Three Strikes and You're Mine

by R.S. Grey

“You better use the restroom before we leave.” “I can just go in the ocean!” “Harper!” “It doesn’t even bother the fish!”

If reading regency porn on the beach is wrong, throw me in handcuffs

On screen, there’s a whole damn plot playing out—Olaf’s apparently dead?!—but

The way he can pick me up like this, like I’m just a barnacle along for the ride…it should not turn me on this much, but it does.

I mean, I have an IUD, but he didn’t know that. I told him on the way home, and he didn’t seem all that relieved to hear it. It was more like I was stating a fact. Oh look, that street name is Huckleberry Lane. I like sandwiches. And by the way, my gynecologist placed a copper device in my uterus so there will be no surprise pregnancy for us.

The crushing weight of a child’s love isn’t crushing at all. It’s weightless. Termless. Restriction-less. It’s the most freely given love there is,