I looked between them all—Caroline’s glowing body, Sofia’s wicked grin, Kate’s desperate need.

  My cock throbbed, the fire’s heat matching the one in my chest.

  “Are you sure this is really what you want?” I asked, voice rough, leaning toward Kate, my hand brushing her thigh.

  “Yes,” she said, grabbing my hand and pulling me in. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, with all this talk about babies.”

  “You have?”

  “We almost did it last time, remember? It was because I wanted it… but I still hadn’t made up my mind. But now… Now I know.”

  She hastily pulled off her panties and lay back as I moved between her big thighs, my hardness pressing into her wet entrance.

  “Yes, I want it raw, I want all of it,” Kate said, opening wider as I pushed inside her.

  “Make another baby,” Sofia said, her eyes sparkling. Caroline hummed her agreement, moving her hand across her belly.

  I groaned, sinking deeper into Kate, her heat gripping me, bare and slick. Her thighs quivered, locking around my hips.

  The sweat beaded on my brow as I rammed into her, the sports bra straining with each thrust.

  Caroline turned her head towards us, one hand supporting her head, her breasts swaying as she watched us. “Put a baby in her, honey.” Her fingers circled her belly.

  Kate’s moans grew sharp, her pelvis pushing up. “Please, Ryan” she begged, her submissive side shining through, eyes wide and desperate. “Come inside me, make it happen.”

  Our lips met, and we kissed passionately as I picked up speed. I pushed her legs up, opening her wider, and slammed in all the way, ramming against the inner entrance to her womb.

  I kept hitting that spot, the slap of skin loud against the fire’s crackle.

  She wailed, and her pussy clenched. I felt the pressure building, my balls tight, ready to spill.

  “You want this? You want to have my babies,” I growled, my lips brushing her ear.

  Her thighs trembled harder. She whimpered, “Please… I want to feel you come inside me.”

  Sofia’s hand slid to Kate’s belly, pressing gently, her whisper hot and filthy. “Right here, Kate. His sperm’s gonna find your egg.”

  My cock throbbed, the release rushing up, and I slammed against that inner entrance, groaning loud as I came, spilling into her thick and hot, filling her womb.

  Kate’s cry was sharp, her pussy clenching tight, milking me as wave after wave of her own orgasms washed over her, making her body shake under me.

  Slowly, Kate’s moans softened, her legs loosening, but her eyes stayed locked on mine, glowing with awe.

  Sofia’s fingers trailed to where we joined, her touch soft as I pulled out, my cock slick and spent. A thick ooze of my seed followed, creamy white against Kate’s flushed lips, dripping onto the floor.

  Caroline’s voice was dreamy. “Amber’s next.”

  Kate’s laugh was soft, hoarse. “Better be ready. Once she gets a taste of this, she’s gonna want more and more.”

  I grinned, pulling them close, the rug soft underneath us, the fire’s heat wrapping us in warmth. The thought of Amber—her ponytail, her doe eyes—quickly got me excited again.

  “I think he’s more than ready,” Sofia said, moving on top of me and flicking her tongue over my stomach, lower and lower.

  Chapter nineteen

  The annual Fall Festival was in full swing, with bouncy castles and food trucks in the central town park.

  One street was closed off and filled with stands selling hot chocolate, popcorn, and soups.

  The atmosphere was romantic, with gold leaves crunching underfoot and couples strolling arm in arm. It could have been the set of a rom-com movie.

  It was a great opportunity for campaigning, and, of course, all the election candidates were there.

  I stood behind Mrs. Donovan’s table, handing out flyers while Caroline and Kate worked the crowd.

  Caroline had taken to resting her hand lovingly on her belly—a gesture that had become almost constant since her doctor’s visit.

  To my eyes, she looked exactly the same, with that slight feminine roundness she’d always had.

  But it seemed like she’d convinced herself that this was a baby bump — or at least, she liked to pretend it was, and I wasn’t going to spoil her fun.

  We all knew it would become a baby bump soon anyway.

  I think she was also just so excited with the idea of being pregnant.

  “Congratulations, Caroline!” called out one lady. “How are you feeling?”

  Caroline beamed, her hand moving in that familiar circle over her tummy. “Wonderful, thank you! Just wonderful.”

  Across the park, I could see Amber’s campaign booth decorated with professional banners and tablets for voter registration. She moved through the crowd with that crisp, professional air, shaking hands and distributing literature.

  But I caught her looking in our direction more than once.

  The afternoon turned into evening, the air grew unusually cold, and a bonfire was started.

  Many people gathered around it, rubbing their hands and bouncing on their toes to get warm.

  With Mrs. Donovan’s table all packed up for the day, we went to the bonfire for food. I was just finishing a hot dog when I noticed Amber approaching.

  Caroline stood at my side, her hand automatically going to her stomach again. “Hi, Amber.”

  Amber’s eyes immediately dropped to Caroline’s protective gesture, and something flickered across her face.

  “Caroline. I… I wanted to say… Congratulations.” She paused, searching for words. “I heard about your… your news.”

  Caroline’s smile grew wider. “Thank you. We’re over the moon about it.”

  “That’s... that’s wonderful.” Amber’s voice caught slightly. “You must be so excited about becoming a family.”

  The word ‘family’ hung in the air, and I saw Amber’s composure crack just a little. Her eyes lingered on Caroline’s face, taking in the glow that everyone kept commenting on.

  “"We are,” I said quietly. “It changes everything, you know? Makes you think about what really matters.”

  Amber’s gaze met mine briefly, and in that moment, I saw the regret, the longing for what she’d convinced herself she couldn’t have.

  “Well,” she said, turning abruptly. “I should get going. Early morning tomorrow.”

  She walked away quickly, but not before I saw her lip quiver.

  Caroline squeezed my hand as we watched Amber disappear among the crowd.

  ***

  The weeks passed, the leaves kept falling, and Thanksgiving approached.

  The election, scheduled for the first week of December, almost seemed to get lost among the excitement of planning for the holiday.

  Caroline, Sofia, Kate, and I had decided to spend it together, and it felt significant—our first special holiday.

  Caroline’s belly grew into something that was definitively more than just her normal feminine tummy.

  She now had a very noticeable baby bump, and her habit of resting her hand on it only made it even harder to ignore, even when she wore her big, cozy sweaters.

  People stopped her everywhere to talk about it now, which she loved, and everybody at her work knew, too.

  For the most part, people seemed to be growing more accepting of the father, and our unconventional relationship.

  In a relatively short time, I’d gone from being an outsider to a familiar public figure. Our exposure of the former council’s corruption had won me a lot of fans. Now, with our campaign work, more and more people were getting to know me.

  But we were all public figures, not just me. Caroline, Kate, and Sofia were each well known and active in the community, in their own different ways, long before I arrived.

  This meant that our unconventional relationship was also quite public. And we never tried to hide it. People seemed to see that we were happy and a force for good in the community.

  This was put to the test when the other side’s expensive suit-wearing candidate, Tim Spittleburg, tried using it against Mrs. Donovan, basically saying she was associated with disreputable people.

  It backfired. Residents had little appetite for that kind of mudslinging, and we were still riding high on our popularity after bringing down the council.

  We had a few Amber sightings—including once when she ducked into the post office when she saw us coming down Main Street.

  But otherwise, she remained determinedly invisible.

  These thoughts passed through my mind as Sofia’s house was filled with the scents of her Thanksgiving turkey cooking in the oven.

  I stood in her kitchen doorway, watching her hips sway as she moved between the stove and counter.

  She wore a sexy burgundy dress that hugged her curves and showed off the perfection of her mature body. The wide hips. The big, round globes of her ass. Her smooth back, and those soft arms.

  Her long, dark hair cascaded down her back, luminous. Her cheeks had a warm glow, and she hummed softly, content that there were many people to feed tonight.

  Including her favorite boy.

  I knew it gave her so much joy just to cook for me.

  “You’re staring again,” she teased without turning around, stirring something that smelled incredible.

  “Can’t help it. You look so good.”

  She glanced over her shoulder with a glowing smile. “You like your mamma all dressed up for Thanksgiving?”

  Grinning, I crossed to her, sliding my arms around her waist from behind. Her butt was so pert and voluminous that it was unavoidably pressing into me. “You know what that talk does to me.”

  “Maybe that’s the point,” she purred, leaning back against me. “But we have work to do. The turkey needs—”

  “I know, mama,” I murmured, smirking against her neck, hugging her closer.

  She let out a musical giggle, her smile spreading further.

  “But the turkey can wait,” I insisted.

  She paused, leaning back against me, stroking my arm. “Mmmm, I wish. But no, mi amor. Caroline and Kate will be here soon. And you promised to help me move the dining table.”

  The doorbell rang.

  We looked at each other, puzzled. Sofia checked the time, frowning. “Did somebody come early? We should have another hour.”

  “Who else would it be?” I wondered aloud. “Maybe Jehovah’s Witnesses or something.”

  Sofia wiped her hands on her apron. I followed her to the front door, and when she opened it, I heard her sharp intake of breath.

  “Miguel! Qué haces aquí?”

  Standing on the porch was a somewhat short but broad-shouldered young man who was unmistakably Sofia’s son.

  Same dark eyes, with expressive features. He seemed mature and well put together.

  At first glance, I would have guessed he was Sofia’s eldest son, but I knew that Miguel was the younger one, twenty two years old.

  He wore a crisp button-down shirt and dark jeans, and carried a duffel bag over one shoulder.

  “Surprise, Mami,” he said.

  As they hugged each other tightly, Miguel’s face suddenly seemed much younger. His brow scrunched together with fierce emotion, like a little boy reunited with his beloved mommy after being away.

  “Oh, I miss you so much!” Sofia sobbed. “I’m so glad you come!”

  “I decided at the last minute and I… I thought I’d surprise you,” he explained.

  “Oh, is the best surprise!”

  He hugged her even tighter, lifting her slightly off the ground, before setting her down again. But over her shoulder, his gaze flicked onto me.

  Even from where I stood, I could see the question—and the wariness—in his dark eyes.

  “I can’t believe you’re here!” Sofia said, pulling back, looking him over. “But where’s Elena? I thought—”

  “She couldn’t get away from work and school. That’s why I decided to come out here at the last minute.” He set his bag down.

  Sofia touched his arm, turning to me. “Miguel, this is Ryan, my boyfriend, who I told you about.”

  “You did,” Miguel said, smiling politely and stepping forward to shake my hand. “Nice to finally meet you, sir.”

  He was very well-mannered—so much so that I was immediately inclined to like him. But there was also something measuring in the way he studied me, and I could see he was protective of his mother.

  “Good to meet you too,” I said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  For a second, Miguel’s mouth tightened with emotion at those words, and it made me realize Sofia might have downplayed how much her sons cared.

  She’d almost made it sound like they’d abandoned her, but this was probably just Sofia being her dramatic self.

  “Come in, come in!” Sofia bustled between us, almost trembling with joy. “Miguel, you must be hungry. And tired from the drive! How long—when did you—”

  “Mami, breathe,” Miguel said affectionately, his arm around her, though his eyes kept flicking back to me. “I drove all night. It was worth it to surprise you.”

  As we moved into the living room, I could feel Miguel taking everything in—the comfortable domesticity, and the obvious signs that I spent a lot of time here with his mother.

  Chapter twenty

  “Miguel, you must be starving,” Sofia said, bustling toward the kitchen. “I have so much food, and—oh! We need to move the dining table first. It’s too small for everyone.”

  She turned to us, hand on hip. “Can you two strong men handle the big table from the garage? I need to check on my turkey.”

  Miguel and I exchanged a look. His expression was perfectly polite, but I could see the wariness there.

  “Of course, Mami,” he said, then followed me.

  We made our way through Sofia’s back door into the small garage, which smelled of motor oil and dust.

  The dining table leaned on its end against the far wall, a sturdy wooden piece that would definitely require two people.

  Miguel hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something.

  But I moved towards the table, not leaving space for awkwardness. “Let’s get this thing on its feet,” I said.

  We maneuvered the heavy table through the doorway and into the dining room, setting it down with a thud.

  Miguel straightened, running a hand through his dark hair. For a moment, I saw raw emotion beneath his politeness. “My mom is... happy. I can tell that right away.”

  “Yes, she is.” I met his gaze directly. “I care about her.”

  Before he could respond, Sofia’s voice called from the kitchen. “How are my boys doing with that table?”

  Miguel’s eyes widened with mild horror at ‘my boys,’ but he quickly recovered. “Almost done, Mama.”

  As we positioned the table in the center of the room, the doorbell rang again.

  I heard the front door open, followed by Sofia’s delighted greeting and Caroline’s warm laughter. But when they appeared in the dining room doorway, Miguel went completely still.

  Caroline looked radiant, her autumn-colored sweater emphasizing her glowing skin and the unmistakable curve of her belly. She carried a covered dish.

  “Miguel!” she exclaimed, setting down her dish to give him a hug. “Look at you! I almost wouldn't recognize you!”

  I watched Miguel’s face as Caroline embraced him, and saw confirmation of what I’d suspected. A deep flush spread across his cheeks.

  “Hi, Caroline,” he managed, his voice slightly hoarse. “Congratulations on…” He gestured towards her stomach. “On your baby. Mom told me the news.”

  Sofia appeared beside them, beaming. “I still remember when Miguel always follow Caroline around like a little puppy. Trying to help her with groceries, asking to cut her lawn. You remember?”

  “Mama,” Miguel groaned, looking like he wanted to disappear through the floor.

  “He was such a little gentleman,” Caroline said, not showing any hint of awkwardness.

  I watched this interaction with fascination, the pieces clicking into place.

  Of course Miguel had been infatuated with his mom’s hot friend next door—what boy wouldn’t be?

  And now here she was, glowing with a baby from a man not that much older than him— and the same one who was fucking his mother.

  “Well,” Caroline said, either oblivious to the undercurrents or choosing to ignore them, “I’m just so happy you’re here for Thanksgiving. It’ll be perfect having the family together.”

  Miguel’s eyes met mine, and I saw a flash of something other than polite wariness.

  There was hurt there, and confusion… and anger.

  “Kate should be here soon,” Caroline said, moving towards the table.

  Miguel’s eyes darted between us as it sank in. Kate… The third one.

  But he became distracted when Caroline settled into one of the chairs we’d arranged around the table. Her hand went automatically to her bump.

  Miguel’s eyes tracked the movement, and I saw his jaw tighten slightly. The sight of Caroline pregnant—with my child—clearly affected him in ways he was struggling to process.

  He blinked a few times, then swallowed. “Kate’s coming too?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

  “Of course, mijo,” Sofia said, appearing with plates and silverware. “Kate is family now.”

  The word ‘family’ seemed to hit Miguel. He looked around the room, taking in the massive change that had happened to his old territory.

  “I’ll help set the table,” he said gruffly, moving toward the table. He grabbed silverware, methodically placing them.

  “The turkey smells incredible, Sof,” Caroline said. “How much longer?”

  “Another hour, maybe two,” Sofia replied, bustling back towards the kitchen. “Miguel, you remember how I always make too much food?”

  “I remember,” he said softly, and for a moment his expression gentled. But then his gaze found mine again, and the wariness returned.

  The doorbell rang a third time.

  “That’ll be Kate,” I said, moving toward the front door.

  When I opened it, Kate stood on the porch holding a bottle of wine and a casserole dish, her cheeks fresh from the November chill.