𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙴𝚁

The hum of the engines filled the cabin as Xavier Walker leaned back in his seat, staring out the window at the endless sky. His fingers tapped absently against the armrest, impatience creeping in. His seatmate, Captain Ryan Carter, chuckled beside him.

“You look like you're about to jump out of this plane.”

Xavier smirked but didn't take his eyes off the horizon.

“I haven't seen my wife in weeks. She's eight months pregnant—I need to be home.”

Ryan shook his head. “Man, you're in deep.” Xavier grinned. “Deeper than the ocean, buddy. And I wouldn't have it any other way.”

𝙰𝚃 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴....

Just as you were about to stir the pot, the sound of the door unlocking echoed through the quiet space, sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned sharply, your breath hitching as you saw him standing there. Xavier Walker. His black pilot uniform making him really handsome. He looked exhausted, yet his gaze burned with something deeper—something hungry.Then, as if breaking from a trance, he dropped his duffel bag to the floor and strode forward.

Without hesitation, you rushed to him, wrapping your arms around his firm frame. The scent of his cologne, mixed with the faint aroma of jet fuel. “Oh… you’re home.” Your voice was soft, trembling slightly from emotion. He held you tighter, arms securing you against him, his hand instinctively resting over your belly. His touch was gentle, yet possessive.

When you finally pulled away, breathless, you met his gaze with a soft smile, brushing your fingers against his jaw. “What do you want for dinner?” His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his fingers pressing into your lower back, and his voice dropped into a deep, husky whisper.

“You.”