Epilogue
Atlas
One Year Later
“We’re going to be late, Daddy! Come on!”
I grinned at my sweet boy who was nearly vibrating just inside our apartment’s front door.
I was sliding the last of my things into my carry-on at the granite-topped breakfast bar before we headed out.
Miles was looking delectable in a cornflower blue T-shirt, lightweight black jacket, and stylish jeans with black boots, and I was tempted to pull him into the bedroom for round two of the morning.
But he was right—if we didn’t leave soon, we’d miss our flight.
“I’m ready, sweet baby boy. Let’s go.”
“Finally!” he called, rolling his eyes playfully, a mischievous smile spreading on his face as he raised the handles on our suitcases.
“You know you’ll pay for that when we get to the hotel.”
He wiggled his eyebrows as we stepped into the hallway and I locked up. “Why do you think I packed my favorite paddle?”
I snickered as we headed down to the ground level.
Normally, we’d take Miles’s work truck we parked in the garage beneath the building—I had no use for a vehicle, so my car was in storage for the time being—but Dave, our usual driver, was waiting by the curb to take us to the airport so we didn’t have to worry about parking.
As we flew down the interstate, I squeezed Miles’s hand and thought about everything that had happened in the past year.
Miles had settled into downtown life quickly, and he’d discovered a newfound love of golf, which came out of nowhere for both of us.
He’d taken to the sport when a client had invited Chase and me to participate in such an event, and I’d had to beg off for obvious, lack-of-sports-talent reasons.
When I’d mentioned it to Miles, though, I could tell he was interested, so I’d brought it up with Chase.
Chase had offered to pay for lessons, and by the time the charity event occurred, Miles had a decent handicap, and the client loved him.
We’d won the client, and he’d been designated our firm’s golfing event liaison if he was interested. He usually was, when it fit into his schedule.
Because he was quite busy of late. He’d had some rough starts with his handyman business, as the customer base in downtown Seattle was extremely different from small-town Gomillion.
But he’d finally found his niche in luxury property maintenance, and he’d built a business that contracted with the most prestigious residential buildings in the city.
He was even interviewing for a second employee when we got back to help him since he now had more work than he could handle himself.
The best part? He absolutely loved what he was doing.
I was so fucking proud of him.
As for me, I adored my job with Chase, and I loved being Miles’s Daddy.
I’d even explored my gender a bit further, and I’d discovered I even had a few she/her moments now and then, though they were rare.
I was enjoying the journey of being a transgender human who didn’t have to conform to a gender binary—or gender expectations of any kind, really—and Miles took every single shift in stride.
Not only that, he celebrated every single one, even going so far as to throw me a private gender reveal party for the two of us when I discovered my gender wasn’t restricted to only the he/him and they/them parts of the spectrum.
He had balloons and streamers and cake and everything, and the whole thing was perfectly ridiculous—and I loved every minute.
It ended in a very naked, kinky way, of course, and Miles had borne the stripes of the cane I’d used on his perfect ass as a thank-you for days.
“We’re here, Daddy.” Miles’s voice broke into my thoughts, and only then did I realize the car had stopped.
“Thank you, sweet boy.” I offered him a sheepish smile. “Got lost in my head.”
“Not a problem. We’ve got a big week ahead of us—I know you have a lot on your mind.” He planted a lingering kiss on my lips before turning and stepping outside.
I took a deep breath before I exited as well. He wasn’t lying. This week was going to be busy as fuck, and I was doing my best not to stress about it.
With goodbye waves to Dave, we rolled our luggage inside, checked in, and made our flight just in time.
***
The next few days were a flurry of family, nostalgia, and last-minute planning. Miles and I barely had a moment to ourselves, but we only had one more day, then we could relax.
But first, tomorrow.
“Everything sorted with the photographer?”
I nodded at the man I loved, who was currently lounging on his side of our hotel room’s bed after his shower, completely nude and eating goddamn grapes, for fuck’s sake.
I was doing my best to stay present through the flurry of activity and all the forks the past few days had wrought, which included taking a minute to appreciate my fiancé in all his naked glory.
My eyes scanned his delectable, strong body.
His cock lay flaccid on the bed, his abs were taut and smooth, and his pecs were perfectly muscled, flexing slightly as he picked another grape off the vine.
When he popped it into his gorgeous mouth, I watched his jaw flex and release as he chewed, tucking his shoulder-length hair behind his ear when it fell into his eyes.
I got to marry this man tomorrow.
I shook my head to clear it. “Yes. Everything’s all set.
” I glanced down at the nearly complete checklist on my phone.
“Flowers, check. Out-of-town guest arrangements, check. Officiant, check. Reception rentals, caterer, string quartet, DJ, cake, check-in with the wedding planner, tuxes, dress, check, check . . . however many checks.”
Miles’s eyes shot to mine as one eyebrow flew up. “Dress?”
I smirked. “It’s a surprise. You’ll like it.”
His gorgeous grin, the one I still felt like I earned but that showed up so much more often now—at least when we were alone; my grumpy man could still grouse with the best of them—spread across his beautiful face. “I’m sure I will, Daddy. Will you wear a garter for me to take off with my teeth?”
I threw my head back and laughed. “How do you know it’s not just a dress to wear as we’re leaving? Seems like you’re making a lot of assumptions, baby boy.”
Miles pushed up on his hips, bracing on his arm. His eyes grew hungry as he devoured me with his gaze. “You know I’ll love whatever you wear, Atlas. I always do. I want to see you in all of it. And then, when we get to our destination, out of all of it.”
I laughed again when he wiggled his eyebrows comically.
Miles had been my rock as I’d planned this wedding—well, hired a wedding planner to plan this wedding.
He’d helped with all the arrangements, made calls and appointments, and calmed me the fuck down when my brain started spiraling out of control and my spoons were almost gone.
I glanced down at the engagement ring on my finger.
When I’d proposed this spring, I’d bought Miles a classic platinum band to wear during our engagement, short though it was.
He’d said yes without hesitating, then, after we’d celebrated properly, he pulled up the website of my favorite jewelry store on his phone, and we’d browsed until I found the one I wanted.
It was the perfect blend of feminine and masculine coalescing into a gorgeous ring: an artistically engraved platinum band filled with sparkling diamonds.
It was one-thousand-percent me, and I appreciated that Miles knew me well enough to know I’d want to pick out my own ring.
Fuck, I loved this man.
“You’ll get me naked soon enough, baby.” I eyed him over the top of the glasses I’d gotten a few months back. I only needed them infrequently, but Miles had confessed to a hot teacher fantasy, so we’d gotten some good use out of them.
Miles shuddered.
I grinned. “But now, we need to get to our rehearsal dinner.” A few of our friends from the reunion, Brad, Finn, Reece, Holden, Theo, Caden, and Chloe—and Chloe’s queer-platonic partner, Christian, who we’d gotten to know better over the past year—plus some of our friends from Seattle, including Anson and Nate, were in town for the wedding, so we were having a low-key bachelor party at Timbers & Tallboys to celebrate.
Miles and I had already agreed on a one-drink limit and an early-ish night.
My boy leapt to his feet, spinning to grab the pants he’d laid out on the couch opposite me—which gave me the most delicious view of his delectable ass. It still bore my handprints from a few nights ago, though they were regrettably faint. We were taking a rare break from spanking for a few days.
We had nude beach plans for the honeymoon.
The rehearsal dinner was lovely, the rehearsal itself was quick and painless, and our meetup at the bar with all the friends we’d kept in touch with over the past year and the ones we’d brought with us from Seattle was the perfect cap to the wedding planning season.
And now, everything was finally in place. I fell asleep in Miles’s arms, waking only to Miles shoving his cock between my legs and jacking me to completion as he released in my lap. Perfect start to our wedding day, I’d say.
The wedding itself took place at Yellow Branch Falls in a clearing a little off the beaten path so we wouldn’t have any interruptions.
Miles had kept the arch he’d made for the reunion last year, storing it in my momma’s shed at her insistence—I suspected she’d wanted to use it for this very purpose—and it made the ideal wedding arch.
It was covered in greenery and white and purple wildflowers, complementing the woods surrounding us.
I had indeed bought a wedding dress for the occasion.
The top was a stylish mix of lace and see-through netting, open in the back, and the fabric stretched up to my neck.
The bottom was a full satin skirt with just the hint of a train and a massive satin flower on my left hip.
And the best part? It was all in a deep purple that set off my green eyes beautifully.
It had been hard to find a hair and makeup artist in Gomillion, so I’d brought my favorite one from Seattle. We’d spent a lot of the morning talking and laughing as she got me photo-ready for the best day of my life while Miles was tying up all the loose ends.
The music started, my momma led me out of the trailer we’d rented for the day, and I stepped to the end of the aisle that was flanked by our small group of attendees.
Then I glanced up, and all I saw was Miles, tears already streaming down his face. I somehow made it up to the front without tripping over my dress in my heels, and when Miles grabbed my hands and we turned to face each other, I knew I was finally home.
Our officiant, a friend of my mother’s, gave some beautiful remarks about the power of a love that never lets go.
Our vows were next, a scripted blend of traditional vows with our unique twist. I definitely kept in the part about Miles obeying me—a secret I’d kept from him—which drew a laugh from the crowd and a shit-eating grin from him that told me he would definitely not be doing that.
I raised my eyebrow in response, and his answering smile told me he knew I would love him not obeying. That was what punishments were for.
My eyes welled as we neared the end, and I saw Miles’s mirror my own. I mouthed a “Don’t make me mess up my makeup,” which just made us both laugh through our tears.
The officiant cut into our moment to finish the ceremony. “I now pronounce you married—partners for life and soulmates for all time. Atlas, kiss your man.”
To the whoops and hollers of the fifty or so guests in attendance, I reached for the back of his neck, pulled Miles down to me, and pressed up on my toes to plant a kiss on his delicious firm lips.
I deepened it, opening my mouth enough to give him just a taste, and he growled and pulled me against him to a new round of cheers.
We only backed off when we needed to catch our breath.
After photos against the backdrop of the sun setting over the mountains in both my dress and then a tux I changed into that complemented Miles’s, we retreated to the reception tent set up nearby.
The food was delicious, the speeches were heartfelt, hilarious, or both, and the atmosphere was lovely.
But even lovelier was getting to dance with Miles again mere miles away from where we’d done it in front of almost everyone we knew for the first time.
That fateful night, over a year ago now, we’d worried it would be our last night together. We’d gone through a lot to get here—healing, growing, getting to know each other, standing by each other when shit got hard.
But tonight, we reaped the rewards of every bit of hard work that didn’t actually feel hard at all. Everything had been worth it. Because instead of this being our last night, it was the first night of our new life together.
I’d proven I could let someone love me for me. Miles had proven he could let go of what people thought and embrace who he was. We’d proven we could make it.
And as he leaned in close without hesitation—bravely, fully, and with more love than I thought possible shining in his eyes—and kissed me with everyone watching, I had no doubt he would continue to love me out loud for the rest of our lives.