Sadie
Thirteen months later...
I GIGGLED AS Ryder carried me over the threshold of our tiny fishing cabin in Maine. It was our one-year wedding anniversary, and we’d returned to the place we’d spent our honeymoon, a trip Ryder promised we’d do every year.
The snow had started, so I knew we had limited time to set up our love bubble before we’d be snowed in. “We have to get the food out of the car, honey.”
“I know, but first this.”
I squealed in laughter as he shifted me so I was over his shoulder. He smacked my bottom as he carried me into the bedroom and flopped me onto the bed, straddling me to keep me pinned so he could kiss me. I kissed him back and gripped his hips as we rapidly approached the point of no return.
He broke the kiss first and rolled onto his back. “Okay, food first. I’ll eat you later.”
“Huh-uh,” I countered. “I want a quickie.”
Knifing off the bed, he pried off my boots, yanked off my jeans, panties and all, and buried his face between my thighs. I immediately lost my ability to breathe, let alone worry about needing to get food and luggage out of the car. I slid my ankles over his shoulders and arched my hips as he sucked my clit and slid two fingers inside of me. “Ryder,” I panted. “I need you, honey.”
He unzipped his jeans and pushed them down over his hips, kneeling between my legs and sliding gently into me. I wrapped my legs around his waist and rolled him onto his back so I was straddling him. “Did no one teach you never to come to bed with your boots on?”
“You said quickie, baby, I’m obligin’.”
I giggled, lifting so I could lower slowly, eliciting a delicious little hiss from his mouth. “More?”
Ryder grinned. “Yeah, Sadie, more. But, I want access to the girls.”
I pulled off my shirt and unhooked my bra, freeing “the girls,” and Ryder’s hands immediately cupped my breasts, his thumbs running over my ultra-sensitive nipples. Dropping my head back, I let him work my body into a frenzy as I rode him, but in pure Ryder form, he let me have that for about two minutes before I was on my back again and he was slamming into me, his hand between our bodies, his fingers working my clit.
I cried out as I climaxed almost immediately, weaving my hands into his hair and kissing him gently. “I was enjoying that!” I complained.
He chuckled. “Baby, you said quickie. We gotta get the shit out of the car. Don’t worry, you’re gonna have ten more of those before the night’s over.”
He slid out of me, grabbed a washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned me up, then we got dressed (well, I got dressed, he pulled his pants up) and we headed back out to the car. We dragged our groceries into the cabin and as we put them away, I reflected on our crazy year.
I had been released from the hospital the day after my abduction. I’d required a few stitches in my scalp because I’d sliced it when I tried to fight Brick off and slammed it against the sharp corner of the desk on my way down. I quickly realized I was lucky I’d been knocked unconscious, because Brick had put several cuts on my legs before Ryder had arrived, but only one required stitches. Ryder held back all the details of what he saw when he got to me, but I was okay with that, because Brick had given me a rundown of what he planned to do to me. I had been assured he wasn’t given the chance.
Hatch was back in prison (as was Brick) and this time it would stick. Cameron made sure of it, and with my testimony and that of two other witnesses, it was an airtight case.
Because the Spiders were still actively seeking the girls, as was the Russian mob, the plan had been made that all the girls would stay hidden. Since no one would divulge who the witnesses were, Ryder and Cameron chose to hide them all. Disguised as nuns in fact. They joked that their lives had turned into a version of Sister Act. The three girls under the age of eighteen were transferred into the care of my aunt, so she had a full house, but loved every minute of it.
Once the drama calmed down, so did Ryder. He was far less possessive and outrageously protective. Don’t get me wrong, he still held onto his fetish, but he did it a lot more respectfully and we’d even started attending church together... not every week, but it was a start.
Reese and I had become besties. How the heck that happened, I have no idea, but we’d settled into a comfortable sibling-type relationship. Much to Ryder’s worry, Scottie had flown the nest, her counseling helping to heal her mind, while the ever watchful Ollie helped her to feel safe. She’d moved in with two friends she’d met at work and seemed to be loving the arrangement.
Our wedding day had been idyllic. We ended up having to wait close to a month for the church, but in the end it was a good thing. Who knew even a “simple” wedding would take a little time to plan?
My A-line dress was a dream. It was made of lace and tulle, and had a halter neckline and beaded sash, and the back had a double keyhole-type cutout. I had been a little concerned about the bust (a tad tight around my breasts, giving me more cleavage that I was used to), but Bethany and Laura told me if I tried to alter it or return the dress, they’d maim me. I’d swept my hair in a pretty bun at the side of head, but low, with daisies wrapped around it. A lace veil topped off the perfection and I’d never felt so beautiful in my life.
Auntie gave me away and when I took Ryder’s hand, his wet eyes told me everything I needed to know. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered before we stood at the altar and said our vows.
Ryder slipped a white gold band on my finger and I slipped a black-and-white gold band on his. The day was capped off with a party to end all parties at our new home, until Ryder took me to a hotel for the night before we flew to Maine, leaving our family to clean up.
Sex was, how do you say, mind-blowing? No, that’s really not a good enough description for me. I could not get enough. Bethany’s parents had suggested we put a quarter in a jar every time we had sex during our first year of marriage and we thought it would be fun, so we did. Ryder took it a step further and (in pure Ryder fashion) insisted we put a quarter in for every orgasm he gave me. Even without counting our premarital naughtiness, we quickly graduated to one of those humongous water jugs Ryder had at the bar (yes, he was that good). I guess the tradition is to take a quarter out every time you have sex in your second year of marriage, but we decided we’d just keep adding to it. “Our kid fund,” he called it.
So here we were, getting ready to buckle down for our annual love bubble trip, putting groceries away, and taking a break to get fully naked this time.
“I have an anniversary present for you,” he said as we lay in the bed.
“Really?” I grinned. “I have one for you too.”
“You first.”
“Huh-uh, you first.”
“Same time?” he suggested.
“Okay.” I sat up and slid off the bed, waiting for him to do the same. “Go!”
We made a rush for our bags and grabbed the gifts. I’d wrapped mine intricately with pretty paper and ribbon... he handed me a gift bag from a jewelry store. I didn’t care. It was jewelry, after all. We knelt, facing each other on the bed.
“Ready?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Go.”
We tore into our presents and I opened a leather box to find a diamond anniversary band that matched my engagement ring. I slid it onto my finger just above my other two rings and sighed in pleasure. It was perfect.
“Oh, honey, it’s amazing.” I glanced up at him when he said nothing and scooted toward him so our knees touched. “Are you okay?”
He held up the pregnancy test, his eyes damp. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “Yep. I took four this morning.”
“You’re shittin’ me.”
I giggled. “Nope. I’ll call the doctor when we get back and schedule an appointment.”
“Holy shit, Sadie, we’re gonna have a baby!” He let out a hoot and jumped off the bed, pulling me with him and dancing me around the very tiny room.
“I know! I can’t wait.”
“Me neither.” He pulled me closer, cupping my cheeks. “I love you, baby. More than anything in the world. Thank you.”
“I love you, too.” I grinned up at him, laying my hand on my still-flat belly. “And this little one’s going to worship the ground you walk on.”
“Nah, he and I’ll save that for you.”
“Girls tend to love their daddies more than their mommies.”
“But boys always love their mamas more.”
“We’ll make sure we have one of each then,” I said.
“Or four of each.”
I giggled. “Let’s start with two and go from there.”
“Sounds good.” He laid his hand over mine. “Are you feeling okay? Any nausea?”
“Not yet. Don’t worry, honey, it’s all good.”
“Okay. Well, we better take it easy this week.”
“Uh, no way, Jose! It’s love bubble time! We’re not taking anything easy... at least in the sex department.”
Ryder chuckled. “I’ve created a monster.”
“Darn tootin’,” I quipped. “I am determined to have enough college money in those darn water jugs for three kids by our fifth wedding anniversary.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yep. You’ve just added fifty cents to the pot.” I nodded to the bed. “Wanna go for a dollar?”
With a roar of laughter, he lifted me off my feet and lowered me onto the bed, our college fund guaranteed to flourish.
Eight-and-a-half months later, Tristan Ryder Carsen arrived with a feisty bellow and his daddy’s blue eyes. Our eight pound, twenty-one-inch miracle couldn’t have been more loved, and we wasted no time adding more to the college fund as we tried for a girl.
Life was weird, considering I was an ex-nun who found herself married to a badass kind of man, but I couldn’t have asked for anything better. I was right where I was supposed to be and I loved it.