24. Royce
Morning sun filtered through the cabin windows while Willow slept soundlessly next to me, her limbs tangled around me like vines. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder, a small sigh leaving her lips, but she didn’t wake up. I’d tired her out last night—or I should say this morning—and by the sounds of her soft snores, I didn’t expect her to wake up anytime soon.
I operated fine on minimal shut-eye, thanks to my time in the service. The same couldn’t be said for Willow. She got cranky, and she knew it.
I slid out of bed and went to check on the navigation and positioning. I’d been using a technique called “heaving to” and an autopilot system when I wasn’t on the deck. It slowed the boat’s forward motion and it kept it relatively stationary.
Satisfied that we were still on track to hit land in a few days, I made us some coffee and breakfast, and then returned to bed just as Willow stirred.
Her cheeks flushed, she met my gaze, and a smile touched my lips. I placed the tray on the bedside table and gave her a quick peck.
“Good morning. Sleep well?”
“Like a baby.” Her hooded eyes traveled down my body. “You should wear sweatpants more often,” she husked. “And nothing else. Starting now.”
I chuckled.
“I’ll take that under consideration, wife.” I loved when she was playful like this. “Hungry?”
“Like a wolf.” She stretched, then patted the spot next to her. The sparkle in her eyes made something dark and possessive travel through my chest. I want to be the cause of that sparkle for the rest of my life, I thought. “Will you eat with me?”
“I’d rather eat your pussy,” I said, a smug grin creeping over my lips as she let out a strangled laugh. “It’s the most delicious meal I’ve ever had.”
She lifted her head and pressed a soft kiss on my mouth. “None of that until you eat.”
“I was going to,” I grumbled.
Her lips twitched. “Not until you eat real food. And stop saying pussy so early in the morning or I’ll start saying cock.”
A smile threatened to spill from my lips. “As long as it’s my cock you’re referring to.”
“Hmmm, I’m not sure.”
I rolled her over, pinning her arms above her head, and she let out a squeal.
“You better be sure,” I growled, but her laugh was contagious, and I had a hard time keeping a serious face.
“I’m joking,” she teased. “It’s always your cock I’m thinking about.”
My shoulders relaxed and I released her wrists. “Good girl.”
Willow had been embedded into my very being for such a long time that I couldn’t even fathom a life without her. And over the past weeks, it had become clear that being apart from her was no longer an option. She soothed the savage beast inside me, and while I yearned to have her in all the salacious ways I could think of, I also didn’t want to hurt her or scare her away.
Now that I’d had her—tasted her—it was impossible to go back to the way things were. She was my lover, my friend… my fucking wife. Her happiness took priority over my own needs.
I reached over to grab a cup of decaf coffee and handed her the mug.
“I read a few pregnancy books, and saw that one cup is okay during pregnancy.” In fact, I’d done extensive research and called several OB/GYNs who were now on my speed dial, but I’d keep that to myself for now. I didn’t want to alarm her with my somewhat obsessive nature. We were best friends, so she’d seen hints of it, but that barely scratched the surface.
Her fingers wrapped around it and she sighed in delight. “It smells divine. Thank you,” she murmured, her eyes meeting mine over the rim of it as she took a sip. “No coffee for you?”
“I already had two cups.”
Her eyes widened. “How long have you been awake?”
“Few hours.”
“Your sleeping habits still haven’t improved?” Over the years, Willow had learned that no matter what time of day or night, she could always get in touch with me. Sometimes, she’d call and talk to me about the most boring things she could think of in hopes of putting me to sleep. It never worked, but I loved hearing her voice, so I let her believe it did. Only so she would call me again the next day and the day after.
“I missed our phone calls,” I joked. “It’s been hard without my best friend.”
Her wistful sigh tugged at my heart. “I’m sorry. I should have been a better friend.”
“No, I should have,” I corrected her. “If I had been, I would have seen that Stuart?—”
She placed a finger against my mouth before I could finish the sentence. “It led us here. No regrets.”
“No regrets,” I echoed. “Now, eat your breakfast. You’re going to need your strength.”
She giggled. “Are we finally getting to the kinky sex today?”
I studied her seriously. I wasn’t sure she was ready for what I had in mind. Before I could do something stupid, I stood up and turned toward the bathroom.
“If you consider exploring an island ‘kinky sex,’ then sure.”
Then I walked into the bathroom with an obvious hard-on, not missing her delighted cackle.