Chapter 18 Pluto Mensah
Trill-Land, Jungle Estate
I was still sitting in bed while Pressure was on the patio, and it was crazy how quiet the room felt without him.
The boys had finally knocked out and Zurie had gone to sleep, so the house should have felt calm, yet my mind wouldn’t settle for anything.
I kept thinking about everything Pressure had been doing these past few weeks, everything he had been trying to fix, and everything I had been feeling as a woman who loved her husband but needed him to truly hear her.
I ran my finger over the hem of my silk gown, the soft blue fabric slipping across my skin like water.
The gown flowed around me every time I moved, and my hair hung down my back in this long, heavy wave that made me feel feminine and soft, even though my heart had been tight for days.
Loving a man like Pressure was intense because he was everything at once.
He was dominant and stubborn and spoiled in his ways, but he was also loving and protective and the kind of father that little girls prayed for and little boys admired.
He just had to learn that loving me meant listening too.
Three weeks…
Three whole weeks without letting him touch me, and it wasn’t because I didn’t want him, but because I needed him to understand that my body wasn’t something he could gamble with when he felt like being reckless.
I had carried two babies back-to-back. I had bled and healed and pushed through nights where my body felt like it didn’t even belong to me.
I needed him to respect the simple boundary of not nutting inside me when I told him I wasn’t ready for another pregnancy.
And God knows I loved him more than anything, but sometimes loving a powerful man meant teaching him how to love you the right way.
Pressure had been trying though, and that was the part that kept tugging at me.
He had been getting up early to take Zurie to school every morning, making sure she ate, brushing out her little ponytails when I was too tired to do it, and letting her climb all over him like he was her own personal jungle gym.
He would adjust her seatbelt, kiss her cheek, and say, “My Z, if anybody bother you today, you already know who to call,” and she would smile.
He would rush home to grab Kaylon out of my arms before I even had the chance to protest, saying things like, “Come here, lil’ man, let yo’ mama breathe for a second,” and then he would walk around with him on his shoulder while handling his business calls.
He had been going to Club 9 Dining more often to make sure things were running smooth and still finding time to stop by the Trillium warehouse to check on the inventory because he didn’t trust anybody but himself with his brand.
And somehow he still found time to sit with Prestyn and race cars with him across the floor until the boy wore himself out laughing.
And the crazy part was, he wasn’t doing any of it because I told him to.
I sighed and slid out of bed because sitting here wasn’t helping.
I walked over to the bar across the room, grabbed a clean wine glass and poured myself a little rosé.
The pink liquid caught the light from the lamp, and for a second I just stared at it, thinking about how tired I was of feeling tense in my own home.
I didn’t want to be mad anymore. I didn’t want to punish a man who was trying. I didn’t want to keep pretending that sleeping beside him every night without touching him didn’t hurt me too.
He was my husband, and I was his wife. We were learning each other, and we were growing.
I took a slow sip of my wine and walked toward the patio doors.
The glass slid open easy, letting in the warm night air from the jungle estate.
The lights around the pool glowed soft, and I could hear the leaves rustling from the breeze.
Pressure was sitting in one of the black chairs near the table with his legs stretched out and a blunt balanced between his fingers as he stared into the night like something out there was calling to him.
He looked too damn good for me to be staying mad this long.
His haircut was fresh, his waves catching the light from the patio lamp, and that thick, healthy beard of his made my stomach knot in the best way. His shoulders were broad, tattoos running across his biceps, and even from here I could see the way his chest puffed up.
He glanced over when he heard the door, and the moment our eyes met, something in my spirit softened.
“Wussup, baby,” he said, his voice low and rough from smoking.
“Hey,” I replied, sitting in the chair next to him.
He watched me take another sip of my wine, his eyes roaming over my gown like he was trying not to stare too hard. The tension between us was warm instead of cold tonight, and that alone made me breathe easier.
For a moment neither of us spoke, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
“I been thinking,” I finally said.
He looked at me fully then. “About what?”
“Us,” I said softly. “About how much we’ve been trying, and how much we’ve been messing up too.”
His eyes lowered a little, guilt moving across his expression even though he didn’t say anything yet.
“I know you’ve been trying,” I continued. “I see it. I see you with the kids. I see you working. I see you taking care of everything without complaining, and I know why you been doing it.”
He exhaled like my words touched something he had been holding.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I meant that shit the first time I said it, and I mean it every time after. I should’ve listened. You told me what you needed, and I ain’t respect it.”
He looked at my legs then reached over and gently lifted my feet, placing them across his lap like it was second nature. His hands were big and warm around my ankles, and when he started rubbing slow circles into the arch of my foot, my whole body loosened.
“And I ain’t gon’ lie,” he said, still massaging me. “You not touchin’ me these past weeks been drivin’ me fuckin’ insane. But you was right. You had every right to feel how you felt.”
His thumbs pressed deeper into the soles of my feet, and a soft breath escaped me because damn… this man knew exactly what he was doing.
He looked up at me again, his eyes softer now. “You my everything, Pluto. Don’t shit in this house work without you. I know that. I been knowin’ that. And I ain’t tryna lose no pieces of you just ‘cause I’m a hardheaded nigga who think love mean doin’ whatever I feel like.”
He lifted my foot and pressed a slow kiss against the top of it. The gesture was so gentle and tender that my throat warmed instantly.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too, mama,” he said, rubbing my foot again, slower this time.
We talked a little longer about the kids and how Zurie wanted him to come to her father-daughter dance, and he promised he would wear a tie just because she liked when he dressed up.
He told me about Club 9 Dining and how Renza had gotten into it with a chef again, and I told him about Zurie’s class project and how Kaylon had finally rolled over by himself today.
The wine was warm in my system, and the night was soft around us.
I finished my glass and set it aside, then stood and walked inside, knowing he was following without even looking back.
When he reached me at the edge of the bed, I touched the side of his face gently.
“I want you,” I said.
His eyes flicked to mine to make sure I meant it. “You sure?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “I’m sure.”
The look he gave me right then felt like the ground shifted.
He lifted me easily and laid me back against the sheets, his hands sliding over my gown as he kissed me slow and deep like he had been starving for it.
His mouth moved over mine with a hunger he didn’t try to hide, and the second his lips found my bottom one, he sucked it into his mouth and kissed me so passionately my whole body softened beneath him.
The tension between us melted away as he pushed the gown up, and his body moved over mine with a tenderness that felt brand new. His weight settled between my legs, and when he pressed his chest to mine, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders automatically, needing every inch of him close.
He kissed my chin, then the corner of my mouth, then the bridge of my nose, moving slow and deep like he needed to reacquaint himself with every part of me.
Then he slid down to my neck, sucking my skin into his mouth until I breathed his name in a shaky whisper.
He kissed along my collarbone, then came back up to my lips, kissing me again like he couldn’t stop himself.
“I missed you baby,” he murmured against my mouth, his voice low and heavy. “I missed my wife. I missed my pussy. I missed everything about you.”
I rubbed the back of his neck gently because his voice cracked just enough for me to feel it in my stomach. His forehead rested against mine, and he kissed me again, slower this time, and deeper, like he was apologizing in a language only our bodies understood.
He pushed his sweats down and slid his dick inside me raw because that was us, and the moment he entered me, both of us let out quiet sounds we couldn’t control.
My legs wrapped around him tight, and he slid one hand underneath my thigh to pull me closer while he buried himself fully, pressing his chest into mine until our hearts felt synced.
He moved slow at first, deep and intentional, letting each stroke settle into me like he was reminding my body who it belonged to. His lips stayed on mine, then drifted to my jaw, then my neck, kissing me again and again until my breath trembled.
“I’m so sorry, baby. I hate the space we had between us. I hated sleepin’ alone. I hated not touchin’ you.”