Page 43 of Risk
“Possibly. Let’s travel the rest of the world before we settle on one place.” Running my hand down her back, I brushed my fingers along the crack of her ass. “We also need to think about the best place to raise a child.”
Turning her head, Aspen looked out the window to the snow-covered hill and the crystal-clear water. “Green Lake is a pretty great place, but you’re right.” She moved back to placing her chin on my chest to gaze up at me. “I thought we were waiting until you retired to think about kids. Traveling around the world from March to December wouldn’t be easy with a baby in tow, nor would it be fair for a child to not have roots.”
“I know, Doc, but know this—in five years’ time, I plan to have my baby growing in you.” I couldn’t wait to see Aspen round with my child. Just the thought had my dick twitching.
“Do you think you’ll be ready to give up driving so soon? I feel like you’ll be an old geezer behind the wheel, still kicking everyone’s ass out there.”
“More than ready.”
Before, she probably would have been right. I would have raced until I died or until I no longer had anyone willing to hire me. But now racing wasn’t what I lived for. I still loved to race, but I also lived to explore new places with her in each country we visited, to wake up with her warm body next to mine each and every morning, and to sink my dick into her tight heat every night before we fell asleep wrapped in each other. She made me realize my weaknesses didn’t make me weak. They ended up making me and our relationship stronger. Aspen woke up a part of me I never knew existed. She made me feel what true companionship was after years of thinking I could only be on my own. And when my mind didn’t believe in me any longer, she never stopped believing in me or being my champion. Aspen was always there for me, even if it was from half a world away when we had to be apart. Even now, when I occasionally started to feel an attack, which were few and far between, she helped me and reminded me how to heal myself.
Aspen Belle was no longer just my therapist. She was my everything.