me? This isn't a prank?" I covered the hand she held over her tummy, and my dick got hard.

Weird fucking response, but she's even lovelier now than before. She looked up at me, and my head just gravitated to hers and our lips came together in a light kiss that deepened until I had to pull away. I'm pretty sure if her kids weren't in the other room, I'd be inside her already, hospital or not.

I told the kids that she was awake and went in search of the doctor because I had a lot of questions that I needed answers to. While she slept I'd looked up some things on the Internet and learned that it's not as uncommon as I thought for this to happen, so that put my mind at ease a little bit.

But I wanted to know what I should be doing for her and the baby at this point to make sure that they were both safe. After my talk with her, I wasn't too sure that she knew what the hell she was talking about.

Now, hear me out. I'm not doubting this woman's credentials, but what the fuck does she mean it's too early to tell? How hard is it to tell me what the fuck to feed my woman and child so that they're healthy?

Or how much rest she should be getting, etc.? I nodded along to her bullshit, but my mind was already made up. I know, as a woman, she'd want to be the one to tell her friends and family, but as soon as that was out of the way, I'm calling a meeting.

For now, though, in the meantime, I have to take point. She had already fainted twice, and I'm still terrified by the thought of what might've happened had she been alone when that shit happened.

* * *

JOLENE

* * *

I knewthere was going to be trouble from the moment this man convinced the doctor that I should stay overnight in the hospital. No amount of telling him that I was feeling fine worked. When I tried to get out of bed to show him, he damn near brought the building down.

I could see by the looks on my kid's faces that they were surprised by the fact that I gave in to his demands, but not only that, they were trying hard not to laugh at the way he was panicking and freaking out over a little thing.

"But I don't wanna stay here; I want to go home to my own bed."

"Mom, just stay put for him and us; it'll put our minds at ease." I knew my daughter was lying to me by the way her lips were twitching and that it was all for the overgrown baboon who was lurking over me with a death scowl on his face. I have no idea what the hell had gotten into him.

I thought he was going to start trouble when the nurse came in and said some of them had to leave. He completely ignored her and asked the kids if they wanted to stay. They'd had enough for one day, thank heavens, and opted to leave and come back the next day and he had offered for them to stay at his place since the hospital they'd brought me to was closer.

"I'm not leaving." He told the nurse, who laughed and assured him that it was okay, which I was glad for, or who knows what he would've done had she said he couldn't stay.

Once the others had gone, he dimmed the lights in the room, if you could call it that. It's been a while since I've stayed in a hospital overnight, but I don't recall the rooms looking like luxury suites in a hotel.

The thing was huge, and the bed was a lot bigger than I remembered, with a lot more bells and whistles. "What room is this? It doesn't look like a hospital room." I know my insurance isn't paying for this.

As if he'd read my thoughts, Damon, who had his one arm wrapped around me while the other caressed my tummy gently, kissed my hair for the tenth time in as many minutes that started down the nutty vine.

"Whose insurance are you on?" I wasn't thinking when I answered and gave way too much information. "Since Kevin owns his business, I got it worked out in the divorce so I could stay on his insurance." I felt his tense up behind me.

"That's not gonna work?"

"What? Why? It's really good insurance."

"Because your ex's insurance isn't paying for my kid. And while we're at it, he's not having another man's name, so you decide now: where do you want to get married in the next five months?"

I tried to turn around to look at him, but he wouldn't let me move out of his arms.

"No, you stay where you are. You think you're gonna look at me with those big doe eyes of yours and get me to change my mind? That's not happening, not this time. Now stay still and listen."

"First thing first, we're getting married before the kid gets here. You've already had the big wedding, I didn't so we're going that route. You're pregnant, so it would be too much stress for you to handle something that big in such little time, so we'll hire a coordinator."

"Do I even get a say?"

"No. You'll also have to decide what you want to do with your house. I can hire a service to pack up the things you want, like clothes and shit like that, but my house is fully furnished, so leave all that shit at the house."

"My house?"

"Yes, my place is bigger and in a better-suited area to raise kids. Plus, I'm not living in his house. We have to find you a doctor closer to my place."

"What's wrong with my doctor? It's only like an hour away."

"Yes, and it's a he."

"Aren't most doctors?"

"I wouldn't know, but how would you feel if I let some other woman fondle my balls a few times a year?"

"You have got to be kidding me."

"Not even a little bit."

* * *

I knewit was too good to be true, that it was too perfect, that he was too perfect. The first sign that he had gone full-blown nutjob was the pillows in the back of the car when he took me home the next day. Not just the part that he had them delivered by his driver, but the fact he dropped the backseat into a bed so I could lie down with those pillows stuffed in around me, both in front and back.

When we got back to his house, which I had no say in whether I wanted to go there or not, I was first carted around like a sack of potatoes because apparently I no longer had the brain cells needed to remind me how to put one foot in front of the other.

Once inside, I learned that he had switched his master suite from upstairs to the one downstairs. Apparently, it's too risky for me to go up and down the marble stairs when he's not there.

"Why are you treating me like an old woman?"

"I'm not. I'm treating you like my fiancée who is carrying my baby and will be a few hours away from me when I'm at work." Oh, good Lord, how many pillows are on that bed?

"Women do this every day, you know. In fact, I've done it four times already."

His answer to that was to hold my face and kiss me into silence before placing me on the bed between a mountain of pillows.

I got over my annoyance when he pushed the skirt of my dress up to my navel and rubbed his nose on my tummy in circles. He's so cute. I knew what he was up to when he kissed my cooch through my underwear before peeling them down my thighs.

That sweet feeling grew between my thighs and deep in my belly as he licked me from slit to clit. Pregnancy always makes me extra horny, but this felt different. There was a kind of excitement that I never felt before and I realized that I was looking forward to doing this with him.

Last night and this morning, I had my moments of doubt and worry, not only because of my age but also because our relationship was so new. I thought only teenagers got caught out there like this, but here I was, a woman who thought she was beginning the last stage of her reproductive life, and I'm carrying his child.

Now I was in the throes of passion as he forced his tongue past the lips of my cooch and into me, and the feelings intensified. I moved beneath his tongue, trying to get closer while simultaneously trying to escape the pleasurable torture of his lovemaking.

I felt him fighting with his zipper, felt the bed move as he pushed his pants down and off, and something inside me quickened. I could already feel the sensation of having his big cock slide into me.

He made sure I came with his tongue before sliding up my body and easing into me. We both sighed into each other's mouths as he buried himself to the hilt in me. "I was dying to do this all night." He said this as he buried his face in my neck.

His movements were deep and slow, not the frenzied thrusting I'm accustomed to. The thrusts that say louder than words that he can't get enough of me. But these slow, deep, thorough strokes said something else. They were almost reverent, as if I was the most precious thing, and I felt tears gather in my eyes.