ᴍᴏᴛɪᴇsʜᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴘᴋɪɴɢ (#1 ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇʟʟs ᴛʀɪʟᴏɢʏ)✓

36: Tiesha And The Mood

Ky’Mon had been making plans from the moment he found out Tiesha was pregnant.

No matter how hard he tried, he could never put into words the joy that sat in his chest, heavy and warm, every time he thought about her carrying his child.

But lately, they’d been fighting. She’d been bratty, mouthy—pushing every button he had. And he wasn’t in the mood to take that shit from anybody, least of all her.

He had just finished in the bathroom, washed his hands, and stepped out into the bedroom.

Tiesha was lying across the bed in nothing but a sports bra and the tiniest pair of lace panties, her baby bump stretching her skin in a way that somehow made her look even more beautiful.

His phone was in her hand, her thumbs flying across the screen.

Damn, he thought. That’s one sexy-ass woman. And she’s mine.

He rolled his eyes, tugging off his hoodie and sliding out of his slippers. From the drawer, he pulled a blunt and lighter.

Tiesha spread her legs without looking up, letting him slide in between them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“Why you gotta press my phone till it’s dead when yours got full bars?” he asked, settling between her thighs.

“’Cause I love you,” she answered, plugging his phone into the charger and going right back to scrolling.

“That’s some shitty-ass excuse.”

He lit the blunt, stuck it between his lips, and let the first pull burn through his chest. Music played low in the background.

He sighed without realizing it, and her head turned toward him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just can’t wait for your annoying ass to push my baby out.”

It wasn’t the truth, not the whole truth. Yeah, he wanted to meet his child, but the sigh was because Zane had been making moves again—more threats, more heat.

And Ky’Mon was starting to think Zane had a partner in this. He just had to figure out who and erase them both, permanently.

But he had to do it while keeping Tiesha and the baby safe.

She slapped his chest lightly, making him choke on smoke.

“You tryna kill me, woman?!” he coughed, getting up to glare at her.

She stuck out her tongue. He smacked her thigh, then rolled off to lie beside her.

Without hesitation, she straddled him, unclasping her bra.

She was heavier now, but not in a way that bothered him. Her tits had gotten bigger—full, perfect and he wasn’t complaining.

She started to grind on his dick, singing along to the song like she didn’t know what she was doing to him.

“Don’t be doing that unless you wanna get fucked,” he warned.

Her laugh was soft as she leaned forward, kissing his lips.

With the blunt in his right hand, his left palm slid over the curve of her ass, squeezing. He took another puff, blew smoke across her nipple, then closed his mouth over it.

“So I’m thinking baby names,” she said lazily. “John Paul for a boy, Jeanette for a girl.”

Her nipple popped out of his mouth as he gave her a look. “No offense, but those names are lame.”