Chapter 6
Chapter Six
The slow throb between her legs and the soft knock dragged Kennedi out of what little sleep she’d managed. She groaned, rolling deeper into the covers, trying to hide from the ache in her body and the reminder of everything she’d done.
What they had done…again and again until the early morning bled into sunlight. The nigga was insatiable, and she was still paying for it.
She blinked against the light spilling through the curtains. She shivered.
“You hungry?” His voice rolled through the room, rough from a long night. He stepped back inside like the place was his, leaned down, and pressed his lips to her forehead.
Her eyes fluttered open, and before she could summon a single excuse, his palm was already on her cheek, thumb grazing along her jaw.
“Why did you order breakfast?” she asked, voice husky with sleep.
“I did.” His mouth tugged at one corner, but his eyes never left her; he was also remembering the night they’d shared. “Gotta feed you.”
She hated the way her body betrayed her, softening at his care when her pride wanted to stiffen.
The roses that showed up because she’d done her job well.
The way he'd stood in front of her in that elevator without flinching.
The praise that landed was too specific to be a performance.
He took initiative too easily, as if it were second nature.
That's what led her to his door in the first place.
“Okay. I’ll be right out.”
She slipped from the bed, sheet wrapped tight, but he stayed exactly where he was.
When she bent to grab her robe, his eyes dropped low, not on the sheet or her robe, but on that tattoo, the pen with a Black woman riding it like a stallion. A writer. A rider.
She caught him. “Rolani!”
“Rolani nothing,” he cut in smoothly, leaving no room for debate. “Ain’t no need in being shy now. I had that pussy spread wide open last night.”
The low laugh made her roll her eyes, fuss under her breath. “Ugh. I still don’t like you.”
Instead of running, she was looking forward to sitting across from him over pancakes like that was normal.
“That’s fine, but I ran you a bath. It’ll help.”
“Really?” she murmured.
Kennedi couldn’t believe her ears, but her eyes saw the proof in his words and the meaning behind his actions. The tub was already full when she stepped inside. Roses floated on the surface, bubbles catching the light. She stood there for a moment, her heart doing something traitorous.
He helped her in without comment, then left.
The water loosened everything she’d been holding. When she stepped out of the shower, wrapped in her robe, skin warm and clean, his gaze softened.
No makeup. No armor. He believed she looked better in her natural, raw state. A vision he couldn’t forget, even if he wanted to.
The table he’d set up in the foyer was covered in silver trays, coffee steaming, juice shining in tall glasses. Her lips twitched at the sight, but she forced the smile away. She wasn’t about to get seduced by scrambled eggs.
Arms crossed, she tried to snatch her composure back, but the truth was, she hadn’t fully learned who she was dealing with. A man who understood boundaries and didn’t give a fuck about them when it came to her. Last night proved that. They’d crossed lines, he’d damn near pulled the trigger for her.
“You’re doing the most.”
“Sit your fine ass down,” he said easily.
She did. The throb between her legs returned on cue.
She tugged her robe tighter, but it slipped anyway, exposing the smooth line of her chest. Rolani let out a low sigh, shaking his head. “See… you playin’,” he muttered under his breath, eyes locked on her.
“Control yourself, Rolani,” she smirked. “There’s no way you still wanna be between my thighs.”
“Psst, I’m TTG,” he shot back without hesitation.
“TTG?”
“Trained to go, baby. I knew it, a suburban girl,” he said, lifting a tray and uncovering the plates. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, fruit. He was halfway to serving her before his expression shifted, irritation flashing across his face.
“Something wrong?” she asked carefully.
“Nah. Eat.”
“Rolani, what’s wrong?”
“I specifically said no blueberries.” He jabbed a finger at the plate.
She tilted her head and said, “Here, give them to me.”
She slid her plate toward him, but he didn’t move. “It’s not about switching,” he muttered. “I’m allergic. Don’t even like them touching my plate. A closed throat ain’t how I want you to see me. Not when I got a hill to climb to make you my wife.”
Her hand stilled halfway across the table, eyes snapping to his. The smirk faded. That one line cracked through her defenses harder than anything he’d done the night before.
Before he could brush it off, Kennedi was already on her feet, grabbing the phone. Rolani leaned back in his chair, arms folded, watching her go to bat for him. She tore into the person on the other end, making it real clear somebody was gonna fix this shit immediately, or she’d be reporting them.
“…Yes, I said allergic. Do you understand how dangerous that could’ve been?… Exactly. I expect a replacement promptly for both orders, please. Thank you.”
She hung up and turned, one brow lifted, a tiny smirk curving her mouth. “Handled. You’ll have new food in a minute.”
He blinked at her, almost thrown. “I’m touched you did that for me. But it was cool.”
“I can’t be your girlfriend right now, but I can make sure you don’t die in my hotel suite. Luther’s would never.”
The sound that left him wasn’t just a laugh.
It rumbled low, genuine, warm enough to shift the air between them.
His eyes crinkled, his shoulders eased, and for the first time, she saw him without all the hard edges.
He tapped his chest. “‘Preciate that. For real.” His chin jerked toward her plate. “What was wrong with yours?”
“Nothing,” she said, sliding back into her seat. “I just didn’t want to eat without you. By the time they remake it, mine would be cold anyway. So stop worrying.”
Her own words hit her harder than she meant them to. The look he gave her made it clear he’d heard what she hadn’t said out loud. It made her shift in her chair.
“I take it you like Luther’s? Noted.”
“I love Luther’s. What does noted mean?”
“It means I got it noted, woman. I fuck with Luther’s.”
She waved him off.
“Ken,” he said finally. “I ain’t tryna leash you. Ain’t tryna cage you in. That’s not what I’m about. I heard you on the one night but...”
Her stomach growled in betrayal, and his smirk cut wide, smug, lingering on her long enough to make her toes curl under the table. She wanted to argue, call him out for assuming too much, but the air between them grew heavy, pressing in. She rose and began stacking the dishes to keep busy.
She didn’t get far. Rolani grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his lap.
His hand slid over her thigh, keeping her there.
Her mind raced. Fight or flight, but instead she shifted just enough to meet his gorgeous eyes, no smirk this time.
He allowed the silence to linger before speaking again, softer now.
“I enjoyed the fuck outta you last night,” he said against her ear, before placing a soft kiss that made her sigh in pleasure. “Every inch. Every second. Every moan.”
Kennedi swallowed, her pride burning, her body betraying her anyway. “Don’t start.”
“I already started,” he said, mouth brushing her temple.
His phone buzzed, breaking the moment. She turned her head, thankful for the interruption.
“Woo, what’s good?”
Kennedi stilled, mug hovering just beneath her lips. A child? The thought hit first. She hadn’t prepared herself for that possibility, hadn’t prepared herself to care about it. Did she care?
She moved to get up and give him privacy, put space between herself and something that wasn’t hers.
His arm wrapped around her waist without looking. Stay.
He put the phone on speaker.
“Not yet, I'll be back Monday or Tuesday,” he said, voice softer now. “Everything okay?”
The girl’s voice wavered on the other end. “Uncle Ro, Dad’s upset. I don’t think Mom’s coming back for me. Can I stay with you forever since he doesn’t want me?”
Not a daughter. A niece. And the change in his tone, calm, steady, grounded, settled over her in a way she didn’t expect.
“Monroe Sade Pracher,” he said, calm but firm. “Your daddy loves the ground you walk on. Don’t let his mood fool you. This is grown folks’ business, Babygirl. I’ll be back soon, and we’ll handle it. Promise.”
Her voice brightened. “Okay… did I get shoes?”
“Yeah, like three pair, Rotten Roe.”
Monroe giggled at her nickname, and Kennedi bit back a laugh, too. The girl cracked up harder when she whispered about Buffalo Cheez-Its, and Rolani shook his head, grinning.
“Georgie gon’ kill you about all that processed food,” he told her.
“Sometimes you just ask forgiveness instead of permission,” Monroe chirped. “You know that, Unc.”
“I do know that. I taught you that.”
“Oh, and did I get that other thing I asked for?”
Rolani rubbed his neck, wishing he could tell her yes, but his fish on the line was giving him hell. “Aye, I love you, Roe. I’ll check in later.”
“So that’s a no on the auntie?”
“Soon. Monroe, I’ll hit you later,” he said, laughing before disconnecting the line.
Kennedi raised a brow. “An auntie, huh? Is that why you’re on my bumper so hard?”
“What my niece wants, she usually gets. Sorry.” He shrugged, unbothered.
When the food came, Kennedi laid it out again, the scent of her body wash slipping through the room. Rolani couldn’t stop watching her, couldn’t shake the way the whole suite felt domestic.
They ate silently, each bite heavy with unspoken thoughts. The silence surrounded them, filled with questions she wasn’t prepared to confront. Was last night an error, or the beginning of something unpredictable? He mentioned that she was his wife, and it didn’t seem like an accident.
Finally, Kennedi set her fork down, eyes avoiding his. “Rolani…”