Page 25 of Forbidden Pregnancy (The Buffalo Italian Mob Family #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

Michael

Twelve years ago

One week after Cosima’s accident

C osima doesn’t fidget as much in her lessons thanks to the cast. Her entire demeanor improved considerably since her fall last week, even if her suffering is still fairly high.

That horse of hers threw her into the air and Cosima broke her fall with her dominant arm, cracking the humerus in a horrific splinter.

I sent Myra home and then drove Cosima to the hospital while she screamed and screamed in pain.

I don’t miss the sound. The doctors gave Cosima enough pain medication so she can get through the day, but she’s still not herself.

Myra uses the opportunity to cheerfully review French grammar, taking advantage of Cosima’s diminished capacity for protest.

As usual, I oversee their lessons, but this week it’s far more difficult for me to pay attention to Cosima.

Myra dresses conservatively, as usual, but she has this incredible way of making these long schoolteacher dresses look completely…

sexy. She doesn’t show an inch of skin, but I’m still lost in a deep fantasy about her dress.

She’s here for work, so I don’t expect her to meet my lingering gaze. But I can’t stop thinking about what it was like to take this woman’s virginity against the wall of the guest house. It was hot. Spontaneous. And I want more.

Then again, I don’t want Myra to think my only interest in her is sexual just because I completely fell apart after kissing her. Cosima has to leave her lessons early today for a doctor’s appointment and I plan on using that opportunity to make a real move on Myra and ask her on a date.

“Okay, so that is past tense, not present. Conjugate it again. It’s just like parler ,” Myra says patiently.

Cosima sighs, but she doesn’t fight this time.

She takes her pen in her non-dominant hand and starts writing.

Myra looks up at me, but once my eyes meet hers, she hurriedly returns her gaze to the paper.

“Good job, Cosima. Much better.”

Myra smiles and gives Cosima new verbs to conjugate.

I can’t stop staring at Myra. I waited an entire week since Cosima fell off her horse for this lesson.

They normally meet twice a week, but with Cosima’s injury it just wasn’t possible.

I fantasized about Myra’s features the entire time we were apart.

I agonized over her feelings and how she might be handling the sudden loss of her virginity.

Kissing her last week felt fantastic. Addictive. I study Myra’s face for any signs that she might be upset or hurt over what happened between us last week. She doesn’t seem to care about anything except Cosima’s ability to conjugate French verbs. I find that suspicious.

I’ll also admit it bruises my ego to think that having sex with me could have left Myra totally unaffected. I’m very much affected by her. And desperate to show her I care.

This time, I’m the one tapping my feet and sighing until the end of the French lesson. Myra even has to give me a dirty look to stop my fidgeting. The only thing Cosima hates more than paying attention to her classes is visiting the doctor, so she drags her feet when putting her things away.

“By the time this broken arm heals, you’re going to be fluent in French,” Myra says with the type of constant enthusiasm only teachers seem capable of mustering up.

“Do you really think so?” Cosima asks.

“Of course. And when you’re fluent in French, I will bring you a chocolate crêpe .”

“What’s that?” Cosima asks, wrinkling her nose in confusion and possible concern that she might be agreeing to eat frog legs.

“It’s a delicious flat French pancake which I will smother in chocolate and surround in strawberries.”

“That sounds pretty good,” Cosima says, cracking a smile. “I’m going to study tonight.”

“Perfect.”

“Bye, Myra.”

“Bye, girl.”

Myra eyes me nervously. Cosima walks towards the door and looks over her shoulder at me in the doorway.

“Are you coming, stink bug?”

“I hope you’re not talking to me,” I growl, my cheeks heating up. Younger sisters are intensely embarrassing.

“Aren’t you going to stomp behind me all the way to the parlor?”

“I have to talk to Myra about her bonus,” I lie through my teeth to my naive younger sister, who shrugs and immediately buys my obvious lie.

“Whatever. Smell ya later.”

“I’ll meet you after the appointment,” I respond sternly. I would much rather lock Cosima in a puppy crate than allow her to smell me. Myra packs up her things quickly, but I immediately stand up and get between her and the door.

“We should talk about last week.”

She glances up at me in confusion that causes my stomach to sink into an uncomfortable void of despair.

Women don’t normally provoke such a physical response in me and I struggle to keep my composure in Myra’s presence.

What is happening to me right now? Did I stumble upon the world’s first heartless virgin?

“We don’t need to do all that,” she responds calmly.

I would normally attribute her peaceful demeanor to her profession as a teacher, but today her attitude feels malicious and cold.

She’s too detached and it humiliates me to feel like I’m the one emotionally unbalanced in her presence.

Myra’s gaze further puts me on the spot as she holds me in place expectantly with soft yet gigantic dark brown eyes.

“Okay…” I say, powering through with my original plan. “Would you go out with me then? On a date?”

I stumble through the words and sound so stupid that my stomach sinks again when Myra doesn’t immediately respond with a “yes”.

I don’t know why I expected her to act like the girls we went to high school with who fawned over me to the point where sleeping with one or the other wasn’t even a challenge.

“What’s your game here, Michael?” Myra asks defiantly, her arms folding over her chest and filling me with a deep worry that she’s going to reject me and turn further observation of her private lessons into a continuous humiliation ritual.

I have no game – just my earnest desire to spend time with Myra that doesn’t involve just sliding my dick inside her.

My game ? I’m stammering my way through asking this woman out like a fucking idiot and she thinks I’m playing a game here? The only game I’m playing is “survive this shit without looking like a fucking idiot”.

“I want to date you.”

“I don’t think you do.”

“Why not?” I can’t believe she’s arguing with me. Even if I could have predicted Myra would be hard to get, I couldn’t have predicted her forcing me to defend my position. I felt her pussy clamping around my cock with the deep throbbing that only comes from a genuine, deep orgasm.

“Listen, Michael. I’m not dumb. I’m very grateful for our opportunity to enjoy intimacy with each other but… I’m not the type of girl guys like you marry. And that’s what I want. I’m not a goomah.”

“A what?”

“A mistress.” Myra tries to hide the immediate reaction the word provokes. Her body shies away from me as she says it. I can’t believe she would associate the two of us with that word – especially when I just asked her on a date.

“I’m not married.”

She looks at me like she thinks I’m an idiot – which I’m not.

I’m not married and I never once thought that Myra was the type of woman who would be anyone’s mistress.

She dresses like an elementary school teacher…

from the seventies. I find her charming and strange, but I don’t consider her beneath me.

My problem is quite different.

“But you will be. And so will I. We’re going to end up with our own kind, so we shouldn’t waste each other’s time. I’m flattered, Michael. So if it’s about your ego, don’t worry. You’re hot.”

Does she really think I’m that shallow? I didn’t fuck Myra for my ego. I took her virginity because I wanted to – and I wanted her.

“What do you mean by ‘my own kind?’” I ask her.

“An Italian woman. Someone who understands… this.”

“You seem to understand the world quite well. You speak multiple languages. You’re studying to get a doctorate in Applied Linguistics. I don’t see you as any less than I am.”

“It’s not just about that,” Myra says.

“It’s just a baseball game.”

“Is that what it is?”

“Yes. I’m asking you on a first date to the Buffalo Bisons season opener against the Syracuse Salt Potatoes. You can pretend we’re just going as friends if that makes you feel better.”

Myra stares at me with wide eyes. I’m just happy I stunned her into silence long enough that she stops arguing with me. I don’t know what emotional reaction I just provoked in Myra, but my words worked on her just enough that she seems to see me for who I really am.

“Okay, fine. Just one date. It’ll be enough to change your mind.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re an athlete, Michael. You just want to win. I’ll let you win this one and then after that, you’ll get me out of your system.”

I smile and nod.

“After Cosima’s lesson next Friday. We’ll leave from here.”

I can’t stop grinning like an idiot. Myra seems more hesitant.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she asks.

“Yes. I’m taking you out on a date. A real date.”

Finally, Myra cracks. I see the hint of a smile on her pretty brown face.