Page 102 of Retribution

She unlocks her seat belt and turns to face me, her pouty lips taunting me from afar.

“Both,” she confirms, tucking one of her legs under the other.

“Mrs. Indie Breckenridge, I am utterly, passionately, disgustingly, obsessively, hopelessly in love with you. I love you, I love you, I love you!” I pour out, I can’t get enough of saying it, I can’t get enough of her.

She climbs over the middle console into my lap and grips both sides of my face, staring intently into my eyes.

“Say it again,” she whispers.

“I love you,” I breathe, my heart pulling and twisting at the stunning emerald eyes peering back at me.

She kisses me hard and passionately and I run my hand deeply through her hair as she rubs herself across the thin material of my shorts. I let out a groan, my cock hardening despite the triple shift it put in over the past day.

She pulls away. “Say it again,” she pants, her hands in my hair.

“I love yo–”

Her lips are back on mine, pulling and tugging at my hair playfully and I breathe harshly out of my nostrils, my heart racing with affection.

We both startle at the deep horn from a truck passing by, sucking us back into reality. We glance at each other and burst out laughing, my stomach aching from how hard I laugh.

It feels good, it feels so right I can’t explain it.

She brings out the best in me without even having to try. I’ve never felt more present than I do right now, I want every second to last a year so that I can cherish every moment we get to spend together.

Watching her laughing before me, I admire how her eyes have little crinkles around them, how her dimples deepen the louder she laughs, and how her nostrils flare slightly every time her body shakes.

I want us to be connected, I want us to be complete, whole, as one.

“Indie,” I say nervously.

She stops her laughing and looks at me anxiously, my tone seemingly sucking the fun out of the situation.

“What’s wrong?” She holds my face and scans me for answers.

“I want us to scrap the contract,” I confess, hoping desperately for her to agree with me.

She swallows before responding and looks around at the rest of the car.

“Have I done something wrong?” She asks quietly.

I pull my brows together, my mouth forming into a tight ‘O’, trying to understand what she’s talking about.

Then it hits me.

“Oh, God no. No, Indie. I don’t mean that. What I mean is I want this to be real, I don’t want a stupid contract between us. I want us to actually be this happily married couple that we are. I don’t want anything about this to be fake, I want us to be a proper family.” I explain.

Her shoulders sag with relief as she lets out a breath.

“Oh,” she says bashfully.

I shake my head with disbelief, “I can’t believe that’s the conclusion you jumped to.”

She shrugs, looking downwards. I curl my finger under her chin, raising her head so her eyes meet mine.

“Indie, I want you to have my babies,” I blurt out, the eagerness inside of me not allowing it to come out smoothly.

Biting my lip, I’m hoping I haven’t come onto her too strong, too soon.

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