by Tina Martin
When he caught up to her, he asked, “Where are your keys?”
She shook her head. His driver must’ve dropped him off at the restaurant, so now they had to ride home together which equaled more tension. Great. “I’ll drive,” Emily told him.
“Emily, you’re not driving. Please give me the keys.”
Emily dug around in her purse until she found them. After pressing the unlock button on the keychain remote, she tossed them to him. She didn’t wait for him to walk around the car to open the door for her. Irritated, she snatched the door open quickly and slammed it closed behind herself.
Dante took a breath in an attempt to suppress his frustration before getting inside of the car. Tonight was the first time in a long time they’d had a real dinner date and she wanted to be home. Not here with him, chatting, catching up, spending quality time. She wanted to be home.
He opened the door, sat in the driver’s seat and glanced over at her. “I was just trying to do something nice for us for a change.”
“A change?” She looked at him. “We go out all the time, Dante.”
“Yes. With Ezra. We, you and I, haven’t been on a date in months, Emily. You plan something, it doesn’t work out. I make reservations and cancel them systematically, one after the other. Sometimes I don’t know why I bother to make a reservation because I know it’s going to be canceled. Tonight was—” He shook his head. “Never mind. Tonight was a complete disaster.”
He started the engine then began the drive home, stewing, yet still trying to understand her. On the drive, he glanced over at her, seeing her glazed eyes when they passed a street lamp. She was frustrated about not seeing Ezra today. He could understand that, but what he couldn’t understand was why she was doing this to herself. She didn’t need to torture herself like this – stress out over work – not when she had a man like him on her team. The problem was, she was having issues seeing that from his point of view.
* * *
At home, Emily quickly got out of the car and nearly ran to the house to see Ezra. He was probably sleeping, but she didn’t care. She had to see her little boy. Hold him. She jogged upstairs to his room and stood at the crib – admiring him, feeling tears well up in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Ezra,” she whispered brokenly. She wanted to be a good mother, but she didn’t feel like she was giving Ezra her best. And, if she wasn’t giving him her best, what would she do with another baby? Like the one growing inside of her.
She’d taken a pregnancy test a week ago. It was positive. She took another one before meeting Dante at the restaurant. It was positive. At seven weeks, she wasn’t showing just yet. While this was supposed to be an exciting time for her, all she could think about was how she would juggle two kids. A business. A husband.
She shook her head. This is everything she wanted – a fine, hardworking husband, a beautiful home, her boutique, a son and a child on the way – but now it all seemed overwhelming.
She jumped a little when she felt Dante’s arms close around her. She closed her eyes and immediately melted against him.
“I don’t want to fight with you,” he whispered softly so as not to wake Ezra.
Goosebumps traveled the length of her when she felt his lips brush against her neck. “I don’t want to fight with you, either, Dante.”
“Come on. Let him sleep,” he said, taking her by the hand, leading her down the hallway to their bedroom.
Once there, she asked, “Can you unzip me?”
“My pleasure.”
She raked her hair over her left shoulder so he could grab the zipper at the top of her dress. Then, tugging gently, he pulled it down until it stopped, just above her waist. Emily worked her arms out of the sleeves and allowed the dress to fall to the floor.
“I don’t like it when you’re stressed out, Emily,” he said before pressing his lips against her neck while lowering the strap to the black, lace bra she had on. He kissed a path from her neck to her shoulder then kissed and suctioned her there, listening as she whimpered.
She didn’t like being stressed out either. That’s why she closed her eyes and allowed him to bring her peace with his loving touch. His lips. The warmness of his breath against her skin. His left hand lay flat against her quivering stomach. She had yet to tell him that his baby was growing there.
She turned around, took his hands into hers, staring up into his hazel, worried eyes. “I’ll be okay, Dante. I just need to figure some things out…do some planning. You know.”
He smoothed a hand across her hair. “Okay, sweetheart.”
She felt his hands rake across her back, down to her bottom and squeeze firmly – a pressure that made her entire body tremble.
He took a deep, slow-paced breath, hoping it would help him breathe normally. “I want you.”
“I know,” she said, seeing passion in his eyes, hearing it in his voice – in his elevated breaths. She began unbuttoning his shirt, slowly, holding his gaze as she did so. Everything about Dante, she loved. Even amidst her own frustration, she loved him, and wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to make love to him.
“But only if you want me,” he told her while she carefully removed his platinum cuff links, one at a time.
Emily placed them on her nightstand, then took a few step back over to him. He’d already come out of his dress shirt, but he still had on a plain, white T-shirt. It had to go. Now. She tugged at it, pulled up and he finished the rest, looking at her after he pulled the shirt over his head and dropped it to the floor.
Emily placed her head against his chest, buried it there, enjoying the escape from reality he provided. She inhaled. Exhaled. Ran her palm across a muscled chest down to a ripped six-pack.
“Do you want me, Emily?”
She looked at him. Was he kidding? Like she could say no. Everything in her wanted him. She couldn’t resist him and he couldn’t resist her. The combination made for quite the explosion every time they made love.
“Yes, Dante. I always want you.” Even when I’m mad at you, I want you. Even when I feel like strangling you, I want you. Even when, at times, I don’t think you understand me, I want you.
Short of breath, Emily whimpered when his mouth latched on to hers. Stomach quivered when his hands brushed across it. Again. He lowered her to the bed, carefully, then took her mouth as his possession – delivering strong, sweeping kisses that nearly rendered her unconscious. Dante was an exceptionally skilled kisser and every time their lips touched, she was getting the lesson of a lifetime.
Emily held on. With both hands on the sides of his face, she tried her best to keep up with him, match his angles, move her head to match his movements, but he was doing it again. He was taking her breath away.
He afforded her an opportunity to breathe when he asked, “Have I ever told you how much I enjoy kissing you?”
Emily smiled. “Maybe once or twice,” she teased. It was way more times than that. He told her often though he liked to let his actions speak more than his words.
“Then let me tell you again. I enjoy kissing you, Emily.” And he returned to her lips, thoroughly kissing them before capturing her tongue, mating with her.
He stopped abruptly to look at her again. She said she wanted him, too, but he could sense something was wrong. She was usually more into it but tonight, she was just lying there, looking at him like she was in a daze.
“Emily.”
“Yes,” she said with a forced breath.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Dante.”
“Then make love to me.”
“Okay,” she whispered, lifting her head up off of a pillow to press her lips against his while her hands were pressed tightly against the sides of his face. She opened her mouth wide to get a grand taste of him, lips, tongue and all. From the deep groan in his throat, she could tell he loved that.
Now that their level of passion and excitement harmonized, he left her mouth to kiss her neck, grazing his teeth there, branding her. And, like the gentl
e giant he was, he left soft kisses all over her, lingering at her quivering stomach almost as if he knew his baby was growing inside of her. And he crawled back up to kiss her lips again, feeling her legs lock around him.
Emily gasped when she felt their bodies join – sharing heat, so much so, she felt like they would start a fire. Incredible.
Dante closed his eyes, intoxicated. The joining of two souls couldn’t be sweeter, more delicious than this. Every single time he made love to her the overwhelming feeling of being in love with her consumed every part of him. Made blood rush through him like hot mercury. Made him nearly lose his breath. She’d been the only woman who had ever had that kind of power over him.
“Why does every time we make love feel like the first time?” he asked, watching as she nibbled at her bottom lip and writhe beneath him. “Why?”
He captured her lips again while feeling her fingertips move up and down his back. Listening to soft moans escape her mouth whenever they could. He moved slow, taking his time, loving her the way she deserved to be loved.
Emily’s moans became a consistent hum, like sweet melodic tones to his ears. He felt her legs lock tighter around his, but control still belonged to him. He’d drive her to the edge then retreat. Took her there again. Retreated again. Over and over again, he held back, needing her to feel, let go and forget everything. She only needed to recognize his presence, his love, his body hidden in the depths of her. Giving. Taking. He delighted in the sounds of her rough breaths, the beginnings of her trembling body. But not yet. Not until they enjoyed each other a little while longer.
Emily had completely given in to him, enraptured by his lovemaking, feeling sweat form on his back the way she saw it gather to his forehead. And she felt him teasing her again, leading her to paradise but wouldn’t allow her to enter. Maybe if he knew how desperately she wanted it, he would be more forthcoming. So she began keeping up with his rhythm, grabbing handfuls of him and pulling him closer to her until his only option was to give and give and then it happened for her. She cried out his name in a scream while sensations suffused through her body, writhing underneath his. Moments later, he closed his eyes and threw his head back as those same sensations waved and coursed through him.
“Oh, Emily. You’re so good to me. So good to me baby,” he said in a rough breath as he struggled for air.
“And you’re good to me, Dante,” she said. A strained smile appeared on her face.
Dante rolled next to her and pulled her into his arms, holding her close to his chest. “I don’t want you to over-extend yourself, sweetheart,” Dante said breathy, threading his hands through her hair.
“Now you tell me,” Emily quipped, panting.
Dante grinned. He wasn’t talking about their lovemaking and he knew she was aware of that. “You know what I’m talking about.”
“I do.” Emily stroked her hand across the thin layer of sweat covering his chest. She could feel and hear his heartbeat beating as wildly as hers was.
“Then, baby, why not just put the boutique on hold right now?”
“I can’t—”
“Wait, let me finish, Emily. By on hold I mean we can hire some people to run it for you while you take a sabbatical.”
She found his hand, feeling him squeeze hers. “I’m afraid that, if I do what you’re suggesting, I will never make it back. It’s been a dream of mine for so long, Dante, and you even had it redesigned for me. It’s beautiful. It’s profitable. It’s everything I wanted. I don’t want to give it up. I don’t think I should have to.”
“So how are we going to grow our family?” he asked.
Emily could hear the worry, yet concern in his question.
“We’ll grow our family, but realistically, Dante, our schedules don’t allow much time for the child we already have. Why would we have another one?”
“Because we have help. We can hire a second nanny if we need to.”
Emily sat up and looked at him. “But that’s not what I want. I don’t want to be that kind of mother. I want to be a hands-on mother. Not the kind of working mom who allows some other woman to be a fill-in mother. It may be convenient for us to hire people, but, in the end, a child appreciates the people who devoted their time to them. Not money. Time. I want to be the one who takes Ezra to the park. I want to feed him, help him learn his colors and dress him in the mornings. Gosh, Dante, I feel so guilty when I’m not able to do those things for him. So how on earth are we going to have another baby when the only time we get to have some real wholesome interaction with Ezra is on the weekends?”
Dante sighed while thinking over her concerns. “You know what, baby? Come here,” he said, inviting her to lay down again. After she rested her head, he said, “We’ve both had long days and I’m drained. I know you are too, so let’s pick this up in the morning, okay?”
“Okay.”
“It’ll give us both time to think.”
Emily arched her head up high to kiss his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Emily.”
When she rested her head against his chest again, Dante closed his eyes. The only reason he brought up the topic of a second child over dinner was because he knew she was pregnant. She didn’t have to tell him. He knew. He ordered wine, but she hadn’t partaken in any. And she had that same glow to her skin as when she was pregnant with Ezra. That same smell she was probably unaware of, but he picked up on it very easily. So why was she against having a second child when one was already forming and growing inside of her?
Chapter Two
“Melanie, baby, we’re going to be late,” Dimitrius said loud enough for Melanie to hear him since she was still upstairs.
They were preparing to head to the children’s museum with Grace. The museum was holding a special ballet performance and since recognizing that Grace loved music and dance, Melanie made it a goal to include her in as many programs as possible, especially sing-a-longs during toddler time at their local library and museum events. Afterward, they would take Grace around the museum and let her play for a while. She’d just learned how to walk a few months ago. It would be good for her to use those little legs to go exploring with other children.
“Mel.”
“Just a minute, Dimitrius,” Melanie said, stuffing Grace’s sippy cup into the diaper bag. Then she came jogging downstairs with the diaper bag, her purse and makeup bag. “If we are late, it’s your fault.”
Dimitrius grinned. “Why’s it my fault?”
“You kept me up late last night.”
A sly grin touched his lips. He couldn’t deny that.
“Hey, did you find Grace’s pink hair bow?” Melanie asked, using the decorative mirror in the foyer to apply a peachy-colored blush to her cheekbones.
“Yep, and she’s wearing it. Looks beautiful. Daddy has some beautiful ladies in his life,” he said as he walked to the foyer where Melanie was.
Grace smiled, showing a few little, white teeth. “Da, Da.”
“Yes, beautiful?” Dimitrius said, looking at his daughter. “We need to tell mommy to hurry, don’t we?”
“Okay, okay. I’m ready.” Melanie grabbed the diaper bag, throwing the strap over her shoulder. Next came her purse.
“You look so pretty, Grace,” Melanie said to her daughter. Grace snuggled into Dimitrius’ arms. “And such a daddy’s girl.”
Dimitrius grinned. Grace was indeed a daddy’s girl, his little angel, the child they thought they would never have – the child Melanie wasn’t even supposed to be able to have according to her doctor.
Dimitrius followed Melanie outside, locked the front door, stepping out into the crisp, morning air. The sun brightened the day and according to weather reports, the temperature would climb a few degrees closer to noon. But this was good for May in Asheville. Sixty-five degrees on a Saturday. Perfect.
Melanie placed the diaper bag in the back seat while Dimitrius secured Grace in her car seat.
Then, Dimitrius started the engine, turnin
g to his right to look at Melanie – his beautiful wife.
Melanie turned to him, catching his gaze before her eyes rolled down to his lips. She smiled, then leaned forward, pressing her lips against his, giving him what she knew he’d been waiting for. Every time they made eye contact, she realized how fortunate she was to have him. They almost didn’t work out as a couple.
Due to a medical condition, Melanie’s doctor told her, years ago, that she wouldn’t be able to have a child. She struggled to tell her boyfriend at the time, Scott Porter. They were together for a couple of years and she knew he was on the brink of proposing. She could feel it. That’s why she had to tell him about her condition. Had to. She couldn’t wait until after they married to spring something like that on him. The right thing to do was to tell him beforehand. So, she told him. While she knew he would be disappointed, she didn’t expect him to break up with her. Via voicemail. He couldn’t even break up with her like a man. He’d left a voicemail message on her phone, told her he couldn’t be with her anymore and that he was sorry. No explanation. He didn’t even try to hear any explanation from her. Didn’t want to hear one. Then she ran into him at a restaurant – surprised to see that he had married some woman named Jackie and they had a new son – Jordan.
Talk about feeling crushed…
She was dating Dimitrius at the time she’d unexpectedly ran into Scott, remembering how she felt when Scott ran for the hills. She couldn’t survive another devastating breakup so she ended her relationship with Dimitrius, thereby saving herself the embarrassing conversation and the utter disappointment to follow. Dimitrius, both angry and hurt at the time resented her for breaking his heart until Emily, Melanie’s best friend, interfered and informed Dimitrius why Melanie broke up with him – that Melanie was worried he would leave her after he found out she couldn’t have babies.
But Dimitrius wasn’t that kind of man. Yes, he was stern, set in his ways and meticulous about almost every detail of his life. One of those men who had to have everything arranged in a particular order. Who had his shirts and suits sorted by color. Shoes arranged by designer. A man who hated being late. The kind of man that made you want to slap him across the back of the head and tell him to loosen up a bit.
