TashaP

Ten minutes later you were parked in the lot of a strip mall with Rio sitting in your passenger seat. He squeezed your thigh, encouraging you to spill it all, listening carefully as you relayed what had happened as calmly as you could.

You had spent all morning at the dealership because of a warning light on your dash. The problem with that was your car wasn’t even a year old and they wanted to replace the same part for the third time. Then your mechanic called for the service department manager and it all went downhill from there. Despite your calm demeanor, this Lucas person was a scowling, snippy mess from the moment his name was called. He sat at the small desk across from you leaning forward just enough into your personal space for anyone with a brain to feel uncomfortable. Then while you attempted to explain that it was a three time repeat repair, he talked over you, regurgitating what the mechanic had already told you. With your frustration and your volume rising, you told him to look at your car’s history but he stood up and planted both of his hands on the desk - aggressively and loudly stating that the work needed to be done before walking away.

While you sat in the waiting area you decided that you were going to take it up with corporate instead of dealing with some man’s ego. Mentally you had moved on but once your car was ready, the service manager himself brought your final paperwork - and his attitude to have you sign off and receive your keys. Seeing that they were actually charging you for the part again, you couldn’t help but question the logic behind it. At that point, he didn’t even try to remain professional. He tossed a pen across the desk at you and snapped, “Just sign it already!” before he walked away. Leaving the poor, wide-eyed mechanic to hand you your keys and an quiet apology of sorts.

While listening to you, Rio’s face was on lock down. The only showing of anger was his flared nostrils and his stiff shoulders. For him, it wasn’t about the money at all. The thought of a man disrespecting you like that had his heart beating double time and his mind racing.

Finished with your story, you sighed, dropping your head back on the headrest. “The whole thing was stupid. He wanted me to act up, I could feel it - but it’ll be fine. I’ll call corporate later and get it straight. And I’m putting in a complaint on his ass.” 

No you won’t. Rio’s jaw was locked tight when he said, “Naw, I got this, mama. Give me the papers.”

Hearing his flat tone, you immediately opened your eyes and sat up. “Chris, I can handle it. I’m just pissed off and I needed to see you…get my head right before I went home.” Giving him a soft smile, you cradled his cheek in your palm, stroking your thumb over his scruffy beard, “You know how I am. I promise I’m good.”

His steely expression slowly turned soft. “I know you can handle it, ma.” Taking your hand to give it a kiss, his mouth turned up lazily on one side. “But it’s about more than that. Imma take care of you, aight? Come on. Gimmie.”

Popping open the glove box, you handed him your workup and receipt. You watched him flip through the pages until he found two other names scrawled next to yours. “Tony Ramirez and Lucas Reilly.” Frowning, he asked, “Which one.”

Leaning over, you tapped your fingernail on the printout, making a yuck-face remembering, “Him.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

Rio stared at his name for a second.

Lucas motherfucking Reilly. The man who disrespected his wife, in public no less. If it had been just verbal maybe he’d consider staying out of it, but leaning into her? Chucking a pen at her? That was a man being physical toward his wife, a man trying to be threatening, no matter if she saw it that way or not.

“He fucked up.”

Catching his tone, you looked over at him. “Chris--?”

The worried look on your face made him lean over, cupping the back of your neck to smother your concern with the kind of kiss that reminded you of exactly who your man was and that he did not play about you. 

With his lips still brushing against yours, he rumbled out a promise, “I got you…always. You know that.”

Holding his forearm, you pulled back to study his dark eyes before pressing a few soft kisses to his lips. “I know. I love you.”

“Love you too, ma…I gotta get back.”

“Okay.”

Getting out, he closed your door. Walking to his car, he flashed you a sultry smirk over his shoulder. Bursting into giggles, you backed out of the parking space giving him a wave. Rio was on his phone with “a friend” before you made it out of the lot.

This was not going to get a pass.

0.o.0.o.0

When Lucas Reilly walked inside his house, he hit the switch for the foyer light but nothing happened. Flipping the switch again, he huffed out a curse. Walking further into his home, he tossed his keys and phone on the coffee table. Fussing to himself in the dark on the way to the kitchen, he damn near swallowed his gum when he saw a slim man with a tattooed neck standing less than two feet in front of him. His eyes widened right before Rio gut punched him, folding him to the floor.

Coughing and sucking in air, Lucas struggled to his feet, feeling hands patting on him.

“Sorry, bro,” the thin man chuckled. “I didn’t think you’d go down like that.”  

Lucas jerked away, standing up straight. Squared up, he was ready this time but the man called him by his name.  

“Lucas, right?”

Lucas’ frown softened a little in his confusion but he still tried for bravado, “Who are you? Get the fuck outta of my house!”

“Nah.”

Taking a step backwards, poor instincts and panic made Lucas reach for his phone.

“Don’t do that.”

The confidence in the stranger’s command plus seeing the gold gun in his hand stopped him. Lucas swallowed hard at the man’s lazy smile and slow blinks. 

“What do you want?”

“Depends.” Planting his feet, he rolled his shoulders back. Crossing his wrists just below his waist, the gun dangled heavy and powerful from his hand. “I mean, me? I just wanted to meet you, have a little talk. You good with that? That alright?”

The casual way he spoke made Lucas’ stomach turn sour in fear. With his heart racing, he nodded yes.

“Good, good.” The faint smile on the stranger’s face was cold. “So, you work over at Neilson’s BMW right? Mechanic?”

“I-I’m the service manager.”

Nodding his head Rio continued, taking a step closer. “Okay…service manager. So like, you’re over all the mechanics?”

“Right.” His voice came out on a breath and Rio smiled softly.

“So you manage the work and the customer service part of your department. Like…if anybody gets outta line, it’s you that straightens them out?”

Confused as to where this conversation was going, Lucas hesitated.

“Come on…be honest.” Rio crooned in his raspy voice, taking another two swaying steps forward. “Everything is going so good.”

Is it? 

Having him closer, Lucas could see every detail of Rio’s expression. His lowered eyelids, the slight upturn in the corners of his lips, the drawing together of his eyebrows that didn’t quite shape a frown. Somehow his face was relaxed but wholly concentrated. And while his tone was almost friendly, his eyes were bottomless dark pools. For Lucas, when he tilted his chin up, exposing the tattooed wings of the bird on his neck - it was like watching a cobra rise and spread its hood. Mesmerizing, terrifying but he couldn’t look away. Every warning bell in his body was going off but he couldn’t move.

“Lucas?” Rio’s voice was softer, coaxing but in no way comforting. “You said customer service, too, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” Lucas swallowed, blinking, snapping out of it. “Yeah, that’s right.”

Rio chuckled just once, his expression changed to mock confusion, “Well, help me understand something. If you’re the one in charge of it, how is it that I heard you were talking crazy to my wife?”

“Me?” He sputtered. “W-What the hell is going on?! Man, I don’t know your wife!”

Rio’s eyes widened, “You don’t?”

“No! Look…if she got into it with one of my guys I can--”.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. My misunderstanding.” Rio wet his lips and nodded as if satisfied, putting his gun on the coffee table. “Cool. Guess I won’t be needing this after all.”  

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief letting his guard down, right before he felt the painful shock of being jabbed in the throat. And the strikes kept coming, hard and fast - body shot after body shot. Years of practiced self-control in the ring helped Rio stay in the torso area despite his anger. After all, this wasn’t a fight, it was a punishment. Plus Rio needed him to be able to go back to work.

Lucas tried to swing back at first but Rio landed a kidney punch that dropped him to the ground with a high cry. And once he hit the floor, Rio circled him to kick him in the back of his thigh. The strangled sound he heard Lucas make almost made him smile but after two more perfectly placed kicks, Rio stopped. He watched Lucas writhe around on the ground, pathetic and whimpering, gasping for air. Where’d the tough guy go?

Rio rolled Lucas onto his back, dropping a knee in his chest and pressing his gun into his forehead.

“Funny thing…turns out you did meet my wife today.” Rio reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, holding it up with your picture on the screen. Recognition flashed in Lucas’ eyes and fear made him lose control of his bladder. 

“Aw shit!” he wheezed, choking on a sob. “I’m sorry, man. I’m sorry! I was--”.

“You were what?!” Rio spat with his jaw tight. “You’re sorry for what?! Snappin’ on her? Throwin’ shit at her?” Rio thumped the end of his gun hard on his forehead twice, spacing out his next words carefully - each one wrapped in his menacing rasp. “Tell me somethin’…where were your infamous customer service skills when you were talking to her?”

Between the pain and Rio’s weight on his chest, Lucas could only suck in enough air to plead, “Please, man. Please!”

“Shhhhh! Relax.” Rio patted his cheek hard a couple times before he stood up to tower over the man, pleased by his continued struggle to breathe. Tucking his gun at his back, his face was void of expression. “You messed up, but it’s alright. Cuz you’re gonna fix it.”

Shielding his face and stomach with his arms, he rushed to answer. “Okay! I- I’ll call corporate and get your money back and everything,” he gasped out. “Just please don’t--”.

Rio flashed a beaming smile that didn’t erase the coldness in his eyes. “That’s a great idea, Lucas. When were you gonna do that?”

“Tomorrow,” he groaned. “Tomorrow! I swear!”

Rio dropped his chin and raised his eyebrows, inquiring as if the man had a choice. “You sure?”

“Yes! Tomorrow!”

“Good,” he said turning away. Turning back, he flashed another toothy smile. “Oh and thanks for taking care of it so fast, yeah? She’ll be real happy about that.”

Moving back over to him, Rio held out his hand to Lucas to help him up. Lucas stared at him unsure if it was safe to move. Rio waggled his fingers at him, keeping his arm extended, “Come on.”

As soon as Lucas’ fingers touched his, Rio delivered one more kick, this time to his balls. The way Lucas’ face contorted in a silent holler was a true reward for Rio. That’s for my girl. After watching him roll onto his side, moaning, clutching his crotch, Rio stepped back. “Call you tomorrow, Lucas.”

Without waiting for a response, he strolled out the kitchen door and walked down the block to his car. Sliding in on the passenger side, he gave Mick a quick pound.

“Where to?”

“Pick up. Central and Clayton.”

Mick gave a slight nod and pulled off.

0.o.0.o.0

8:46 pm

Seeing Rio’s name pop up on your phone, you sank back into the corner of the couch and drew your feet up, “Hey, baby.”

The warmth in your voice immediately relaxed him, loosening his grip on the steering wheel. “Hey mama.”

How many nights had he worked late this week? Just hearing his voice stirred up a need within you to be close to him, “Am I gonna see you tonight?”

“Yeah, on my way now. You hungry? Want me to pick up something?”

I love him your honor! “I could eat. Something small though.”

“Aight then, what do you want, darlin’?”

“Mmm…surprise me.”

Rio’s rumbling chuckle warmed your neck, “I got you.”

“You always do. Drive safe. I love you.”

“Love you.”

Before he could disconnect you had a thought. “Know what?”

“Hm?”

Hugging yourself, you made another request, “Skip the food…just come home, okay?”

The new huskiness in your voice said more to him than your words did. His notorious slow smile crept up on his lips during his pause in answering you. Wetting his lips and adjusting in his seat - his raspy voice dipped just a touch lower in pitch. “Oh, it’s l like that?”

Heat flushed your face and neck. His teasing always reduced you to a giggling high schooler, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Boy, just come home!”

Rio’s belly laugh filled your ear and your heart. “Bet.”

You stood there frozen, looking at your husband, dumbfounded, waiting for him to say it was all a weird joke. Unfortunately, the words never came.

 “So what you’re saying is… you’re evicting me from my own house?”

Your arms are folded, belly protruding just enough to serve as a physical reminder that you’re carrying his baby, something you know he’s obsessed with but refuses to get all soft about. Rio, standing in front of you like he actually thinks he can win this argument, shrugs, lips twitching in amusement.

“Nah, mama. Just temporarily relocating you. For your safety.”

Your safety. Like you’re not a fully grown woman who’s been handling herself long before he ever waltzed his irritatingly fine ass into your life with that damn smirk and infuriating charm. You tilt your head, unimpressed.

“For my safety?”

“Mmhm.” He leans against the doorframe, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “I can’t have you falling sick and miserable, yeah? Ain’t good for our little one.” His voice drops a bit at the end, eyes flickering toward your belly with that stupidly fond look he swears he doesn’t do.

You narrow your eyes. “So your solution is to kick me out?”

He grins. “No, relocate. Temporarily, of course. Genius, right?”

It’s not. It’s ridiculous. But the worst part? You know he’s not going to budge. And judging by the way your luggage is already sitting by the door, along with your favorite snacks, fuzzy socks, and, oh, this sneaky man! He even packed that lavender-scented pregnancy pillow you love? Yeah. This was planned in detail.

“How long am I being exiled?” You place a hand on your hip.

Rio rubs at his jaw, considering. “A week should do it.”

“A week?”

“Doctor said rest is key, and I don’t rest when you’re around, mama.” His grin is slow, deliberate, but the rasp in his voice tells you it’s not just for show. “You don’t let me.”

That is not your fault.

“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem,” you deadpan, but he just chuckles. “You’re not even sick, Christopher. The kids are, my babies need me,” you worry your hands in irritation.

“Nah. Sounds like a ‘get your pretty ass to that nice little Airbnb I booked’ problem. Mick gon’ drive you and be at ya beck and call ’til it’s all clear to come back. Me and these germy minions gon’ be good. I got grams coming to help out.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “I hate you.”

“Mm, love you too, mama.” He kisses your forehead before you can stop him, lingering just enough for you to feel the warmth of his lips before he pulls back with that knowing look.

And damn it, you should be mad. Should stomp your foot and demand to stay. But between the way he’s looking at you, the genuine concern behind the cockiness, and the fact that, okay, fine. You really don’t want to catch anything while pregnant. You sigh.

“You’re gonna miss me,” you taunt, grabbing your bags dramatically, Mick removing them from your grasp to place them in the trunk.

He smirks, opening the door for you. “Not with all these FaceTime calls you’re about to force on me. 

“You'd better answer every single one.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You pause at the passenger door, narrowing your eyes. “I will be annoying the hell out of you.”

He laughs, leaning in like he’s about to whisper a secret. “That ain’t nothin’ new, mama.”

You gasp, smacking his arm, and he just chuckles, looking so damn smug.

“Go on, now,” he murmurs, voice softer. “Gotta take care of you both.”

And that’s the part that gets you, every time.

So yeah, you let him win this round. But only because he’ll suffer more than you will. And you will be calling all the time, both out of nosiness and loneliness.

Fair’s fair.

Please be sure to comment, love, and reblog my sweet lovelies! I hope you enjoyed this short and sweet fic. I'll be tagging a few of my love bugs below.💕

Divder cred.: @firefly-graphics

Tagging (lovelies)💖:

@darqchilddaydreamz , @rio-reid-whoreee , @sunshine-flower

Your sandals hit the floor with soft clacks every time you took a step, and you got hit with that feeling of being on holiday, at peace with the world for a period of time.

He glanced up and pocketed his phone when he saw you come down, his eyes shamelessly eyeing up and down your body.

You wore a beige tube top that complimented your skin perfectly, hugging your body in the right places. You paired it with a brown denim mini skirt, your legs on full show, something Stack was down bad for. You chose a honey blonde dyed wig for today, curls neatly styled in.

He let out a whistle as you approached him, twirling you around by your hips. "Who you lookin' this good for?"

"Myself," you winked as you checked yourself out in the mirror.

"I know that's right."

Stack took your bag in one of his hands, the other reaching for yours as he opened the door, leading you to the car.

Ever the gentleman, he opened your door for you, placing your bag on your lap. Just as he was about to head to the driver's side of the cat, you held onto his bicep, prompting him to turn back to you.

"Wassup?" he tilted his head, smiling when you puckered your glossed lips. He bent down to kiss them, his free hand subconsciously sliding up to your throat. He pecked your lips three more times before he pulled away, heading to his side.

"Where are we going today?" you asked as you opened the camera app on your phone, checking your hair and makeup whilst taking some pictures.

Stack pulled out of the villa's designated parking spot, his hand around your headrest as he reversed. "To Bailey's. Smoke said he got something for us. Then we can go do whatever you want."

Bailey was a common name that you'd learnt since getting with Stack. He was one of the twins' closest friends and partner, so you were used to seeing him.

"Whatever I want?" you smirked, looking up at Stack. He looked back down at you with the same expression, nodding his head.

Music accompanied your conversation with him as he drove through the blazing heat, the breeze barely touching you even with the windows down.

Soon enough, Stack parked the car in a spot in a building complex, one you've never seen before. "Give me a second, mama," he kissed your cheek as he undid his seatbelt, leaving the car. You watched as he crossed over to the office in the parking lot, talking to the man behind the glass window.

Shortly he came back, leaning his arm above your door. "You wan' come up with me or you're good here?" He asked.

"It's okay, the air's cool down here, I'll wait for you."

Stack looked around for a moment, his eyes squinting slightly like they did whenever he was on edge. "Nah," he shook his head, opening your door and undoing your seatbelt. "I'on like leaving you alone."

See? Ever the gentleman.

You wrapped your arm through his, your handing resting firmly on his exposed bicep as he walked you through the building with familiarity.

"'Sup, J?" he dapped someone up as you walked through the double glass doors of the complex, heading for the elevator. Once in, he pressed the button for the sixth floor, standing behind you as the doors closed.

You faced the mirror on the wall of the elevator as Stack faced the doors, like he usually did when you were out together. His arm held the front of your waist as you snapped pictures til the door opened.

Stepping out, he turned to you, holding your hand in his. "We won't be too long, baby. Just gotta pick some shit up."

You nodded, happy to even be in his presence.

Once you entered an office like room, he led you to a couch just outside another set of doors. "Sit here, I'll be back in a bit. Don't talk to anyone." He adjusted his belt slightly, the piece he held peeking through his waistband.

"I won't," you rolled your eyes. Stack always thought you had a tendency to be too friendly, and that it led to a lot of problems most of the times.

"I mean it. If someone looks at you, look the other way. I can't keep letting off bullets in people's places."

You laughed as he walked away, remembering the time he let off almost a whole round in a diner because the waiter kept flirting with you, though you merely saw it as 'holding conversation'.

He was back within the next twenty minutes, a small briefcase and white envelope in his hand. "Aight, let's go baby."

Back in the car, Stack put the briefcase in the backseat. He opened the envelope once he did his seatbelt. revealing a lot of cash.

"Here," he handed it all to you after counting it.

"Huh?" you frowned, seeing that it was at least $50,000 in there. "Why are you giving me this?"

"'Cause you look pretty today," he shrugged like it was nothing, opening up your purse and shoving the stacks of money in it.

"Elias," you smiled. "You don't need to keep giving me money. Especially not for reasons like that."

"Girl, I can do what I want," he sassed back, kissing your lips before backing out of the driving spot.

He spoiled you in so many ways, it never failed to bring a smile to your face. Besides, this wasn't his first time doing it anyways. The other night after an intense session of love-making, he emptied the pockets of the joggers he wore that day, handing you about four bands, telling you to "go buy something nice."

He drove with his hand on your bare thigh, humming along to the Tupac songs playing on the radio. Your arm rested on his shoulders, manicured nails scratching gently at the nape of his neck.

"You keep doing that and I'ma park this car, right now," he glanced at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I mean," you shrugged. "You said we could do whatever I want when you're done."

“Calm down baby, you know my mama will take good care of her” Terry sat the bottles and formula on the dresser next to her bag, coming up behind you to rub his hands soothingly down your arms. You leaned back into him and you closed your eyes to take a deep breath. You couldn’t help but be anxious. This was the longest you’d be away from your baby since she was born. You knew Mrs. Richmond wouldn’t let a curl on Josie’s head be touched but your nerves were still crackling with anxiety.

“I know, ‘m just nervous” Your words were hushed as you turned to loop your arms around his waist. “I’m glad we’ll have some alone time. Maybe even get some good sleep, give the baby monitor a rest for the weekend” Terry rocked the both of you back and forth in his embrace. You hummed against him, the warmth of his body against yours making your eyes close in comfort.

Soft gurgles spilled from Josie’s mouth as she shifted positions in her crib, her noises causing you and Terry to separate. “I’ll finish packing up here. You go start the car.” You ordered Terry gently with point of your finger. He nodded dutifully, giving both you and Josie a soft kiss on the cheek.

—

“I’ll miss you babygirl” You cooed at Josie, rubbing her chubby cheek with your thumb. She nuzzled against the contact while she smiled with all her gums. “Y’all better get out of here so I can spend time with my baby” Mrs. Richmond started to usher you and Terry out the door, eager to spend time with her granddaughter. “Can’t we say bye?” Terry asked.

“No you can’t. Now get before them roads get bad.” Mrs. Richmond nodded to the window, swirls of flurries falling outside.

—

It felt weird to be in your bathroom alone. When Josie is fussy but you need to shower you bring her with you, letting her rest in her bouncer while you clean up. Terry often joins you when you’re doing your hair or taking off your makeup. You were never really alone these days, not since Josie was born. Even when she’s not with you physically her presence crackles through the baby monitor seemingly attached to your hand. You’d heard of women who become so consumed with their families that they lose themselves, but that isn’t happening to you.

Right?

All you could think about was a hot shower. Your clothes were strewn across the floor, a fabric trail leading to you standing at the sink. You pulled your braids up into a ponytail before wrapping it up in a fat bun. The counter was cold as you bent down to rest your elbows on it, filling your palms with water so you could wash your face. Before you could reach for the cleanser, your husband slid his hands around your hips.

“Can I help you sir?” You asked him through the mirror, water dripping down your neck to your chest. “Mhm, you sure can” Terry’s voice rumbling low in your ears. His strong hands rubbed over all your soft parts—stomach, hips, thighs, tits, ass. You sighed at the feeling, leaning back into him. But before you can get lost in your man, the quiet part of your mind speaks up.

You’ve never been a stranger to stretch marks, cellulite, dimples, pimples, or moles. All these things came with your figure and you had come to love them. Growing your babygirl gave you immense pride in your body and you wouldn’t trade your pregnancy experience for the world. Being a mother was wonderful journey but every journey has its ups and downs, and these postpartum stages were mostly down. The things you once loved about your body have become insecurities.

“I need to take a shower” You pressed yourself into the sink to create space between you two. “Can I join you?” Terry asks. You avoid his hand reaching for you, side stepping him and going to stand by the shower. “No, thank you baby but I got this one by myself” Your lips quirk up in an awkward smile, your hands shielding your breast and stomach from his watching eyes.

Terry frowned, the crease in the middle of his brows growing deeper as he examined your behavior. You never shy away from his touch whether it’s sexual or not. You’ve been somewhat avoidant recently. Not necessarily detached or distant but just…not the same. It was strange.

“Go lay down” Terry instructs, nodding towards the bedroom. Your mouth opened to retort but the look in Terry’s eyes made the words seep into your tongue. You obeyed wordlessly, feelings his eyes follow your every movement.

—

“Don’t look away” Terry spoke against you, mouth full of your wet pussy. His head could be seen from between your cheeks, the mirror that normally leaned on your bedroom wall now closer to the bed propped on its thin stand. Your eyes watered in pleasure as his tongue swirled around your clenching hole. The silver band of your wedding ring dug into your skin as you held onto the sheets tight.

His lips were soft against you, vibrating with his own moans as he feasted on you. “Terry baby ‘m gonna mmm fuck come” You started to grind against his face, beard tickling your mound. “I know” His words were muffled as he pulled your hips back against his face. The room around you blurred into nothing as your eyes rolled back, orgasm rolling through you with fury.

The sheets were soft on your hard nipples, the added stimulation making you cry out. You pulled yourself away from him weakly only to be pulled back. “Where you going?” He questioned. The spank Terry placed on your right ass cheek had you jolting away from him, which made him wrap his hand around the back of your neck. “Tell me where you going girl” Terry’s voice echoed in your head as you tried to focus. “Nowhere, I promise” You head shook back and forth wildly, braids falling from your bun.

Terry rubbed soothing circle on your now red ass cheek, giving you a moment to calm down. You started to bounce back on Terry’s bulge, your stickiness making his hard dick shine in the light of your bedroom. “Oh you want it now?” He teased. His hand came to hold your hips steady as he started to do the work for you. His swollen tip nudged against your clit just right, bubbles of precum decorating your flesh. You reached back to grab his dick, tired of being empty.

You fell into an arch as he found his home in your pussy. Your walls pulsated around him as if to say “welcome home.”

“Tight ass fucking pussy” He grunted from behind you, his balls resting against your clit as he bottomed out. He trapped his bottom lip between his teeth as he felt his balls start to throb. He fed you slow, deep thrusts, the slap of his thighs on yours filling the room. Goosebumps rushed over your skin with movement.

He hit all your spots with expert precision, catching your hand when you reached back to press it on his stomach. “No ma’am, this what you wanted. Be still and let me work my pussy open” He spoke, head thrown back and eyes closed. Your mind went numb with pleasure. The fat of your thighs started to jiggle as you shook, mouth open in silent moans. Each thrust stole the breath from your lungs.

“Let me tell you something” Terry wrapped a hand in your now messy hair, pulling to get you to look at him through the mirror. “Don’t you ever hide this body from me. This body carried my baby and I’ll be damned if you shamed of it” He punctuated his words with sharper thrusts making you squeal. “Tell me you’re beautiful” He demanded.

“I’m, ugh, I’m beautiful” Your words were quick, drool building up in your mouth and dribbling from the side of it. “Again, make me believe it” He responded. “I’m beautiful Terry, so beautiful” You felt yourself about to come again, walls squeezing him even tighter.

“Yes you are” Terry agreed, his own orgasm building. The sensation of you creaming around him triggered Terry’s orgasm. He continued to thrust as he spilled into you, the mixture of you two dripping onto the sheets. You fell limp onto the bed, shaking and whining at the overwhelming feeling. Terry pulled out slowly to watch his cum flow from your hole.

A warm rag was the next thing you felt on your pussy, the heat making you sigh in relief. “Don’t worry baby, I got you” Terry spoke softly, planting a kiss on your cheek.

—

————

Your elegant black Honda arrived at your home's driveway, and you let out a sigh. You glanced over the charming single-story brown-painted house, which featured seven windows. Lush green hedges trim the house corners, neatly trimmed and short. Birds sit at the tips of the branches, singing a lovely tune.

“Another day is over, thank God,” you mumbled lowly, sighing in relief.

Grabbing your keys and briefcase from the passenger seat, you pulled the door handle and stepped with a groan of exhaustion.

On your first day back from work after maternity leave, it felt like chaos with your difficult boss breathing down your neck and colleagues inquiring about your baby, Terry, and your pregnancy, draining your energy.

You spotted your mom’s car parked in the driveway, rolling your eyes. Not in the mood to talk to her about anything but you needed someone watch the baby. You had a hard time adjusting with work, the baby, and your mom stressing you out, etc. It was so overwhelming. You couldn’t wait until your husband got home.

The last time you talked to your mom was an argument about Terry, the marriage and having a baby.

Your mom wasn't too happy about finding out about your marriage and baby through your cousin Raelynn at a family reunion who found through Instagram. You blocked her and every family member that day.

She believed she had the right to question your choice to marry a former Marine, and you gazed at her with a gentle look.

This originates from your mother's negative experience with your father, a former Marine suffering from intense PTSD, who would have nightmares at night. Screaming.

It left your mom crying, praying to God that the pain would away, but it wouldn't go away. Your father was tired of the nightmares, tired of the pain.

Until one night, your dad stood alone in the backyard with his gun in his hand, he wanted the pain, and the violent memories to end. Tears rolled down his face, He aimed the gun at his end and a gunshot aired out.

After that, you and your mom did your best to keep going, she was sad about your father but never mentioned him again, she would usually say that she was finally free of it. The two of you didn’t struggle but

Terry had endured so much, from the loss of his cousin Mike after he was stabbed in jail and battling the corrupt law enforcement in Shelby Springs.

But you made it clear that Terry was different, he was quiet and reserved about being a great dad.

Mentally it took a toll on him, after the court battle and eventually winning it, it wasn't enough to bring his cousin back to Earth.

If Terry could conquer heaven’s angels and talk to God Himself, asking The Creator to bring him back. He would do that in a heartbeat.

Hell, Terry would do the same with Satan and those rotten demons, if he had the power or believed in the afterlife.

But when Terry met you at a black-owned coffee shop, for him everything changed. He had a family with you, a daughter. He wished Mike could meet the little one.

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the thoughts swirling in your mind as you stepped inside.

You opened the door and were greeted by your mom, and you responded to her.

As you made your way through the hallways into the bedroom, you tossed your briefcase onto your desk, grabbed a pen, and noted down important dates and names related to your work as an assistant in a cubicle.

Once you flopped on the bed. You heard your baby cry.

Groaning lowly, pouting your lips. You quickly raised up from the bed and hurried into the room where your mom was holding the baby in her arms. “Hello dear, how are you?,” she replied in a annoyed tone.

“I’m fine, You’re holding her incorrectly,” you shot back, flanking her immediately.

Raven’s bedroom was quite spacious, the four walls painted in chocolate brown, and white macaron cream, an armchair in the corner of the room, and her square-shaped baby bed was filled with three stuffed plushies of a star, swan and a teddy bear with smiling faces, thin blankets rested atop.

“Hello there, my beautiful girl, how are you?” You said, in a warm tone, gently taking your baby from her arms.

“Nice to see you too,” your mom shot back, her eyes softened a bit.

You and Terry were married along with your baby girl, Raven, her hazel green eyes and brown skin, her tiny curls framed her face, She was so beautiful.

Your mom mean-mugged you, arms crossed. “I raised you, I know how to hold a baby, and why the hell would you name your child Raven anyway?”

Anger boiled within you, “It’s our baby, Mom, why do you think we had a private wedding, private pregnancy, private proposal, we wanted it to be just us,” you explained to her, narrowing your gaze at her.

You gained the baby weight, your tittes got bigger and tried to work out with Terry since he was looking mighty delectable lately, he reminded that it was progress, not perfection. It didn't help that random women over the internet were lusting over your man.

But he’s all yours now, he was an amazing husband to you, a great father to the baby.

You cradled Raven close, her soft whimpers fading as you rocked her gently. In that moment, everything felt right, but the tension in the room with your mother was palpable.

"Mom, I appreciate your help, but you need to respect our choices," you said firmly, your voice steady despite the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

“Respect? You think marrying that man and having a child without telling me is respect?” she countered, her tone sharper than a knife's edge.

The baby began crying again, and you sighed. “See, you don't know what you're doing,”

You took a deep breath, fighting the urge to snap back. Instead, you focused on Raven's tiny fingers curling around yours. “He loves me, and he loves Raven. Isn’t that what matters?”

“Mhm, love this, love that,” she shot back, but the fire in her eyes dimmed just a little as she glanced at her granddaughter.

You backed away from your mom and sat down on the armchair, “Just leave me alone, I'm trying to comfort my child,” you pushed back, your tone laced with frustration.

Just then, the front door creaked open and closed shut, and there was Aaron, a breath of fresh air. Your dark brown skin shone underneath the light, your hair styled in black box braids, pulled back in a ponytail.

His tall frame filled the doorway, and you could see the weariness etched on his handsome face. His cornrows perfectly showing, his light skin shined under the light.

“Hey, my love, I'm home,” he called out, his voice wrapping around his words like a warm blanket. He pecked your forehead and your lips sweetly.

His eyes flicked toward the baby who smiled at Terry, once he picked up the baby in his arms.

Your heart swelled at the sight of him, and you felt the chaos in your mind begin to settle. As he stepped inside, you could see the way he lit up at the sight of you and Raven. “What’s going on in here?”

“Just a little family fight,” you replied, shooting your mother a pointed look.

Terry walked over, those warm eyes scanning the room before landing on you, his expression softening. “You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

You nodded, but the exhaustion was evident. “Just a bit overwhelmed. My first day back honey, you know?”

You sniffled and wiped your tears, “It is been so overwhelming lately, and i don't think that I can do this Terry, I…” your voice shaky and words stuttered, you got up and ran into the bedroom.

Terry finally put the baby to sleep, settling her in the bed, your mom followed behind the man into the bedroom.

He stepped closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and drawing you into his side. “You’re doing brilliant, babe. The world’s mad right now, but you’re handling it like a queen,” he murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Your mom huffed, crossing her arms again. “You call this handling it? She’s falling apart, Terry,.”

Terry’s gaze flicked to her, a hint of protectiveness in his stance. “And what do you know about it?” he challenged softly, but there was an underlying tension in his tone. “She’s just had a baby. This isn’t easy for any of us.”

You could feel the warmth radiate from Terry, and you leaned into him, feeling the weight of the world lift just a little. “I just wish…” you began, but the words caught in your throat.

You didn’t want to voice your insecurities, not now, not when he was trying to reassure you.

“Wish what, baby?” he prompted gently, his thumb stroking your arm soothingly.

“Nothing,” you finally said, but his eyes searched yours, and you could tell he wasn’t buying it. Your shiny wedding ring glowed brightly with the golden ring on his finger.

“Don’t lie to me, yeah? I know you better than that.” His voice was low, but it was filled with warmth and understanding.

You sighed, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I just feel so lost sometimes, Terry. I don’t know how to balance everything. I want to be a good wife, a good mother, and I feel like I’m failing.”

Tears falling down your face, crying softly. Feeling like the world was falling apart into tiny pieces.

He cupped your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. “You’re not failing. You’re doing more than enough, and I’m here, every step of the way. We’re in this together, remember?”

His words wrapped around you like a healing balm, and you felt the tension in your chest ease. “I just need you, Terry. I need you to remind me that I’m not alone in this.”

“You could never be alone with me around,” he replied, his voice a low promise. “Let’s get through this together. And if anyone tries to come for you, I’ll be right here to defend you, baby. Always.”

Terry’s eyes flickered toward your mother, “And as for you, get the hell out of our house, now,”

Your mother’s mouth fell open, made an unpleasant noise, left the room and the house, and then slammed the door. You were bursting out in laughter with your husband.

“Now that is how you snap back,” You giggled with covering your mouth.

Watching Terry gently kissed her forehead, and gently settled the baby in her bed, hearing her softly snore peacefully.

The two of you quietly walk out of her bedroom, walking through the hallways and into the spacious bedroom. You grabbed your briefcase and settled it at the corner of the room. “I’m so happy you're home,” you coaxed softly, kissing his face.

As your mother left the room, Terry’s eyes darkened slightly, a playful glint appearing. “Now that we’ve dealt with that shit, how about we focus on something a bit more…intimate?” he suggested, a smirk playing on his lips.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and the flutter in your stomach ignited. “Intimate, huh?” you teased back, your voice dropping an octave.

“Yeah, baby,” he replied, stepping closer, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve missed you, Y/N.”

“Missed me?” you echoed, your heart racing as he leaned in, his lips just inches from yours. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, baby”

He leaned in closely and kissed you tenderly, he unbuttoned your work clothes, while you helped him slide off his grey tee shirt that was drenched in sweat, his earthy yet cinnamon cologne still on him.

His full lips enveloped your nipple as his other hand kneaded and squeezed the other one; you let out a soft whimper when his fingers grazed the stretch marks on your brown skin. The curve of your ass smacked by his hand. Was this man trying to get you pregnant again? He couldn't be devious, right?

“T-Terryyy..” you whimpered softly in his ear. Your nipples were still sensitive after breastfeeding Raven last night, he fingered your pussy slowly and pulled out. “Pleaseee..”

His hands spread your legs wide apart for him, those dreamy ocean eyes of his focused on your wet pussy like he wanted to sear the image in his brain just like those damn acronyms from his service of the Marine Corps, he wished to replace each letter of it with the sound of you, taste of you, your pretty face and your back arching. “My beautiful wife,” he said with a smile, he groaned lowly, His dick jumped and twitched at the thought, he needed you so badly.

You had a small request in your mind, you had to get it out immediately. “Terry, can you be a little rougher this time?” you asked with a lip pout.

He offered a reassuring nod, a playful smirk on his face as he positioned his dick at your entrance, gently pressing the tip in. "You're already so wet for me; I love you," he said in a deep voice, prompting you to moan uncontrollably, your gaze locked on his. "I-I love you too, shit!" you exclaimed.

He leaned in to kiss the tattoo on your shoulder, then pressed his lips against yours twice more. As he pushed your legs back, he dove his dick deeper into you. "Just like that; you take me so perfectly," he continued, his eyes drawn to the mess pooling beneath you, with breast milk trickling down his chiseled abdomen. Breaking the kiss, you let out another moan as he gradually filled you, thrusting deeper with each movement. He groaned in response, the soft squelching sound resonating throughout the bedroom.

“Shhh, you should be ashamed of yourself for the mess you made on Daddy’s dick, that pussy sucks me right back in,” Terry groaned out feeling your walls latching around and pulling him in once he began to move inside you, he felt your pussy pulsate onto him, that little heartbeat kept him fucking you deeply, “So fuckin’ tight, that’s my girl..” he praised deeply.

Right, your baby was still sleeping peacefully, you couldn't risk that yet you were on the verge of giving her another sibling right now, you kissed him sloppily again, while he kissed you back passionately.

“Apologize,” He demanded with that deep voice of his, his fingers pinched your sensitive nipples again and milk dripped from them. Your legs shaking at an overwhelming sensation.

Terry gives you long deep strokes while sucking on your nipple torturously, “I-I’m sorry Daddy, I-I can't help it…you’re j-just s-so big,” you babbled with a raspy moan, tears burned through your eyes, hearing him slurp and swallow your milk as his hips swiveling, wetting his dick up. Was this man trying to fuck and suck the life out of you? He was!

Thankfully, your baby was sound asleep in the room opposite yours, and you couldn't afford to disturb her after Terry had JUST gotten her to sleep. However, Terry had incredible stamina; thankfully, your evening workouts with him prepared you, or you would have been exhausted from this.

You managed to match him in the bedroom and were almost on the verge of giving her another sibling; your hand flew to your mouth and your eyes rolled back as he increased his speed. “I love it when this dick is inside me, fill me up so good babyy..” You moaned wildly, biting your lip, rolling your hips with him.

Terry’s hushed grunts and groans were deep and slightly raspy, biting down on his sexy lips, he watched your pussy make his dick disappear as he went in and out. “Mhmm, Such a needy little thing for this dick, aren't you?" he trailed off, smirking.

A sharp gasp for air escaped you, from the feeling of his thighs rubbing against yours, “Yesss,” the brief tap of his balls hitting your clit made you scream as if you were dying, pelvis meeting at your ass and breast milk poured out after jagged sloppy thrusts, “ it was charged with heat as Terry picked up his pace, his thrusts growing more fervent. “Oh..my..fuck!” you muffled your moan, eyes rolling back, nails digging into his back.

Terry’s hand rubbed your stomach in circles, thinking of filling you up with his warm cum, making you pregnant again but he couldn't do that. You were already stressed out with everything that was going on, but the way you called out to him and your pussy gripped him tight, made him want to give you a boy. Nah, it wouldn't be right. Bad Terry, be good.

Wait, the bed was creaking under both of you, your hand tapped his neck three times, that was the sign to stop with your consent and Terry stopped immediately, breaking his thoughts, His head lifted to look at you with genuine concern, “The bed is too loud, it might wake up Raven,” you whispered to him.

With that, his hands slid to your thighs, holding them firmly as Terry swiftly hoisted you up in a front-facing piggyback, your arms encircling his neck. feeling his tip kiss your cervix repeatedly. “Terry, fuck, the noises..” you mumbled out, referring to the wet noises of his dick being swallowed up by your pussy. He loved every bit of this, pleasure flowed through both of you.

Terry chuckled darkly, gazing into your pleasure-filled teary eyes, relishing in them falling down on your face, your back arched in the air as if on cue. “You know we have no control over this baby, you hear that shit?” Terry said in a deeper tone, your nipples rubbed onto his, and milk spilled down his chiseled chest and onto his dick. His tongue gliding on your nipple again while gazing at you lovingly.

You were quickly climbing that familiar peak, every thrust felt deeper making you go dumb and dizzy, laying your head onto his shoulder, “T-Terry, I'm close, i’m on the pill,” you managed to gasp out, your body trembling beneath him.

“Good, come with me, Y/N, let me feel everything,” he encouraged, his breath warm against your skin as he leaned down to capture your lips sloppy again. “Fuck me till we both can't move,” you requested, “Your wish is my command,” he said, The kisses were passionate, and nasty with spit chains connecting and reconnecting between his plump lips and yours, he felt so damn good, you wanted to feel him.

His hips stuttered and twitched, and Terry’s merciless thrusts turned sporadic into you, your screams became loud and he moaned deeply, “You sound sexy Terry..” you groaned out, loving his raspy moans, you felt your body coil tightly before the dam broke.

You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the room as you came undone around him. Your walls squeezed him tightly, essence spilled onto his thick dick, and the sensation pushed him over the edge as well. Wet noises and sloppy kissing were halted and remained silent.

Terry spilled his warm jets of cum inside of you, filling you up while your essence poured out your pussy, mixing with his cum, your breast milk dripped onto the floor, creating pools in between you. Your bodies shaking weakly together and flinch against each other after every move, “W-we really came together baby..” you babbled lazily.

After a moment of blissful silence, you both melted against each other, hearts racing and panting. You could still hear the faint sounds of Raven’s peaceful breathing from across the hall, and he gently laid you on your back on the bed, he pulled out of you, seeing his cum spill out of your pussy.

Terry brushed a few loose strands of braids from your face, his expression softening. “You okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes as he studied you.

“More than okay,” you replied, a smile breaking through the remnants of your exhaustion. “I needed that.”

“Now, let’s get cleaned up before the baby wakes up,” he said, his tone teasing as he helped you off the bed. Terry carried you into the bathroom, he cleaned up the mess in the bedroom and prepared a hot bath for both of you.

Terry got into the foamy warm spacious huge bath with you, sitting across from you while your back lay against the back pillow on the white marble tile, the warm water enveloped you both. Its soothing touch eases the ache in your body, thighs, pussy, everywhere.

You leaned back, letting out a contented sigh as you watched Terry relax across from you. His strong arms rested on the edge of the tub, the water and lights above glistening on his skin.

“You feeling better baby girl? Just us for a moment,” he said, a playful smile on his gorgeous face.

“Yeah, I am, I missed this, I needed this from Terry,”

Terry’s gaze softened, and he leaned closer, the water sloshing gently around you both, “You know I'll always be here for you, right? No matter how chaotic things get?”

You nodded, feeling a wave of gratitude flow through you. “ I do, I just need to remember that sometimes. It's easy to get lost in everything,”

He reached out, his hand resting against your cheek. “Remember you can't be everything all at once, only yourself. You're doing amazing and Raven? She’s lucky to have you,”

“You know how to make me feel better Terry,” You replied with a warm smile, kissing his lips sweetly before pulling away.

“It’s what I’m here for,” he said with a reassuring tone, his lips pressed onto your forehead tenderly.

Both of you washed yourselves squeaky clean and dried off using the towels, getting dressed in Terry’s tee purple shirt, he slid on his grey sweatpants and got into bed, his wrapped around you protectively, both of you drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

You never expected to fall in love with a man behind bars. It started as nothing more than a random click—some late-night curiosity fueled by boredom and an ad that popped up between Facebook posts. Find love where you least expect it. Meet single men looking for companionship. You damn near scrolled past it, but something made you stop. Maybe it was the way the words “love” and “companionship” stood out, teasing something you didn’t realize you were craving. Maybe it was just the boredom, the same mundane routine of work, home, sleep, repeat, stretching on like a treadmill you couldn’t step off. Either way, you clicked. Scrolling through the profiles felt like flipping through a catalog you had no business browsing. Men of all ages and backgrounds, some looking for friendship, others for love. But none of them caught your attention. That is—until you saw him. Inmate 07541, Terrance Richmond. Baby, that mugshot stopped you cold. Rich buttery light caramel skin, sharp jawline, and full lips that looked like they could whisper secrets straight into your soul. His nose was strong, his features chiseled, but it was those damn piercing uniquely colored eyes that did it. Deep-set, hooded, with a stare so intense you could feel it through the screen. Something about them made your heart stutter—like he was looking at you, past you, into you. There was no forced smile, no tough-guy posturing. Just that stare. You hesitated, hovering over the message button. What the hell were you doing? Messaging a man serving time? A man who, according to his bio, had been locked up since he was 18? Still, curiosity won. You typed out a casual introduction—something light, something safe—and hit send. Then you pushed it to the back of your mind, fully expecting no response, but he wrote back. And not just some half-assed, one-line reply. He wrote you back.

That first message turned into another. And another. Emails became long letters, paragraphs bleeding into pages, until you found yourself rushing home from work just to see his name in your inbox. You learned everything about him—the way he used to play football before his life changed, the music he listened to, the books he read to escape the four walls of his cell. He told you about his past, the pain, the betrayal, the night everything changed. And you told him about yours—how life felt like it was happening at you instead of for you. How you wanted more, but you didn’t know what more even looked like. Then came the sweet video calls. The first time you saw him move, saw that sharp jaw flex when he smiled, heard that deep, velvety voice rumble straight through the screen—you were done. Hooked. Gone. Two years later, here you were. In a relationship—a real one, even if nobody knew. And in a few days, he’d be free. And that? That scared you more than anything.

“You always got an excuse, girl. What is tea?”Sonya’s voice snapped you back to the present, and you blinked, realizing your fork had been hovering over your plate for way too long. It was lunchtime at Taste Of The South Cafe, your usual Friday spot with the girls. The table was cluttered with half-empty margarita glasses, plates of fried catfish and mac and cheese, and the scent of honey butter croissants floating in the air. Normally, this was your escape from the monotony of work. But today? You were ready to go.

“I just wanna relax,” You half way lied, pushing your food around. Sonya wasn’t buying it. Neither was Deja.

“Girl, please,” Deja scoffed. “Every time we plan a girls’ night, your ass come up with something. What’s up? You sneakin’ around with somebody?”

“Ain’t nobody sneakin’.” You forced a laugh, shaking your head. 

“Then why you always rushin’ home like you got a man waitin’ on you?” Sonya arched a brow, swirling her margarita.

“Because I do.” You thought to yourself. But you didn’t say that. Instead, you shrugged, hoping they’d let it go. They didn’t.

“You sure it ain’t that new dude in accounting?” Deja pressed. “The one with the Audi and the beard? Girl, he is fine.”

“Not my type,” You said quickly.

Sonya snorted. “And what is your type? Because last time I checked, you were single as hell.”

You just smiled, keeping your real thoughts locked up tight. Because your type wasn’t something you could explain to them. Your type wasn’t sitting in an office, making six figures, and posting gym selfies on Instagram. Your type was locked behind bars. A man who had spent more of his life inside than out. A man whose voice alone made your thighs clench, whose absence felt like a missing limb. But they wouldn’t get that. So you just laughed it off, switched the subject, and counted down the hours until you could talk to him. The day dragged. By the time you made it to your car, your feet were aching, your patience was shot, and you were tired. But none of that mattered. Because in just a few minutes, he’d be calling. The drive home was full of bumper-to-bumper traffic and the usual call from your mama.

“Hey ma” You greeted, honking the car in front of you to move their ass. 

“Hey my baby. You comin’ to dinner this weekend?” She asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.” You make a face, thanking god she can’t see you.

“Good. Your sister’s bringing her fiancé.” She said, her tone laced with excitement. Of course, she was. Your older sister had the picture-perfect life—a man, a ring, a timeline that fit neatly into the family’s expectations.

“And he’s bringing his brother,” You mother added casually.

You sighed. “Ma—”

“Just be open-minded! You’re a beautiful girl, and you ain’t gettin’ any younger.” She reminded for the hundredth time. You gritted your teeth, gripping the steering wheel. If only she knew. But you decided to let it go. 

“I’ll see you Saturday.” You shook your head, hanging up.By the time you got home, it was 6:59pm. You barely had time to drop your purse before your phone lit up with that Incoming Call from your ‘Big Daddy’. You squealed, feeling your heart flip. 

You snatched it up, answering with a smile. “Hey, baby.”

“Damn, I needed to hear your voice.” A low chuckle rumbled through the speaker, deep enough to send heat pooling between your thighs. 

You melted instantly. “Long day?”

“Long as hell,” He sighed. “But I knew I’d be hearin’ from you, so I got through it.”

Your chest tightened. “I missed you.”

“Yeah? I missed you more baby” He smirked. You could hear it in his voice. “Tell me about your day, baby.”

So you did. You told him everything—lunch with your nosy-ass friends, your mama trying to set you up. And he listened quietly like always when it came to your day and what crazy ass story you had ready for him. That was one of the many things you loved about Terry, how he could just listen and never get tired of you talking. 

“Don’t sweat that shit, baby. You got a man.” He chuckled, low and smooth. That possessiveness made your toes curl.

“Yeah?” you teased. “I got a man?”

“Hell yeah,” He murmured. “And in a few days, you gon’ have me in every way possible.”

Your breath hitched and your body got hot. Because in just a few days, Terry Richmond would be free. And you would finally be his.  You adjusted the phone against your ear, stretching out on the couch, letting his voice roll over you like thick honey.

“You talkin’ real reckless, Mr. Terrance,” you teased, biting your lip. “What makes you think you gettin’ all this good good so easy?”

A deep, knowing chuckle rumbled through the receiver, sending shivers down your spine. “Baby,” He drawled, voice rich and slow like he was savoring every syllable. “Don’t play wit’ me. You and I both know the second I touch down, I’ma have you laid out for me, just how I like it.”

“Oh yeah?” Your thighs pressed together at the promise in his tone.

“Hell yeah. First thing I’m doin’ is spreadin’ them thighs, makin’ up for lost time. You know I been starvin’ for you. Ain’t had a taste of sweet pussy in years. I need my plate, ma.” He stated, making your breath hitch and heat coil in your lower belly. 

“Terry…” You breathed, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Say my name just like that when I’m between them legs,” He murmured. “Matter fact, scream it. I’ma put my mouth on every inch of you. Them thighs? Mine. Them hips? Mine. That spot you say makes you weak right under your belly button? I’m kissin’ it first. And you already know where I’m endin’ up.”

Your body responded to his words instantly, your nipples tightening against the fabric of your blouse. The ache between your thighs grew unbearable. You were so tempted to rub on your clit as he talked to you, but you knew big daddy’s rules. You weren’t allowed to touch yourself at all unless he gave the permission and could listen to you without any interruptions. 

“You talkin’ crazy,” You whispered, your voice thick with need.

“Nah, baby, I’m talkin’ facts. You gon’ see. Soon as I get out, you ain’t leavin’ that bed for at least three days.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, so I’m just gonna be held hostage?” You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers toying with the hem of your skirt.

“Damn right,” He said without hesitation. “Ain’t no way I been locked up this long just to finally get my hands on you and let you go. Shit, you gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe.”

Your stomach flipped. You wanted that. Needed that. But then, reality settled back in. The system didn’t make things easy.

“Speaking of that…What did your lawyer say about your release date? Will you be out on my birthday like we want?” You exhaled, shifting the phone closer to your ear. It was silence for a moment. The weight of it pressed heavy between you, thick and uncertain. You held your breath preparing for the worst case scenario possible. 

“They still pushin’ for my original release date, but you know how this shit go. Paperwork, red tape, all that. My lawyer confident, though. He say if everything lines up, I should be out right on time. Maybe even a couple days before.” Terry let out a slow breath.

“For real?” Your chest tightened with cautious hope. 

“For real, baby. But…” He hesitated. “You know they been tryin’ to trip me up in here. COs, some of these jealous-ass inmates. They know I’m close to freedom, and they hate that shit. I gotta keep my head low, stay out the way, but it’s hard sometimes. Real hard.”

“They still on that bullshit?” Your jaw clenched.

“Yeah,” He muttered. “They hate a nigga like me gettin’ a second chance. And these lame ass inmates tryna set me up don’t help either.”

“Terry, I swear to God if they—”You closed your eyes, frustration bubbling inside you.

“Relax, mama,” He said, voice dropping into that deep, soothing register that always made you weak. “Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I promise you that. I done made it through too much to let these motherfuckers take my freedom again.”

“Baby, please promise me you won’t do nothin’ to mess this up. I need you here. I need you home.” You frowned, Terry remained silent allowing you to vent because he knew this was becoming harder everyday for you to cope with. You swallowed hard, throat tight.

“I just…” You hesitated, then admitted softly, “I just need you here. I don’t want anything messin’ this up. My 28th birthday… Terry, all I want is you.”

“I know, ma. Trust me, I know.” His voice softened, turning serious. “You the only thing keepin’ me sane in here. The only thing keepin’ me goin’. I promise you, I ain’t lettin’ nothin’ get in the way of me comin’ home to you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.” You inhaled deeply, letting his words settle over you. 

“You got me for life baby,” He said assuring you, voice thick with emotion. “I swear to you, baby. If I gotta fight every damn day until that judge signs my release, I’ma do it. ‘Cause you worth it. We worth it.”

“You better mean that,” You whispered. Tears pricked your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“I do. And when I’m finally out, when I got you in my arms, I’ma make sure you never question that again.”

“I love you so much.” You exhaled shakily.

“I love you more, baby.” He bit his lip, feeling his heart speed up. 

“You swear you gonna come home to me, Terry?” You exhaled, stretching your legs out on the couch, your free hand absently trailing over your bare thigh. 

“Baby, listen to me.” His voice came through the receiver, deep and unwavering. “I need you to hear me when I say this. Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ me from comin’ home to you. I done wasted enough years locked up, dreamin’ about what it feel like to be free, to wake up next to a woman who actually give a damn about me. I ain’t lettin’ no CO, no hating-ass inmate, no system take that from me.”

You closed your eyes, soaking in his words. A small tear escaped your eyes as you just let him talk and calm all of your fears. 

“And you really think I’m about to let you be out here spendin’ another birthday without me? Nah, ma. That ain’t happenin’.” He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Matter fact, you should start gettin’ ready now, ‘cause soon as I step through that door, I’m givin’ you somethin’ to celebrate.”

“Oh yeah? What you givin’ me, Terry?” A slow smile spread across your lips. 

“Ain’t it obvious? My last name, first of all.” He stated matter of factly. 

“Boy, stop playin’.” Your breath caught in your throat.

“Who playin’?” He challenged. “You really think I been doin’ all this talkin’, dreamin’ about you, makin’ plans, just to be out here on some casual shit? Nah, baby. You my woman. And when I get home, I’m puttin’ a ring on that pretty lil’ finger. You ain’t gon’ be nobody else’s but mine.”

Heat spread through your chest, settling deep in your belly. He always had a way of making you feel claimed, but this? This was different. This felt all too real and that he was promising you the moon and the stars and would actually reach up in the damn sky and get it for you. 

“Terry…” You purred slightly. 

“Say it again,” He murmured, voice dropping to that low, dangerous octave that always did something to you. “Say my name just like that.”

“Terry.” Your lips parted, slowing your words down for him. 

“Mmm,” He groaned. “That’s what I wanna hear every morning, every night. That’s what I wanna hear when I’m makin’ love to you, when I’m in it so deep you forget how to say anything else.”

“You tryna kill me, huh?” You sucked in a breath, your thighs pressing together instinctively. 

“Nah, ma. Just tryna remind you who you belong to.” He smirked, licking his lips. 

You chewed your lip, heart pounding against your ribs. The thought of him finally being here, of feeling him, touching him, owning him in the flesh—it was almost too much.

“Terry…” You started, voice soft, hesitant.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He adjusted the phone on his ear, eyebrows furrowing. You hesitated a moment afraid to tell him what’s really been on your mind. Afraid he wouldn’t understand but truth was Terry was more than understanding when it came to you. 

“I just… I keep thinking about what’s gonna happen once you’re really here. Like, when it’s not just phone calls and emails. When it’s real. When it’s us.” You honestly confessed, sighing. You heard a brief pause making your stomach tighten out of angst. You held your breath afraid he’d be upset but after a few seconds, he then spoke gently. 

”That’s what you scared of?” He asked, voice soft. 

You swallowed. “Not scared, just… it’s gonna be different. You been inside since you were 18, Terry. That’s—” You did the math in your head, stomach twisting. “Seventeen years. That’s a long time.”

“I know,” He said simply. “You think I don’t know that? Every damn day, I been countin’ down to this moment. I know it’s gon’ be an adjustment. I ain’t naive to that, baby. But what I do know is that I want this. You. I ain’t spent two years fallin’ in love with you for nothin’. And I damn sure ain’t finna let somethin’ as small as a transition period shake me.”

You exhaled, nodding even though he couldn’t see you. “I just want you to be happy, Terry.”

“I am happy, ma. You make me happy.” He professed from his heart, making your heart squeeze and stomach flutter. 

“Now,” He continued, voice laced with that familiar hunger. “Can we get back to what I was sayin’? ‘Cause I still got a whole list of things I plan to do to you soon as I get out.”

“Oh yeah? Go ‘head then, baby. I’m listenin’.” Your stomach flipped.

Terry exhaled through the receiver, the sound slow and deliberate. “Aight, so… First thing I’m doin’ soon as I step through that door? I’m droppin’ my bag, pullin’ you close, and kissin’ you like I been starvin’ for it.”

“Mmmm.” You bit your lip, already picturing the scene.

“Ain’t gon’ be no soft, sweet shit neither. Nah,” He rumbled. “I’m talkin’ about deep, wet, tongue all in your mouth, my hands locked around that waist, pullin’ you so tight you feel my dick pressin’ up against you.”

“Damn, Big Daddy. Can I at least take my heels off first?” You let out a breathy laugh.

“Hell nah,” He said smoothly. “Matter fact, leave ‘em on. I want you just like that. Fresh off work, tight lil’ skirt ridin’ up, them pretty ass legs wrapped ‘round my waist while I pin you up against the door.”

“Oh shit..” Your entire body heated at the image. You had to fan yourself, and cross your legs to avoid any wetness seeping out. 

“You know how long I been dreamin’ about that, baby?” His voice dropped an octave, turning into something dark, possessive. “Seventeen years. Seventeen years I been locked in this hellhole, surrounded by nothin’ but concrete and steel, knowin’ I ain’t got a real woman to touch, to taste, to claim. And then you came along…”

“B-Baby..” A soft gasp slipped from your lips. You squeezed your thighs shut tighter, already soaking your panties. 

“And now all I can think about is how you gon’ feel underneath me. How soft your skin is. How good you smell. How sweet you taste.” He growled lowly in your ear. 

“Shit.” You cursed, shifting on the couch, thighs pressing together.

“Mmm,” He hummed knowingly. “You wet for me, ain’t you?”

“Terry—” You swallowed.

“Nah, don’t try to play it off now,” He interrupted. “I know you, ma. I know you sittin’ there, grippin’ that phone tight, breathin’ all heavy, body heatin’ up just listenin’ to me talk. I don’t even need to be there to know how bad you want me.”

“You lucky you locked up.” You let out a shaky breath, tilting your head back against the couch. 

“Lucky? Nah, baby. Unlucky. ‘Cause if I was home right now, I’d have you laid out, ass up, back arched, moanin’ my name so loud the neighbors call the cops.”He chuckled, voice dripping with amusement.

“Boy, stop!” You laughed, shaking your head. “You talk all that shit, I hope you got the stamina to back it up.”

Terry clicked his tongue. “Oh, you doubtin’ me? That’s crazy. Lemme find out my baby think I ain’t gon’ put in work.”

“I mean, it has been a long time, Big Papa,” You teased.

“Aight,” He drawled, tone dangerous. “Keep playin’ with me. You gon’ be beggin’ me to let you breathe when I’m done with you.”

Your stomach flipped at the way he said it, so smooth and confident like he had zero doubt in his ability to back up every single word. The next few hours passed in a blur, the two of you tangled in conversation like it was your own little world. Terry told you about the meals he was craving—real food, not that processed mess they served on metal trays. He wanted collard greens, mac and cheese, cornbread, fried chicken, all made by you. “I need a home-cooked meal, baby. Something made with love,” He said, his voice full of longing. You laughed and promised to have a whole spread waiting for him. Then the conversation shifted to the small things—how he couldn’t wait to sleep in a real bed, how he wanted to go outside at night just to feel the wind on his face without fences in the way, how he wanted to sit on the couch with you and watch a movie with your legs draped over his lap. “Shit like that, ma,” He murmured. “The simple stuff. That’s what I miss the most.”

And you listened, hanging onto his every word, feeling your heart swell with each confession. The world had taken so much from him, stripped him of so many years, but somehow, he still had softness in him. He still had love to give. You found yourself telling him about all the things you wanted to do together, too—how you wanted to take him out to eat at a real restaurant, go on a drive late at night just because, lay up with him on a Sunday morning while the smell of breakfast filled the apartment. The more you talked, the more the reality of him coming home settled deep inside you. “You really gon’ take care of me, huh?” he asked, his voice low and full of something tender. “You damn right,” you whispered. “Somebody gotta make up for all that time you lost.”

If someone had told you years ago that you’d fall in love with a man behind bars, you would’ve laughed in their face. You always wanted love, prayed for it even, but you never imagined it would come in the form of Terry Richmond—a man with a past heavier than most, a man who had seen the worst parts of life and still found a way to hold onto his soul. He was the most fascinating, most alluring man you’d ever known, and you had never been more open with anyone in your life. You craved him in ways that scared you sometimes. You wanted to be the one to feed him, to run him a hot bath and wash years of struggle off his skin. You wanted to rub his shoulders, his chest, his back, to remind him that he was human, that he was home. And the way he talked to you, the way he poured into you, made you feel like you were already his sanctuary.

After you finally got off the phone, you moved into your nighttime routine, taking your time washing your face, patting your skin dry, smoothing your serums in like a ritual. You stared at yourself in the mirror, thinking about how your life was about to change. In just a few days, he’d be here, in your space, in your bed, in your life outside of those prison walls. As you reached for your bonnet and wrapped it securely around your head, your phone buzzed on the counter. FaceTime. Mama. You sighed, knowing she’d scold you if you didn’t answer, so you slid your thumb across the screen and propped the phone up.

“Hey, Mama,” You greeted, already bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” She said, peering at you through the screen. “Just callin’ to say goodnight and check on you before you went to bed.”  

“I’m alright , Mama. Just gettin’ ready for bed. Doing my usual routine.” You smiled. 

“Mm-hmm,” She hummed, then her face lit up. “Oh! Guess who I ran into today? You remember Kiana Perkins from high school?”

You frowned, digging through your memory. “Kiana Perkins… oh yeah, the one who used to run track?”

“Yes, her! Baby, she married now, got two babies, livin’ all happy with her husband. She showed me pictures and everything. And I just… I don’t know, baby, it got me thinkin’.” She started in on you. 

“Mama—” You groaned internally.

She held up a hand. “I know what you ‘bout to say, but hear me out. You not gettin’ any younger, baby. I just want you to have somebody. You always been my dumplin’, my soft-hearted baby, and I just—” She sighed. “I just want you to be loved, baby. I want somebody to take care of you for once.”

You bit your lip, heart squeezing at her words, but she didn’t know. She didn’t know that you did have somebody. That you had Terry. That soon, you wouldn’t be coming home to an empty bed anymore. You leaned back against the bathroom counter, swallowing the lump in your throat as your mother continued, her voice full of concern. 

“You know, I just don’t want you to end up like me, raising a family all on your own. You’ve got so much to offer, baby, don’t let it go to waste.” She paused, waiting for you to respond, but you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions. You wanted to tell her the truth, but you couldn’t—not yet. Terry was still behind those walls, and the world wasn’t ready for your truth. Not yet.

“I hear you, Mama,” You said softly, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “But I’m good. I’m happy with how things are right now.”

She eyed you, her brow furrowing, but she didn’t push it. “Alright,” she finally said, her tone softening. “Just don’t wait too long, baby. Time don’t wait for nobody.”

“I won’t, Mama. Promise,” You replied, though you knew the promise wasn’t to her. It was to yourself. You weren’t going to waste any more time. The conversation moved on, and you couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for not telling her about Terry. She didn’t know that every night, you fell asleep with thoughts of him, that his voice had become the lullaby you never knew you needed. You thought about his touch, his words, the way he made you feel like you were the only woman in the world. But for now, it was a secret. Your secret. You wrapped up the call with your mother, promising to be at Sunday dinner over the weekend, and hung up. The air felt thick now, like the weight of your own desires had settled in your chest. You finished getting ready for bed, your mind racing with thoughts of Terry, wondering if he was thinking about you too, wondering how much longer you’d have to wait before he was finally home. As you slipped under the

covers, your mind drifted to your happy place and that was Terry. Eventually after saying a quick silent prayer for him and his safety like you did every night, you finally went to sleep. 

The morning light seeped through the blinds, casting long golden streaks across your bedroom. You lay there for a moment, tangled in your silk sheets, staring at the ceiling with a heavy mind. The anticipation sat on your chest like a weight. Today could be the day you got answers—real answers—about Terry’s release. No more guesswork, no more waiting in limbo. Either he’d be home in time for your birthday, or he wouldn’t. And if it was up to you, there wouldn’t be a wouldn’t. Your phone vibrated on the nightstand, shaking you from your thoughts. The number was unfamiliar, but you knew who it had to be before you even swiped to answer.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy, thick with sleep, but there was an urgency beneath it.

“Good morning, this is Michael Walker, Terry Richmond’s attorney.” The voice on the other end was smooth, professional, but you caught that slight edge—like he was bracing himself for a conversation you might not want to have. “I wanted to give you an update on his case. Do you have a moment?”

“Of course. What’s the update?” You pushed yourself upright, resting your back against the headboard.

Michael exhaled. “So here’s where we are. We’re still waiting on the judge’s final decision regarding his release. As you know, we’ve been pushing hard for full release instead of parole, but the system moves at its own pace. Right now, it’s looking like one of two things will happen—either the judge will sign off on his release, and he’ll be free to come home, or he’ll be granted parole with conditions.”

Your stomach twisted at the word “conditions.” That could mean anything. A curfew. Mandatory check-ins. Restrictions on where he could go, what he could do. You wanted Terry free—not still tangled in the system’s web.

“Is there a chance he’ll be home by my birthday?” You asked, your voice smaller than you intended.

Michael hesitated. That damn hesitation. You hated it. “That’s what we’re aiming for,” He said finally. “But it’s all in the judge’s hands. We’re doing everything we can to make it happen, but we need to be realistic.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “I just… I need him home.” The words left you before you could stop them, more vulnerable than you wanted to sound.

“I get it,” Michael said, and for the first time, there was something softer in his tone. “But here’s the thing—you need to make sure Terry understands how important it is for him to stay in line right now. He’s close. So damn close. But if he gets into it with the COs, if he so much as breathes wrong in there, it could delay everything. Or worse.”

A lump formed in your throat. Terry had been through hell in that prison. You knew how hard it was for him to bite his tongue, to play the game when the guards disrespected him just for breathing. You also knew how much some of those inmates hated to see another Black man about to touch freedom. Envy was a dangerous thing.

“I’ll talk to him,” You said firmly. “I’ll make sure he knows.”

“Good,” Michael replied. “I’ll keep you posted on any updates. Until then, just keep him focused on what’s waiting for him on the outside.”

And that’s exactly what you planned to do. Because he was coming home. To you. To the life y’all had spent two years dreaming up. And you weren’t about to let anything or anyone take that away. The weight of everything that needed to be done before Terry came home sat on your shoulders like a mix of excitement and pressure. There was so much to prepare, so much to buy, so much to perfect before your man walked through that door and took his rightful place in your life. Clothes, toiletries, shoes, cologne—he was stepping into a world he hadn’t been a part of since he was barely legal, and you were determined to make sure he had everything he needed to start fresh. And then there was you. Your own upkeep was just as important. You wanted to look good good for him. A fresh Brazilian wax so your skin was baby smooth, eyebrows snatched, lashes full and fluttery, and your hair? Oh, that had to be flawless—not just for your birthday but because you already knew he was going to have it all over the place by the end of the night. You could already hear the headboard knocking, already feel his breath on your skin, already picture the way he’d grip you like he was making up for lost time. The thought alone made your stomach tighten with anticipation.

But beyond all the surface-level preparation, there was a deeper feeling swirling inside you. Letting a man you’d only seen through a screen and heard through a receiver move into your home was a huge step. Some would call it crazy. Hell, a part of you knew it was risky, but love had never been about playing it safe. And with Terry? It had never felt like a risk. It felt right. He was your soulmate—plain and simple. The man you wanted to

wake up to, fall asleep with, build a family with. You’d spent two years loving him from a distance, and now, you were stepping into a reality where he was yours in every way. You weren’t naive to the adjustments that would come with it, but you also weren’t afraid. He was worth it.

With a stretch and a soft sigh, you finally pulled yourself out of bed, the silk of your nightgown clinging to your curves as you padded across your bedroom. It barely covered your ass, the hem rising with each step, and you lazily reached for your robe, wrapping it around you before making your way into the kitchen. The house was still, quiet, but soon, it would be filled with his presence. Him walking around shirtless, his deep voice filling up every room, his scent lingering on the furniture. You couldn’t wait. As you reached for the fridge, your eyes landed on the Polaroid photo of him taped to the door—one of the few glimpses of him outside of a call or a video chat. He had sent it during one of the rare inmate photo days, his expression serious but his eyes still burning with something that made your stomach flip. Damn, you fine. You ran a finger over the image, smiling to yourself before pulling out the eggs and milk.

The one thing people probably wouldn’t understand was why you had never visited him in prison. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. God knew you had begged to. But Terry? Terry was territorial to his core. It had taken months of back-and-forth, of pleading and arguing, before you finally accepted that he wasn’t going to let you step foot in that visiting room. He didn’t want no prison guards or inmates looking at his woman—studying you, lusting after you, imagining things about you that only he was allowed to. You belonged to him, and the thought of other men—especially those locked up with him—laying their eyes on you sent him into a rage he didn’t even try to hide. It wasn’t just possessiveness; it was protection. He had seen too many things go left in that place, and the last thing he wanted was for you to be a part of any of it. So, you let it go, trusting that the day would come when you wouldn’t have to love him from a distance. That day was almost here.

You were in the middle of whisking the batter for your waffles when your phone vibrated on the counter. Without hesitation, you snatched it up, already knowing who it was.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Terry’s deep, raspy voice sent a warmth down your spine. His morning voice was dangerous.

“Mmm, good morning, baby,” You hummed, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder as you continued mixing. “How’d you sleep?”

“Would’ve slept better with you underneath me,” He murmured, the smirk in his tone evident. “What my baby got planned for today?”

You bit your lip, smiling. “Just a quick Target and BJ’s run to stock the house up for you, then I gotta get my nails done. Oh, and I gotta swing by the post office to pick up my bundles that came in.”

He chuckled, low and knowing. “Mmm, you tryna get fine for Big Daddy?”

“Mmhmm.” You giggled, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.

“Damn, girl…” His voice dropped a little lower, and you could almost see him licking his lips on the other end. “Ima eat that pussy like crazy, baby girl.”

Your breath hitched, a heat sparking between your thighs. “Terry!” You squealed, laughing. “Stop being nasty!”

“Nah, I’m deadass serious.” His tone was dark, full of hunger. “You don’t even know what you got coming.”

You took a steadying breath, trying to shake off the goosebumps crawling up your skin. “Listen, nasty man, we need to talk.” Your tone shifted, getting serious. “Your attorney called me this morning. We need to discuss what he told me.”

“What he say?” There was a pause before he answered with a serious tone. 

You exhaled. “Baby…” You gripped the phone tighter, staring at the batter as if it had the answers. “It’s about your release.”

Terry was silent for a moment, and you could feel the shift in his energy through the phone. That easy, teasing tone from before was gone, replaced by something heavier—something cautious.

“What about it?” His voice was lower now, tight with restraint.

You sighed, setting the whisk down and gripping the edge of the counter. “He said they’re still waiting on the judge to sign off, and it could go either way. Either parole or full release.” You paused, running your tongue over your lips. “I asked if you’d be home by my birthday, and he said that’s what they’re pushing for, but the judge has to approve it first and it appears the judge is taking their sweet ass time. Same shit you told me last night.” 

“Man… I been waiting years for this moment. If they try to stall this shit…” Terry sucked his teeth, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“Baby, don’t even put that energy in the air,” You cut in quickly, gripping the phone. “It’s gonna happen. You just gotta hold tight.”

“I’m tryna hold tight, ma, but you don’t understand. I been locked down since I was eighteen. Half my life. I done played by they rules, kept my nose clean, did everything I was supposed to do. And now, when it’s finally my time to touch down, they wanna drag they feet?” His frustration was raw, and you didn’t blame him one bit.

“That’s why we gotta be smart about this,” You soothed, lowering your voice. “Your attorney said you need to walk a fine line, Terry. These COs and some of them inmates? They don’t want to see you win, baby. You getting out means they lose power over you. And if you let ‘em get under your skin, if you give them any reason to stall this—”

“I know, baby,” He gritted, cutting you off. “I ain’t stupid.”

“I never said you were,” You softened, biting your lip. “But you know they’ll do anything to keep a black man locked up. You know that. You can’t afford to slip.”

Another deep sigh. “I just wanna be with you, ma,” He admitted, his voice quieter now, the vulnerability cutting through all the frustration. “That’s all I been holding on to. You. Us. The life we ‘bout to have.”

“And you will be with me, Terry. Soon. I promise.” Your heart clenched, and you closed your eyes for a second.

“You the only thing keeping me sane right now, baby,” He muttered. “You really are.”

“And you the only man I want. Ain’t nothing gon’ change that.” You swallowed hard, that warmth creeping back into your chest.

He went quiet for a beat, then, “Damn, you really love me, huh?”

“Boy, you already know.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Say it,” He murmured.

“I love you, Terrance Richmond.” You bit your lip, smiling. 

A deep exhale came through the line, like those words alone were enough to ground him. “I love you too, ma. More than you even know.”

“You better love me with your fine self.” You giggled, continuing to whisk the batter. He chuckled lowly, the sound making your ears perk up at the nostalgic sound.

“You know I want a baby soon as possible, right? Just like we talked about.” Terry’s voice dipped even lower, that familiar edge of possession curling around his words. 

“I know, baby.” You bit your lip, warmth spreading through your belly at the certainty in his tone.

“Nah,” He pressed. “I mean, soon as I get home, I’m filling you up. I ain’t playing.”

A giggle bubbled out of you. “Well, that’s good to know,”  You teased, twisting a strand of hair between your fingers. “Because I already got off my birth control, and I’m ovulating real soon.”

Silence. Then a sharp inhale from Terry. “You serious?”

“Mmhmm.” A smirk played on your lips 

“Good,” He growled. “‘Cause I ain’t pulling out. I want you pregnant, mama. You carrying my son or my baby girl. I already see it.”

A deep shudder rolled through you at the sheer conviction in his voice. There was no hesitation, no doubt—he wanted this, just like you did. Now you knew having a baby before a ring wasn’t the most conventional thing. You were raised better than that, taught that marriage first was the way to go, that being someone’s “baby mama” wasn’t the move. But Terry? He wasn’t that type of man. This wasn’t some half-thought-out, heat-of-the-moment decision. You knew exactly what you were signing up for. From the moment you told him you wanted his baby, he made it crystal clear—both you and that child would have his last name. There would be no question, no hesitation. You weren’t about to be just someone’s BM. You were his woman, his future wife.

The plan was already in motion—soon as he got out, y’all were hitting the courthouse and making it official. No long engagement, no drawn-out wedding planning stress. He wanted to be your husband immediately. And once he was settled, once he was back on his feet, working and bringing in real money, then he’d give you that big wedding, the

one with the flowers, the dress, the family all gathered to watch you walk down the aisle. But for now? The paper, the commitment, you—that’s what mattered most to him.

It wasn’t like you weren’t set up already. You made damn good money, and your degree in business administration had you sitting pretty in a high-paying corporate consulting job, helping multi-million-dollar firms streamline their operations. Your salary was more than enough to hold things down while Terry got back on his feet, and you’d already mapped out a business plan to help him reintegrate. Finding a job after doing seventeen years inside wasn’t easy, but you had resources, connections, a plan. You weren’t just bringing him home—you were making sure he stayed home. You were building a life with this man, and every step of it felt right.

“You think your family gon’ like me?” Terry exhaled through the phone, his deep voice softening just a little. Your smile, bright and easy just seconds ago, slowly faded. It was a fair question. A real one. But it wasn’t an easy one to answer. You knew your mama. Sweet, nurturing, and warm when she wanted to be, but judgmental as hell. A devout Christian woman—saved, sanctified, and filled with the Holy Ghost. She wasn’t fond of anything remotely sinful, and Terry… well, Terry was the walking definition of sinful.

There was no denying he was a fine-ass man. That wasn’t the issue. Standing tall at 6’3”, with those piercing hazel eyes that seemed to shift between ocean-gray and a stormy blue-green depending on the light. Rich, light caramel skin that deepened into a golden bronze in the summer but softened into a fairer hue in the colder months. A strong, chiseled jawline that made him look both dangerous and regal. His lips? Plump, full, always looking like they were ready to be kissed—or used for something far nastier. His short-cropped curly fro was just long enough to grab, and those thick, corded muscles? Yeah. His time behind bars didn’t just sculpt his body—it turned him into a damn statue, cut from flesh instead of marble. His tattoos, inked along his thick arms, added to his edge. Especially that sleeve—his latest one, a masterpiece he got done while inside.

He was the kind of man that turned heads when he walked into a room. The kind that made women cross their legs and bite their lip. But he wasn’t the “good, God-fearing man” your mother had envisioned for you. Terry was the complete opposite. And yet, his heart was the purest thing about him. Despite his past, despite the anger and the hurt buried deep in his soul, he was a good man. A gentle soul trapped in an exterior so hard, so intimidating, most people never got to see the real him.

You inhaled sharply, trying to find the right words. “Baby, I gotta be honest with you.”

“Mmhmm?” His voice was calm. 

You sighed. “I don’t know. My mama… she can be a bit much. And the fact that I’ve been hiding this—hiding us—for the past two years? Oh, she gon’ have a fit. And my sister? Whew, she gon’ have a mouth full too. You’d probably have better luck with my aunties than my own mama.”

Terry chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made your stomach flutter. “I get it, baby. I do.” His voice was soft, understanding. “But I ain’t going nowhere. She can side-eye me, throw oil on me, pray over me ‘til she blue in the face—I’m still gon’ be here. And I’ma do whatever I can to make her love me. To make her see I ain’t some monster. ‘Cause I want this, ma. I want us. I want your family to be my family, too.”

That made you smile. A big one. The kind that deepened your dimples and warmed you from the inside out. But there was something else weighing on you. Something heavy. Something you knew Terry wouldn’t want to talk about, but you had to ask.

You hesitated before carefully pushing forward. “Baby… you gon’ reach out to your mama once you’re free?”

“Nah, Y/N. I’m not.” He answered, his voice, tight and clipped. 

You swallowed. “Baby—”

“Ain’t like she gave a fuck about me in the first place,” he cut you off, his voice colder now. “I’m in here ‘cause of her. You know that.”

“I know. I do. But, baby… you gotta forgive. Not for her. For you. You need peace, Terry. You deserve that.” You exhaled slowly. His breathing was heavier now, like he was trying to keep himself from slipping into that dark place. You hated when he went there. When the bitterness and resentment started to eat away at him.

“I got peace, baby. I got you.” His voice softened just a little, but you could still hear the hurt beneath it. “That’s all I need.”

“I hear you baby.” You softly replied. You decided to respect his wishes and let the conversation about his mother rest. He had been through enough, and you weren’t about to push him into something he wasn’t ready for. Instead, you brightened up, shifting the energy as you let out a little squeal.

“Oh! Baby, my birthday dress came!” You announced excitedly, twirling a loose curl around your finger. “I can’t wait for you to see me in it.”

Terry’s smirk was damn near audible through the phone. “Oh yeah?” His voice dropped an octave, turning rich and smooth like warm honey. “That’s cool, baby… ‘cause I can’t wait to take that shit off you.”

“It is literally nine in the morning, and you already on go.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Because I got this pretty, brown-eyed woman waiting on me,” He murmured. “And I can’t stop staring at her picture, picturing our life together beyond these walls. I just need my woman bad.” He let out a breath, voice thick with longing. “I wanna turn your body inside out, have you laid up exhausted, and then make you breakfast in the morning while you recover, boo.”

“Leave the cooking to me, Richmond. Don’t need you burning our house up.” You smirked, scratching your head. You hadn’t even realized you said it like that—our house—until the words left your lips. But Terry caught it instantly. His heart swelled, warmth spreading through his chest like wildfire.

“Our,” He repeated, grinning through the phone. “I like the sound of that. And don’t worry, baby. I could never destroy anything of ours.” His words settled over you like a warm embrace, making your stomach flutter.

Terry cleared his throat after a beat. “So, your girls still takin’ you out for your birthday?”

“Mmhmm,” You confirmed, stretching lazily. “We’re hitting this grown and sexy lounge. Got a section, a table, should be real nice. I just wanted something low-key. Nothing too crazy.”

Terry hummed in approval. “That’s what’s up. You think your girls gon’ accept me?”

You snorted. “They’re gonna love you. Especially Deja. Sonya, though… she might take a minute. She’s Miss Fake Bougie, swearing she a real housewife of Atlanta. But deep down, she’s chill. Just real protective of me.”

Terry let out a low chuckle. “Aight, sounds like a plan, baby girl. Long as they ain’t plotting to run me off, we cool.”

“Never that.” You smiled, resting your chin in your hand, leaning on the countertop.

“Mm. Aight, tell me this, then—what’s the first meal I’m getting when I come home?” He inquired, with a devious smirk. 

“Well, I was thinking… me.” Your voice became real seductive, tilting your head. 

Terry’s laughter rumbled through the phone, low and sinful. “Ain’t no thinking, that’s a guarantee. But just to be safe, cook us something for after, ‘cause we gon’ need the strength.”

“Terry, you so damn silly.” You burst out laughing, shaking your head at him.

“You love it,” He teased, and he wasn’t wrong. Because behind all that reserved, stoic energy, Terry Richmond was a damn goofball at heart. And he was your goofball. The conversation between you and Terry continued, the two of you just vibing, killing time before you had to finally pull yourself away and get in the shower. He told you about a wild dream he had last night—some crazy mix of old memories and future fantasies of the two of you together.

“Man, I swear, I had the realest dream, baby,” He said, voice lazy and deep. “We was laid up in this big-ass house, had the baby in the crib next to us… you was wearin’ my T-shirt, lookin’ all sexy with your lil’ bonnet on, and I just kept pullin’ you closer, not even tryna let you sleep.”

“So you gon’ keep me up even in your dreams?” You laughed, rolling onto your side, twirling the bedsheets between your fingers. 

“Hell yeah,” He said without hesitation. “I been starvin’, baby. Soon as I touch down, I’m eatin’ you up, kissin’ on you, makin’ love to you every chance I get. You gon’ be sick of me.”

“Never that daddy,” You murmured, feeling warmth spread through your body at just the thought of how it would feel to finally have him home.

“Bet,” He chuckled, then let out a deep sigh. “I just be sittin’ in this cell picturing it, picturing us—you in the tub, all soaped up, candles lit, slow jams playin’… me right behind you, holdin’ you close, runnin’ my hands all over that soft ass skin, kissing up your neck… licking on your nipples..”

Your breath hitched, already envisioning the exact same thing. You had put together a playlist for his arrival—nothing but the smoothest 90s and early 2000s R&B, songs that made you wanna melt into somebody’s arms.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about?” You asked, biting your lip.

“What, baby?”  He feigned innocence.

“How you gon’ be sneakin’ into the shower while I’m tryna get ready for work,” you giggled. “Talkin’ about, ‘lemme wake you up the right way’—like I don’t have places to be!”

Terry laughed but then hummed in approval. “Shit, I am waking you up the right way. Gon’ have you walkin’ into work with a smile so big, they gon’ know somebody put it there.”

Your stomach flipped at the thought, heat rising to your cheeks. You were so gone for this man. “You just wait, Richmond,”You teased, sighing dramatically. “You about to be a full-time distraction.”

“That’s my plan, baby.” He grinned through the phone. 

After a few more minutes of sweet talk, you finally sighed. “Alright, I need to get in the shower before I lay here and talk to you all day.”

“I ain’t stoppin’ you,” Terry teased. “I just wanna hear the water runnin’. Let me close my eyes and imagine it.”

“Boy, bye!” You laughed, shaking your head before reluctantly hanging up.

—

The hot water cascaded over your skin as you leaned against the shower wall, letting the warmth soak into your muscles. Your mind was racing with all the intimate moments you’d been daydreaming about since Terry’s release date became a real possibility. Late nights soaking in the tub together, his strong arms wrapped around you, his lips trailing along your shoulder. Waking up to him pulling you into his body, whispering in your ear before making love to you first thing in the morning. The idea of sharing a home, a bed, a life with him made your stomach flip with anticipation. You had been living alone for so long, moving on your own schedule, answering to no one. But now, there would be him. His things mixed with yours, his scent lingering in your sheets, his presence filling the empty spaces. And you couldn’t wait.

Once you finished luxuriating, you stepped out, wrapping yourself in a plush towel. You took your time getting dressed—pulling on a pair of black leggings that hugged your curves and a Nike sports bra, slipping into your most comfortable sneakers. You tied your hair into a sleek bun, then grabbed a baseball cap to shield your eyes from the Georgia sun. After grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30, you were just about to head out the door when your phone rang and you saw it was Sonya.

You sighed before answering, already bracing yourself. “What’s up, girl?”

“Mm, what you got going on today?” She asked, her tone full of suspicion, like she knew you were up to something.

“Just about to make a quick Target and BJ’s run,” You said casually, hoping she’d just let it go.

“Oh, perfect! I need to hit Target anyway! I’ll meet you there.” She stated. You internally cringed. Sonya didn’t know about Terry yet. And you definitely didn’t need her up in your cart asking a hundred questions about all the men’s products you were grabbing.

“Girl, I’m moving quick today,” You abruptly said, trying to throw her off. “Gotta be in and out, no time for browsing.”

“Please, you never just ‘run in’ anywhere,” Sonya scoffed. “I’ll keep up.”

“Sonya…” You huffed, rubbing your temple. 

“What?” She laughed. “Why you sound so stressed? You tryna move funny or somethin’?”

“You know I move funny, that ain’t new.”You let out a dry laugh. 

“Mhm, and that’s exactly why I’m coming.” She snickered. 

You sighed dramatically, knowing there was no way out of this now. “Fine, I’ll see you there,” You relented, already planning how you were going to strategically avoid letting her see all the things you were picking up for Terry. You hurried up and grabbed your car keys and your Stanley cup from your kitchen counter before heading right out the door to your car. You hit the unlock button on your key fob and heard the chirp. Sliding into the plush leather seat of your Mercedes-Benz, you place your Stanley cup in the cupholder before pressing the push-to-start button. The engine purrs to life, and before you can even adjust the air, the CarPlay screen lights up, immediately blasting the smooth, honeyed vocals of Maxwell’s “Fortunate” through the speakers.

Your heart leaps in excitement. “SING IT, MAXWELL!” You squeal, gripping the steering wheel and swaying your shoulders as if you’re right there on stage with him. 

This is your song. Terry’s song. The one he always sings to you over the phone—completely off-key but with so much passion, like he’s pouring every piece of himself into it. You can still hear him now—“I never sang a song with all my might…”—his deep, rough voice twisting the lyrics into something that sounds nothing like Maxwell, but you never cared. It was him. It was you. It was love. You pull out of the driveway, easing onto the streets of Atlanta, the sun gleaming against the hood of your Benz. The beat of the song wraps around you, filling every inch of the car with warmth. With one hand on the wheel and the other tapping rhythmically against your thigh, you let the city move around you, the skyline stretching high above as you feel the music, feel the love behind every lyric. Terry is coming home. Soon. And as Maxwell’s voice croons through the speakers, you let yourself dream—of slow dances in the living room, of his arms pulling you close as you sway to this very song, of him pressing soft kisses along your shoulder while mumbling the lyrics into your ear.You exhale, your lips curling into a soft, knowing smile. It’s only a matter of time.

Pulling into the Target parking lot, you let out a long, heavy sigh, gripping the wheel as you mentally prepared yourself for Sonya. You loved your girl—no doubt about it. Sonya was one of those ride-or-die friends who would cut up with you on a Saturday night and pray with you on Sunday morning. But she was also the kind of woman who didn’t know the meaning of boundaries. She always had to be up in the mix, tasting the flavor, giving unsolicited advice even when it wasn’t needed. And it wasn’t that you didn’t want to share Terry with your girls—because you did. He was your man, and you were proud of him.

But you wanted to make sure this was real. That this was happening. That he was actually going to be home before you started bragging and boasting about him to your family and friends. You couldn’t count how many times you’d gotten excited about a brotha, only for him to turn out to be a disappointment. And every time, you had to do the walk of shame, explaining to everyone that it didn’t work out. You hated the look of disappointment on your mother’s face, the I told you so smirk on your sister’s lips, and God forbid Sonya’s infamous, “I knew that nigga wasn’t shit.” speeches. And then there was Deja, who always chimed in with, “Girl, want me to get my cousin to kill him?”

You loved your girls, but the last two years had been a sacred kind of peace. You had cultivated this private, intense, deeply intimate relationship with Terry while he was behind bars, and there was something pure about keeping it just between the two of you. You knew that sometimes, outside influence could ruin a good thing, and you weren’t ready to share your world just yet. But if things aligned perfectly—if the odds were in your favor, if the judge signed off, and if God was looking out for you—then they would meet him the night of your birthday outing. You just hoped everything would fall into place. You hopped out of the car, grabbing your Louis Vuitton Speedy 30 from the passenger seat and slinging it over your arm. Just as you shut the door, you spotted Sonya standing near the entrance, her arms crossed, her stance already radiating irritation. You took a deep inhale, bracing yourself, then walked over, greeting her with a quick hug.

“Girl, what’s wrong with you?” You asked, noticing her sour expression.

“Chile, my damn hairstylist just sent me that infamous ‘Hey boo’ text, and I just know it’s about to be some bullshit.” Sonya sucked her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“That’s why I told you to stop going to her, Sonya. She’s unprofessional as hell and always canceling on you at the last minute.” You snorted and shook your head. 

“I know, I know,” She whined dramatically, throwing her hands up. “But girl, she know how to lay my damn wigs. She makes that lace look like scalp! I do not wanna go to nobody else!”

You laughed, grabbing a cart and rolling into the store with her. You weren’t even five steps inside before you gave her a knowing look and smirked. “I don’t even know why you waste your time getting them wigs laid, knowing Omar gon’ pull that shit right off your head and have your lace looking crazy by the end of the night.”

“You ain’t lying, girl. You really ain’t lying.” Sonya stuck her tongue out at you before giggling, clearly thinking about how wild her and her man got. 

You shook your head, laughing as you made your way toward the laundry aisle, grabbing detergent, fabric softener, and some cleaning products. You wanted the house to be

perfect for Terry’s homecoming—fresh sheets, the scent of lavender and vanilla in the air, everything spotless for his arrival.

As you reached for a bottle of Febreze, Sonya nudged you. “So… you excited for your birthday?”

“Yeah… I really am.” You smiled, biting your lip as you nodded. Truth be told you were more excited for Terry’s arrival than your own birthday. For as long as you could remember you weren’t the most excited to celebrate your birthday. To you, it was just another day and another reminder that you were leaving your glorious twenties and getting closer to hitting your dirty thirties. That is until Terry came into your life and shifted your perspective on life itself. He taught you that every birthday should be celebrated and that life is too short to not celebrate the breath in your lungs and waking up everyday. Especially with his circumstances and how his life got snatched from him because he chose to do the right thing and defend his mother’s honor against her abuser, but in the end it wasn’t so honorable and his dreams and young life got cut short with the snap of a finger. So this year you chose to have a better outlook on your birthday, thanks to your baby Terry. 

 You continued to move swiftly through Target, pushing your cart with concentration, mentally checking off everything Terry will need once he’s home. You start with the Dove Men+Care bar soap, grabbing a few packs because you know the fresh, clean scent will suit him. Next is the Old Spice body wash—the deep, rich, masculine fragrance makes you weak in the knees, so you know it’ll be perfect for him. You toss it in the cart, followed by men’s deodorant, mouthwash, and toothpaste—because even though you’ve never stood close enough to breathe him in, you already decided that your man will smell fresh, clean, and irresistible.

You head down the haircare aisle, running your fingers over the different bottles before settling on a moisturizing shampoo and conditioner. You know prison air is dry as hell, and you’re not about to have your man coming home with his hair brittle and neglected. A large jar of Palmer’s whipped cocoa butter goes into the cart next—you love how smooth and rich it feels against your skin, and you can already picture yourself rubbing it into his arms, his shoulders, his hands… making sure he’s soft and well taken care of. Just as you’re reaching for a pack of Dude Wipes, Sonya turns from the next aisle, glancing over at your cart. She tilts her head, her perfectly arched brows raising as she takes in all the men’s products sitting inside.

“Uh-uh. Who’s all this for?” She asks, crossing her arms. Your heart skips a beat.

“Oh!” You force out a laugh, thinking quick. “My sister’s in town with her fiancé, and they’re staying at my mom’s house. She needed some stuff to keep there for him.”

Sonya narrows her eyes for a second, then shrugs. “Oh okay, that makes sense. I was about to say, girl, you got a whole grown man’s starter kit in there.”

You laugh nervously, nodding as you grip the handle of your cart, pushing forward. Just when you think you’re in the clear, your phone buzzes in your purse. You glance down and see the caller ID: Terry’s lawyer. Your stomach instantly tightens. He already called earlier—so why is he calling again?

“Hey, hold on,” You tell Sonya, trying to keep your voice light. “I gotta take this real quick.”

“Cool, I’ll meet you at checkout.” Sonya waves you off, already distracted by something on the next shelf. Stepping out of the aisle, you answer, pressing the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answer, voice low. 

“We’ve got a problem,” His lawyer says, his voice urgent.Your body stiffens.

“What? What happened?” You held your breath. 

“There’s been an incident in the prison yard. Terry was involved.” He deeply sighs. Your heart  plummets straight to your ass because you told this nigga—.

“WHAT?!” You shout, loud enough that people around you turn their heads. You clamp a hand over your mouth, forcing yourself to breathe, to stay calm.

“I’m still gathering details,” His lawyer continues, “ But from what I’m hearing, there was some kind of altercation. If the judge catches wind of this, his release could be revoked… or at the very least, stalled.”

The words ring in your ears, drowning out the noise of the store. Revoked?! Stalled?!Your hands start to tremble on the cart handle, your vision blurring with tears. Just when you thought you were so close to having him home—just when everything was falling into place—here comes some bullshit.

“Please… just tell me he’s okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. You swallow hard, gripping the phone tighter.

“I really don’t know. I’m working on it. I’ll call you back when I know more.” He sighed again, sounding defeated. Then the line goes dead, making you tear up. You stood frozen in the middle of Target, your world spinning, your stomach in knots. And just like that, everything you had been dreaming of, praying for, feels like it’s slipping right through your fingers.

This couldn't be happening right now, not right now....

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Before I could even process what was happening, Terry burst through the bedroom door, looking like a full-course meal but with intense emotion in his eyes.

I immediately hung up the phone, and I couldn't help but notice his muscles flexing under his shirt. My instincts told me to run, but another part of me was like, "Damn, daddy."

He didn't even utter a word; he picked me up from the bed and backed me up against that wall. The way he was staring at me, I knew I was in for it.

"You got a smart mouth, don't you?" Terry growled, pressin' up on me. I could feel every inch of him, and it was makin' me lose my damn mind.

"Maybe you need to do somethin' about it then," I shot back. "cause you know ya girl can't keep her mouth shut."

That's when he crashed his lips into mine, kissing me so hard I thought I might pass out. It was rough and messy, all tongue, but damn if it didn't light me up inside.

"You think you can talk shit about me and get away with it?" Terry growled, nippin' at my neck. "Nah baby, I'ma teach you a lesson."

I wrapped my legs 'round his waist, grindin' against him. "Oh yeah? What you gon' do about it, big daddy?"

He hitched me up higher, pressin' me into that wall so hard I could barely breathe but I ain't even care. I was livin' for this roughness.

"I'ma fuck that attitude right outta you," he said, voice low and dangerous.

"Promises, promises," I taunted, even as he was yankin' down my panties.

Terry slammed into me so hard I saw stars, fillin' me up in one stroke. I couldn't help the moan that escaped me.

"That's right, take this dick," he grunted. I dug my nails into his shoulders, meetin' his thrusts. "That all you got? I thought you were gon' teach me a lesson."

Terry growled, snappin' his hips harder. "Oh, I'm just gettin' started, girl. Imma have you beggin' by the time I'm done."

"In yo' dreams," I panted, but damn if he wasn't hittin' it just right. My legs were shakin', and I could feel that pressure buildin' low in my belly.

"You like talkin' shit, huh?" he grunted, reachin' down to rub my clit. "Let's see you run that mouth now."

I threw my head back, damn near screamin' as the pleasure shot through me. "Fuck, Terry! Right there, don't stop!"

"That's what I thought," he smirked, keepin' up that punishin' pace. "Who's dick got you actin' right?"

"Yours, Daddy, all yours," I moaned, clutchin' at his shoulders again.

Terry's strokes got deeper, hittin' that spot that had me seein' stars. "Damn right it's mine," he growled.

"This pussy belongs to me, doesn't it?" He asked, looking into my eyes like a lion.

"Yes! All yours, baby," I cried out, my legs shakin' somethin' fierce.

Terry's hand came up to grip my throat, just enough pressure to have me gaspin'. "Repeat it. Tell me who owns this pussy."

"You do! It's all yours, Terry," I moaned, my eyes rollin' back. "Fuck, I'm so close!"

"Nuh-uh, you ain't cummin' 'til I say so," he grunted, slowin' his strokes to a torturous pace. "You have been runnin' that mouth; now you gotta beg for it."

I whimpered, tryin' to grind down on him but he held me still. "Please Terry, I need it. Make me cum, daddy."

"That doesn't sound like beggin' to me," Terry smirked, teasin' me with shallow thrusts. "C'mon baby girl, let me hear how bad you want it."

"Please!" I damn near sobbed. "Please, Terry! I'm dyin' here!" I begged, my whole body shakin' with need. "I'll do anything, just let me cum!"

That seemed to satisfy him 'cause he started poundin' into me again, his thumb workin' my clit like a pro. "That's more like it. Cum for me, baby. Let me feel that pussy squeeze my dick."

I exploded, cryin' out his name as waves of pleasure crashed over me. Terry grunted, his strokes gettin' erratic as he chased his own release. But just as he was 'bout to bust, I pushed him back.

"Nuh-uh, big daddy. My turn to run this show," I purred, slidin' down the wall and pushin' him towards the bed. Terry's eyes went wide, but he let me take control.

I shoved him down onto the mattress, climbin' on top and straddlin' those thick thighs. "You think you can handle this ride?" I taunted, grindin' my wet pussy against his hard dick.

Terry's hands came up to grip my hips, but I swatted his hands away, shakin' my head. "Uh-uh love, you don't get to touch unless I say so. This my rodeo now."

Terry groaned, his eyes blazin' with that fire I loved. "Baby, you better stop playin' and get on this dick 'fore I flip you over and take what's mine."

"Oh, you think you runnin' things?" I laughed, teasin' him by rubbin' my slick folds along his length. "Nah, babe, you gon' learn today. I'ma have you beggin' just like you did me."

I reached down, grippin' his thick shaft and guidin' it to my entrance. But instead of sinkin' down, I just let the tip slide in before pullin' back up.

Terry's hips bucked, tryna chase that feeling, but I wasn't havin' it. "Dammit, woman, stop teasin'!" he growled, his hands fistin' in the sheets.

I smirked, loving the way his muscles were flexin' with the effort to stay still. "What's wrong, Daddy?”

"You can't handle this pussy, can you?" I taunted, still teasin' him with just the tip. "Big bad Terry, all worked up over lil' ol' me."

Terry's eyes were blazin', his jaw clenched tight. "Girl, if you don't stop playin' and ride this dick…"

"You'll what?" I challenged, circling my hips real slow. "There's nothing you can do but lay there and take it, Terry."

I could see the muscles in his arms strainin' as he fought to keep his hands off me. Damn if that sight didn't make me wetter.

"C'mon baby," Terry groaned, his voice all rough and desperate. "Don't do me like this. You know I need that pussy."

I laughed, reachin' down to play with myself right in front of him. "Oh yeah? Tell me how bad you want it. Beg for it like I had to."

Terry's eyes were glued to my fingers as I rubbed my clit, his dick twitchin' against my thigh. "Fuck, girl. Please. I'm dyin' here”

"That's what I like to hear," I purred, finally sinkin' down on that thick dick. We both groaned as I took him to the hilt, my walls stretchin' to accommodate all that man.

"Goddamn," Terry hissed, his hands twitchin' like he was dyin' to touch me. "Your pussy so tight, baby. Feels like heaven."

I started to move, rollin' my hips nice and slow. "Mmm, you like that, Terry? Like the way I ride this dick?"

"Fuck yeah," he growled, watchin' me bounce on his lap. "Ride it just like that, baby girl. Take every inch."

I picked up the pace, lettin' my head fall back as I chased my pleasure. "Oh shit, Terry. Your dick feels so good inside me."

"Yeah? Tell me how good it feels," he demanded, his hips startin' to thrust up to meet me. "Let me hear how much you love this dick."

"Fuck, I love it so much," I moaned, my nails diggin' into his chest. "Love the way you stretch me out, fill my pussy”

"That's right, take all this dick," Terry growled, his hips snappin' up to meet my bounces. "You know ain't nobody else can fuck you like I do."

I was damn near delirious with pleasure, my whole body on fire. "Shit, Terry! You hittin' it so deep, baby. Fuck me just like that!"

"Yeah? You like it when I go deep?" he taunted, grabbin' my hips and pullin' me down hard on his thick shaft. "Take it all, mamas. Every last inch."

I cried out, my back archin' as he hit that spot deep inside me. "Oh fuck! Right there, Terry. Don't stop!"

Terry's eyes was blazin' as he watched me ride him, his muscles flexin' with every thrust. "Damn, you look so good bouncin' on this dick. Your titties just beggin' to be sucked on."

"Then do it," I challenged, leanin' forward to push my big breasts in his face. "Show me what that mouth does, big daddy." Terry didn't need to be told twice.

He latched onto my nipple; his eyes were dark with desire as he leaned in to take my nipple between his lips. I could see the muscles in his arm flexing as he held onto me, his other hand roaming over my body.

His face was a mix of pleasure and concentration as he pleasured me with his mouth. I gasped, the sensation sending shockwaves through my body.

"Oh ahhh yes, just like that!" I encouraged, my voice hitching with every flick of his tongue.

"Suck it harder, please. Make me feel that heat." I cried as his mouth worked its magic, swirling and tugging as he pulled me deeper into this wild ride.

With each thrust, my body responded like a live wire, crackling with electricity as he took me to new heights. "You taste so sweet, girl," he murmured against my skin, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure coursing through me.

"Keep talkin' dirty to me," I urged breathlessly, grinding down on him with a hungry urgency. "Let me hear how much you love this."

"Girl, ain't nobody got you like I do," Terry growled defiantly, his hands gripping my waist possessively. "You know I'm the only one who can get you this wet."

A wicked smile curled on my lips. "Well then, babe, you better make sure I remember that." I rolled my hips faster now, desperation mixing with desire until it was nearly unbearable.

His dick slid in and out of me with a delicious friction that had me trembling. "You feel that?" he said between gritted teeth.

"That’s all your fault. You made me this way, baby girl, all wild and rough for you." He pulled me closer, forcing me to feel every inch of him as he sunk deeper still, filling me up with his heat.

"Yeah, I feel it," I panted, my breath hitching as he thrust hard against that sweet spot inside me again. "You got me addicted, Terry. Ain't nobody else got a hold on me like this."

Terry chuckled low and throaty, the sound vibrating through both our bodies.

You know it, baby. I'm in your head and in your heart now." He leaned back a little, eyes blazing with mischief.

"You like that? You like being mine?" he asked, grabbing your neck gently.

"Hell yes!" I shouted, every nerve ending alive with need as I pushed myself harder against him. "I’m yours—now and forever."

Terry's grip tightened around my hips as he lifted me slightly before slamming me back down on his thick dick, the impact sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating outwards.

"Damn right! You gon' be screamin' my name when this is over." Terry grunts.

I moaned louder, the sound echoing off the walls like an offering to the universe above us. "Yes, yes, ahhh! Fill me up and make it count, big daddy!"

He braced himself against the wall, redoubling his efforts as he hammered into me relentlessly.

"You want it hard; you got it," he grunted, his breathing ragged from exertion but determined nonetheless. "You gon' remember this night for the rest of your life."

"Terry!" I moaned his name as my body tense with the effort to hold back the wave of ecstasy building inside me. "I can't—I'm gonna–" With one final, earth-shattering thrust.

I came apart in his arms, his name on my lips as stars exploded behind my eyelids. Terry followed suit seconds later, growling a primal sound that reverberated through my bones and branding itself onto my skin like a tattoo.

My body shuddered as the aftershocks rippled through me, each tremor like a spark igniting fire in my veins. I clung to him, breathless and dizzy.

The feeling of his warmth envelops me and grounds me back to reality. But that heat was only the beginning; it simmered beneath our skin, a tantalizing promise of what would come.

“Damn, baby,” Terry said, panting softly as he raked a hand through his face, sweat beading on his brow.

“You know how to make a man feel alive.” His eyes gleamed with mischief again, and that grin spread across his face like sunshine after a storm.

“You ready for round two? 'Cause I ain't done with you yet.” Terry said, and I giggled breathily, the sound low and sultry, sending my heart racing anew.

“What do you think this is? I’m just getting started!” I leaned forward, catching his earlobe between my teeth and tugging playfully.

The juke joint had quieted down in the weeks since their baby girl was born, but inside the house, it was anything but still.

Smoke sat in the rocking chair by the window, their daughter bundled up tight in his arms, her tiny hand curled around his pinky finger. He stared down at her like she held the secrets of the universe. A soft, almost awed smile tugged at the corners of his lips—rare, but real.

“Honey,” he called gently, without taking his eyes off the baby. “You bet’ not be out that bed.”

“I’m just gettin’ a glass of water,” Honey called from the kitchen, her voice still tired but sweet. “Ain’t like I’m runnin’ a mile.”

Smoke stood, baby girl cradled against his chest. “You had a whole baby come outta you less than a month ago. Sit yo’ pretty self down, I’ll get the damn water.” He stepped into the kitchen, shooting her a look both stern and soft. “Ain’t nothin’ you need I won’t handle.”

Honey smiled, leaning against the table. “You act like I’m made of glass.”

Smoke gave a quiet snort, brushing past her to get a glass from the shelf. “You are. The most precious thing I got—‘cept this little one.” He glanced down at their daughter, now cooing in his arms. “And I ain’t takin’ no chances with either of y’all.”

He returned, handing Honey the glass with one hand while holding the baby steady with the other, practiced already like he’d been doin’ it all his life. He kissed the top of her head. “Now sit yo’ tail down. Doctor said rest, and I’m makin’ sure you rest.”

She obeyed, mostly because the way he looked at her made her chest ache with love. Smoke sat beside her on the couch, keeping the baby close. Every few minutes, he checked her little blanket, adjusted the cap on her head, rubbed her back when she fussed.

“You ain’t even blinked today,” Honey murmured, watching him with a grin. “You tired, baby?”

He shook his head. “Nah. Long as y’all good, I’m good. I ain’t leavin’ either of y’all’s side, not for nothin’. This here? This all I ever wanted.”

Smoke leaned over and kissed Honey softly, then touched his forehead to hers. “You gave me a whole new world, mama. You ain’t liftin’ nothin’ but that beautiful mouth to tell me what you need, hear?”

“One minute, I’m sleeping good, rolling over to reposition, and grab a handful ass. Only to wind up gripping some damn sheets. What you doin’, mama?”

Your eyes remain focused on a steaming hot mug of tea as you release a sigh.

“Mama,” Rio rasps, swaggering toward you. His knuckles feather your jaw, before slipping under your chin. He angles your head toward him, forcing your eyes to lock. “You had another nightmare, didn't you?”

You tug away, focusing your vision elsewhere.

“Hey, mm-mm. Look at me.”

Out of habit, you submit and exhale, “It’s fine, Rio. I just want to stay up long enough that it won't resume once my eyes shut. Go back to sleep, papa.”

“When did I become a fuck boy?”

You look at him incredulously. Your eyes narrow to slits as you rear back offensively. “What are you on about? Who said you were a fuck boy?”

“You expect me to just leave you down here to get at your demons alone? If so, then that's what you must take me for.”

“Christopher, that's not at all what I'm trying to say. You got shit to do in the morning-.”

“And you don't? Being a mom ain't a full-time job, sweetheart?”

“For the love of all things holy! Why are we going back and forth over a damn nightmare?”

“Cause I done told your ass to stop suffering through shit alone. Look, I'm not trying to argue. Could you just stop trying to take on everything by yourself? You exhaust all avenues before asking for help. I'm not with that shit, darlin’. You stay on my ass about opening up. Give me the same courtesy.”

If it's one thing your husband knows how to do. It's checking and setting you straight.

Abandoning your coffee mug, you cross your arms, staring down at your lap. The silence stretches for a few moments. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I just don't want to be a burden.”

Rio sucks in a breath, giving his head a firm shake. He takes a seat next to you on the couch. “How we feeling right now? Do you want space? Of course when I say space— I'm referring to the other end of the couch,” he says with a straight face. “Can I touch you?”

You sniffle, wiping at the tear that skates down your cheek. “Of course, you can touch me. Thank you for asking though. Consent is sexy,” you joke trying to lighten the mood.

Rio responds with a lopsided grin, “There’s my girl. Come here, baby,” he rasps, pulling you into his lap. Your head tucks into his neck out of habit as he rocks you.

“I don't know how many times I’m going to have to tell you this, love. I'll say it until I'm blue in the face. You have never been, nor will you ever be a burden. I'm not upset that you keep thinking this way. Your brain is just being mean to you. That's how you were raised, and what you've been told from the ones who were supposed to love and protect you most.”

Rio’s lips ghost over your forehead, stopping to pepper kisses across your hairline.

“Not only did they break you down, but they had you believing you weren't worthy of love. Which led you to search for it in people who knew and took advantage of that. They broke what little trust you had left in the world.

Rio’s fingers slide up and down your spine in slow, soothing strokes, his warmth seeping into you. “But that shit stops here, mama. You hear me?” His voice drops lower, a raw edge scraping against the tenderness of his words. “You ain’t gotta search no more. You ain’t gotta prove shit to me. You already got me.”

Your breath hitches, and you burrow deeper into his lap and chest. “I know,” you murmur, voice small.

“Nah, I don’t think you do,” he counters softly, his fingers tilting your chin up again so you can’t look away. “If you did, you wouldn’t be sittin’ here feelin’ like you gotta carry the weight alone.”

You blink up at him, feeling exposed in a way that makes your throat tighten. But Rio doesn’t push. He just waits, patient in a way only he can be with you. And when the words finally slip past your lips, they’re barely above a whisper. “It’s just… sometimes I feel like if I don’t handle it myself, then I don’t deserve help. Like I gotta earn it.”

Rio exhales sharply, his grip tightening around you like he’s trying to physically hold together the pieces of you that someone else shattered. “That’s bullshit,” he says plainly, his forehead pressing against yours. “Love ain’t about earning, baby. It’s about givin’ and takin’—without keepin’ score.”

A fresh wave of emotion crashes into you, but before it can pull you under, Rio’s hands are there, grounding you. He tugs you in closer, his lips finding your temple. “Let me love you the way you deserve, yeah?” he murmurs against your skin.

You nod, eyes squeezing shut. “Okay,” you whisper.

He pulls back just enough to search your face, thumb swiping away the dampness on your cheek. “Okay,” he echoes, pressing one last kiss to your forehead. “Now, you wanna sit here for a bit? Or you comin’ back to bed with me?”

You sniffle, nuzzling into his chest. “Bed,” you admit.

“That’s what I thought,” he says smugly, standing up with you still wrapped around him. “See? Gettin’ better already.”

You huff a small laugh against his throat. “You always gotta have the last word, huh?”

“Always,” he confirms, carrying you back upstairs like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

I know this was random as hell, but I just wanted to write some fluffy Rio cuddles😩😍. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated.

Tagging some lovelies💜:

Closing her door, he strides over to her, pressing kisses to the backs of her hands before pulling her up and spinning her around, watching her giggle and jiggle.

“Thank you, baby!”

“Mmm, it's almost coverin’ too much,” he jokes, making her eyes roll in faux annoyance.

“At least you like it,” she pouts, plopping down on the bed as he towers over her, flipping her chocolate curls over her shoulders.

“He didn't like it??” He asks, making her suck her teeth.

“He said I always wear pink, and that's nothing special anymore. And you'd think he'd be sad that we can't spend Valentine's Day together because of a stupid business trip! But, it's just another day to him.” She frowns.

“You are an angel, because I would have killed him.” He huffs, kissing her forehead.

She laughed it off like always, but she was running out of poker faces to wear.

“Yeah,” she shrugs, “guess I don't deserve much better… but anyway,” she mumbles, looking up at him with sad eyes, hoping he couldn't tell.

But he was appalled at the way she viewed her self worth, due to her asshole boyfriend.

“What?” She asks after a moment of him just staring at her.

“I know I just come around to show you some fun and give you attention like you want, but I also want you to know that you deserve that in your actual relationship. To be shown off, adored and desired. I don't understand how or why you're still with him, but you deserve any and everything in the world. Even if it's not me that gives it to you.”

She opened her mouth to say something– anything, but she'd be lying if she said this wasn't the conversation they'd been having since the beginning of their fun— six months ago.

He was just supposed to come over and take her mind off her shifty man, but he found himself desperately wanting to know everything about her, outside of her sweet spots or how many times she could cum before blacking out.

That scared her, because she wasn't sure if she believed that she deserved such a man and all he was willing to hand over without fuss.

“I'm n-not ready to go there,” she sighs, dropping her gaze to her lap.

“Been beatin’ around the bush for too long, princess. We'll talk after I finish.” He says, lifting her chin up so she can meet his eyes.

She nods before his lips find hers for sweet and soft kisses, melting her sadness into puddles of arousal.

Kneeling down, pushing her thighs apart and hooking her panties to the side, his fingers gather her wetness and rub sinful circles on her clit.

“Babe..” she whimpers, tossing her head back as he continues, making her thighs quiver.

“What is it, princess?”

“Feels so good,” she breathes, reaching out for his wrist as her body begins to tense up.

“You cummin’, hmm?” He asks.

“Not yet.. I need your mouth,” she moans, her nails playing with his beard, “let me wet this up.”

His thick, wet tongue was driving her insane as it wagged up and down her slit, leaving her squirming.

Her mouth drops open at the rapid lick of his tongue on her spot, his groans vibrating through her.

“Right there, fuckkkk, right there,” she moans, eyes crossing as her orgasm rips through.

Her hands keep him in place as she ascends into bliss all over again, unintelligible noises leaving her.

“Gonna cum againnnn,” she whines, “that's sooo goood, babyyyy!”

“Mmmhm, keep cummin’,” he commands, smacking her ass as she continues to leak everywhere.

“Fuck me… please, fuck me!”

“How you want it, mama?”

Folded up at the edge of the bed, her feet are braced against his broad chest as he digs deep inside her.

Her low lids and dropped jaw held his gaze, letting him know she was enjoying herself like she deserves.

“Fuckin’ you good, baby?” He asks, pecking her open mouth.

“Uhn, ye— yessss,” she hisses, squeezing him tight, “that's my spot!”

“Mmm, I feel you squeezin’, baby,” he teases, pounding faster and making her squeal.

A hand squeezes her throat, making her leak double time, the squelch echoing through her room.

“There it is,” he smiles, “there you go, baby!”

“Oh my— god! I'm g— I'm cumming! I'm cumming!” She whimpers, scratching his arms and hips.

“Give it to me,” he chants, encouraging another orgasm right at the tail end of the first, snatching her breath completely away.

“Take it, baby!”

Laying his weight on her, his lips find her neck and their fingers intertwine as he slows down, still grinding on her spot.

Her body vibrates between her soft bed and his rock hard one, begging for a reprieve from the nonstop pleasure running through it.

Short gasps leave with every pump of his hips, her teary eyes stare up at the ceiling as she wonders what she did to get fucked this good.

“Like this?”

“Yes, fuck meee,” she whines, holding onto him tight.

Soft sucks to her sweet and sweaty skin as he begins digging a little deeper, making her mouth fall completely open.

“Shit!”

“Mmmm, let me hear it,” he moans in her ear.

“So good! It's so.. good,” she whimpers.

“You deserve it,” he kisses beneath her lobe.

She whimpers again, closing her eyes tightly.

“You deserve all this good dick, baby.”

The slap of their juices echoes through the room, turning her on even more.

“You're gonna make me cum!” She squeals, burying her face into his shoulder as her legs quiver.

“Give it to me,” he grunts, pulling it right out of her, “mmm, there you go, princess.. gimme all that shit.”

His hand finds its way around her throat, making her cum all over again, her juices leaking down her ass.

“Nasty, nasty girl,” he chuckles, kissing her parted lips.

She smiles, her body wracked from the pleasure she's receiving.

She was arched like a cat above him as he rutted her back and forth on his dick, mesmerized by the way her breasts bounced in his face.

“So fucking sexy,” he mumbles, biting his lip and reaching up to punch her nipples.

She pouts, dropping her ass in his lap, loving the way his fingers are digging into her skin.

“You like that, baby?”

“Fuck yess,” he groans, “mmf, he don't deserve this ass,” he says, slapping her backside a few times.

She giggles, wholeheartedly agreeing.

“I know,” she moans back, placing a hand at his neck, “you deserve it, though daddy.”

Smirking like he'd won the lottery, he pulls her closer in his lap and moves his hands to her neck.

“Tell daddy what he deserves, princess,” he says with a squeeze.

“Mmmm, you deserve this ass,” she moans, dropping it harder on him for emphasis, proud of how loud the slap of her skin is against his.

“Mmm, fat juicy ass,” he smacks it again, “keep goin’.”

“You deserve this pussy, daddyyy,”

“Yeah? That sweet, gushy pussy is all mine?”

“Yessss,”

“Say it.”

“It's yours, baby, fuckkk it's yours!” She yells, feeling her orgasm creep up her toes as she continues bouncing, her wet smacks sounding through the air.

“Mmmm, I feel you squeezin’ baby,”

“Oh my god, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum!”

“Tell me it's mine, again.”

“Unh, it's yours, b-babyyy, it's yours!!”

“Cum for daddy,” he commands, “give me all that shit, baby.”

Her screams of pleasure almost overpowered his praises as she collapsed into his arms, writhing beyond her control.

Flipping her back over on her back, he presses his lips or hers in a searing kiss, pulling on her heartstrings and making her wet all over again.

Coming up for air, he smiles at her as his hips begin moving again, making her eyes roll back.

“You make me feel so good,” she whispers, afraid of her own voice.

“You deserve to feel good, princess,” he nods, pecking her lips again.

“Can I…” she trails off, sighing at the lovely tingles in her bones, her hands gripping onto him tighter.

“Can you what, baby?”

“Can I be yours?”

Pressing his forehead to hers, he briefly closes his eyes and lets out a breath, like he'd been waiting forever to hear those words.

“You've always been mine,” he answers, kissing her deeply as their grinding turns desperate and clumsy.

“I'm yours,” she repeats. “I'm yours, daddy.”

“Fuckkk, I'm gonna nut all in my pussy,” he grunts, setting her off again with a holler.

Spurt after spurt of his hot cum bathes her insides, bruises left on her thighs from him bearing down.

“Fuckkk, we finna call him right now.” He grunts, making her full on laugh.