“What do you want to do now?” Mason asked when we were flat on the ground without the cooling effects of the water.
“We could eat. Why, were you thinking of something else?”
“Excuse me, Mr. and Mrs. Sharp. You have a package in your room.” One of the hotel attendants stood near the sliding glass door between our room and our private beach.
“Thank you,” Mason answered, and the man quickly left. “I'm not expecting anything. So what's that about?”
I smiled at his suspicious nature, “I know what it is. I’m expecting something from Emma.”
“And you couldn’t wait until we were home!?” he sat up and turned to me with a raised eyebrow.
I sat up too, “Once you see it, I don't think you'll complain about my impatience.”
“But I wanted to fuck you in the surf,” he grumbled.
“Come on, you big baby.” I stood up and grabbed his hand, forcing him to follow me.
The room was chilly compared to the heat outside, and I immediately grabbed a beach blanket to wrap around myself. A simple brown paper-wrapped package sat on the table.
“Well, aren't you going to open it?” he waved his hand toward it.
“No. That’s your job.”
His green eyes found mine, and my heart picked up its pace, “It’s for me!?”
“It is.”
He walked over to the table and picked it up. His usual suspicious look mixed into something breathtaking when he smiled, “What did you get me?”
“Open it,”
He did. His long skillful fingers deftly peeled the paper back, revealing a plain box. “Well, that was anticlimactic,” we both laughed as he found a knife and cut the tape. He peeled back the box flaps, then the bubble wrap, until there was just a book wrapped in more brown paper, “This is a librarian's idea of a joke, surely,” he teased.
“Don’t be mean.”
He ripped the paper away, and every hint of joking dropped off his face. Instead, he was utterly silent as he stared at the book in his hands.
“Claire, how?”
“Never underestimate a librarian's ability to find a book.”
He opened the pages staring at the bird book with intense emotion in his eyes, “This is the same book my mom used to read to me, Claire.”
“I know.”
He shut his eyes briefly, and I was stunned to see a tear slip free. He placed the book on the table and turned to me, scooping me into his arms, “Thank you, Claire. Thank you so fucking much.”
He carried me to the bed, kissing me deeply and ripping off my bikini as he went.
“What are you thinking?” I demanded, still wanting to know what he thought and felt about the book.
“I’m going to fill you with cum until you’re pregnant with my baby.”
I scoffed, nearly spluttering in my disbelief. “I’m on the shot.”
“I know, but there’s no reason why we can’t practice for when it wears off next month,” he dropped me on the bed and followed quickly after.
“You're ridiculous,” I told him, already spreading my legs to let him fill me as many times as he wanted. Then, finally, when he positioned himself at my entrance, I felt the need to tell him, “I'm not ready for kids yet.”