Page 79 of Alien's Love Child

"That was..." she whispers, her voice trailing off.

I smile, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Amazing? Incredible? The best you've ever had?"

She laughs, a soft, breathless sound that sends a shiver down my spine. "All of the above." She pauses, her fingers tracing patterns on my back. "I love you, Davin. I never stopped."

Her words send a jolt of warmth through me. I pull back, just enough to look her in the eye. "I love you too, Jesse. More than anything." I press a soft kiss to her lips, a promise of more to come.

CHAPTER 29

DAVIN

The hum of the ship's engines shifts pitch, signaling our approach to the station. I stretch, careful not to disturb Jesse who's still fast asleep beside me. Her red hair fans across the pillow, a few strands catching on her lips with each soft breath.

The sheet slides down as I sit up, exposing the bandage on my chest. The wound throbs, but it's healing well enough. A small price to pay for our freedom.

Through the viewport, stars streak past in brilliant lines of light. We're almost home. Almost back to Leo. My chest tightens at the thought of my son - our son. Three years of memories I'll never get back, but we have time now. Time to make new ones.

Jesse mumbles something in her sleep, her hand reaching out to where I was lying. I brush my fingers across her freckled shoulder, tracing constellations I've memorized over the past few months. She settles, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The nav computer beeps, showing our estimated arrival time: forty-three minutes. Just enough time to let her rest a bit longer. She deserves it after everything - after keeping Leo safe all those years, after helping me remember who I really am.

I lean back against the headboard, watching the rise and fall of her chest. The sheet barely covers her curves, and my mind drifts to last night's activities. A pleasant ache settles in my muscles, reminding me that some things are worth the pain.

The ship's autopilot can handle the approach. For now, I'm content to stay here, guarding Jesse's sleep, counting down the minutes until I can hold our son again. Until we can truly start our life together, free from the shadows of our past.

Jesse's eyes flutter open, and she stretches like a cat beside me. Her hand finds mine under the sheets. "How much longer?"

"About forty minutes."

"Forty min-" She bolts upright, the sheet falling away. "Why didn't you wake me? I look like-" She runs her fingers through her tangled red hair, grimacing at what she finds there.

"You look beautiful." I catch her wrist as she tries to scramble out of bed. "And there's no rush. Leo's with friends, remember?"

"But-"

"He's fine." I pull her back down beside me, and she lands with a soft oof against my chest. The impact makes my wound twinge, but I don't let it show.

"Besides," I trail my fingers down her bare arm, "when was the last time we had a quiet morning?"

"This morning wasn't exactly quiet." Her green eyes sparkle with mischief as she props herself up on an elbow.

"True." I lean in to kiss her, but she dodges away.

"Nope. Not with this morning breath. And I really do need to shower." She slides out of bed, gathering her scattered clothes. "But you're right. There's no rush."

I watch her pad toward the bathroom, admiring the view. "Want company?"

"Didn't you just say there's no rush?"

"Exactly. We have time."

The landing padhisses as we touch down, hydraulics releasing pressure in a cloud of steam. Jesse's already packed our few belongings into a single bag - old habits die hard. We make our way through the station's winding corridors to the public transport hub, my hand resting on the small of her back.

The transport car we board is nearly empty, just an elderly couple in the front and a teenager absorbed in their holoscreen. The windows stretch from floor to ceiling, offering a panoramic view of the mountainside as we climb higher into the foothills.

Jesse settles into the seat beside me, her warmth pressing against my side. The transport jolts slightly as it navigates a curve, and she shifts closer, resting her head on my shoulder. Her hair tickles my neck, carrying the faint scent of the ship's generic shampoo.

"Do you think we'll actually get to live peacefully now?" Her voice is soft, meant only for me. "No more running, no more looking over our shoulders?"

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