Those exotic womanly curves… She was an enigma I had to unravel. I wasn’t there for the thrill of it. Not really. It was just something to do. But then she picked me out of the crowd. The sultry burlesque dancer. Savannah. Jesus, my c*ck ached as she danced over me. Bending. Contorting. I needed her like fire needs oxygen. I had Savannah that night. And several nights after that. There was no end to the lust she stirred in me... Then it all went to sh*t. Now, Savannah’s pregnant. With my babies. Triplets. This wasn’t the deal. I know who I am— A fucking widow who gave up on emotional bullshit long ago. But I can’t walk away from this. I can’t abandon the mother of my children. I know Savannah doesn’t trust me. And hell, I don’t blame her. However, she needs to understand that she’s mine. Her and our unborn kids. And no one is going to f@*k that up.