PREGNANT AND TRAPPED WITH MY DILFS

1.Who'sthe daddy

Chapter 1

I’ve always loved older men, and older men always felt flattered by my attention.

They loved me too, but they were either married or broke—and when I finally found one that wasn’t both married and broke, I was already 28. Just two years until I was considered too old for the market. So, I had no choice. None at all but to settle for his son.

“Honey, are you sure you’re feeling good?” my fiancé said as he patted my back. We were currently having dinner and waiting for our parents to join us: my mom and her new husband, and his stepmom and dad.

But the nausea made it difficult for me to settle in. It was the smell of the pineapple drink he was having.

“Yes,” I said as I forced the gagging down for the second time.

“Are you sure?” he asked. I wanted to nod again, but I was already on my way, sprinting towards the restroom. No, I wasn’t sure.

The pregnancy test came back positive yesterday, and I didn’t know who the father was.

I threw up all the contents into the toilet with so much force I thought my insides would turn over. My hair was everywhere and soon I was crying. Pregnancy at this time was risky, not just for the marriage, but for my job. After washing my face, I flushed the toilet and stood in front of the mirror to wash my hands. I was cleaning the corner of my lips with toilet paper when the door opened and a man stepped in.

“Argh!” I gasped and pointed at the familiar face. “What are you doing here?”

“You’re in the men’s toilet,” he said, pointing to the signs on the toilet stalls.

“Oh.” I lowered my head and dropped my hand to my side. “I’m sorry, I’ll take my leave now.” I took one last glance at the mirror to ensure I looked presentable enough, but he pulled me back by my wrist and pressed my back against the door.

“Louis said you weren’t feeling too well. Are you good?” he asked.

“It’s nothing. Please let me go,” I said, but my voice was starting to falter already. The feeling of his hands on me brought back memories—those veiny, slender fingers and the number of times they've brought me to orgasm. All that was behind me now.

“Lyra. Your fiancé said you weren't feeling too well. Are you sure you want to be left alone?” I snapped my head up. Was he finally letting go of everything? He was blocked on all social media after I found out his son was my fiancé, but he'd tried so desperately to reach me.

“We can talk about our past later. But for now, I need to be sure that you're okay,” he said, and I finally broke down.

“I'm not,” I sobbed. He pulled me close, not minding that my tears soaked his shirt. It was his broad shoulders and the way the muscles of his chest and shoulders flexed underneath his white t-shirt that calmed me.

“I'm really sorry,” I wiped my face as I looked up at him. God, he was handsome. Distractingly so. A grey beard around his jaw and a little goatee that I could pull while riding him.

Focus, Lyra, I scolded myself. There was a bigger issue at hand.

“It's okay. Just tell me what's wrong and I'll make sure to solve it. Don't run from me anymore. Please.” His "please" was endearing. My heart ached from guilt.

“I'm pregnant,” I said. He stiffened up, his hold around my shoulders growing firm. The action butchered my heart and every hope that I had with him. Without raising my head to meet his gaze, I continued. “And I don't know who the father is.”

“What do you mean?” His voice sounded more strict and I finally couldn't take it anymore. I stepped away from him and gripped the sink to maintain my balance. “I'm one month pregnant, but it could be you. Or it could be him.” My voice broke as fresh tears filled my eyes.

I felt his presence before he wrapped his hands around my waist and turned me around.

“I hope I'm the father,” he said. I froze.

“What?” I stammered.

“You'll finally look at me again if I'm the dad. We can go back to how we used to be,” he said, placing soft kisses on my forehead, although I hadn't yet made sense of his words.

“Y... you want to be the father of this child?” I pointed to my belly, exasperated.

“Yes, Lyra. Yes, I couldn't hope for anything more,” he said as he placed his palm tenderly on my flat stomach. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes and fell. Even Eliot wasn't happy when I told him I suspected I could be pregnant, yet...

“Don't cry again. We need to join the family.” He tenderly wiped my tears with the soft pad of his thumb.

“But—” I sniffled, breaking my sentence.

“You don't need to worry. If it's my son's child, then I'd be the best grandfather. But I hope sincerely that I can be the father to your unborn child, Lyra,” he said as he kissed my forehead again.

I nodded and wrapped my hands tightly around his waist. “I love you, Kevin!” I sobbed into his chest, which was already soaked with my tears.

“I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't,” he smiled and patted my hair.

After making sure I looked presentable enough, we returned to the table where Mom and my stepdad were already sat. My heart thumped as I sat between Jake and Eliot. Being so close to him brought back memories. And before you judge, it's not what you're thinking.

I've never had anything to do with him, although he was the source of my fantasies and fetishes. I never knew I could love an older man and wish to be claimed by him until I returned from college to my mom announcing her new marriage to this sexy man. She made us move, and it was clear that she was in love again. I wouldn't ruin that by getting involved with family, although technically we weren’t blood-related.

“Are you good, honey?” he asked as he patted the back of my hand over the table.

“Yes,” I nodded. “I was just feeling nauseous,” I confessed as I looked away from him.

“Nauseous?” Mom asked with an alarmed tone. “Did you come down with another fever, honey?” she asked as she reached across the table to touch my forehead.

“No.” I spared a glance at Eliot, but he looked away. That's right; he didn't want for this to happen.

“It's not a fever,” Jake said to my right. “She's pregnant.”

The table fell silent. The whole restaurant seemed to turn their heads in our direction at that moment. I'd never felt more self-conscious in my life.

Defensive, I asked, “How did you know?”

He brushed the back of my arm with his thumb and said, “You looked pale, so I read your pulse, but I noticed what it really was. Did you get a test done yet?” he asked as he lowered his glasses from the bridge of his nose.

I swallowed as he looked at me with those almond eyes of his. They glowed with the special lighting in the room.

“That's actually why we wanted to call this meeting,” Eliot finally spoke up, although he sounded very inconvenienced. “Lyra doesn't have many friends, and we were hoping one of you could stay around with her in this delicate time.”

Mom looked impatient while my two daddies listened with rapt attention. Eliot continued.

“I'll be on a business trip for just one week.” He was looking at Mom, but her phone chose that moment to ring and she stood up to take it.

“Work call,” she said as she stepped out. She didn't show up again until the end of the meeting.