Page 315 of Mangled Memory
Ayla
Three weeks later
“July may be the perfect time to be in Greece. Or maybe every day is the perfect time to be in Greece.”
“You’ve said that before, only it was September that time.” Christian extends an iced coffee to me where I stand in the incredible clear water of the villa’s pool. I’m naked as the day I was born and leaning against the pool wall watching the sun set. The huge fiery ball isn’t playing hide-and-seek with mountains, but flirting with the horizon as if she might give him just one little peek before sliding away in a coy game of chase.
While I love my camera and I’ve taken hundreds of shots since we’ve been in Greece, I’m loving being in the moment right here, right now, present with my husband, and not having a lens to filter the encounter through.
Besides, beach sunsets aren’t my thing. Mountain ones most certainly are.
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me we honeymooned here until we arrived.”
“Why? There was no need to stress you with it. It might’ve triggered a memory or it might not have, but there was no reason to not relive it again for the first time.”
“The dark corners still persist. Honey, what if my memory never comes back?” I’ve asked myself this question more times than I can count.
“Then we’ll build new memories and have a life so full that that missing window of time pales in comparison.”
This man is too good to be true.
“Now, wife, I’d like to revisit the conversation about our sons.”
“Sons only? No daughters?”
“Well, I’ve been thinking how we could have kids and treat them equally and fairly. I cannot handle a daughter who looks like you and might want to have sex before she’s fifty.”
“And our sons?”
“Well, that’s the beauty of my plan. We’re only going to have boys.” His grin is boyish as he plants his hands on my waist.
“Oh? How do you figure?”
“Well, the father determines the sex.”
“That’s biologically accurate,” I concede.
“So, I’ll only allow boys. Period. End of discussion.”
“Well, you seem to have thought this through with scientific certainty. Good. Good. I’d hate for us to be rash.”
“Exactly.”
“And how to you plan to accomplish this feat?”
“There’s a Chinese fertility calendar. I downloaded it to my phone. It’s nearly foolproof.”
“So if I were to try to seduce my husband—” I rub my hand down his abs to grip his thick hot cock. “You’d need to check your phone to make sure it’s not the wrong day to satisfy me?” I’m baiting him. It’s the most fun I’ve had in a while.
“Afraid so, wife. Can’t have beauties like you out in the world. You’re one in a trillion and all mine.” He thrusts his cock into my fist.
“So what does your calendar say about May eighteenth?”
“Let me—” He turns to the side before whipping back to face me. “What?”
“I’m waiting, Honey.”
The emotions that pass across his face. Panic, joy, wonder, confusion, elation. “Princess?”
