That wordpleasefromhim? That’s always been my weakness. The way he said it made my fight fold instantly, especially while he was inside of me.
Weak, I let go.
Moses lifted the shirt, slowly and carefully, like he was unwrapping something precious. His lips found my collarbone, then trailed lower, planting soft kisses on my neck, my chest, down to my breasts, where his name was tattooed in hot pink ink. That was always his favorite part of me. He worshipped them like they were his religion, taking his time to suck each nipple passionately.
Moses never rushed anything. He was the kind of lover who’d hold off his own pleasure just to give me mine. Lick by lick, stroke by stroke. And now, he was taking his sweet time, kissing down my stomach.
Until he stopped.
Dead in his tracks.
He froze just above my belly button, his lips barely grazing the skin. I felt his breath catch, then he suddenly pulled back and tapped the lamp beside the bed. The soft light spilled into the space, and everything shifted. His eyes dropped to my lower belly, locking on the subtle curve I knew he’d just felt. At eighteen weeks, it wasn’t much, but without my clothes, it was there. Undeniable.
“You pregnant?” His voice was sharp but quiet, like the truth took all the air out of his lungs. He knew my body like the back of his hand, every flaw…every curve…every change.
I couldn’t move.
Couldn’t blink.
I just nodded slowly, biting down on my bottom lip as if it could keep the moment from breaking wide open. But I couldn’t. There it was. No hiding anymore...no more wearing shirts a size bigger. I’d carried the weight of this secret for months, and now it was staring both of us dead in the face.
∞∞∞
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I’m happy to inform you that we have landed safely. Please remain seated with your seatbelts fastened until we come to a complete stop.”
Finally, we touched down in a place I couldn't identify, as I still hadn't been informed of our exact destination. The only confirmation of our arrival came from the pilot.
Across from me sat a naked, angry Moses. In that moment, I couldn’t tell who was more hurt, me or him. Without a word, he rose from the bed once we came to a complete stop and began to put on his clothes.
“Come here,” he said once he finished.
Nervously, I rose from the bed and watched as he dressed me as well. We exchanged no further words. Once he was finished, Moses stepped out of the quarters and assisted one of our flight attendants, George, with the luggage. The man had packed for my ass.
I took the opportunity to carefully look around, and I realized we were on an island…an incredibly beautiful island. “Where are we exactly?” I asked Moses as I stepped off the jet. But he didn’t respond. Instead, George did.
“Your world,” he said with a smile.
I glanced at him in confusion. “My world?”
“That’s right. Your island in the Maldives. Hubby purchased it for you.” He winked.
My gaze shifted back to Moses, who was already a few steps ahead, his face unreadable behind a pair of all-black Tom Ford shades. I didn’t even know what to say. I tore my eyes away from him and looked around, letting it all sink in. He knew me so well. Knew how much I loved being surrounded by nature. I loved it just as much as I loved getting lost in my crime novels.
The tropical sun was shining down on us, lighting up the lush green palm trees swaying in the breeze. The sound of waves gently hitting the shore was so calming, and the sweet smell of saltwater mixed with the flowers around us was just magical. Again, we’d traveled a lot since his success, but this? This was some next-level shit. I couldn’t believe he’d purchased me my own island.
When we stepped inside the villa, a maid, Isabella, greeted us. She was older, Hispanic, with a kind smile that felt genuine. After introducing herself, she showed me around, and I paid attention to every little thing.
The villa was beautiful. Open space, high ceilings, and sunlight pouring through wide windows. It had that perfect mixture of modern and tropical, with earth tones everywhere and art that made the space feel alive. It felt intentional, like every detail had my name written on it. Moses knew that brown had always been my favorite color.
“Who said I was sleeping in here with you?” I asked as I stepped into the bedroom, noticing he had brought our things in.
Moses peeled off his glasses, tossed them on the dresser, and then pulled off his shirt. He didn’t even acknowledge what I said. Instead, his voice cut through the room.
“Why the fuck would you keep your pregnancy from me?”
I swallowed hard but held my ground. “If you hadn’t fucked up, I would’ve been home and you would’ve known.”
“Nah,” he snapped. “That shit ain’t cool, no matter how you try to justify it. That’s something you supposed to tell me. I’m your husband. That’s my baby. What the fuck, Mary?”
