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"You're so tight, Sweetie," Sampson says, his hands on my hips as I rock on top of him. His cock is buried so deeply inside of me, I hate knowing that for the next six months he will be at sea.
I'm going to miss him so much.
"God," he groans, pulling me to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around me. "I'm gonna miss you, baby."
"I know," I whisper, as his cock fills me up and pulses inside me. "But we're going to be strong. For one another, for Cordy."
He comes hard as if his body has been building up for this final time, and I can't help but cry out as he fills me up with his hot, thick seed.
"Ohh, yeah," I say, grinding my pussy against him as we both finish.
I fall down on him, and I run my hands over his tattoo on his side. It's a large anchor with a ribbon wrapped around with the words ‘love is our anchor’ inked on his skin. Porter did the piece before we moved to San Diego, where we live now.
Cordy starts crying from her crib and I feel my breasts ache for her. I pull on a bathrobe and slip into the nursery. I pull her to my chest and carry her back to the bedroom, wanting this final morning as a family to last as long as possible. I lie down in the bed, with her resting between me and her father.
She latches on quickly and Samp cradles both his girls in his arms. "You gonna be okay?" he asks me.
"Yeah, you know the Navy wives… there are a thousand events planned while our men are away. And I'm hosting weekly Bachelor viewing parties, so that's something."
"And you have your walking group, right?"
I nod. It's a group of six new mothers, all of us with husbands in the Navy. We meet every morning for a three-mile walk. We push our strollers with two goals in mind: coffee and quiet babies.
"I'm gonna be okay, Sampson," I whisper,
Sampson was so scared about becoming a father, yet somehow, it's like he was made to be a dad and a husband. His heart is so big, his concern always for us. He has this never-ending desire to make sure we're safe and feel protected.
He leans over, kissing Cordy's hair. "God, she's gonna be so big when I get back."
"I'll send videos and pictures. It's gonna be okay."
Tears fill both of our eyes, and we don't look away.
"I love you so damn much," he says, and my love wraps around him, my soul entwines with his.
Sampson is going to sea, but he is anchored to my heart. Now, and for always.His Make-Believe BrideChapter OneI make no apologies for the kind of man I am.
And why the hell should I?
I was born and raised in God’s country. Not everyone understands what it means to be an Alaskan mountain man, but I sure as fuck would expect any woman who married me to get the concept.
Of course, when Sheila fooled me into thinking she was my kind of woman, I figured she understood that I lived and breathed the wild mountain air, the ice-cold ocean, the skies so blue you could get swallowed up in them.
But all she was after was a ring on her finger. After a weekend of knowing one another I ended up in Vegas, so fucking far from home I feared I would never get back where I belonged.
I learned from that mistake. A mistake like that? I sure as hell will never make it again.
Out in my fishing boat this summer morning, trolling for King salmon in the open waters, I push away the uncomfortable memories of the past and try to clear my head––focus on the good things in my life. Like my family who has my back, this town that feels like home, and my mutt Chum who’s barking up a shit storm below deck.
“I hear ya, buddy,” I say, setting down my thermos of coffee and opening the below deck cabin door. “You sure you wanna come up? The water is choppy this morning.” I grab a doggy biscuit laced with an herbal motion sickness remedy. A lady in town bakes them for Chum, and they seem to help somewhat.
Tossing it to him, he follows me up, wagging his tail, ready for the day.
I leave him below deck as much as possible because watching him get nauseous is painful. Chum’s the only dog I’ve ever known who gets seasick, and he doesn’t seem to have his sea-legs yet. Through four years out here with me, I’d thought he’d have grown them by now.
Still, he insists on staying by my side. This dog has been with me through thick and thin. The fact that one encounter with Sheila caused him to go into beast mode on her should have been red flag enough. He tossed her boots overboard, ripped her purses to shreds, and insisted on sleeping between her and me on the bed. Chum may not be able to hold his own on the open water, but he’s good at looking out for me.
