I nod. “That’s true.”
“But, whatever happens, whoever we bring into our lives, I’m always going to love you,” he says softly.
He presses his lips to mine for a quick kiss.
“I do like the name Laura,” he says. “Laura Park-Kinney.”
“What makes you so sure we’d have a girl?” I tease.
“I don’t know.”
“We should probably pick out a boy’s name just in case.”
“Hmm…. How about Paul? John? George?”
“Ringo?” I ask, giggling. “Now you’re just naming Beatles.”
He kisses me again and I feel better. I sink into him, grinding against his hardening cock, wishing he’d taken his pants off before getting on the bed.
“We’ll think of something,” he murmurs.
He rolls me to my back and trails kisses down my neck.
“Shawn,” I whisper.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
I pull his face back to mine and kiss him.
“Please. I need you like this,” I husk out.
He nods, understanding and makes quick work of losing his pants and boxers. He slides my panties down my legs and throws them to the floor. He slips a finger inside me, then another, and scissors them back and forth.
“How’s that feel?” he asks.
I make a little throaty noise. “It’s good,” I seethe. “But I need more. I need all of you, Shawn. Please.”
He hovers his face over mine.
“Anything, Aya,” he assures me. “Anything you want.”
He presses his body against mine and kisses me slowly, but thoroughly, his tongue massaging mine and exploring my mouth. He pulls back and I gasp for air.
“Please. I need you, Shawn,” I repeat.
He lines himself up with my entrance and pushes in, inch by inch. I feel myself stretch around him.
“Ugh,” I grunt out. “More.”
“Greedy, aren’t you,” he teases, finally fully inside me. “I guess now that we’re married I’ll have to go above and beyond to impress you.”
I tighten my legs around him and try to pull him down to kiss me, but he’s not done taunting me yet. I groan.
“I’ll have to up my game so you don’t get bored with me,” he chuckles.
“Come on,” I whine. “You know I need you and you just want to fuck with me.”
Shawn snaps his hips and hits just the right spot inside me to send my eyes rolling back.
“Shawn,” I grunt.
“More?”
“Yes. More.”
Shawn takes both of my hands in one of his and pins my wrists over my head. His eyes bore into mine, and he smirks, knowing I’m totally at his mercy. I wriggle underneath him, totally submissive, but loving every second of it.
He thrusts into me, and I try to move underneath him, but it’s hard. He’s a lot bigger than I am. He picks up speed.
“Look at you…” he voice trails off.
He’s probably thinking of something teasing to say, but lost track of his words. His eyes glaze over and his control starts to slip. I clench around his cock.
“Christ, Aya,” he hisses. “Don’t. I’m too close.”
“Ugh, I’m close too. Come for me, Shawn.”
I wrap my legs around him and tighten again. Shawn loses the battle and comes, pulsing inside me. It sends me right over the edge too, and I feel myself succumb to my orgasm, crying out his name.
When I come to, I feel Shawn pressing wet, messy kisses to my cheek. Then my neck. Then the little notch at the base of my throat. I let out a low moan when he hits that spot and he laughs.
I cup his face in my hands and bring his lips to mine for a sleepy, stupidly happy kiss. He pulls out of me and flops over onto his back.
“What do you think?” he asks. “Good enough to for a baby?”
“Maybe. Or maybe we’d better keep practicing.”
“I like all the practicing,” he whispers, pulling into position to spoon. “We’ll get it right eventually.”
I snuggle up against him, silently agreeing.
As I fall asleep in Shawn’s arms, I hear him murmur, “I love you,” against the back of my neck.
“Love you, too.”
Epilogue
Shawn
“Are we there yet?” Aya asks.
“About half an hour.”
“I’m just saying that she’s been quiet the whole time and odds are that we’re in for screaming and crying and diaper explosion really soon. And I’d rather get it over with before we see your mom,” she reasons.
I nod.
I look back at baby Laura in the mirror, sleeping away quietly.
“I think we should just be grateful for right now,” I whisper. “Instead of worrying about what could happen in an hour.”
Aya rolls her eyes, hearing me repeat the words she’s been saying this entire car ride. “Point taken.”
Yet another car passes us.
“You know, you can drive at a normal speed, Shawn,” she taunts.
“I know,” I reply. But ever since baby Laura came along, I’ve been driving more cautiously. I’ve been doing a lot of things more carefully. I’m even taking multivitamins in some half-assed attempt at being around longer for her.
It doesn’t help that I’m going to see my mom in person for the first time since that afternoon. She says that she’s still sober, but she’s still not comfortable coming down to Los Angeles to visit. So Aya, Laura, and I are taking the three hour car ride up to see her.
My mother has been more of a presence in my life. She calls more and I actually answer. And she sends emails from time to time.
I know that it’ll be years until she and I have a real relationship. Like, one where I can call and ask her to watch Laura. Or one where I can invite her for Christmas. But, for now, I guess it’s enough.
When we arrive at Donna’s mobile home, she hugs me and Aya, but her attention is immediately right on baby Laura.
“Oh my God,” Donna coos. “You’re about the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Laura scrunches up her face, a big wail-fest coming on.
“Sorry,” Aya says. “She probably needs a new diaper.”
“I’ll do it,” Donna says.
“Really?” I ask.
“Shawn, I may not remember a lot of things, but I remember how to change a diaper,” Donna says, gathering the baby bag and heading into the bedroom. “Make yourselves at home. I just put on some tea.”
My gut says to follow her and make sure she doesn’t drop Laura or something terrible like that. But I don’t.
Aya takes my hand and leads me into the kitchen. There’s a tea kettle on and three mugs set out. My mother’s million different boxes of tea are lined up on the shelf.
“She’ll be fine,” she says.
“I know.”
After visiting with my mom for a few hours, we head back to the lodge. The same one that we had our little wedding at. We’ve begun referring to the church wedding as the ‘big wedding’ and the one on the lake as the ‘little wedding.’ Or the ‘real’ wedding.