Epilogue 1
“What’s this?”
I peek out from under the covers to see Emmett standing in the doorway to the closet, a small black box in his hands as he peers down curiously at it.
It’s early. Way too early to be awake after how late he kept me up last night. I don’t think I could move from this bed even if I wanted to, and I’m pretty sure my legs are still shaking from all the orgasms he gave me.
Ever since the night we rekindled our physical relationship, he’s been insatiable. For a week afterwards, we barely left the penthouse. I think he fucked me on every surface possible. And when I told him we couldn’t stay at home forever and we went back to the office, he proceeded to fuck me on every surface there, too.
He comes to sit beside me on the bed, not opening the box. He’s already in slacks and has a black button up on–though he hasn’t closed it yet, his abs and chest tattoos beckoning me to touch them.
He finally shaved his beard off earlier this week, but I’m starting to think he misses it, as he has three days of growth again. And I may have mentioned that I miss it. The way it tickles my skin when he eats me out…
I ignore the heat that sparks in my belly.
“It’s a gift,” I say, pulling my arms out from under the covers but making sure to leave my chest covered. We are not going another round this morning. My body physically is not capable, even though my pussy is claiming otherwise right now. “I was waiting for the right time to give it to you.”
“A gift?” he muses, running his fingers over the box. “What for?”
“Just because,” I admit. When I saw it at the store, I had to get it. So he always has a little piece of me with him.
“Well, in that case…” He trails off, getting up and leaving the room.
He returns a minute later with two envelopes in his hand.
I sit up, careful to keep the blanket under my arms because I don’t trust either of us. He hands me the envelopes.
“You want me to open them both?”
He tugs out the one on the bottom and gives it back to me. “This one first.”
I bite my lip, suddenly nervous. Tearing the envelope open, I pull out a folded piece of paper. When I open it, I find it’s a legal document. “What is this?” I ask, skimming the paper.
“Confirmation of transfer of title,” he explains. “I paid Tracy what you still owed on your property, and had the title transferred over to you. It’s in a safety deposit box at the bank.”
My eyes mist over. “Emmett, you shouldn’t—”
“Just… listen,” he cuts me off. “I know you can take care of yourself. I know you wanted to pay off your debt to her and that you’re more than capable of making your own way, but I wanted to do this for you.” He looks away briefly, clearing his throat. “I also talked to Skye about building a new house.”
“You’re having a house built for us?”
He reaches out, cupping my jaw. “Yes. It won’t need to be completed for a few years, so we’ll have time to plan out exactly what we want and figure out the best use of the land. That way we can make sure it fits our needs, and has enough room for all the, ah, chickens.”
“Chickens.”
“Yeah… chickens.” I swear his cheeks get red, and it’s the closest thing to a blush I’ve ever seen on his face. He’s nervous.
“And how many chickens do you want, exactly?” I ask, unable to hide my grin.
He rubs the back of his neck and looks away again. “At least a few.”
I grab his face, forgetting the blanket barrier I was trying to keep in place. “I want a few, too,” I say, meaning every word of it. “Just not right now. But we could practice in the meantime.” There’s no way I could even think about having kids right now. I’m still trying to figure myself out.
He laughs, his eyes twinkling as he takes in my now exposed chest. His hand comes up and cups one of my breasts. “I’m about two seconds from doing some practice runs,” he says, running his thumb over my nipple. A small moan gets caught in my throat. “But I’m thinking about four and a half years from now would be a good time for the real thing.”
“That’s oddly specific,” I say, trying and failing not to let his touch wind me up.
He pulls his hand away, handing me the other envelope. “Open it.”
Grabbing it from him, I open it and find another folded up piece of paper. When I open this one, it’s a list of universities. My brows pinch together, trying to figure out what this means.
“It’s a list of schools on the east coast with geology programs,” he explains. His hand disappears into his pocket, and he pulls out one of the dinosaur ornaments we bought together. I thought they’d all been lost in the fire.
“You’ve never had the chance to pursue what you’re passionate about, Riley. I want you to do that. I want you to take time for yourself to figure out what you want in life. If you want to study dead things,” he makes a face, “then I’ll support you. If you want to keep working for me and Jax, I’ll support you. And if you want to quit everything and stay home to be my sex slave,” he flashes me a devious grin, “I’d definitely support that, too.”
My hands shake as I grab the ornament from him. “What about you?” I ask, running my fingers over the divots of the dinosaur skeleton. “What if I decide to go to school and pick someplace that’s hours away?”
“Then I’ll split my time between wherever you are and here.” He shrugs, like it’d be no big deal. Reaching out, he cups my breast again. “I’d definitely put a tracker back on your phone, though.” He pinches my nipple when I shoot him a glare. “And cameras in your house. Because if I can’t be there, I need a way to check on you. Which is why I’m telling you right now that it’s going to happen.”
“Fine,” I say with an eye roll. But I’m not really annoyed. I like the idea of knowing he’s watching over me after everything that’s happened. And the fact that he’s telling me about it instead of just doing it behind my back means everything to me.
“But I’ll be there as much as I can,” he continues. “Because there’s no way I’m letting you run off by yourself, so some horny fucking college kids can ogle over you.”
I swat his hand away and laugh. “I’m too old for college kids. Twenty-six is ancient by their standards.”
“If you’re ancient, then I’m basically a corpse.”
I can’t help but giggle. He’s the best looking thirty-three-year-old corpse I’ve ever seen. But I tell him, “Oh, good! Then I can study you, since you’ll be a dead thing soon.”
He growls and tackles me back onto the bed, his mouth finding my neck and nipping at it. “Careful. I’d hate to have to punish you.” The bulge in his pants tells me otherwise.
I push at his chest, wiggling beneath him. “Wait!” I protest. “You didn’t open your gift!”
He latches onto my skin, and I shriek. His tongue darts out, lapping at the flesh he just bit before he pulls away and grabs the black box. “You know you don’t have to buy me things,” he says.
I pull the blanket back under my armpits in a feeble attempt to protect myself from his next attack. “Says the one who bought me a car. And land. And is building us a house. And just handed me a list of schools to look at, which I’m sure you won’t let me spend a dime on.”
He smirks. “Touché.”
Now I’m the one getting nervous as he unties the little ribbon around the box. I clamp my hands together.
He opens the lid, his brow furrowing as he looks inside.
“I know it’s not much,” I start rambling, “but I saw it and thought you could have a piece of me with you when you wore them, and it’s probably silly, but—”
“I love them,” he says softly, running his fingers over the little dinosaur cufflinks in the box. “They’re perfect, Riley. Thank you.” He leans forward and kisses me. “Though, I think this is a sign you should probably study the dead things.”
I laugh and throw my arms around him, pulling him down on top of me. “I think so, too. But first, we have some practicing to do.”