Page 77 of Love and War

Killian stepped away going back to his boxes of my dance uniforms. Swallowing the glass stuck in my throat, I hurried to the kitchen. I knew if, no not if, but when I did, he would figure it out. I was running out of time; he was going to know. And it wasn’t going to be from my mouth, he was going to see the bump on my stomach and ask. But when I couldn’t be straight with him, when I couldn’t look him in the eye and tell him whatever he wanted to hear, it would be over.

I was a stupid, stupid girl.

33

Killian

Iwascorrectaboutthat leotard making her ass look fabulous. The matte black fabric lined her ass cheeks just enough to give a good view. It was a long sleeve, which I knew she’d love, cutting down her collarbone to just above her belly button. She was the most beautiful thing I’d seen.

I stood by the kitchen table, watching her, unable to take my eyes off her. The way she walked into the living room, changing the lights around. I nearly died when she smirked at me while dragging one of the wooden chairs to the middle of the living room.

I had no idea what she planned, but fuck if my cocked didn’t harden begging for me to rut into her.

“Sit,” she ordered.

“Yes, ma’am.” Dropping my ass in the seat, I leaned forward, trying to hide my erection. Aziza moved over to my phone that was hooked up to the speaker. Moments later, she hit play on a song and turned towards me.

Fuck.

I couldn’t stop the groan escaping me as she dropped to her knees. I was worried her cast would bother her, but she never let on that it did. Instead she began crawling towards me. Her ass swayed as she did.

Fuck, I was going to cum in my pants like a teenager from just watching her. Aziza slid in front of me, her pants splayed over my thighs, sliding up to my hip before back down.

Fuckkkk.

My mouth dropped open; I was sure I was drooling now. My hands reached to touch her, grab her. To just fucking touch her. Only she shook her head at me. Not allowing me.

Fisting my hands, I pressed them against the sides of my thighs. Aziza leaned back, pressing her palms against the hardwood floor, her casted leg bent to the side. While bringing her other leg up straight before displaying it off to the side, her legs were in the shape of a “V.” My eyes locked onto her pussy.

“Fuck…” I moaned out, willing her to finish this dance so I could rip it off her. I needed to be in her, now.

Instead, I stayed like a good boy, letting her dance. Until I took notice of that small bump. She could no longer hide it. And suddenly my cock deflated, and I was angry. My body moved to turn the music off before I could stop myself.

Aziza stood, eyeing me with uncertainty. Don’t worry, love, so the fuck was I.

“When the fuck did you plan on telling me?” I snapped. More force than I intended but fuck. I mean, come on, she’d been hiding she’s been pregnant for almost twenty weeks at this point.

“Wh–what are you talking about?” Yet her eyes couldn’t reach mine.

“Are we seriously not going to talk about this?”

Aziza slid her hands in front of her stomach. Hiding herself. We both knew. Her eyes dropped down to her feet. She knew that I knew. And that hurt even worse.

“Tell me something.” I crossed my arms over my chest to stop myself from reaching towards her. “I want to hear the words.”

Silence.

Her eyes never left the ground.

“Aziza, tell me now!” Aziza flinched. Fuck, I hated that.

“I’m pregnant!” she yelled with tear-filled eyes.

Now it was my turn to be silent. I heard the words. I know what she was saying. I knew before she even said the words. But finally she admitted it, finally telling me the truth. I was stunned silent.

“Oh, so now you’re silent?” she huffed, grabbing the blanket off the couch—covering herself up, and I didn’t like that.

“Why?” It was the only question that was able to come out. When in reality I had a million going through my head. When? Why didn’t she tell me? Did she truly not trust me? Did she think I would be like my own father? Was she scared of me?

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