Slash clasped my hand and tugged me onto his lap. I guided him back inside me, sparks shooting between my legs. I rode him, slowly at first, but as my skin heated and flushed with fervor, our coupling became frenetic.
I clenched around him, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as my second orgasm was ripped from me. Slash clutched my behind and speared up into me before stilling.
Breathless, I pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck. His skin was damp and blazing to the touch.
I gently lifted myself off him and I immediately felt him streaming down my leg. I looked around for something to wipe myself. Slash reached for his discarded T-shirt and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I said, long past the point of blushing at carnal things. I tossed the soiled T-shirt into the laundry bin. He came to me and scooped me into his arms and carted me to the bathroom. He set me onto the toilet and then he turned on the shower. He stuck his hand under the faucet and then fiddled with the knobs. He turned and took my hand, urging me to rise.
He unhooked my bra with a flick of his fingers. I slithered out of my underwear and kicked off my heels.
We were quiet, and I enjoyed the easy intimacy of the moment. Every now and again, I’d press my lips to his shoulder blade, wanting him to know how much I loved him just from my simple touch.
After we’d dried off, and I’d slid into pajamas, Slash said, “I could see you with a little girl. Pink tutus and tiaras…”
I looked at him. He had the most reverent look on his face, like he really could picture our child. I wondered what our baby would look like, but we still didn’t know if we were going to have a boy or a girl. If we had a girl, would she have Slash’s dark hair? My brown eyes? My freckly pale skin, or Slash’s natural ability to tan?
“I’d be happy with either,” I said. “I really would. But I love the idea of a little girl.”
“Yeah?”
I nodded. “I have this idea…”
“Go on.”
“We’re in the kitchen, and she’s standing on a step stool so she can reach the mixing bowl, and she’s licking a beater from the mixer.”
“Sweet,” Slash rasped, his tone gruff. “I can see it. Coming into the kitchen and seeing the two of you.”
“You can?” I whispered.
“Yeah.”
We fixed the covers of the bed and then climbed into it. Slash took me into his arms, and I rested my head on his chest.
“But I can’t see it here. In this house,” he went on.
“You’re not about to broach the subject that I think you’re gonna broach…”
“What subject is that?” he asked.
“Buying a house.”
“What’s wrong with talking about it?”
“Wejustmoved in together. Like, five seconds ago. You’ve been here only a handful of days. We’ve fought, made up and haven’t even gotten our real living room furniture yet.”
“Don’t you want to be settled in a house before the baby comes?” he asked.
“Well, obviously.”
“Okay. That shit takes time. Not to mention the nursery. Look. You love me, I love you. We’re having a baby. Your business is only going to grow, and you’re going to have your hands full getting all that sorted before the baby comes anyway. Right?”
“Right,” I admitted. “First comes baby, then comes car, then comes house. Jesus, we’ve done it all backwards. All that’s left is marriage.”
When he didn’t reply, I lifted myself off his chest to stare into his eyes.
“Is that what you want? To get married?” he asked.