“Mmmmmm, I'm coming, baby, you feel so fucking good to me,” she moaned out.
As we came down from our high, I collapsed onto her, my body sated and spent, my mind drifting in a haze of pleasure and contentment. Calla's arms wrapped around me, holding me close, her breath slowing to match mine. In that moment, I knew that this was where I belonged, in her arms, surrounded by her love and devotion. And I wouldn't trade it for anything. Tonight, she wasn’t my mistress; she was my woman, and we’d made love after finding out we were starting a family.
It wasn’t wild or frantic. It was steady, grounding, and reverent. Every touch felt like a promise. Every kiss was an affirmation. I lost track of time. All I knew was that with her was home, the sound of her breathing, the warmth of her body against mine, the way her voice wrapped around me like a blanket when she whispered my name; it all brought me a comfort I never wanted to let go.
When she finally pulled me close, tucking me against her chest, the world outside the room didn’t exist. There was no fear, no uncertainty, only the quiet beat of her heart against my ear.
She kissed the top of my head and sighed softly as her hand found my growing midsection, where our bundle of joy was forming. “You have no idea how much I love you, Amiyah.”
I smiled against her skin, my body relaxed and my heart full. “I think I’m starting to.”
When I woke up the next morning, the light was pouring through the curtains, warm and golden, spilling across the sheets like honey. Calla was still sleeping beside me, her arm draped over my waist, her hand resting protectively over my stomach.
For a moment, I just lay there watching her breathe, trying to let the peace of the moment sink in. Last night had been perfect, more than I ever could have imagined. I had expected fear, hesitation, maybe even anger. Instead, she gave me love, pure and certain.
I brushed my fingers along her wrist and smiled when she stirred.
“Good morning,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.
“Morning,” I whispered.
Her eyes opened slowly, the corners crinkling as she smiled at me. “How are you feeling?”
“Lighter,” I said honestly. “Like I can finally breathe again.”
She leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Good, that’s how you should always feel.”
For a while, we just lay there, tangled in quiet comfort, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. Then Calla shifted slightly and looked at me with that familiar mix of curiosity and focus.
“So,” she said softly, “when are we telling James?”
That one question made my heart race again. I looked down, tracing invisible circles on her arm. “Soon. I don’t want to wait too long, but I also don’t want to drop it on him out of nowhere.”
Calla nodded, thoughtful. “We should make it special. He deserves that.”
I smiled, relief washing through me. “You’re thinking what I’m thinking, aren’t you?”
Her grin spread slow and wide. “Something memorable.”
That’s how it started, both of us sitting in bed in our robes, planning the moment we would tell James he was going to be a father.
It didn’t take long for it to turn into a full production. Calla called it Operation Dad’s Club, and I couldn’t stop laughing at the name.
She wanted to include his closest people, the ones who mattered most. Caleb, Calil, Knox, Maverick, his father James Sr., Dro, CJ, and Yanna’s dad, Anthony. All of them had been there for him through so many seasons of his life since he’d made Winston Hills home that it was only right that they would be there for this one, too.
We decided to host it at Noire, the perfect place for something like this, private, sleek, and meaningful to all of them. The plan was simple but brilliant. Each man would be handed a cigar, and every cigar would have a custom wrapper that read, Welcome to the Dad’s Club.
Calla laughed so hard when she said it out loud. “You know his face is going to do that little squint thing he does when he’s confused, right?”
I giggled, nodding. “And he’ll probably look around and say something like, ‘Who the hell is joining the Dad’s Club?’”
She grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Exactly. That’s when we walk in.”
“With framed ultrasound photos,” I added, my stomach fluttering at the thought.
“And we’ll play the ultrasound video on the big screen behind the bar,” she said, her voice softening. “That’ll hit him right in the heart.”
The image of it was already forming in my mind: James surrounded by all the people he loved, holding the cigar, confusion shifting into realization,then joy. The thought alone made my throat tighten.
