Air Travel Banned to the United States

The government’s official Twitter sent the announcement, which means I’m fucked. 

I can’t leave. 

Espada had something to do with this. That fucker. August and I made plans. Now it might not matter if I’m pregnant.

“Shit.” August's phone slides to my lap. 

I look for August, searching for him through tangles of waxy leaves. Workers crouch among the rows of bushes, their baskets filled with red cherries. August split one to show me the unprocessed coffee bean. Then he disappeared to oversee the harvest. 

I need to find him.

I move from the shelter of the eaves. It’s a busy day. I bump into a wheelbarrow loaded with the round fruit. Berries from the pile spill to the ground.

“Sorry!” I gather them, scratching dirt off their skins.

“It’s okay.” A man with a face like tanned leather readjusts his hat after wiping his brow.

“Excuse me. Do you know where my husband is?”

“Augusto?” He points in the general direction of the cacao orchard.

I heave a sigh. “Thanks.”

I stroll through the heat, fighting the impulse to run inside the air-conditioned building. The weather is muggy, like a damp towel held over my nose. My stomach was raw when I woke. I didn’t relish a thirty-minute bumpy ride into town, so I tagged along with August. Usually, I don’t sit on my ass and watch people toil. 

But I’m tired. And sick. The cloying scent of jungle hangs around me like perfume. Most of the time, it’s pleasant. Like strolling into a florist’s. Today, the sweetness digs at my gut. I can’t breathe without inhaling moisture. My shirt sticks to my chest. It’s hard to keep my eyes open. They’re heavy with fatigue, even though I slept in. In California, where temperatures rose in the hundreds, walking outdoors never was this laborious. 

Where’s August? 

I call his name, apologizing to the farmers who laugh at my clumsy Lo sientos. I shouldn’t have come. This sickness won’t let me function. I thought I’d volunteer—help them sort through beans—but I have zero energy. Reading that tweet sapped my strength.

The field of cacao trees spreads near the north entrance of the processing building. I marvel at the bloated pods hanging on trunks. Among them, I find August. He thumbs a white flower on a trunk, his gaze stormy. Two workers stand beside him. 

“They’re dying.” August loosens the thick blade from his belt. “I’ll take a look.”

He swings, the machete sinking into the bright-green fruit. A deafening crack reverberates through the forest as a fissure opens. He hacks again. It splits, and he grabs tangles of slime, searching the flesh for a bean. 

It lies in his palm. Shriveled. Stunted.

August frowns. “Maybe there’s not enough acid in the soil.”

“Hey.”

He looks up, smiling. “Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

With a soft word to the others, he joins my side. “What is it?”

“Not here.” Beaming at the men, I guide August into a thicket. “We can’t be overheard. What’s wrong with the trees?”

He shrugs, eyes glazed with fatigue. “I think it’s nothing. Some of them are sick, but we can handle it.” He quirks an eyebrow. “What’s up? I’m a little busy.”

I show him the tweet. 

He studies the text and wipes droplets of moisture from his lip. “Shit.”

“What does it mean?”

“My old man is a fucking bastard.”

Damn. “We can’t leave.”

“You can.” He takes my shoulder. What’s meant as a comfort feels like a heavy compress. “We need to visit the embassy.”

I nod, swallowing hard. “Okay.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Not great. My mood tanked when I saw the news.”

August pulls me into his damp chest, stroking my back. It doesn’t matter how filthy he gets working outside. Trapped in his embrace, I’m safe. Loved. 

“We’ll get through this, Lily. I promise.” He kisses my head and tries to disengage. “Babe, I’ve got to work.”

I ball my fists in his shirt, butterflies soaring. “I like when these moments linger. We don’t know how many we’ll have.”

“Enough to last forever.” 

Will it? “What happens when your father decides you can’t leave your house?”

“Then we break out.”

“What if—?”

His kiss silences my protest. He pushes me against a tree, fingers gouging my waist. My pain dims to a dull ache as a growl builds in his throat. 

The sound vibrates through his body, and it’s like a finger rubbing my pussy. Primal. Hot. We tear apart.

He squeezes me. “We have to keep trying.”

More pregnancy tests. More nights of August moaning into my neck. 

Everything will be fine. “Here?”

His whisper blasts my ear. “Yes.”

This is insane. “We can’t.”

His hip nudges my leg, an iron hardness rolling over me. “I’m ready.”

“Yeah, but…shouldn’t we move somewhere private?” I laugh as he snaps a button from my shorts. “August.”

“What? We agreed to set aside time for this.” He tugs them, hooking my panties with ease. “It’s important.”

“They’re standing there!” I yank them up my thighs, but August bats my hand. “We should go to your office.”

“Fucking you over the desk?” He considers it. “That’s appealing, but so is this.”

He turns me, shifting into the beast that can’t get enough of me. I face the forest, hands covering my groin. “They’ll hear us!”

“Then you better be quiet.”

Unbelievable. 

He pushes my back. I stumble, catching myself on a tree. 

“Such a sweet, sexy little thing,” he purrs, nuzzling me. “Be a good girl and don’t yell.”

“I’ll try.”

My promise falters the moment his cock touches my thigh. He drags it up, and I sigh a thin stream of air. He stops inches from my pussy. My teeth sink into my lip. He slides between my folds, teasing but not entering. I’m soaked and aching before long. 

“Don’t make a sound.”

Then he yanks me by the hair. I moan. August punishes me with a slap on my ass, not because he’s a sex-crazed brute. He can be gentle, but we prefer it when it hurts. 

He slips in my wetness until his self-control shatters. I spread apart. I’m shaking in my attempt to keep silent, but it’s too damn great. I’ll scream. 

He enters me with a violent thrust.

I groan. It’s loud.

August stuffs fingers into my mouth. I bite, trembling with the satisfaction of having that ache filled. My palms skate over the bark. He fucks me with brutal force. I brace my head, absorbing the blows that are like wet slaps.

His grunts rise into passionate shouts. The men will hear him. I don’t think he cares. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t fall for the sensitive guy I met online. I fell for the beast who shocked me with his strength. His passion for me. His fury when I was almost taken away.

August is much more than the snappy lines of text that made me fawn, but right now he’s just a man. And that’s all I need him to be.

Another plunge buckles my arms. He yanks my hips as he buries himself, so deep I shriek into the hand forcing me into silence. An orgasm rips through his legs, channeling into mine. 

He turns me around, and I collapse in his embrace. “Are you okay?” 

It takes a while for the madness to fade from August’s eyes. He heaves gasps. A shiver runs down my spine as the orgasmic wave recedes. A throbbing pressure replaces the joy. 

August kisses my cheek and puts me down. “Come on. Let’s get a shower. There are some we could—Lily?”

Everything tilts to the side. August catches me. 

“It’s the heat. I’m a little—overwhelmed.”

Doubt creeps into his voice. “You looked like you were about to faint.”

I do feel lightheaded and queasy. I take a step forward, and the world swims. “Something’s not right.”

“Sit,” he barks before making me crouch. “Don’t move.”

He crashes away, returning with a glass. 

I drink deeply. “I didn’t realize how thirsty I was.”

He touches my neck and curses himself. “Your pulse is racing.”

“Yeah, ’cause you fucked me to oblivion.”

“No,” he says, boding no argument. “We need to see a doctor.”

“Dehydration,” August translates. “And you’re low on electrolytes.”

I sink into the pillows. 

I was hoping for August to be wrong, for once. “Great.”

Despite my protests, we drove to the nearest hospital. A dozen people filled the waiting room in Emergency, but once the staff realized who August was, they admitted me. 

I hate that. In my country, we wait for our damn turn. August wouldn’t stand for it. Three cheers for nepotism.

August hasn’t relaxed since they put me on a saline drip. “It’s not good.”

I watch him fuss over the blankets, torn between amusement at his mothering and annoyance. “I’m fine.”

“Have you been eating?” He feels my forehead. “You’re cold.”

“No, I’m not. It’s stifling.” I kick the sheets and sit upright. “I haven’t eaten as much as I should have. The heat’s getting to me.”

His eyebrows knit together. “You’ve been sick?”

“A little.” I laugh when he looks horrified. “It’s okay. I caught a stomach bug. Did he test for parasites?”

August asks the question. 

The doctor, a beefy, middle-aged man with a thin mustache and no neck, responds in rapid-fire Spanish. 

“What?” August’s reaction is alarming. “Are you sure?”

This is maddening. “What did he say?”

August blanches. Another bewildering exchange flies between them. I can’t make sense of their conversation.

“Hey!” I bang my elbow against the table. “What the hell is going on?”

“Just a second, Lily.” Shaking, August reaches into his pocket and withdraws a wallet full of cash. 

The doctor’s encouraging smile fades. “No, it’s not permitted.”

“I insist,” he bursts. “Keep it quiet.”

Under August’s fierce gaze, he caves. “I’ll see what I can do. No promises.”

The doctor folds the lump of money. He hides the bills in his white coat, his grin widening when he faces me. “Congratulations!” 

An odd response…unless. “Holy shit.”

The physician leaves the room, closing the door. August acts as though he’s been injected with slow-acting poison. Pale as death, he sinks into a chair.

My heart hammers in my throat. “It’s what I think it is—right?”

August unbuttons his cornflower blue shirt, his eyes glazed with emotion. He takes my hand. 

“Yes.” His lips touch my knuckles. “You’re pregnant.”

“We did it.” I swell with wild happiness. “Oh my God.”

“We’re having a baby.” August wipes his cheeks. “I didn’t realize how this would feel.”

What will it look like? I imagine a mix between my fair skin and his olive tones, with brilliant hazel eyes. “This is great news.”

“I knew it was possible, but still.” He shakes his head in wide-eyed wonder. “I’m going to be a dad. Blows my mind.”

Fear replaces the joy. “Your father will find out. What then?”

“He won’t. I bribed the doctor.” August stares at my lap. “We’ll have to hide it the best we can. That means keeping my brother in the dark.”

“That will be hard.” I bite my lip, hating the thought of lying. “Are you sure we can’t bring him into the fold?”

“I don’t trust him. At first opportunity, he’ll tell the general about your condition. And then you’ll never leave.”

He squeezes me. “Promise me you’ll keep it quiet.”

“Of course.” 

Nothing matters but our family.