Chapter 24 #4
Within minutes, they’d rolled in portable tables and trays of oils, setting up on the deck that overlooked the sweeping fields of the ranch.
Horses grazed in the distance, the faint sound of hooves drifting through the air, mixing with the rustle of wind in the trees.
The whole place radiated peace and intention.
Black-owned luxury, clearly built with them in mind.
Lavender oil drifted into the breeze as the therapists prepped, and Kennedi caught Rolani’s eye across the room. He was leaning against the doorway, watching her with that same smirk from earlier. She shook her head, biting her lip to hide her grin, but it was no use.
They both knew what had almost happened.
And the promise of what would happen later had them fighting smirks like teenagers sneaking around, high off each other and the thrill of almost getting caught—only this time, they were wrapped in the safety and luxury of a space designed for them to indulge.
“Y’all want music or nature sounds?” the lead therapist asked, hands hovering over the sleek Bluetooth speaker on her cart.
“Nature sounds,” Kennedi answered quickly, needing the calm after what Rolani had pulled on her.
An hour later, they were both liquid, boneless.
Every muscle, loose. Every ounce of tension, gone.
The lavender oil still clung to their skin, and the faint sound of crickets and swaying trees lingered in the background.
Kennedi felt ridiculous trying to remind herself she was not at work, that she wouldn’t turn this into a travel article about the most romantic Black-owned ranch she’d ever seen.
But she knew damn well her writer’s mind was already forming paragraphs.
The therapists packed up quietly, leaving them alone in their villa, the heavy door clicking shut like a promise.
“I can’t move,” Rolani groaned, lying flat on the chaise in the corner. His robe was open, chains glinting against his chest, and that thick dick print pressing against his thigh like it was begging her to come see about him.
Kennedi stretched, then moved across the room with that slow, fluid grace he could never get enough of. When she was standing over him, hands on her hips, he cracked one eye open. The lazy grin that spread across his face told her he already knew what was coming.
She dropped her robe without a word, the silk slipping down her shoulders and pooling at her feet. He sat up, smirk sharp, eyes burning, and caught the lace of her panties at the waist. With one tug, he slid them down slowly, groaning when he saw the wet sheen dripping down her inner thigh.
His lips brushed her stomach, kissing the swell of her belly where their son was growing, lingering there before kissing lower.
“You wet enough to drown a nigga,” he said, voice gravel thick.
She didn't hesitate. She climbed onto his lap, and they spent the rest of the afternoon making up for every day they’d been apart. When they finally stilled, tangled and breathless, sleep pulled them both under before either of them could say a word.
The nap was exactly what they needed, deep and heavy after being stretched out, satisfied, and massaged down to the bone.
When Kennedi stirred, the room was dim, the sun dipping low and washing the walls in warm light.
Rolani was still knocked out beside her, one arm slung across her waist. Even in his dreams, he wasn’t letting her go.
She turned, studying his face. Lashes resting against his cheek, lips parted with each slow breath. On impulse, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, then another to his lips.
His hazel eyes cracked open, lazy but sharp, locking on her instantly. “Mmm. Best way I’ve ever been woke up,” he rasped, voice heavy from sleep.
“Dinner’s in a little bit,” she whispered. “You should get up.”
“Nah,” he groaned, pulling her back against his chest. “Dinner can wait. This right here can’t.”
She laughed softly, wriggling out of his grip. “Come on. If you’re good, I’ll save dessert for later.”
That got him moving.
They showered together, the steam fogging the glass while his hands lingered everywhere.
He washed her body carefully, working the loofa.
She returned the favor, dragging soapy hands over the planes of his chest, laughing when he pulled her under the spray to steal another kiss.
By the time they stepped out, the bathroom was a cloud of heat, and their bodies glowed.
Kennedi took her time getting ready, slipping into the short designer dress she’d packed for this night.
It hugged her curves perfectly, shimmering when she moved.
Strappy heels, designer too, clicked against the hardwood as she walked across the room.
Her makeup was light, to glow, but her boho braids—long, swinging past her ass—were the real crown.
Glossy ropes that brushed against her bare shoulders like an accessory all their own.
Rolani was buttoning his shirt when she came out. He froze mid-motion, eyes trailing from her head to her heels with no shame. His expression was all hunger and admiration.
“God. Damn.” His voice was low, reverent.
She smirked, slipping her earrings in. “I wanted to look nice.”
“You look so damn good,” he muttered, finally finishing the last button but still staring.
When she went to buckle her heel, he crossed the room before she could bend down.
“I got you,” he said, dropping to one knee.
His big hands held her ankle steady as he fastened the delicate strap, then lingered there, thumb stroking her skin.
He looked up at her with that slow grin, like he knew exactly what kind of spell he was putting her under.
“Careful,” she teased, though her voice was softer now.
Dinner was waiting when they stepped onto the private patio. A candlelit table set for two, overlooking the rolling fields of the ranch, as lanterns flickered in the trees. Soft R&B played low in the background, the scent of seared steak and fresh herbs rising from the covered trays.
Kennedi sat, crossing her legs, her dress rising higher on her thighs. Rolani’s eyes dropped instantly, but he forced himself back to the moment, raising his glass of wine.
She clinked her glass of sparkling water against his, smiling. “To us.”
“To us,” he echoed, but his eyes told her exactly what he was really thinking: To forever.
The wine went down smooth. But none of it compared to the way Rolani kept staring at her across the table, candlelight catching in his hazel eyes, his grin lazy but real, like he couldn't even help himself.
“I can’t believe I got you here,” he said finally, shaking his head as if he didn’t quite believe she was real. “Dress sittin’ right, skin glowing… Kennedi, you really don’t even know how fine you are, do you?”
She ducked her head, biting back a smile, pretending to focus on her plate. “You’re laying it on thick tonight.”
“Nah,” he said, voice low, steady in a way that made her pulse skip. “I’m just tellin’ the truth. I know being pregnant hasn’t been easy, but you are still beautiful.”
Her fork paused midway to her lips. That wasn’t flirtation. That was weight. And when she looked up again, his eyes were locked on hers, daring her to look away.
“Ro…” she started, voice uncertain.
He set his glass down, leaning forward now, his whole posture changing. The smirk was gone.
“I ain’t gon’ front,” he said, his tone rough like the words were heavy in his chest. He gestured around them—the candlelight, the dinner, the private setup at the ranch.
“This is a small fraction of the life I want to ensure you have. This is light work compared to what I see when I picture us. I want your smile so deep it doesn’t fade when life gets heavy.
I want your safety to be so secure that it’s never a concern.
I want to ensure that when you close your eyes next to me, you ain’t worried about shit ‘cause I got it handled.”
He leaned back, and the silence stretched, thick and tender, broken only by the sound of crickets and the faint rustle of leaves outside. Kennedi’s heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again, emotions crowding her throat.
All she could do was stare at him — at this man who wore his chains and his scars and still managed to hand her the softest, most unshakable thing she’d ever been given.
He’d solidified his spot in her life and worked hard at it.