Five Years Later
Roman and I wander through a field of wildflowers just past the cabin. It’s the first time in months we’ve had alone time together. I suppose I should’ve known having three kids within five years would make life busy, but I hadn’t expected it to be this busy.
Liam is five, Dahlia is three and a half, and Marly just turned one. Nick and Melinda offered to keep them for the weekend. Usually, I’m not one to let the kids out of my sight, but with Nick and Melinda trying for their own, I figured the dose of reality would be a favor.
Roman sets the picnic basket in the meadow between two tall pines and stretches out the blanket, then lays back, inviting me in with dark eyes. The same dark eyes that’ve gotten me into trouble over and over again for the past five years.
“We should do this once a week, even if it’s just for the afternoon,” he says as I lay beside him, my head on his chest as we look up at the clouds.
“I’d love that,” I say, holding the back of my sundress down as a breeze pushes through the field.
It’s warm for spring, nearly eighty today, which is unheard of for Colorado at this altitude in May.
Roman turns towards me, his hand on my hip. “Have you thought anymore about that herbal shop you were thinking about?”
I shrug, “I don’t know if I have the time. I mean, you’re busy up with work at the park, and starting a shop would mean so much energy.” Truthfully, even though I’ve wanted the shop forever, just talking about it is sucking the energy from me. “Maybe in a few years when the kids are older.”
“Don’t be mad at me,” he says as he sits up, his eyes wide.
My stomach clenches. I trust Roman whole heartedly, but I’m a bit particular when it comes to the kids and I sense something about them is coming.
“I talked to your Mom and she’d be willing to take them a few days a week while you work. Besides, Liam will be starting school this year and—”
“Do you really think this could work?” I ask, wanting to let myself feel excitement, but not wanting to get too invested.
He nods and pulls me tighter into his chest. “There’s a shop down at the end of the main road. I already talked to the owner. It’s ours if you want it.”
I know what shop he’s talking about. Originally, it was a house. An older home that’s been sitting there since the early nineteen hundreds. It’s been remodeled multiple times, and the esthetic is nice with a cute front porch, planter boxes, and white trim. For the longest time, it was an ice cream shop before the owners moved on. Not only would the location be great, but I’d also have great sun for an onsite herbal garden.
“Let’s do it,” I say with wide eyes. “If you’re sure…. I mean…”
My shoulders slump as doubt sneaks back in, then straighten again. “No. Really, lets do it.”
Roman smiles coyly and narrows his eyes in towards mine, as he pulls a key from his pocket. “Good, because I already told them yes.”
“What if I’d have said no?”
He smiles and tips into my neck, nibbling on the lobe of my hear. “Well, then I’d just have to beg for your forgiveness.”
I tip my head back, inviting him in, the summer sun warm on my shoulders. “Maybe I should make you beg for forgiveness anyway.”
He pulls on the lobe of my ear with his teeth. “I’ll gladly beg for whatever you like.”
Dragging his tongue down the side of my neck, he pulls each strap of my dress down, exposing my full, round breasts. One at a time, he pulls a suction up on each nipple, lapping up the milk that drips before kissing his way to my core.
I let out a moan as his lips meet my mound, the rough scrape of his beard against my skin welcomed and slightly ticklish. How is it that I’ve had him so many times but still want more? I run my hands through his hair as my back arches away from the blanket. The sound of birds’ squalls above us, like voyeurs in the mid-day sun.
Roman swirls his tongue around my clit and pulls up a suction. I let out a moan, an ache to let him know how much I need him.
“You okay, Princess?” he asks, sliding two wide fingers inside of me.
“I’m not. I wish you’d…”
He smiles and presses into me harder, scratching his fingers back in a come-hither motion that presses into my G-spot.
Another moan escapes my throat. “Fuck me, Roman. Please. I want to feel you.” There’s a deep ache in my voice, that perpetuates motion within him.
He stands and unbuckles his pants, pulling them down and off. His long, hard cock now like a sword in the wind as he kneels between my legs and twists me onto my knees.
Slowly, he presses his thick cock inside. Inch by inch, deeper and deeper, until he’s thrusting against the slick juices of my cavern with ease. His hands grip my hips before one slides between my legs, circling my clit as he grinds against my ass. My eyes squeeze closed as a rise of euphoria leaves the base of my neck and travels down my spine, holding at the center for a moment before exploding into my core.
The convulsion of my hips as Roman writhes inside of me is enough to put him over the edge. He pulls both hands back, settling them on my hips and presses into me harder, faster, slow, then fast again before finally coming.
For a moment, we both stay still. Enjoying the heat of each other’s bodies, the fresh scent of spring flowers, and the far cry of birds that have now moved on from the meadow.
Roman pulls out of me and throws himself onto the blanket, holding his arm out with care towards me.
“Fuck, we’re so damn good at that.”
I roll my eyes playfully and settle into his grip with a smile. “I know, that’s probably why we have three kids under five.”
He laughs and runs his hand up and down the side of my arm, a light breeze blowing across our naked bodies as we lay out under the sun.
“I’m excited for this, Princess.”
“For what?” I ask, lobbing my leg up and over his as I stroke his sensitive dick, now flaccid against his leg.
“For us. For this. For our family. For your shop. For living our dreams together out here on this mountainside.”
“Me too,” I say, too relaxed to move.
It’s funny how life works out. I left this small town at eighteen, thinking the city had all the answers. Now I realize the answers were right in front of me the whole time. And love, real love, was never more than a stone’s throw away.