“Our luck has changed. It’ll work for us.”
“Sylvie, you just finished your period but pulling out does not work. Even a day after your period, let’s not take chances.”
I saw his mouth moving but I wasn’t sure he was speaking and this was because I was focused on all I was feeling.
God, God, even lazy stroking, not having his cock but having his face that close to me, his finger inside me was doing a number on me.
I needed him. So much, I couldn’t focus on this shit.
I needed to move us on, immediately.
In order to do that, I announced, “Okay, so it doesn’t work and you get me pregnant. It isn’t like we both don’t want kids. It happens, I won’t be sorry.”
His finger stilled.
No!
“Creed,” I whispered and it came out sounding like what it was. A plea.
I started to lift up but his voice, a rough, low, vibrating growl I’d never heard before stopped me.
“You wanna get pregnant now?”
His words, the tone they were uttered in, performed a miracle. It took me out of what was happening to my body and into the conversation and I realized what I said.
When I did, I realized I meant every word.
“Absolutely.”
Creed stared into my eyes.
I stared back.
Then his finger disappeared and I whimpered. The feeling of loss was cut short when he yanked my panties back up, shifted, rolled me and then lifted me in his arms. When we were up, he started moving, carrying me like a groom carries his bride over a threshold, his strides long and swift, his destination clearly the bedroom.
I slid my arms around his shoulders and asked, “Creed, where are you going?”
“I’m taking you to your bed. We make a baby, Sylvie, we do it making love. Not fucking on the kitchen floor.”
Of its own accord, my hand slid up his neck into his hair, cupping the back of his head spasmodically as goosebumps rose on my skin.
When we made a baby, we did it making love.
Making love.
Making a baby.
What I wanted. What he wanted. What we’d planned.
Sixteen years late.
But, thank God, not too late.
I felt my lip start to tremble and I bit it so the feeling welling up inside me didn’t overwhelm me. I didn’t want to cry. I wanted Creed to plant our baby in me while he made love to me.
How a Nerf fight ended up like this, I didn’t know.
Just that, as with everything, as always, while experiencing something wonderful, only Creed could make it more wonderful.
He set me in the bed and immediately covered me with his body.
Creed’s hands started moving on me, mine on him and his head was descending so he could kiss me when Gun pranced in, stopped and stood by the bed.
“Meow.”
Creed’s lips were brushing mine when I whispered, “She wants breakfast.”
“She can have breakfast after we try to make a baby,” he replied, not whispering.
I grinned.
I was down with that.
Creed did not grin.
He slanted his head and kissed me.
Then he made love to me.
“What?” Charlene hissed.
We were sitting on her couch in her living room. Creed was outside mowing her lawn.
After Creed made love to me, we took a long shower where Creed paid more attention to me, giving me a slow, sweet orgasm and taking his time doing it. We then got dressed and went over to Charlene’s to help her with breakfast and, after, Creed went out to mow her lawn.
So he could concentrate and not run over anything precious with the lawnmower, like, say, children, the kids were inside with us, doing something in their rooms which was likely destructive (except Theo, he was taking a nap). Charlene was ignoring this because I was laying it out, starting with imparting on her the fact that Creed and I had decided not to delay in trying to start a family.
It was Saturday. I’d been home nearly a week after making my decision to move to Phoenix and I hadn’t yet told her I was moving to another state. I hated to admit it but this was because I was chicken.
It seemed clear Drake Nair was out of town and we found no rumblings that he was still scheming against Knight. We also had no indication whatsoever that Nick had anything to do with Nair’s plot or even held any ill-will against his brother.
Therefore, Knight released Creed.
This meant Creed needed to go home, see to his own business. We discussed it and although he could give me a week, he had to get home and work. I had to stay in Denver, put my house on the market, finish the jobs I was still working on and shut down my business.
This was going to suck, being away from him for the first time since I got him back.
Creed thought it sucked, too and he was somewhat vocal about that.
Regardless that we both thought it sucked, there was no way around it. We’d have to be separated, for weeks, maybe even a couple of months with quick visits the only thing breaking our separation.