Epilogue
Sabrina, About one year later . . .
In our living room, a military campaign is in full swing.
That’s my approach to holiday decorations: organize, strategize, deploy.
Around me are neat piles of ornaments separated by color and material.
At the corner of the room, strings of lights are neatly unrolled.
I’ve ensured the fragile ornaments are separated from the unbreakable, the sentimental mementos distinguished from the purely aesthetic.
I’m excited to decorate our dream home this weekend.
Now that I’m the office manager at Columbus Physiatrists Rehabilitation Center, my days are packed.
I had started out as a patient of Dr. Kyle Lane and his army of physical therapists, but soon after I realized that the time I spent there wasn’t only good for my physical recovery.
Something about the environment of intense physical dedication and commitment to healing appealed to me, similar to how hockey inspired me most of my life.
Brilliant doctors, motivated athletes, and the best in sports medicine surround me every day. I love my new career.
In this direction lies a future where I’ll make a difference in the lives of the injured. I’m part of a team ensuring people feel empowered even when their bodies are most vulnerable.
Dexter has supported my recovery and my life choices ever since I moved to Columbus.
He was ready for me to move back to Buffalo to rejoin my old team, if that’s what I wanted.
And I considered it seriously. But something has fundamentally changed in me.
Going back felt like going backward.
Who am I beyond my athletic performance?
What’s next?
When the course of my life was derailed by the accident, other paths opened. One in which hockey is part of my life, but not at the center. This new direction brought me straight into Dexter’s arms, where I’ve always belonged.
Today, he’s still my best friend.
He’s also my husband and soulmate.
The sound of the garage door opening announces his arrival from skills practice and an extended rehab session that took all day.
Dexter steps into the living room in his Mavericks workout gear, sweatpants stretched by thick hockey thighs and hair still wet from the shower.
He is so irresistible, my body springs into motion to get closer. I sidestep landmines of ornaments to throw myself at him. He catches me easily, and I bury my face in his neck. Dexter’s unique aroma of sandalwood and pine and him fills my senses.
“You are, by far, the sexiest Santa’s workshop employee in the world.” His deep voice mixes with a sexy chuckle. He points to the mistletoe I’d pinned over the kitchen doorway. “I like it when you run to give me a kiss.”
I shrug in pretend nonchalance. “Rules are rules. Gotta kiss under the mistletoe.”
“Better have one of those under every door,” he says with a smirk before fusing our mouths for a ravenous, bruising kiss. He pulls away to mumble against my mouth. “You taste so fucking good, Sabrina. Like hot chocolate and candy canes.”
He lifts me so my legs wrap around his waist, our kiss deepening.
Cocooned in his arms, I feel supported and treasured.
When he props me on the dining table, scoots me to the edge, and lodges his cock against my center, I feel something else.
His arousal stimulates my clit while he nibbles down my neck.
A large hand slides under my sweater and cups my breast. I moan at the blissful sensation of our bodies grinding.
“Are you wet for me, Baby Brie?” He uses our private nickname whenever he wants to get my attention. He definitely has my attention.
“Yes. Take me to bed, Dex.”
“I’ve got a better idea.”
He grabs a pillow from the couch and places it behind my back.
“Lie down. I’m hungry.”
God, I love when he gets like this. From sweet to spicy in a blink.
I tug at the bottom of his shirt, but he shakes his head.
Dexter whips off my sweater and bends to take a breast in his mouth. He dives in without hesitation, as if he’s been thinking about it all day and can’t wait to get his fill. I arch at the intensity of pleasure. He flicks his tongue over one nipple and tweaks the other.
I lift my hips, trying to get more friction, but he moves down to kiss my belly button. His hands are busy ripping off the rest of my clothes until I’m wiggling and naked and wrecked with lust.
“Dex, please,” I beg. Instead of kissing me where I need him most, he stands and starts unwrapping something.
“Are you opening a candy cane?” I squeak, choked with incredulity.
Why am I naked while he is fully dressed and indulging in bonbons?
He takes the candy into his mouth, tongue flicking against it, and I lose my train of thought because he is nearly too lovely to look at. Eyes the color of blue hydrangeas, hair and beard I could stroke all day, and full lips I’m dying to kiss again.
My husband, who is apparently a mind reader, bends back down and slams our mouths together. I open for him, loving the way the hit of sweet peppermint gives way to something even more delicious.
God, I could kiss him all day.
Suddenly, he’s off me again. I whine until I feel it there.
At my center, something rigid grazes my folds. It’s not his cock or his fingers. It’s much smaller, yet still stimulating. He puts my heels on the table so I’m fully open while he looks down at what he’s doing to me.
“Ah, fuck, I could come just playing with your perfect pussy, Sabrina.”
“Wh—what are you, um, playing with?”
He lifts the candy cane and wraps his lips around the curve which I now realize was rubbing against my center.
“So delicious,” he mumbles. “Want a taste?”
I nod, speechless.
But he doesn’t give me a taste. At least, not yet.
Dexter’s intense focus is downward, where’ I’m presented to him. I feel the tender grazing of the candy cane’s curved shape against my wet center. Dexter bites his bottom lip, tilting his head this way and that, like he wants to check what he’s doing at every angle.
Meanwhile, my body trembles and my pussy weeps because I’m so turned on.
Dex removes the candy cane and rubs it over my lips. I open to take it, relishing the flavor of my arousal made sweet. While he watches, I run my tongue up and down the length of the candy cane before sucking the straight end till my cheeks hollow.
A sultry chuckle leaves his lips before Dexter drops on his knees and buries his face between my thighs.
He licks and sucks and delves like I’m the best Christmas dessert he’s ever had.
My vision blurs and my body trembles with the need to come.
My entire nervous system is screaming yes yes yes to the acute pleasure of being ravished by my husband.
Opening me with searching fingers, Dexter’s tongue flattens against my throbbing, sensitive clit. And then he sucks hard while two fingers curl to stroke my inside walls.
My body stiffens. A tightness in my core steals all my attention. This is where he takes me—right at the edge till I’m thrown over into a glorious, reckless free fall. Sensation takes over as an orgasm rips through my body.
Dexter drinks all of it up, his hum of satisfaction rumbling through my channel and prolonging my climax.