“Oh my god. This all looks so good. Did you make this, Catherine?”

“Heavens no. Jason spoils me and has food brought in because he knows I suffer from nausea. It’s a miracle I can keep anything down.” Catherine smiles, placing a hand on her abdomen and looking lovingly toward Jason who’s approaching the kitchen now.

My breath halts as I take him in. He’s in another pair of cream linen pants and shirt—the epitome of Miami chic, with his slicked back hair and bronzed skin. How is he so gorgeous? It isn’t even fair.

“Ladies, are you ready to eat? I hope you don’t mind Cuban food, Mila. I was craving some pastelitos.” He motions toward a container full of strudel looking pastries and I instantly drool.

“Oh, no. Those look Amaz—”

Catherine’s phone rings and she interrupts me once again. “Excuse me, but I have to take this. Be right back.”

She looks flushed, and dare I say panicked? But that’s crazy. My mother never panics. Catherine is always cool, calm, and calculating.

And as I watch her step out of the kitchen, Jason reaches around me and grabs one of the pastries, splitting it in half right in front of me.

“Have you ever tried these?”

My mouth waters at the gooey jam filling. “Can’t say that I have, but I’m definitely excited to try. After all, you still owe me my dessert.”

Jason’s eyes twinkle as the corner of his mouth tilts up in a smirk. “That’s right. I do.”

Just then, he takes two of his thick fingers and slides them inside the strudel’s slit, coating them both in that rich filling. How can him poking a pastry seem so obscene, or get me so wet?

And if I thought my lady bits were on fire because of his little show, they outright combust with what he does next.

While maintaining eye contact, Jason lifts his sugary fingers to my face, swiping my bottom lip before nudging them forward.

“Open.”

And because I’m in a lust induced trance, I do, taking him in and reveling in the sensation of his thick digits invading my mouth.

Instantly, I’m hit with an explosion of flavor unlike anything I’ve ever tasted before.

It’s almost too much. The heady combination of this man feeding me paired with the tangy sweetness of this dessert has me ready to melt into the floor. Heaven. This is sheer fucking heaven.

Jason’s nostrils flare, his mind clearly on a similar path as mine if his dark and stormy eyes are any indication.

An intense moment of silence passes between us before Jason’s deep voice is ordering, “Suck.”

That one gravelly word makes my entire body erupt in goosebumps before I’m quickly doing as I’m told.

I suck hard, swirling my tongue around his fat digits and reveling in every note of sweet tangy goodness.

Fuck.” It’s almost a whisper, but I hear him.

As if overwhelmed, Jason’s eyes close and his body shudders. I’m about to give his fingers another swirl of my tongue when footsteps in the hall have him quickly withdrawing, taking a full two steps back in the process.

Guilt is visibly riddled over his masculine features, and it takes everything in me not to step up to him and hold him. He can’t feel guilty when what’s between us seems so impossible to ignore.

“I’m sorry, Mila. That was out of line.” Jason clears his throat and starts serving up a plate just as Catherine walks in.

“Did you two save me some dessert?” She’s pointing at the pastelito on Jason’s plate, the one he’d violated in my honor, giving me my first taste.

“There’s plenty here, Catherine,” Jason answers without looking up from piling food onto his plate.

“Oh good. You really should try these, Mila. They’re to die for.” Catherine beams up at me with a smug satisfaction and the devil on my shoulder dares me to speak up.

“I have, and they’re fucking orgasmic.” I’m staring right at Jason when I say it, the angle letting me catch his fork freezing midair.

“Mila Kournikova. I taught you better than that. Have some manners, please.”

My gaze switches over to my incubator and I see she’s staring daggers at me. Bet she didn’t expect this side of me to come out and play while I acted out the role of her dutiful daughter.

Well, too bad. She may get the perfect man in the end, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her recreate my childhood into something it definitely wasn’t.

I’m about to call her out on her bullshit when Jason cuts in, saving us from having to face the ugly truth the past seventeen years hold.

“Ladies, why don’t we go sit down? There’s something important I need to discuss.” He’s already walking past Catherine and toward the kitchen table, the massive oblong shape facing another picturesque window with views of the aqua sea.

“Perfect!” Catherine coos. “I have something I’ve been wanting to discuss with you too.”

At this, Jason looks back from the table, his brow raising and face blanching. Both a sign that he isn’t all too thrilled with mother’s announcement. “Really?”

“Oh, yes.” Catherine takes her plate and sits next to Jason as I walk to the other side, not caring that I’m missing out on the amazing view. At least I won’t be near my mother’s reach. At this point, God knows what else will fall out of my mouth.

I’ve never been the jealous type, but with Jason, it seems like I’m having a plethora of firsts.

Upon closer inspection, Catherine looks unsure of herself. That’s another first. She reaches up to his forearm and squeezes. “I was thinking… It’s going to take time to get the baby’s room ready, so maybe it’s best if I move into your room this week. That way I have more than enough opportunity to handle my business as well as plan for everything that baby Crown will need.”

The room spins at the mention of baby Crown—assigning him or her a name making it all too real. The man I’ve been lusting over is going to have a baby… with my mom.

I can’t breathe. I need air. There’s no fucking air.

“Mila.” Jason’s voice echoes in my head as if we were inside of a tunnel. “Mila. Are you okay? You look sort of pale.”

The room is closing in on me and I feel like I’m dying. I’m in no state to answer.

Next thing I know, I have broad hands pressing down on my shoulders. “Mila. Talk to me, baby girl. Tell me you’re okay.”

“She’s fine, Jason.” Mother’s voice cuts in just as her palm not so gently taps my cheek. “I told you to eat more, Mila. You know starving yourself won’t make you any more appealing to the boys.”

Lies, lies, lies. She’s never told me that and I would never do such a thing. I love food too much to skip a meal, and if she really knew me, she would know that.

I want to yell, but I’m still in this fog. I just want her to stop touching me. For everyone to back the fuck up and give me some space.

Suddenly there’s a large hand rubbing slow circles on my back, all the while a deep voice urges everyone to leave me alone. Armando.

“Please, sir. I think she’s having a panic attack. My sister gets these sometimes and crowding her only makes them worse.” He’s lifting me by the arms and carrying me away from the table, away from the toxic woman and her perfect lover. “I think some fresh air might do her good.”

“Perfect. Thank you, Armando.” I hear feet shuffling and a chair scraping hard against the marble floor, but my vision is still shrouded in darkness. “You’re in good hands, Mila. Jason and I are going to finish talking and then I’ll come and check on you. Okay, sweetie?”

As if I’d answer, even if I could. No. What I need to do is to get the fuck out of here. I’m already hyperventilating at the mere idea of them sleeping in the same room. I won’t last here much longer. With every step, visions of a little brother or sister with Jason’s eyes and perfect lips assault me, making me stumble.

“Miss, are you okay?” Armando’s strong arms hold me up and the knowledge that we are now a good distance away from Catherine and her plotting makes me breathe a little easier, allowing me to really take in my surroundings for the first time since the kitchen.

“I’m so sorry, Mando. I don’t know what got into me.” I’m hanging on to his forearms, his sturdy frame keeping me upright.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Family has a way of bringing that out in us sometimes.” Looking up into his eyes, I see that there’s a hint of recognition. Just how much did he hear, and how much can he tell?

“Mando, call me Mila. Miss sounds so proper, and the thoughts I’ve been having as of late are anything but.” I groan into my palms, leaning back against the exterior wall. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay, Mila.” Armando’s soft tone has me looking back toward him and I’m able to see the genuine pity on his face. Oh, he knows. “It isn’t my place, but if it’s any consolation, he hasn’t shared a bed with her since her arrival in Florida.”

Yup. He definitely knows. My throat goes dry and it’s impossible to swallow what feels like a lump full of sawdust. “Am I that obvious?”

Armando shakes his head. “No, Mis—Mila. I’m trained to notice details and that sort of thing. Especially on all of those who surround my employer.”

I nod, not really knowing what else to say.

“Like I said, don’t worry. Everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Life is funny that way.” He intertwines his arm in mine and steers me toward the beach. “Now, how about we go for a stroll? I think the fresh air will do you well. You’d be surprised at how uplifting digging your toes into the sand can be.”

I throw my head back and chuckle. “Oh, you don’t need to ask me twice. I’ve been dying to get out there since I arrived.”

“Well, then. Your wish is my command.”

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