Jamaica

I’m so pregnant I can hardly move but I don’t care one bit as I watch my husband throw Gabby into the air, her shrieks before she hits the water making me grin and stroke my huge belly as I cradle the phone.

“Oh come on, Em, just let me come over there and beat someone up. Please! I haven’t seen any action in months.” I whine, grinning when Santiago hears this and looks over at me with a naughty glint in his eyes.

“That is a lie, Bella, my love! You see action at least twice a day.”

Gabby asks him what action is and I giggle when he flushes and tries to tell her it’s getting my feet rubbed. Yeah, he does do that. But he rubs a hell of a lot more than my feet, let me tell ya.

“No, Jay, it’s fine.” Emma huffs, her usual attempt at upbeat shyness flagging beneath whatever is going on in her life right now.

I hate hearing this much stress in her voice but I content myself with the knowledge that it’s about damn time she got out and started forcing herself to live.

I talked to Buck just recently and, according to him, Em seems to be crushing on some guy at work, who I don’t know yet but I’m hopeful that she’ll come out of that shell and actually find love.

Or sex. No one should live this long without knowing what sex feels like.

I feel myself heat between my legs at the thought of sex, with my husband, and moan because it’s only late afternoon now and I still have hours to get through before he rocks my world.

The man is insatiable lately and tells me without a scrap of apology that he has a very real fetish for seeing my belly swollen with his child and hopes to see me swollen a lot more in the future.

Suits me just fine.

I just got through a particularly grueling case where I had to track down an eight-year-old girl named Sophia. She was adopted by a couple in Madrid and then disappeared with them.

It’s taken me two months and a lot of yelling and bribery - have I mentioned that my husband is super rich and gives me whatever I want - but I found her.

Living in a brothel that fronts as a bar. Those animals had her and two other kids there, working like slaves in the back of the house, doing the cleaning and odd jobs.

Thank God it wasn’t anything else but when I found that out - thanks to Bill, the sly bastard - I used his services to make those animals disappear.

I knew they’d only get some soft time and I couldn’t stand the thought of them ever seeing daylight again. Happily, they won’t be seeing anything but a Russian gulag for the rest of their lives.

Bill is very useful. And bloodthirsty.

“Jay?”

I snap out of it and focus on Emma who seems…out of sorts and feel myself grin when I hear Buck and his girlfriend August arguing in the background. Again.

“Listen, Em, if you need a break, a job, hell, someone taken out, please just come to me. You know I’m always here,” I say softly, wishing that she was secure enough to trust me fully and give me more space in her little world.

“I’m fine, Jay, promise.”

I snort because she isn’t, I can hear it. I just pray that if she ever needs me that she’ll let me be there for her.

I rub my belly distractedly and listen as she tells me about her crazy boss Mira, the two perverts that work in her office - side note, I will have Bill look into them and kill them if they go near my Emma - and just generally shoot the shit with her while Santiago and Gabby swim and Nona keeps up her knitting.

I cringe when I see it shaping up into a pair of booties and what I assume is a blanket, my eyeball twitching at the thought of my kid being swaddled in that hot mess.

“So, what’s up with Buck lately?”

“He’s so totally in love with August but he’s too stubborn to see it. My guess is that she hits him over the head with it. She reminds me a lot of you, Jay. She takes what she wants,” Em says, the words more compliment than what one would believe.

“She sounds like a great girl.” I laugh, getting a rare chuckle from Emma.

“I think she is. Uh, listen, Jay, I need some advice. I think I should maybe know about sex.”

I choke on the juice I’m drinking and start spluttering, my shock and delight morphing into horror when Santiago jumps out of the pool and starts my way.

When he gets to me I spit juice and lung juices all over him, coughing until he hands me a glass of water and sits down beside me, his face worried.

I mouth Emma and sex at him and he rears back before grinning and trying to take the phone.

“Hands off! I’ve waited four and a half years for this day,” I say tearfully, sniffing when Emma sighs with exasperated humor and patiently waits for me to get over my meltdown.

“Oh Emma, you don’t even know what this means to me. Now! The first thing you have to know about sex is that it isn’t always good the first time.”

Santiago snorts and I roll my eyes, shooting him a glare because according to him when he popped Lena’s cherry he made good on all the experience he had.

Barf. Like I wanted to hear all about that whore and her apparently virginal pu-

Bad word, Jamaica! Don’t even think it, the baby might hear.

“Erm, yeah, okay. Anything else?” she asks, sounding mortified that we’re having this conversation.

Santiago’s ear is plastered to the side of the phone and I see his grin when I buff my nails and settle down to school Emma about everything available in bed, besides kink. I ain’t telling no one what me and Santiago do behind closed doors.

“We should start with basic dick anatomy…” I drawl, making my husband splutter and shake with laughter while Nona pretends not to hear and Gabby swims, unaware of the momentousness of this occasion.

My Em, my baby is going to have her first dick. I can hardly wait to hear how it goes.

We speak for a good thirty minutes while Emma gasps, throws the phone down twice and calls me back because yeah, I know she gonna be a freak once she feels the good good.

By the time I’ve imparted my vast store of knowledge and Gabby is inside eating an early supper with Nona, I have Santiago so revved up he doesn’t bother to say anything, just picks me up and runs for our bedroom.

I scream the moment his mouth closes around my breast, the naughty man grinning when I pant and squeak and try not to yell as his finger goes south and finds me ready.

What? Talking about sex makes me hot, okay? Doubly so when my husband is sitting there looking edible, trying to hide a boner beneath a towel and listening raptly about everything I like.

It’s basic math people!

He does me ooooh so right and when he’s lying beside me, his hand smoothing lovingly over my belly where our son kicks, I know that I made the best deal of my life marrying this man.

He tells me I’m the boss all the time, but really if this is his work ethic, I will gladly hand over the reins.

“I really love you, Isabella.” He breathes into my neck, the sound of his even deep breaths lulling me into near sleep.

“Love you too, bossy boots.”