85. Epilogue
Epilogue
Jordan
“I have something I need to show you.”
Mac’s soft smile smacks me right in the center of my chest as he looks up at me from the drum pad in his lap. Twirling the sticks between his fingers, digits that have worked me open multiple times over the last few weeks, he licks his lips and drops his gaze to the bulge in my sweats that just happen to be grey.
We’ve been taking things slow, his demands, not mine. Though I’ll admit that I’ve enjoyed every second of him letting me find myself within us. Figuring out what I like and what feels incredible without any judgement.
Just … slowly.
“I’ll take another peek, sure.”
Chuckling, I shake my head. “Not that, Vida. We have to leave for this one.”
It’s something that I’d nearly forgotten about doing for him considering it was while Mac was on his European tour.
But when Peach called to tell me he’d finished working the piece I’d asked him to complete when they got back, my stomach rolled with nerves.
I think he’ll like what I did.
Though I can’t help but feel that I possibly overstepped.
Only one way to find out.
“Leave? Why would we leave ?” He reaches for me, snagging my hips before I can deflect him, and pulls me into his lap.
Straddling his hips, hands on my waist, Mac leans in and slants his lips over mine.
I give in easily, opening up to him and letting each swipe of his tongue ease the nerves twisting my gut.
“I can still taste my cum on your lips,” he nearly growls, my snicker getting cut off by him diving back in to lick and taste.
It’s easy to get lost in the remnants of a sexy shower where I knelt for him, swallowed his dick, and finally got my fill of his salty-sweet flavor. Especially when my embarrassment of a gag reflex turned out to be hot as shit to him.
Gag on my cock, baby , he’d said.
And boy, did I.
“Vida,” I rumble, fighting against the magnetic pull of him, only to lose and dive in for three more kisses to his swollen lips.
God, I’ll never tire of kissing him.
“Tyro,” he mumbles back and trails his lips down my jaw to my neck.
Pure strength of will is the only thing that peels me away from him, leaving puckered lips hanging in midair, as I climb off the bed.
“If you keep doing that, we’ll never see sunlight again.”
He snorts and presses a palm to his tented crotch. “I could live with that.”
I feel the heat of his gaze follow me as I drop the sweats and replace them with jeans.
“Were those my underwear?”
Grinning, I thumb the elastic waistband up enough to peek out over the denim. Just enough of a flash of color to tease him.
“Goddamn you,” he mumbles and darts up from the bed, grabbing me from behind and pressing kisses to the back of my neck.
Then he snags the waistband of both layers, yanks them down to slap my bare ass, and pats them right back into place.
My snicker is breathy and wanton.
Jesus, what has he done to me?
I feel like I’m ten years younger and falling in love all over again for the first time. Shit, most days I feel like I’m discovering sex with someone I care about all over again for the first time, and in some ways I am, but there’s just something about this thing with Mac that is nothing like what I’ve known.
Hell, it’s better than fiction.
“C’mon, Vida,” I say with a smile that catches his eye once he’s dressed, and hold out my hand.
He takes it, holding tight all the way through my empty gym, past Lemon at the front desk who catcalls us sexy daddies as we pass. Mac laughs and waves. I roll my eyes the rest of the way to the car.
After a quick check in via the walkie strapped to my ear, I toss a hand to the back of Mac’s head rest and start backing up.
Mac’s hiss from the passenger seat has me easing on the brake pedal.
“What?” His eyes are comically wide and staring right at the arm I have stretched between us. “I swear if you say some shit about my ink, I’m blaming you.”
Mac blinks like he’s coming back to the car and swallows. “What? No . Why would I say that about something I helped pick out?”
I chew on the inside of my cheek, an attempt at dampening the heat taking over the cabin of the car.
“Then why—” My voice cracks and I clear my throat. “Why are you still staring at it?”
Mac’s plush lips purse, drawing my attention, and he sighs. “Be cause ,” he almost whines. “It’s fucking hot .”
“Me driving is hot?”
“No, no, no.” He shakes his head and licks his lips as I maneuver us out onto the street. “ You . Driving this beast of a classic. With that ink.” His eyes roll back, and he grunts. “Looking like my fucking wet dreams , Tyro baby.”
The flush creeping up my face has nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the flames flinging between us.
“Go ahead. Pump up my head a little more, why don’t you.”
He slides across the bucket seat and dips a hand between my legs, cupping my cock. “Okay.”
“Ah, shit,” I groan and widen my knees only for him to retreat, tucking his hands in his lap.
“You ever gonna tell me what the soundwave in there is?”
Clearing my throat, I bite my lip.
“You ever going to tell me why you call me tyro ?”
He snickers. “Hell no. You made me look up Vida . Google that shit.”
I did.
Seven years ago.
It means beginner.
And while I wasn’t fond of the reminder when I first joined Sentry, and Mac, now I’m pretty stuck on the endearment’s accuracy.
Mac was the start of so many things for me. The entry to this life, his love, where I end up with him by my side. The introduction to my sexuality, my career, my business.
The life I always wanted but was too afraid to reach for.
It’s almost as if he knew back then.
He might be my life, but I’m his beginning.
Pulling up to the back alley of Aria’s boutique, I drive a little further down the lane until we’re just behind the third storefront and park.
“ This is what you wanted to show me?”
My nod is slight, my smile knowing.
“Exactly. C’mon.”
Scanning the alleyway, I round the car and pull open his door, grabbing his hand again as it slams closed.
Palm to palm in the fading sunlight that paints the night in an orange glow, I tug his bandana down over his eyes and lead him into the back of the formerly empty building with my heart pounding and my skin prickling.
Fuck, I hope he likes it.
“Wait here. No peeking.”
Leaving him in the center of it all, I run around the room to flip on the twinkle lights and neon signs I’d hung while I was ignoring that I was in love with him.
I don’t make it to pulling all of the dust covers before I’m drawn back to his side by that ever-present draw only he has. He’ll get the gist.
“Okay,” I murmur and step to him. “If you hate it, I can undo it. So just … be nice.”
He’s vibrating when I cup his face and thumb up the material over his eyes. He blinks at me, pupils flexing with adjustment to the sudden light, and gasps .
“ You didn’t .”
Biting my lip, I nod, stepping back for him to get the full view.
“ You turned it into a real fucking arcade?!”
His voice cracks on that last bit as he swings around, taking in the addition of old school gaming machines all around the room mixed with a few of the newer ones. The color-splattered carpet. The posters and signs. A bar with only root beer on tap and every flavor of soda imaginable at the fountain once we refresh the syrups. There’s even a candy display that’s yet to be stocked.
When he spins back to me, his bottom lip is wobbling, and his eyes are misted over.
“Well? What do you think?”
Those tears spill over his lashes and he dives into me, wrapping his arms around my neck and kissing the air from my lungs.
“It’s amazing.”
Sniffling, I let loose a wet snicker and clear my throat.
“There’s one more thing.”
Mac pins me with a look that screams all the things his voice doesn’t say. “When did you do all of this?”
I shrug and clasp his hand in mine, tugging him in the direction of the front. “When you were gone.”
“You—” A choked sound cuts him off and more tears cascade down his face. “ Jordan .”
The corner of my lips tip up and I pull him to me as we round the wall I added, making sure his back is to the still wet mural.
Good. Fucking. God.
I clear my throat and blink back the moisture in my own eyes at the sight.
Peach sent me a photo that absolutely did not do this justice.
It’s perfect.
Grabbing Mac’s shoulders, I pull in a composing breath filled with his rich, sweet scent and grin.
But, fuck, it’s still watery.
“Okay, fuck, just turn around.”
I push on his shoulders, and he spins.
Gasps.
Sobs .
“Oh my God,” he whispers and grabs for me though he’s not looking away from the painting taking up the entire expanse of the shop’s front.
Wrapping my arms around his waist, I set my chin on his shoulder and hug him tightly.
He’s shaking as he points, counting each drum painted into the wall, calling them by names.
It’s so damn real it looks like a fucking picture hung on the wall, not a drawing of a touring drum set highlighted by rays of sunlight.
“Two toms, floor, snare … crash … bass— This is my set .” He trembles and I nod.
“Yeah, mi Vida. It is.” My heart pounds with the final bit of this surprise I was certain I’d never be able to give him. “And, um, the windows behind us look in on this. You can see it from the street.”
His shoulders shake and he tightens the grip on my forearm.
“Show me.”
Keeping his hand in mine, I pull the covers from the windows, flip on the spotlight and guide him out the front.
His mouth drops wide at the sight, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“We could open it to the public, if you want, Vida.” I watch as he stares in awe at the place. “All you gotta do it pick a name.”
Mac turns to me, his breath hitching, and wraps his arms around my neck.
Then he’s kissing me stupid and it’s wet. Sweet. Full of so much passion and love and hope, that it makes me feel like we could withstand anything.
And after everything we’ve been through?
I know we could.
“Jordan, this is everything I didn’t know I needed,” he chokes out through a smile. “God, I love you so fucking much.”
I nod and smile with my heart pattering a beat that syncs to his.
“Thanks for giving me the chance, Vida.” I swipe the back of my knuckles over his damp cheek. “And thanks for loving me when I didn’t even know I needed it.”
The End