Bodyguard (YN x Beyonce)

Part Thirty-Seven

It had been weeks since we brought Rumi and Sir home, and if I was being honest... I didn't know what day it was. I was living by feeding times, diaper counts, and whichever twin decided to bless or curse me with a nap. The living room looked like a baby store exploded.

Beyoncé was rocking Rumi on her chest, her lashes fluttering like she might knock out at any moment.

Sir had finally dozed off. A miracle. The first stretch of quiet we'd had in hours. I leaned back, trying not to let my body groan too loud from exhaustion. This wasn't just parenthood... this was war. And I was loving every second of it. Mostly.

Beyoncé looked up at me, sleepy but smiling. "You're doing so good."

I snorted. "I feel like I haven't showered in days. I've been wearing mismatched clothes all week."

"You still look sexy baby." she mumbled.

I laughed, reaching over to brush Rumi's curls with my fingertips. "I think you're delirious."

She looked at me again, a different kind of look this time. Softer. Intentional.

"We should put them down." she said quietly.

I helped her up carefully, and we crept down the hall.

Sir whimpered once but didn't wake. Rumi shifted in her swaddle and let out a sigh before sinking deeper into sleep. Success.

Beyoncé was already back in bed, hair pulled into a messy bun. She looked like a dream. My wife. The mother of my children. And right now? The woman I had been dying to touch again.

She looked up from her pillow with that smirk. The one that told me she knew exactly what I was thinking.

"It's been six weeks." she said, barely above a whisper.

I blinked. "Six weeks?"

She tilted her head. "Since the C-section."

Oh.

My brain short-circuited a little. Suddenly, I was very awake.

I sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a playful look. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm saying... the doctor said six weeks."

Six weeks.

Six long weeks of stolen glances, heated kisses that always ended too soon, and her whispering things she wanted me to do once the doctor said it was okay. I damn near counted down the days.

"I been counting down the days"

"I've been feenin'." she whispered, biting her bottom lip.

My whole body tensed. "Say less."

I didn't even make it to the bed before I started pulling off my hoodie. Beyoncé sat up, her robe parting just enough for me to catch that glimmer of skin, the curve of her waist, the way her body had changed and somehow made her even more perfect. She reached for me, tugging me down to her by my waistband.

"I missed this." she said against my lips, already breathless.

I kissed her hard. Six weeks of restrained touch and aching want... all poured into that one kiss.

"You sure you ready for me?" I murmured, hand tracing the line of her thigh.

She looked me dead in the eye. "I've been ready."

Her lips found mine, slow and deep... like she had all the time in the world. I kissed her back, pouring everything I'd held in over those long nights: the gratitude, the love, the want. My hand moved to her waist, fingertips brushing over the curve of her hip.