Ryan’s POV
I took Serena to the best spots in San Francisco, determined to make her forget about that nightmare with Georgina. She deserved a break, sothing light and beautiful after the chaos. Every ti she smiled, sothing in my chest eased—and tightened all at once. How close I’d co to losing her. How easily the universe could’ve taken everything again.
"Ryan, look!" Serena pointed at the street perforrs near Fisherman’s Wharf, her eyes sparkling with childlike wonder.
She hadn’t laughed like that since the hospital. Hearing it again—it was like breathing fresh air for the first ti.
I slipped my arm around her waist, shielding her from the ocean wind. "Want to go check it out?"
She nodded, grinning, and I followed her lead. Maybe I was supposed to be showing her around, but it felt like she was the one reminding what life looked like.
We wandered the pier, tasting clam chowder out of bread bowls, watching sea lions argue like grumpy old n. I mostly watched her—the way she tucked her hair behind her ear, the way her nose wrinkled when she laughed.
"You’re staring," she said without looking at , her voice teasing.
"Yeah," I admitted easily. "Can you bla ?"
Later, in Golden Gate Park, the calm should’ve settled —but it didn’t. Every brush of her hand against mine, every glance she threw over her shoulder—it was driving insane.
Three nights of restraint since the hospital. Three nights of sleeping beside her, slling her, not touching her. I kept telling myself she needed rest.
She caught watching again and smiled, slow and knowing. "Ryan," she murmured, slipping her fingers through mine. "I need to use the restroom."
"There’s one over—"
The look in her eyes stopped cold. That wasn’t what she ant.
"Co with ," she whispered.
My pulse jumped. "Serena, this is— we’re in public."
She tilted her head, lips curving in that dangerous little smile. "Guess you’ll just have to be quiet too, Mr. Responsible."
The family restroom was empty and surprisingly clean. The second the door locked behind us, Serena was pressed against , her mouth finding mine hungrily.
"God, I’ve missed this," she murmured against my lips, her hands already working on my belt. "Missed you."
"We should wait until—" My words died in my throat as her hand slipped inside my pants, wrapping around .
"I’m tired of waiting," she said, stroking slowly. "I’m fine. The baby’s fine. And I want my husband."
Fuck. When she put it that way...
I growled, spinning her around so her back was against the wall. Her breath hitched as my hands found their way under her dress.
"Soone could hear us," I warned, even as my fingers pushed her underwear aside.
"Then you’ll have to keep quiet," she challenged, her eyes dark with desire.
She was already wet, ready for . I stroked her slowly, watching her bite her lip to keep from making noise.
"Is this what you want?" I asked, circling her most sensitive spot with my thumb.
She nodded frantically, her hips moving against my hand. "More," she whispered. "Please."
Those soft pleas were my undoing. I turned her around gently, lifting her dress just enough. She braced herself against the wall, looking back at with such need that I almost lost it right there.
"You sure about this?" I asked one more ti, positioning myself.
"Ryan, if you don’t fuck right now, I swear I’ll—"
I pushed into her in one smooth thrust, cutting off whatever threat she was about to make. Her gasp echoed in the small room, and I covered her mouth with my hand.
"Quiet, rember?" I whispered in her ear, starting to move slowly.
She nodded, her body trembling as I found my rhythm. Every thrust had her pressing back against , desperate for more. I kept one hand on her hip, the other moving to where she needed most.
"That’s it," I encouraged as she started to tighten around . "Let go, baby."
When she ca, she bit down on her own hand to keep from crying out. The sight of her trying to stay silent, combined with how she felt pulsing around , pushed over the edge right after her.
For a mont, we just stood there, breathing hard, my forehead pressed against her shoulder.
"Well," she finally said, a slight laugh in her voice. "That’s one San Francisco attraction not in the guidebooks."
I couldn’t help but laugh as I helped her straighten her clothes. "You’re going to be the death of , you know that?"
She turned in my arms, her expression suddenly serious. "No more talk about death. Just life. Our life."
I kissed her softly, reverently. "Our life," I agreed.
As we slipped out of the restroom (thankfully unnoticed), Serena’s hand found mine again.
"Where to next?" she asked brightly.
"Anywhere you want," I replied, aning it with every fiber of my being. With her by my side, I’d go anywhere.
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