Y/n's POV
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I finished buttoning up my shirt, rolling my sleeves up to my elbows as I checked myself in the mirror. I was in a white button-up and tailored suit pants, sitting right--clean, nothing extra.
I reached for my watch, strapping it on before grabbing my chain from the nightstand and letting it rest against my chest.
Beyoncé had been up. Left a nigga in bed while she handled shit with Kyle. I could hear her voice floating up from downstairs, soft but firm, talking to our son like he ran the house--which let's be real, that lil' nigga kind of did.
If he cried for attention, that's what he got. If he wanted to be held, he was getting scooped up, no hesitation. If he ain't like the food on his plate, best believe my wife was fixing him something else. That boy had her wrapped around his lil' finger, and he knew it.
I grinned to myself, shaking my head as I grabbed my phone and keys before making my way out the room. My steps were slow as I headed down the stairs, the smell of eggs and toast creeping up the closer I got to the kitchen.
There she was, standing at the counter, fixing Kyle's plate while he sat in his high chair, babbling about his favorite thing in the world right now--apples.
"Apple! Apple!" Kyle smacked the tray, hype as hell.
Beyoncé giggled, slicing one up and placing it on his plate. "I know baby, I see the apples."
I leaned against the counter, watching my lil' man. "My boy finna eat good." I grinned, reaching over to ruffle his curls before turning to Beyoncé.
I walked up behind her as she continued to use the knife. My arms slid around her waist, pulling her in. "Why yo ass always leavin' me in bed?" I mumbled against her neck, dropping a slow, lingering kiss right there.
The sound of footsteps coming our way caught our attention, making me pull away as we both looked to the side to see Kyle's babysitter walk into the kitchen. She greeted me--I guess already had spoken to Bey--before pulling up a stool next to Kyle.
I turned my attention back to Bey, my head immediately going back into her neck. I bit down, humming as I felt her breath catch as she shivered slightly.
"Baby." She whispered, and I just knew her eyes were cutting towards the babysitter.
"What?" I dragged my lips up the side of her neck, planting another kiss just below her jaw. "I can't love on my wife before I go?"
She giggled, nudging my chest with her elbow as one of my hands went low, brushing against the front of her robe, right over the spot I knew too well. "You know what you doin'." She said, shaking her head. "Tryna give this poor girl a show."
I pulled back just enough to grin at her as she turned around in my arms. "Let ha take notes, ion love nobody like I love you."
She let out a breath, tryna act like I wasn't getting to her, but that lil' smile creeping onto her lips gave her away. "Girl, get out of here." She kissed my lips before pushing me to the door.
"Aight, aight, I'm goin'." I laughed grabbing my keys. "I'll see you at work." I threw a wink her way before stepping outside, already knowing that she was rolling her eyes behind me.
Soon as I pulled off, 2Pac's Ambitions Az a Ridah played loud ass fuck through the speakers, rattling the driveway.
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The firm was already busy when I stepped inside. Phones ringing, people moving around.
I dapped up my coworkers--my boys, kinda. "Look at my favorite group of Caucasians." I grinned, throwing an arm around Mike's shoulder.
