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If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to chase her off the precipice.
And then Georgina stiffens beneath me, her breath seizing against my neck, and Ifeelit. The pulsing of her muscles; the rush of slickness and her trembling thighs. I feel her come for me.
She’s magnificent.
Groaning low and rough, I grab her legs and fold them back, then plunge as deep as I can go and pant against her hair. I’m quivering, balanced on a knife edge.
“Not pulling out.” My eyes are screwed shut, my temples throbbing, my whole body screaming at me to let go. “Georgina, let me come inside you. Say it. Right now.”
She sighs, blissed out and sated, completely relaxed against my tense frame, and rolls her body against mine. “Do it. Do it, Levi.”
Thank. Fuck.
Squeezing a fistful of her hair, I let go with a muttered stream of curses, my shaft throbbing and pulsing inside my girl. And it wrings me out, I come so hard—feels like my whole damn body turns inside out. She’s suctioning out my soul.
When I collapse on top of her, shaken and spent, I barely remember to catch my weight on my elbows.
Two arms wind around my back. Smiling lips press against my neck, and I grin into her hair, shaking my head, because I can’t believe how good this is.
“Hope you like cold pizza,” I say at last, pulling out with a wince.
Georgina snorts, and I squeeze her leg before getting up.
This is it.
The perfect fresh start.
* * *
Two years later
The park is crowded, buzzing with laughter and the sizzle of food trucks, but we find a quiet patch of grass over by a copse of trees. Georgina leans against a trunk, braiding her hair and peering around us as I set up.
I spread out a picnic blanket, two foil-wrapped falafel wraps, and a large glass bottle of apple juice. The sun is bright and warm, and the breeze is fresh.
“How long do you have?” Georgina murmurs, nudging me with her toe. She’s barefoot already, her sandals kicked off in the grass, her sundress cleaving to her curves. It’s a day off from her own job—and when I found out two years ago that Georgina is a talented barista, I cursed loud enough that she burst out laughing.
She doesn’t need to work anymore. Not if she doesn’t want to. But she insists because, and I quote:If I have nothing to do all day, I’ll burst into your office at all hours for blow jobs.Apparently that would be a problem.
“An hour or so.” We’re busy back at Ignis, preparing for an industry conference, but I always have time for my wife. Besides, I left Nils in charge. He can handle it.
And… blanket: spread. Wife: stretched out. Dress: tossed somewhere over her shoulder. The perfect summer’s day.
I flick the cap open on a bottle of sunscreen, shifting close to lie beside her. She’s already tanned from this little tradition, her skin golden and smooth against her yellow bikini. Georgina watches me through heavy-lidded eyes, smiling lazily as I spread cream over her growing bump.
“Not long now,” she murmurs. “Only a few months.”
No. Not long at all. Georgina’s maternity leave starts soon, and then the countdownreallybegins. I squirt more sunscreen into my palm, then rub it down her nearest thigh.
“Boy or girl?” she asks, one arm tossed over her eyes. This is her new favorite game, but I don’t mind. I like playing too.
“A litter of kittens.”
She scoffs. “Shut up. Okay, what about names? I bet you want to call our baby Ignis Innovations 2.0. Bet you already filed a trademark.”
I grin, glancing up from my work. “You’ve got me.”
She’s so beautiful when she smiles. Georgina shifts around with a pleased sigh, and this moment is everything. Everything.
