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“It has to have running water.” She paused. “And a toilet.”
“There was running water.”
She glowered at me. “I don’t mean a stream.”
“There was also a toilet with the yurt.”
“Five minutes away. I want one ten steps from the bed.”
“Any other demands, brat?” I had to smile. “How about two-thousand-thread count sheets?”
“Sure. Why not four-thousand?”
“Do they exist?”
“I’m certain you’ll find them for me if they do.”
“Anything else?”
“If I think of anything, I’ll tell you,” she mumbled, wafting a regal hand.
Swatting her asscheek, I told her, “What are you going to do when Bump’s no longer in there and I can chase you around the apartment again?”
“Orgasm without backache?” she jibed, making me laugh.
“You’re going to get used to my being amenable,” I groused.
“Ha! Amenable? You’re about as amenable as trying to get honey out of a jar.”
Though my brow furrowed at her description, I decided, “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You shouldn’t.”
“Honey tastes good,” I pointed out.
“Honey is a pain in the ass to get off a spoon.”
I reached for the oil on the nightstand and, without warming it, spurted the bottle onto the curve of her lower back.
When she yelped, I told her, “I’m maple syrup.”
She scoffed. “Honey beats maple syrup.”
“I don’t agree,” I countered as I started to smooth my hands up and down the length of her spine.
Shivering a little, Nessa wriggled again, clearly getting into the rub down, and I started to massage the soreness out of her lower back.
I knew it’d be a boy. All the kids my brothers had spawned thus far were boys, and it was the father’s genes that triggered the sex, but I was okay with having a son.
As long as that son had blond hair and green eyes.
As long as that son didn’t become like me—a murderer.
Ignoring my hard-on, I went to work on her back and thighs, sloping down her long, lean legs to reach her feet.
When I dug into her instep, I didn’t have to look at her pussy to know she was creaming.
The deep, guttural groan she released hit my dick, and I gritted my teeth to hold off because the last thing she needed was me shortselling her a well-deserved massage.
