“Isn’t for four hours.” His breath was hot against my center. “I got time.”
Then his tongue was on me and I stopped thinking about anything else.
He ate me like I was his last meal. Slow at first, savoring, then building in intensity until my back was arching off the bed and my fingers were gripping the sheets. My belly was round now—six months along—but he worked around it with ease, one hand splayed across my hip, the other gripping my thigh.
“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured against my skin. “So fucking beautiful.”
I came with his name on my lips.
He kissed his way back up my body. My hip. My belly. The underside of my breast. My collarbone. My jaw. Finally, my mouth.
“Good morning,” he said against my lips.
“Good morning yourself.”
He settled beside me, one hand resting on my stomach. The baby kicked—she’d been active lately, especially in the mornings—and Prime’s whole face changed. Softened in a way that still surprised me.
“Hey, baby girl.” He lowered his head, pressing his lips to my belly. “It’s Daddy. You being good for your mama?”
Another kick. Right against his palm.
“That’s my girl.” He rubbed slow circles on my skin. “I got big plans for you, you know that? You’re gonna be so loved. So protected. You’re never gonna know what it feels like to be scared. Never gonna know what it’s like to wonder if your parents care about you.”
My throat tightened. I knew what he was doing. Making promises to our daughter that his mother had never made to him.
“You’re gonna have everything,” he continued, his voice dropping lower. “A mama who loves you. A big brother who’s gonna protect you. And a daddy who will burn the whole world down for you if anybody ever tries to hurt you.”
I ran my fingers through his locks. “You’re gonna be a good father, Prentice.”
He looked up at me. Those icy eyes that could be so cold, so deadly—right now they were warm. Open. Vulnerable in a way he only ever was with me.
“I’m gonna try,” he said. “That’s all I can do. Try to be better than what I had.”
“You already are.”
He kissed my belly one more time, then pushed himself up.
“Come on, Goddess. We got a bakery to open.”
Sweet Zin’s.
My name on a building. My dream made real.
I stood on the sidewalk, staring up at the storefront like I couldn’t quite believe it was real. The sign was gorgeous—elegant script in rose gold against a cream background. Through the windows, I could see the display cases filled with my Zinnamon rolls, the exposed brick walls, the cozy seating area with plush chairs and marble tables.
Eight months ago, I was serving tables at Grits. Dealing with Larry’s wandering hands. Scraping together tips to pay rent.
Now this.
“You okay?” Prime’s hand found the small of my back.
“Yeah.” My voice came out thick. “I just… I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it.” He pressed a kiss to my temple. “You earned this.”
The crowd was already gathering. Press. Food bloggers. Neighbors curious about the new spot. And scattered throughout—family.
Quest and Justice arrived first, both in tailored suits, looking every bit the successful businessmen they were. Quest pulled me into a careful hug, mindful of my belly.
