Page 86 of Say You'll Stay

He finds her in the barn one day tending to the chickens and leads her up into the loft and before she knows it, she’s riding him with hay poking at her feet.

It’s not sweet and slow this time, but she’s all for a little variety. She lifts up and down his shaft, chasing their goal with a swirl of her hips. The sound of skin slapping together in the slick of being joined is all she can hear over her own labored breathing, until he grabs her waist and meets her movements, thrusting up into her as she pushes down as the warmth of his release rushes in.

They often stay connected after sex, and this new mission has given them more reason to linger.

He is never selfish, and she leans backward, encouraging him to touch her. He strokes a lazy hand between her legs exactly where she needs it, his fingers splaying out around the base of his cock before cupping her, his thumb teasing where she’s swollen until she’s trembling in his arms.

She could definitely get used to this.

* **

One day in the heat of summer, they play a game where the only goal is to see how often he can fill her in one day. It’s a challenge with farm chores and a toddler to chase around, but somehow they make do.

She’s in the kitchen in nothing but one of his long t-shirts when he finds her that evening. She left her underwear off to tease him but also for easy access and when he comes up behind her at the island, gripping her ass with a firm hand before dragging his touch up to her lower back, applying pressure until she bends over the butcher block, her body flushes with arousal.

“Did you get those fence posts finished?” she asks, her tone purposely mundane.

“Mhmm. Got ‘em real deep in the ground,” he replies.

“How deep?” Neither of them are good at dirty talk and she lets out a half laugh at the absurdity of it.

“Think this is funny, huh?” There’s a grin in his voice, but the clink of his belt buckle silences her a moment later and then she is so full of him she can hardly breathe.

There is no room for talking after that. The countertop cools her cheek as she lays against it, her body jerking as he pumps in and out of her and a shiver ghosting up her spine when he bends to graze his teeth across her shoulder. When his release begins to leak out around the base, he pulls out and drops to his knees, pushing it back in with his tongue.

She shivers at how eager he is and then her hips are tugged further back and the tip of his tongue finds where her pulse already throbs. She comes so hard against his face that her legs buckle and he has to hold her up, chuckling when shefinally goes slack and slides down into his lap, joking about her suffocating him.

It’s a pattern they follow for at least three months before she begins to worry that getting pregnant might not be so easy.

It’s still early. Three months is nothing. They only need a little more time.

Three months turns into four, turns into six, and by then she has an awful feeling that something’s wrong.

“What if I can’t anymore?” she tells him one evening after Lucy is sound asleep and they’re tucked under the covers, facing each other.

“Could be me. My swimmers could be duds.”

“Or it’s the stress of this lifestyle. Not that we aren’t luckier than most, we are, but it’s still…you know, the apocalypse.”

They’ll never know for sure who or what the problem is. The only certainty is that she’s not any more pregnant now than she was six months ago despite their vigorous attempts, and that’s left her feeling frustrated.

“It’s still early,” she continues softly. “Some people try for a long time before it happens.”

“Then we’ll keep trying.”

Another few months later, they decide to stop trying and let nature take its course.

“If it’s meant to happen, it will,” she tells him, while they watch Lucy chase fireflies in the pasture. “And if it doesn’t, that’s okay, too. We’re good just the way we are. The three of us. I don’t want to focus on‘trying’anymore, okay?”

The brush of his kiss finds her temple with his agreement. “Okay. Just the three of us. I’m happy like that, always have been.”

“Me too.”

Later that night, when they make love, it’s slow and sweet and she doesn’t think about making a baby even once. She only thinks about him, how good he feels, and how much she loves him. She won’t have any regrets if this is the outcome.

* * *

Thirteen Years Later: Olivia

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