Page 15 of Forever Zara

Didn’t matter how many times he had her. He could ride her missionary for the rest of his life, and it would be the best sex he’d ever had.

Some women were born unique.

His Zara was born not of this world, and he was the lucky bastard who got to love her.

“Love you, Icy.” He said into her lips, feeling them stretch apart with a smile. She wound around him like a sloth. He’d clean her up in a second and tuck her into him again so she could drop into sleep.

“Sixteen days, hubby-to-be.”

It couldn’t come soon enough for him.

SIX

“Mini Prez on board.” – Rider

Wedding: T-minus 15 days.

It was the wheezing noises which brought Rider out of sleep.

He always slept up against Zara’s back with his face in her hair.

Sometimes he held his tinier woman tighter than intended to, and she’d elbow him in the ribs and accuse him of being a boa constrictor. That wasn’t the case this morning.

The cough-wheezing was coming from Zara, and then she woke herself by sneezing.

“Dammit,” she groaned.

“You okay, Icy?”

“Ugh. I feel like death.”

Frowning, Rider moved his hand to her forehead, and sure enough, she was burning up. Cupping her cheek, he waited for her to turn around. She appeared flushed, her eyes a little opaque as she burrowed into his chest. “I think you sexed a cold into me, honey.” She joked. He chuckled, kissing her warm face.

“I have many talents, but I don’t carry the flu in my dick. Were you feeling sick last night?”

“No, just tired, but that’s wedding prep for you. Something always needs checking and double-checking.”

“You’re supposed to be letting your mom see to it.”

She snorted and then started coughing. “It would be bigger than it is if I didn’t keep her in check. I already had to nix fifty people from coming from Dad’s firm.”

From listening to conversations, Rider had an inkling of how big his wedding was becoming. Long as Zara turned up, he wasn’t bothered about the details. Though paying for a bunch of Boston attorneys to eat his steak wasn’t something he’d have chosen.

“Don’t worry, biker-man.” She patted his bare chest, “there won’t be lawyers at our wedding. I wanted an intimate ceremony, and she’s making it into a clown circus.”

“You want me to talk to her?”

“I can handle it.”

Another round of coughing, Rider slid out of bed. Zara moved to do the same, and he stopped her. “You stay there.”

“I need to pee, Rider!”

He chuckled and let her go to the bathroom but ushered her right back into their bed.

“You realize those three kids you put in me will be awake soon and demanding food?” She argued, sitting her blonde-self up against the headboard.

A brow arched. “I’m capable of slopping food into a bowl. You get some more rest, and I’ll bring up some meds for you to take.”

---