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“You’re looking way too smug. You weren’t lying about turning obnoxious,” I tell him.
His body shakes with amusement. He lowers his head to tease my nipples with his lips and tongue. It feels like he might still be laughing a little as he kisses all the way down until he’s nuzzling my pussy, and I’m sure he’s still smiling as he hooks my legs over his shoulders and makes me come with his fingers and mouth.
I’m still panting and pulsing from that orgasm as he adjusts his position so he’s sitting on his knees. He lifts my hips and fits himself inside me, and I clutch at the headboard with one hand as he starts fucking me, my body helpless and completely exposed to his view. I rub my clit with my other hand until I’ve come again.
Then he turns me over onto my hands and knees and takes me from behind. That position always works for me, so I have to smother my loud cries into a pillow. Finally he turns me back over and helps me wrap my legs high around his back.
I’m drenched in sweat and red all the way down to my chest and panting like I’ve run a marathon, but I smile up into the deep, intense tenderness on his face. “Kind of ambitious tonight, aren’t you?”
“Not ambitious,” he murmurs thickly. He’s clearly just as worn out as I am and almost on the verge of letting go. His cock is buried inside me, but he isn’t moving yet. “In love. So in love with you. And I want you to know how much.”
“I do. I do now. I love you too.”
“Say it again.” The words are half-plea and half-demand as he begins to rock his hips.
“I love you.” I gasp and arch at how deep he’s moving inside me now. “I love you too.”
“Keep saying it.” He’s ducked his head now. He’s fucking me hard, his face twisted with effort. He’s on the edge of losing it completely. “Never stop.”
“I love you.” I don’t think I can come again, but everything feels so good I can’t help but claw lines down his back with my fingernails.
He makes a guttural sound, now beyond words.
I keep repeating that I love him until he lets out an uninhibited bellow and yanks out of me just in time. His body jerks through his climax as he comes on my hip and thigh.
He collapses beside me afterward, smiling as he looks over at me.
I smile back.
And we keep smiling as we catch our breath until I finally manage to roll out of bed so I can pee and clean up.
When I come back into the bedroom afterward, Grant is already asleep.
* * *
A month later, I’m swimming, my strokes slicing through cold freshwater. I can feel the sun on my back, and I can see through my goggles and the clear water to the bottom of the lake.
It’s a perfect lake for swimming. Deep enough but not creepily so—with no dark recesses that could hide lurking monsters. It’s fed by a large mountain stream, so the water doesn’t get stagnant. I’m used to swimming in neatly defined lanes and being surrounded by the smell and feel of chlorine, so swimming here will take some getting used to.
But it’s amazing. I still can’t believe Grant managed to find it.
I swam for an hour in our bunker pool this morning, so I don’t need to do a full workout right now. I swim back and forth a couple of times for fun, and then I heft myself back up onto the dock that Grant built last week out of reclaimed lumber, extending it far enough out onto the water so it would be safe for me to dive off.
The cabin is still a mess and will probably remain so for quite a while. We’ve started constructing some houses around the camp for those in our community who are getting tired of living underground. Grant and I agreed that, except for the dock he built, we’d leave the cabin as is for now so we could help with the community construction projects.
I don’t mind. I’m still happy in the bunker, and I plan to use the pool for as long as I can. The cabin is our home for the future, but it doesn’t have to be for right now.
I shake off some of the water and wring out my long, wet braid, grinning down at Mack. He was lounging on the dock when I dove in, and he hasn’t appeared to move.
But he now has an infant in his arms, and he’s cooing down at her.
“So you got called on for babysitting duty?” I ask, grabbing a towel to dry off more completely before I sit down beside him.
“Yep. Layne and Travis are taking a walk. That’s what they said.” Mack gives the baby his finger to grab onto. “But I suspect they mostly want to be alone for a while.”
Layne gave birth almost two weeks ago—a healthy baby girl they named Abigail. They decided to stay with us for a couple of months. Partly because of our medical resources. But also because there is such a large supply of enthusiastic babysitters around.
None of us have seen an infant in five years.
