Amore mio 2

75.

Martin's P.O.V.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. 

My woman. 

My gorgeous, unbelievably hot baby mama.

She didn't even have to try; she was a walking, talking masterpiece. Watching her, I finally got why my bestie always opted to stay home with his wifey instead of doing literally anything else. Ditching the fancy gala tonight? Yeah, the idea was looking more appealing by the second.

That dress...Merda. Whoever designed it deserved jail time for creating something so sinful.

Dark green—so deep and rich it reminded me of a forest at dusk. Skin-tight didn't even begin to describe it. It clung to her like it was painted on, showcasing every glorious, luscious curve. Her gorgeous breasts, full and heavy, looked incredible in the plunging neckline, perfectly framed by the sexy bodice. Then there was her belly—26 weeks of round, perfect beauty hugged by the soft fabric as if to show the world that she was carrying our baby. My baby. And those hips...Madre di Dio. The flare of them, the way the high slit teased just enough of her smooth thigh—it was criminal. 

I was a dead man walking. 

Blue balls were inevitable tonight.

She was standing in front of the mirror in our bedroom, holding up two small tubes of red lipstick. Her face was serene, her eyes soft as she studied them, clearly debating something very important. Then she looked at me.

"Martie, which shade of red do you like best?"- she asked, her tone light and sweet, as though the answer mattered to her more than life itself.

I tensed up, trying to see any difference between the two tubes. They looked the same. Both were red. Bold, bright red. I tried harder, but no luck. 

Were my eyes broken? 

"Are you sure they're different, baby?"- I asked, genuinely confused, my brow furrowing as I stared at the offending lipsticks.

The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them.

Big mistake. Huge mistake.

Her pretty face shifted instantly, sweet angel morphing into fiery, pissed-off panda in the blink of an eye.

Her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed, and she let out a huff of pure annoyance. 

"You are heartless."- she muttered, standing abruptly and disappearing into her glam room with a dramatic swish of her dress, her annoyance trailing behind her like a storm cloud.

I groaned, running a hand down my face. 

"Merda."- I muttered under my breath. 

Great. Smooth, Martie. Real smooth.

I got up and followed her because leaving her angry wasn't an option. 

She was standing in front of the mirror, reapplying her makeup with precise, angry movements while pretending I did not exist. 

I stepped behind her, wrapping my arms around her from behind. My hands cradled her belly, lifting just enough to take some of the weight off her.

She tensed at first, still mad, but then her body softened against me, leaning back into my chest. That little surrender? It made me smirk. 

No matter how mad she got, she couldn't resist me for long.

"I'm sorry, mama. I am an idiot."- I murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.