“Okay. You may continue.”
He latches back on to my neck, and I moan because it’s fantastic. Then, “Did you start the dishwasher before you left?”
He groans against me. “Are you being serious right now?”
“Yes! I just don’t want to have to walk into a full, dirty load of dishes when we get home. Is that too much to ask?”
“
I’m trying to put a full, dirty load into you, if you don’t mind.”
I gape at him.
He waggles his eyebrows at me.
“Yes,” I say. “Do that. Let’s do that. Now. Right now.”
The elevator dings, and there is a group of little girls standing outside the door with an older woman.
“Mom,” one of the girls asks, voice high. “What are those strange men doing? Is the little one choking? Is that why the big one is grabbing him like that?”
“He’s a space cowboy,” I tell them. “And I’m a lounge singer who—”
The mother glares at us as Otter pulls me out of the elevator. “Oh please!” I yell back at her. “If those are your kids, then you’ve already done what we’re about to do!”
“They’re not all mine!” she yells back. “I’m a chaperone.”
“Oh. My bad! Believe in Jesus and stay in school, kids!”
“You are going to get us arrested,” Otter snarls at me. “Your little brother’s boyfriend is going to come here and arrest us.”
“That would be the worst thing that’s ever happened,” I tell him. “So, you should probably fuck me as soon as we get inside in case we don’t have a lot of time.”
He makes another strangled noise before he swipes the key card against the door. It beeps, a green light flashing, and he shoves the door open before he jerks me inside and slams it behind us.
“Holy shit,” we both say at the same time.
Because the room is huge. They weren’t kidding when they said we had a suite. The doorway opens up to a large room with two overstuffed couches and a TV that might be bigger than every TV I’ve owned combined. A few stairs lead down to a lower floor where a king-sized bed sits. There is a row of windows that leads out to a balcony that overlooks the Pacific Ocean, lights twinkling on boats, stars bright overhead.
“Can we afford this?” I demand. “We’re about to have twins.”
“It’s fine,” Otter says. “Remember how we get points on the card for this kind of thing?”
“Fuck me,” I whisper. “You are such a dad. Why is that suddenly a thing for me?”
He grins over at me, the green and gold in his eyes darkening a little. “Yeah? That’s a thing? Daddy space cowboy?” He grimaces. “That came out sounding creepier than I meant it to.”
“I’m not going to call you Daddy.”
“You kind of already do.”
“Not like that. That would make it weird.”
“Yeah, because role-playing lounge singer and astronaut leaving for Mars isn’t already weird,” he says, completely deadpan.
“We have to keep the spark alive! Anna says—”
He frowns. “What a minute. What do you mean Anna says? Is that—of course that’s where this came from.”