Page 87 of Salty Pickle

Then something in her catches, and she moves faster. I hold her on each side of her ribs, helping take the weight off her arms.

“Oh, God, oh yes,” she says, and I steel myself against the rising tide of pleasure to make sure she gets everything she wants out of this ride and more.

Her body heaves as she moves up and down, then side to side.

“Court!” Her voice is raspy as she lets herself go, tightening around me.

I’m with her now, lifting to meet her movements. Her body clamps down, over and over again, and that’s it. I’m losing it, pulsing into her as my vision goes starry, and the figure of her is bathed in an ethereal glow.

She holds still, letting me fill her. Then her arms collapse, and she’s on me, more or less, her belly keeping her farther than I think she’d like.

Even so, her forehead rests on my chest just under my chin. We breathe together, our inhalations the only sound in the room.

I run my hands up her back and gather her hair.

Then I feel the oddest thing against my stomach.

A twitch.

A thump.

Is that…

Lucy looks up. “We woke him up.”

“Is he kicking?”

She laughs. “He is. Right in the gut.”

I hold still, waiting for it to happen again.

Then it does.

Thump.

He’s real. He’s an actual little person with a leg and a foot.

And apparently, opinions about our activity and position.

“Yeah, I have to move,” Lucy says, carefully sliding off my body to the bed and rolling to her side.

We face each other. I rest my palm on her belly. Would he stop kicking now that she’s changed positions?

But no, there it is again. Thump.

“Does it hurt when he does that?”

“No. It’s weird, like I have an alien in there.”

“I bet.”

“It’s wildest when I’m lying perfectly still, and yet, my body moves.”

“Can he hear you talking?”

“Oh, absolutely. I wake him up all the time if I call to Matilda. I’m sure it sounds muffled, like when you go underwater. But it’s been proven they can hear. They recognize their mother’s voice when they’re born.”

“What about outside voices?”

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