Thornhill Road (Love Me Tender)

Epilogue

Tess

Ten Months Later

It had been one year—to the day—since we first met. It wasn’t hard to convince Mustang the occasion warranted a date. It was even easier to get him to agree the only logical place for us to go on said date was the biker bar in which we’d met.

It didn’t matter that he was there all the time, or that I still found myself at the bar, in a pair of kickass jeans and killer heels on a somewhat regular basis. Neither did it matter that he was thirty-seven years sober, and I was four months pregnant—which meant we’d be at the bar, surrounded by a bunch of patrons getting drunk, while we simply enjoyed the live music and each other’s company.

Steel Mustang was, no doubt, the only logical place for us to go.

So, we were there, at the bar, with Winnie, Bull, and a couple of their brothers, enjoying the live music and each other’s company.

As Mustang grazed his knuckles repetitively up and down my side, I admitted that for me—it was his company I was enjoying the most.

It was hard to believe it had already been a year.

So much had happened in such a short span of time.

In spite of our weird schedules, our little family had managed to find a rhythm. Winnie remained a godsend, but we’d also totally lucked out with a new neighbor who had a daughter who happened to be perfect babysitting age. Grace was amazing, and Mary-Kate loved her.

Then again, Mary-Kate was a sweetheart. She loved almost everyone.

Grace had one more year before she graduated high school and left us all in pursuit of her dreams. I tried not to think about when the time would come that we’d have to say goodbye—though, as my belly began to expand with our anticipated new arrival, I knew everything would look different in a year anyway.

Even though we had a fair bit of summer ahead of us, Mary-Kate was already excited for the fall. She’d attended part-time preschool the previous school year, and she could hardly wait to start kindergarten. She thought school was so fun, and—in classic Mary-Kate fashion—she’d made friends with just about all her classmates. She was always quick to remind anyone that Otto was still her bestest friend, but she looked forward to getting to return to a classroom filled with kids she wouldn’t see over the break.

Even though she’d suffered a loss the previous summer, Mustang’s little princess was resilient. She was also thriving with the consistency of living under one roof. Mustang never said it out loud, but I could see how proud he was to be able to give her the kind of life where she couldn’t wait to go back to school. It was so much more than the childhood he’d been given.

School had never been his thing, seeing as he had other things to worry about. Other grown-up things no kid should have to shoulder. But Mary-Kate didn’t have to carry such burdens. Mustang didn’t care if it was school or something else. Whatever dreams his daughter wanted to go after, he intended to make sure she was free to chase them.

It was one of the many reasons why I loved him.

While it had been fairly easy to find a rhythm at home, life as an ol’ lady to a Wild Stallion had come with its own challenges.

The guys were great. They were family—mine as much as Mustang’s—and I’d learned quickly how much respect came with my title.

It was actually kind of badass.

Yet, while club business wasn’t always a big deal, or even something Mustang put on my radar, there had been a few nights over the last year when I didn’t sleep so well—my man out on business with his brothers.

Winnie hadn’t steered me wrong. I wasn’t sure I was ever going to get used to the inherent dangers attached to some aspects of their MC lifestyle, but it came with the territory. If nothing else, I’d learned to accept it. I trusted Mustang. Even more, I’d learned to trust the other Stallions to have his back. Their loyalty to one another was a beautiful thing, and that’s what I loved about being a part of the Wild Stallions family.

No matter how ugly or illegal or terrifying things got, it didn’t change the hearts of those men.

Deep down, all they really wanted was to live free and protect their own.

Most of them, anyway.

I felt Mustang’s lips graze my ear a second before he asked, “You ready to ride, sugar?”

As I turned my head, touching my nose to his, I didn’t hide my smile.

No way we’d been at the bar for longer than an hour, which meant we hadn’t even hit ten o’clock—but we both knew I was never going to make it to the last act that night.

I was a woman who thrived on cat naps and coffee.

But I’d temporarily given up coffee, and a cat nap whilst growing a human was a joke.

I wanted three things that night.

First, to sit at the bar at Steel Mustang.

Second, to feel the wind in my hair as we took to the open road on his hog.

Third, to stay awake for the best part.

I knew, if he was ready to go, he was hoping to make sure I got all three.

I answered with a nod, he took my hand, and we were out the door.

I waved to Winnie as we went. She smirked and winked in reply.

The jeans I had on that night wouldn’t close anymore, but thanks to my new maternity belly band, I still rocked them and was able to get on and off the Harley with practiced ease.

Sadly, I hadn’t been able to get my feet into my pink Jimmy Choos—but on the bright side, the alternative was seriously badass.

For my birthday, Mustang bought me a pair of Christian Louboutin calf leather, red sole, Chelsea ankle booties. They had a three-inch heel, a rubber sole, and an elastic collar that all but guaranteed I could fit my swollen ankles inside throughout my pregnancy.

I loved my man.

My boots were proof he loved me, too.

He revved his Harley’s engine, and I held him tight. I wasn’t sure how much longer I’d be able to ride, but I intended to enjoy the freedom as long as it lasted.

It was around mid-December when Mustang and I started talking about trying for a baby. It was Mary-Kate who brought it up first when she asked for a sibling for Christmas. Apparently, one of her classmates was expecting a baby brother at the time, which made it top of mind as she curated her list for Santa.

That night in bed, Mustang asked me if I was ready.

The next morning, I stopped taking my birth control.

We hardly thought about the fact that we’d only been together six months.

Like every move we made together, we were all in fast.

It took us three months before we finally got that double pink line.

While it was a bit of a spoiler, with an ETA a year later than she’d originally hoped, on Mary-Kate’s fifth birthday, we told her she’d be a big sister come Christmas.

Mustang drove a half hour out and then turned around and brought me home.

It wasn’t a long ride, but it sure did do the trick.

I once told him I didn’t want to get used to the way the rumble of his hog turned me on. Thanks to my pregnancy hormones, there was no danger of that. If anything, it made me even more ravenous.

Before I moved to climb off the back, I squeezed my arms around him tighter, propping my chin on his shoulder as I murmured, “You’re gonna have to handle Grace. I can’t do small talk right now. All I can think about is how badly I want you inside me.”

Mustang gave my thigh a squeeze then demanded, “Off, baby.”

I obeyed.

When he dismounted, he turned towards me, grabbed a fistful of my hair, then kissed me deep. I moaned, leaning myself against him as I pressed my thighs together, the ache at my center distractingly huge.

He ripped his mouth away from mine, leaving me panting as he said, “Don’t lose that feeling, Tess. I’ll meet you in the bedroom. You fall asleep before I get there, I’ll spank your ass.”

I shivered at his threat and the promise held therein.

There was no way I was falling asleep.

Still, I breathed, “Don’t take too long.”

He let me go and we made our way inside. I managed to breeze by Grace with a wave, a thank you, and the excuse that I needed to check on Mary-Kate before I fell into bed.

She didn’t seem to mind. Besides, Mustang was always the one who paid her before walking her two houses down.

I peeked in on our little princess to find her fast asleep, and I lingered for a moment in her doorway. I blamed it on the baby inside of me, my new longing to watch her while she slept. Just for a couple minutes. Her curly hair was already everywhere from tossing and turning, like the wild sleeper she was, and it made me smile.

When I’d had my fill, I carefully closed her door and crossed the hall to our bedroom.

Mustang had agreed to let me spruce it up a bit and paint the walls that spring.

They were a dark shade of graphic charcoal , creating a warm, masculine, yet sexy vibe in the room. To soften it up, there were pops of light, neutral colors here and there, making it the perfect combination of him and me.

I’d slipped out of my boots and socks and was working my way out of my shirt when I heard Mustang’s footsteps down the hall. My top hit the floor as he passed over the threshold, and he wasted not a second before he shut and locked the door. He shrugged out of his kutte next, hanging it on its hook before he prowled toward me.

My excited giggle couldn’t be helped.

As soon as he had me in his arms, his mouth closed around mine, my giggle soon dissolved into a satisfied sigh.

I slid my hands underneath the fabric of his shirt, skimming my way over his abs and up his chest before he broke our kiss in order to yank the shirt over his head. It hadn’t hit the ground, and he was already unclasping my bra while I reached for the button at his jeans. I got his zipper down before he was kissing me again.

He had one hand at the back of my head, the other holding one side of my butt, my naked breasts and pebbled nipples pressed flush against his warm, hard chest.

It was sensational—but I wanted more .

“Babe,” I whimpered, clinging to his neck. “I need you. Now .”

At that, he took hold of my hips, spun me around, then hooked his thumbs into the top of my belly band and began to shove. With my own hands, I helped him work the rest of my clothing over my hips.

Trusting him to handle the rest, I bent over the side of the bed, propping myself up on my forearms before glancing back at him from over my shoulder.

My jeans around my ankles, his jeans around his, he placed a hand on the small of my back, positioned himself at my entrance, then slammed inside of me.

It was heaven .

“Oh, yes,” I moaned unabashedly, throwing my head back.

Three thrusts, and I was coming.

He didn’t stop but continued pounding into me hard and fast.

When he reached underneath my hip and down between my legs, he found my clit blindly and I was pretty sure my first orgasm was quickly trumped by my second.

Freaking sublime .

The pleasure was so, so good. I balled the comforter beneath my hands into fists as I dropped my head, muting my cries within the folds of our bed covers.

My center was still constricting and releasing, my legs trembling when he pulled out of me.

I was vaguely aware of the sound of his boots dropping on the floor as I tried to catch my breath. It wasn’t until he tapped the side of my leg, signaling me to lift one foot and then the other, that I stepped out of my jeans.

“Middle of the bed, baby,” he instructed.

I nodded as I crawled to the middle of the bed and rolled onto my back.

Then he was there, his weight between my legs, his hard length heavy against my lower abdomen—slightly swollen with our baby.

Our baby .

I could hardly wait to make him a daddy again.

Leaning on one forearm, he gazed down at me, resting his hand at my left hip before he grazed his thumb over my pelvis. We both knew, without either of us looking down, he’d nailed the spot exactly. He touched me there often, and it still sent a thrill up my spine even months later.

He’d labeled me his ol’ lady in August.

I’d moved in shortly thereafter.

By September, I was branded.

The tattoo was simple and feminine—a black and gray depiction of a mustang leaping through the air, the design following the curve where my thigh met my hip.

It hurt like none other when I got it, but it was beautiful, and totally worth it.

Especially because Mustang loved it.

And I loved it every time he touched me there, almost reverently.

When he moved to slide inside of me, he did so slowly, easing all the way in until I was full. Then he kissed me, deep and wet.

I hitched my knees up to his hips, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as he pulled out patiently before he came back on a hard thrust.

As he made love to me, I luxuriated in the slow burn of passion he stoked at my center.

He took his time, and I knew what was building inside of me was going to be out of this world.

“ Mustang ,” I breathed, tightening my limbs.

“Hold on, sugar,” he demanded, his hips jerking harder.

“Oh, god,” I moaned, feeling my way up the back of his neck as my fingers sought purchase in his hair.

He nipped at my bottom lip as he pulled out, a low growl crawling up his throat as he pounded in.

“Babe!” I whimpered, on the verge.

“Let go, baby—I’m right behind you.”

I lifted my head, sealing my lips with his, forcing him to swallow my moan as I came long and hard.

After he swallowed my cry, I inhaled his groan as he found his release, riding me until we were both spent.

He lay on top of me for only a moment, then he rolled us both until he was on his back, me plastered down his front. When I lost him from inside of me, a soft mew spilled from my lips, still hypersensitive to his every touch.

My hair fell on either side of my face, but he gathered it into his hands, holding it back so he could see clearly into my eyes. I was on the cusp of telling him I should probably go clean myself up before I passed out—but he spoke first.

“You’re mine, baby. Known it for a while now. MK, the club—they all know you belong to me.”

“Of course, I do,” I murmured, slightly confused. “Always, sweetheart.”

“It’s time everyone else knew.”

I shook my head, still not understanding.

“Marry me, Tess.”

A zing shot through my belly, and I shivered as a thrill raced up my spine.

I knew he felt the shiver when his lips curled into a crocked smile.

“That a yes?” he muttered when I didn’t respond.

A soft laugh bubbled out of me even as my vision began to blur with tears.

We never talked about marriage, and I couldn’t believe he’d asked. I was perfectly content being his ol’ lady, knowing that was as good as a wife in the MC world. I was pregnant with his child and branded as his—there was no question we were already tied together forever.

But after a year, I should have known better.

My man was always one step ahead of me.

My perfect match.

“Yes,” I whispered with a nod. “Yes, Sully Mustang Thomas. Yes!”

He grinned.

Then he kissed me.

Deep and greedy.

Just like always.