by Andromeda
"That looks delicious," I blurt out.
The woman looks at me and I flush with embarrassment. However, she smiles at me, not taking offense. "It tastes even better than it looks," she says with a Caribbean accent.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Jerk chicken, fried plantains, and fried rice. I can have them make a plate for you if you want," she says.
"Sí por favor," I say, and then blush. "Forgive me, I sometimes forget myself."
She waves it away and hands me the plate before getting another one. "It's ok and trust me, I understand. We both are eating for more than ourselves."
Looking down, I see that she too is pregnant but a lot bigger than me. "Yeah, we are."
"Where are you from?" she asks.
"Miami. You?"
"Kingston."
"Ohhh, Jamaica?" I say with wide eyes. "That's very nice. I've always wanted to go there one day."
"Well, maybe I can take you there one day," she says with a chuckle. "Oh, I'm Malaika, by the way."
"Rosalinda. But you can call me Rose."
"Nice to meet you, Rose. So tell me, which one is yours?" she asks, gesturing to the different men milling about.
"That one," I answer, pointing to Alphonse, who is talking to a large Italian-looking man.
"Oh, Alphonse François," she says nodding. "He's big in fashion, isn't he?"
"It's how we met," I say as we take a seat.
"He liked chocolate too, huh?" she teases.
"You could say that," I reply, absentmindedly rubbing my belly.
She frowns slightly, "Is he happy?"
"A little..."
"Rose...?"
"We didn't exactly meet up...normally."
"How did you meet? If you don't mind me asking."
"No, I don't mind..."
I tell her my story; for some reason, I trust her and I don't leave anything out. When I'm done, I sigh heavily, picking at my food. “I mean…Alphonse says that he wants all us, the child and myself but…I don’t know I still kind of feel he’s a bit cold towards us…He’s trying I know it, but…”
Slowly, she reaches over and gently grasps my hand, smiling. “I know that he loves you,” she says.
“How can you really tell?” I ask.
“He’s been glancing over here every five minautes to look at you,” Malaika chuckles. “You have him wrapped around your finger. Think on this: who runs the world?”
"Girls," I laugh softly. “And wait...I thought the president was the ruler of this nation."
"That's what they want you to think," Malaika teases. "Now come here and I'll let you feel three strong kicks. I swear, these kids will be soccer players."
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Later that night, in my room with Alphonse, I look up from my maternity magazine as he walks into the room from the shower. I have to bite my lip as I watch the small droplets of water slowly slide down his body.
How I wish that was my tongue...Damn it, Rose; stop being so thirsty.
"Alphonse?" I say aloud.
"Yes?" he says, looking up.
"I've been thinking and...we can't let Lukas go back to your ex."
"Oh?"
"Yes," I say, nodding "She hurts and abuses him and...I want him to live with me."
"Live with you?" he asks.
"Yes," I say nodding. "I am going to try to get custody of him."
He looks at me with surprise and then bursts out laughing. "There is no way that's happening."
"Why not?" I asked, a bit peeved at him for laughing at me.
"Because you have no legitimate claim on him," he says. "You aren't his aunt, sister, cousin, or anything. You're just some random person to the courts and if you try to get custody of him like this, they will just laugh in your face."
My spirits fall and I hang my head in sadness. He is right...
"However..." he continues. "If someone who does have a claim on him, say the father, wants to pursue sole custody of his son, then...they will have to look into it.”
I look up at him in surprise. "What are you saying?"
Cupping my chin with his hand, he pulls me close and presses his lips to mine. "I am saying...that I have finally figured out what I want in life: I want you. All of you. You, Lukas, Isabel, Antonio, and the child within you. I want everything about you; your hopes and dreams, your fears. I love you, from the top of your head to your perfectly manicured toes. I love you, and please...let me show you how much I do."
Within moments, my clothes are off and I’m moaning softly as he enters me slowly, a deep groan rumbling in his chest as he holds me close.
"Bon sang, vous êtes tellement serré..." he whispers softly, praising me on how tight I feel.
Gripping the pillows tightly, he begins to move his hips, giving long deep strokes that make my toes curl as passionate moans roll off my tongue. My nails lightly dig into his shoulders, my hips raising to meet his thrusts.
He pants softly and bends down, gently peppering butterfly kisses on my cheeks, neck, and shoulders, but careful to keep the weight off of my belly. Withdrawing almost all the way to the tip, he thrusts in sharply, pushing in deep. A soft groan rumbles in my throat, our fingers intertwining.
He smiles down at me, his muscular thighs sliding through my smaller ones. With a wink, he withdraws, making me whimper softly in disappointment as he chuckles. His body slides up behind mine, pressing his front to my back. Kissing my neck gently, his hand moves down to my thighs, spreading them. A tickle of pleasure shoots through my body as his fingers slowly caress my lower lips and I moan deeply.
"Soyez à l'aise mon amour..." he whispers softly. "Je vais vous faire sentir si bon mon amour..."
I have almost no idea what he is saying, but know that ‘amour’ means love; he’s calling me his love. Gasping softly, I grip his arm as he pushes into me, my head tilting back. He begins slowly, pushing deeply before he begins to pound into me. I pant softly, my nails digging into the sheets as he grips my breast, rolling a nipple between his thick fingers. My moans melt into soft cries of pleasure, his warm tongue licking and sucking on my neck. A tightness forms in the pit of my gut and I know what that means.
"A...Alphonse," I pant. "I...I have to..."
"I know," he whispers, grunting as he slams into me. "Do it...don't hold back."
He lets go of my breast and slides down, gently pitching my sacred pearl and beginning to rub furiously. That's my breaking point.
The dam that I had been holding back burst and I cry out as I climax, the shattering feeling erupting through my very being. He unleashes an animalistic roar as he reaches his own climax and then falls at my side. Both of us lay there, panting heavily, bodies covered in sweat, limbs tangled together.
"W...wow..." I pant. "T...that was amazing."
"You felt amazing," he says as she slowly withdraws.
"As did you," I whisper softly, rolling over to look into his eyes. "Do you mean it, Alphonse? You want all of us—Lukas, my children and I?"
"I meant every word of it," he says firmly. "I give you my word. As a matter of fact, why don't they move in with us?"
My breath catches with delight. "Do mean that?"
"Of course," he says nodding. "When we get back, we can tell them the good news and then they can move in with us. They already love Lukas; they can all go to school together."
"Alphonse, they would love that."
"And I know you would love that," he whispers, kissing my nose and pulling me close.
Chapter Eighteen
"Isabel, hija, will you stop running so fast? You know I can't catch you!” Rosalinda calls out.
Alphonse smiles as Rosalinda runs after her daughter; well, more like trying to. Her six-and-a-half-month belly is weighing her down and she stops to catch her breath.
"Isabel," he says, walking over to them. "Do you mind getting your mother some water? I'm sure she could use it."
"More like a lemonade," Rosalinda huffs as she stands up
.
"You know you don't need all that sugar," he says, taking her hand and kissing it gently.
"And people call me a health nut," she says with a roll of her eyes. "Alphonse, I'm fine with having a lemonade every now and then."
"Well, the baby is going to be getting all that sugar," he says. "And you know gestational diabetes is a real and dangerous thing..."
"Fine then, Papi. I won't have anything tasty," she says with a poke of her lips.
Chuckling, Alphonse pulls her close, whispering in her ear. "You know I only like you to call me Papi in the bedroom. Say it again out loud and I'll bend you over a table and..."
Rosalinda flushes red and pulls away, playfully swatting at me. "You nasty! There are children here?"
Alphonse shrugs. "They can go into their room and turn up the music."
She laughs and pulls away from you. "You are something else, you know that?"
He grins. "Well, I don't hear you complaining at night."
"Oh my goodness, Alphonse; if you say one more crude thing about our sex life..." she warns.
Laughing, he holds up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, you began this, not me."
"Did not,” she says.
"Did too,” he says.
"Did not,” she says.
"Did too!” he says.
"Did not!" she says.
"Did too!" he chuckles.
By this time, the children are watching the adults, their heads swiveling back and forth as though this is some kind of ping pong match or something. When Alphonse notices this, he stops this petty argument and turns to them.
"Hey, Lukas," he says, kneeling down. "Why don't you go and show Isabel and Antonino to their new rooms?"
Lukas nods eagerly and takes their hands, leading them up the stairs. Just this morning, the two children arrived by private jet and greeted their mother with tears of joy. Rosalinda showed Alphonse exactly how happy she was for this the other night...
"I have to go to the office," Alphonse tells her as they watch the children run off. "I should be home by dinner."
"What are you doing?" she asks. "If you don't mind me asking?"
"Just a couple meetings," he says with an indifferent shrug. "One of which is very important..."
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"Mr. François, your nine o'clock is here,” his assistant says on the intercom.
"Thank you, Maria; send her in,” he says.
The ding of his door tells him that the person has entered his office. Taking a deep breath to still himself, he turns around and looks at the person: Georgianna. Alphonse looks over her; she wears a tight blue dress that shows off her long legs with her blond hair pulls into a tight bun at the back of her head. Not a hair out of place.
Alphonse can't help but compare her to Rosalinda: the skin color, head shape, hair color, and physical form. He also compares their personalities and traits and so far, Rosalinda is winning in every match in his mind.
"My assistant said you wanted to talk to me," she says, putting her purse down in a chair.
"Yes, I did," Alphonse says stiffly. "Please sit down."
Georgianna takes a seat and leans against his desk, looking him up and down with a lustful smirk. Alphonse keeps looking her in the eye, not falling for her petty seduction as not long ago, he would have been putty in her hands—not anymore. He decides to take the direct route.
"Look, Georgianna," he begins. "I know you have been a...good mother to Lukas and you deserve a break."
"Oh?" she asks with an arched eyebrow.
Nodding, Alphonse reached behind his desk and takes out a check. "I am willing to offer you $5 million in order to give Lukas to me, I mean sole custody. That will be nothing for me and he already has bonded with Rosalinda, so you don't have to worry..."
The words falter on his tongue when he sees her eyes blaze over in anger. He’s messed up mentioning Rosalinda and her eyes are blazing with fury.
"So, you want to take me son away from me because of that slut?" she hisses lowly. "Is that it?"
"What? No, that's not it,” he says, trying to cover up his slip of the tongue.
Georgianna stands to her feet and leans over the desk at him, her eyes glaring.
"You tell that Mexican slut that my son isn't going anywhere. You are not taking him from me to raise with that whore and her little bastards!"
Snatching her purse from the chair, she marches out, slamming the door behind her. With a heavy sigh, he sinks into his chair and rubs his forehead; this isn't going to be easy.
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"Mama, can we go outside and play please?" Antonio asks Rosalinda back at home.
Rosalinda looks up from where she’s trimming the hem from a dress. "Sure, go ahead. You have your whistle in case something happens?"
Antonio nods and holds up the metal whistle that Alphonse had given all three children in chase they ever got into trouble. They all know how to use it. When Rosalinda gives her nod of approval, the young children turn and run out of the house to play. Turning back to her dress, the baby gives a hard kick that almost knocks the wind out of her and she grunts heavily, gripping the wall.
"Ow," she yelps. "Damn it baby, that hurts."
When her stomach begins to growl, she puts down her needle and heads to the kitchen to get something to eat. As she’s making a sandwich, she hears a knock on the door and frowns slightly. Who could that be? she wonders.
Leaving the sandwich in the kitchen, she walks to the door and opens it. Her eyes widen in surprise when she sees Georgianna standing there. The woman huffs as she looks Rosalinda over, her nose wrinkling as if she's smelled something wrong.
"I see Phonsie isn't here," says haughtily huffs.
"Who?" Rosalinda asks in confusion.
"Alphonse," she snaps. "What, you don't know the nickname of the man you're screwing?"
Strike one... "Look, what can I do for you, Georgianna?" she asks, trying to keep her temper in check.
"I'm looking for Alphonse," she says.
"Well he's not here, but I will tell him you came calling," Rosalinda says, beginning to close the door.
Behind her, they can hear the children come running in, giggling and playing and then her eyes grow wide.
"Lukas?" Georgianna calls. "Lukas, honey it’s mommy!"
Lukas freezes instantly and looks around frantically, as if trying to find some place to hide. When he finds none, he bites his lip and stays frozen.
"Lukas, get over here!" Georgianna snarls. "That is not the way I raised you!"
Slowly, he walks over to the two women and stands behind Rosalinda, his large blue eyes on his mother.
"Aren't you going to say hello to me?" Georgianna demands.
"H...hola..." he stammers.
Georgianna’s eyes snap to Rosalinda. "Teaching him your heathen language, you Mexican? That is not the way I'm going to have my American son raised!"
Strike two... "Look..." Rosalinda says through clenched teeth. "I'm not Mexican, I'm Puerto Rican...and Spanish is not a heathen language. Children who are bilingual actually do better in school."
"Like I need to know that from you," she sneers. "Lukas, pack your things; we are going home."
Lukas gasps. "No! No, I don't want to!"
"How dare you disobey me," Georgianna snarls. Reaching behind Rosalinda, she grabs him in her claw-like grip and shakes him violently. "Just wait until we get home; you will be in the closet for a week for this!"
"No!" Lukas screams. "Let me go! Not the closet, please!"
"Let go of him, you mean lady!" Isabel yells, running over.
She and Antonio try to pull Lukas from her grasp but being stronger, Georgianna begins to pull him back. It's like a tug of war match and Lukas is the prize. The poor boy screams with fright as they pull at him and Rosalinda quickly snaps from her daze.
"Let him go!" she snarls, grabbing Lukas. "All three of you!"
Her children instantly let go and Rosa
linda pulls the sobbing child from Georgianna's grasp. The boy buries his face in her chest as he sobs, his tears soaking her shirt. She turns to Georgianna in a rage. "Get out, and don't ever some back!"
"I'm not going anywhere without my son!" Georgianna howls.
"Get out before I call the police!” Rosalinda snaps, turning to her daughter Isabel, telling her in Spanish to get me the phone so that she can call the police on this crazy woman.
"What the hell did you just say, you bitch?" Georgianna snarls.
"Get out of my house!" Rosalinda yells. The hell with being pregnant. Letting go of Lukas, she lunges at her and Georgianna yelps, tripping over her own feet to get out of the door. She falls down the stairs and Rosalinda is surprised that she didn't break a leg with those trashy high heels.
Rosalinda follows her, grabbing her throat in her hands. "If you ever lay a hand on my son again, I'll kill you!" she hisses at her. "And that's not a threat, that's a promise."
Shoving her back, Georgianna falls on her bottom and then scrambles to her feet, running as fast as her legs can take her.
Chapter Nineteen
"Alphonse will you hold still so I can fix your tie?" Rosalinda asks.
Alphonse huffs with annoyance as Rosalinda pulls him close to fix his tie. He guesses he was in such a rush this morning that he forgot to tie it right. He was a bit nervous when he woke up, and still is. Today is the sit-down meeting between his and Georgianna's lawyer about the custody of Lukas. Normally, it's supposed to be just between the parents, but he requested that Rosalinda be there seeing as the boy looks up to her as a mother already.
"Are you ready?" she asks, looking into his eyes.
"Ready as I'll ever be," he says with a nervous smile.
Rosalinda smiles and presses her lips briefly to his before pulling away. Taking her hand, he kisses it and then they turn, walking into the building. They have a room reserved for them and he sees Georgianna sitting there with her lawyer, looking perfectly smug. Alphonse’s own lawyer, a man named Nick, walks into the room and nods as he sees him and Rosalinda.
"Hello again, sir," he says.
"Hello, Nick," Alphonse says, shaking his hand and then turning to Rosalinda. "This is Rosalinda."
"Pleasure to meet you," he says, shaking her hand. "So, shall we get down to business?"
