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I throw my arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “This is going to be so cool. I’ll talk to you in Vulcan the whole time.”
He laughs and kisses my forehead. “Promise me you’ll say dirty things.”
“The dirtiest,” I agree.
He leans forward to kiss me again, a sweet lingering kiss that makes my blood boil and my body tremble.
Before I know it, I’m sitting on the island in the kitchen and his hands are under my t-shirt. He plays with my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. He presses kisses to my neck and shoulders, anywhere he can reach my exposed skin.
Then he’s yanking up my t-shirt from around my hips and pulling at my underwear, working deftly to free me from the only barriers between us.
As soon as the cool air hits my pussy, I slip my hand between my thighs to touch myself. I spread my moisture around and close my eyes. Ryan loves to watch me do this, to see me pleasuring myself.
“You’re mine always,” he growls just as he thrusts into my aching channel. “You belong to me now, Lacey.”
The words are what I need to hear, and I gasp as my body begins clenching around his, milking him.
When we’re both spent, he lets out a soft sigh. “Happy Anniversary, kitten.” He lingers inside of me for a long minute before he slowly pulls out.
Something flickers across his face at the same time that I realize we forgot the condom.
“It’s OK,” I reassure both of us. “It’s not the right time of the month.” My period can be a little bit erratic, but I can usually guess where I am.
He still looks troubled. “Do we want kids together?”
I adjust my t-shirt so it’s covering me again. “I mean, at some point. We do want kids…don’t we?”
He nods. “When you’re ready, I want a whole fleet.”
“You’re not going to dress them in red shirts,” I tease. Since getting together with Ryan, I’ve learned his science fiction obsession goes even deeper than I realized.
“It’s the perfect Christmas card idea,” he insists.
I roll my eyes. “We’ll talk about it later. Get dressed. We’re taking a road trip. It’s part of my anniversary surprise for you.”
* * *
Since his insomnia is still bad, Ryan drifted to sleep once I had been driving for a few minutes. I was relieved that he didn’t see where we’re going.
But when I turn on the neighborhood street, he suddenly stirs. “Are we there yet?”
He glances outside the window and recognizes where we are. “Damn, baby. Why are you doing this to me?”
“They want to see you.” I know this won’t be easy for him. But I have Ryan’s back. I’ll always be the one looking out for him.
He shakes his head. “You don’t understand—the things I said and I did. I’m not proud of that man. I made my father cry. This tough combat veteran who’d been through hell broke down in tears because of me.” Equal parts shame and disgust tinge his voice.
“They want to see you,” I repeat.
“How could they?”
“They love you. They’ve been waiting for you,” I say as I pull the car to a stop in the driveway of the modest two-story brick home. An American flag waves in the breeze and there are two matching rocking chairs on the front porch. It’s the kind of place I’d like to share with Ryan someday.
We both stare at the home in silence. He’s lost in memories of the past and I’m thinking about future memories we’ll make.
Then the front door swings open and Ryan’s parents are rushing forward. I squeeze his hand and mouth, “I love you.”
We leave the car and the two of them instantly envelop Ryan in a tight hug.
