Epilogue
HALLIE
Colt and I stood in the doorway, hand in hand, staring at what his crew had accomplished while the reception had been going on.
Colt and I had taken another very cold walk on the beach under the moonlight, and when we returned, things looked normal.
Like there hadn’t been a wedding. The glass structures were still in place, along with the tables and lights, but everything else had been cleaned up.
They’d left the strings of lights along the porch and the candles in the windows. The touches that made everything look magical.
And inside? Inside was even more incredible.
“Oh my god,” I breathed.
The living room had been completely transformed.
Where there had been my dad’s old couch and worn furniture, there was now a four-poster king bed draped in white linens and surrounded by more of those twinkling lights.
The fireplace was lit, casting everything in a warm, romantic glow.
Champagne chilled in an ice bucket at the foot of the bed, along with a bowl of strawberries that were definitely flown in from another hemisphere.
“Colt,” I turned to him, tears already forming. “This is amazing.”
“I wanted you to have the honeymoon suite you deserved,” he said, pulling me close. “Right here. In your favorite place.”
“Our favorite place,” I corrected. “It’s ours now.”
“Ours,” he agreed, and kissed me softly.
We stepped inside, and he closed the door behind us. Suddenly, the reality of it all hit me.
We were married. Actually, legally, permanently married.
And we were alone. With a bed. And champagne. And nowhere to be for the next two days. Total privacy. No responsibilities.
“Mrs. Jesson,” Colt said, his voice dropping to that low register that made my knees weak. “What do you want to do first?”
I looked at the bed, then at him, then back at the bed.
“I think you know.”
His smile was pure wickedness. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
He scooped me up in his arms, making me squeal, and carried me to the bed. He laid me down gently on the soft linens, then stood back to look at me.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.
“Just memorizing this moment.” His eyes traveled over me, warm and loving. “My wife. In our house. On our wedding night.”
I held up a hand. “Hold that thought.”
“What?”
“Pour us some champagne,” I said, sliding off the bed. “I’ll be right back.”
His eyebrows rose. “Where are you going?”
“You’ll see.” I kissed him quickly before heading for the stairs. “Don’t go anywhere.”
“Wild horses couldn’t drag me away,” he called after me.
I climbed the stairs as quickly as I could in my wedding dress, my heart pounding with anticipation. In the master bedroom, I’d stashed a bag earlier—one that contained the lingerie I’d picked out specifically for tonight.
My hands shook slightly as I unzipped my dress and let it pool at my feet. The fabric was so beautiful, so perfect, but right now I wanted it off. I wanted to be in something that would make my husband’s jaw drop and his cock pop.
I pulled out the white lace set, a delicate bra with intricate patterns and matching panties that left very little to the imagination. The material was soft and luxurious against my skin. I’d also bought white thigh-high stockings with lace tops and a sheer robe that tied at the waist.
I looked at myself in the mirror and barely recognized the woman staring back. My makeup was still perfect despite all the happy tears. My hair had come loose from its style, falling in messy waves around my shoulders. And the lingerie made me feel powerful, sexy, and desirable.
Our wedding night was finally here. The first time we’d be together as husband and wife. I had been waiting two whole days for this, which wasn’t a long time, but it had felt like several eternities. I didn’t have to wait anymore.
I took a deep breath, tied the robe loosely around my waist, and headed back downstairs. Colt was standing by the fireplace, two champagne flutes in his hands. He’d taken off his jacket and bow tie, and his shirt was partially unbuttoned. He looked relaxed and gorgeous and mine.
When he heard me on the stairs, he turned. And the champagne glasses nearly slipped from his hands.
“I do,” he breathed.
I walked toward him slowly, letting the sheer robe flow behind me with each step. His eyes tracked my movement, darkening with desire as he took in every detail of what I was wearing.
I smiled and shook my head at him. “You already said I do earlier.”
“I should have said it louder.” His voice was rough. “Hallie, you’re going to kill me.”
I smiled and took one of the champagne flutes from his hand. “We should probably toast first. Before I become a widow on my wedding night.”
He laughed, the sound strained. “Right. Toast. We can do that.”
We raised our glasses.
“To us,” I said.
“To forever,” he added.
We clinked glasses and drank, our eyes locked on each other. The champagne was crisp and cold, but it did nothing to cool the heat building between us.
Colt set our glasses down on the mantel. His hands came to my waist, fingers playing with the tie of my robe.
“Can I?” he asked.
“You better.”
He pulled the tie slowly, and the robe fell open. He groaned as he took in the full effect of the lingerie. The way the lace cupped my breasts, the way the panties hugged my curves, the way the stockings made my legs look impossibly long.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. “So fucking beautiful.”
I reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt, my fingers steady now despite my racing heart. “Your turn.”
He let me undress him slowly, my hands pushing the shirt off his shoulders, then working on his belt. I took my time, enjoying the way his muscles tensed under my touch, the way his breathing got heavier with each piece of clothing I removed.
When he was down to just his boxer briefs, I could see how much he wanted me. The evidence was impossible to miss.
I sank to my knees in front of him.
“Hallie,” he said, his voice tight. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I interrupted, looking up at him. “Let me do this for you.”
His eyes darkened even more. I hooked my fingers in the waistband of his boxer briefs and pulled them down slowly. He stepped out of them, and then he was completely bare before me.
I wrapped my hand around him, feeling the heat and hardness of him. He groaned, his hand coming to rest on top of my head, fingers threading through my hair.
I leaned forward and took him in my mouth.
The sound he made was somewhere between a curse and a prayer.
I started slowly, using my tongue and my lips with my hand massaging his balls and the lower part of his shaft. I’d learned what he liked over the past weeks—the pressure he preferred, the rhythm that drove him crazy, the way he responded when I took him deeper.
“Fuck, Hallie,” he groaned. “That feels so good.”
I looked up at him through my lashes and found him watching me with an intensity that made my core clench. His jaw was tight, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his hand gentle but firm in my hair. His fingertips massaged my scalp.
I increased my pace, taking him deeper, using my hand to stroke what my mouth couldn’t reach. His hips started moving in small thrusts. I relaxed my throat to take him.
“Hallie, I’m close,” he warned.
I didn’t stop. I wanted this. Wanted to give him this pleasure on our wedding night.
His grip tightened in my hair, and then he was coming, his whole body tensing as he groaned my name. I swallowed, taking everything he gave me, not stopping until he was completely spent.
When I finally pulled back, he was looking at me like I’d just performed a miracle.
“Come here,” he said, his voice rough.
He pulled me to my feet and kissed me hard, not caring about anything except having his mouth on mine. His hands roamed over my body, cupping my breasts through the lace, sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me against him.
“Bed,” he murmured against my lips. “Now.”
He walked me backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed, then gently pushed me down. I scooted back until I was in the center. He climbed on after me, his eyes on fire.
“My turn,” he said.
He started at my ankles, kissing his way up my legs, his hands following the path of his mouth. When he reached the lace tops of my stockings, he paused.
“These are staying on,” he decided. “They’re too fucking sexy.”
I laughed, but it turned into a moan as his mouth moved higher, kissing the inside of my thighs. He hooked his fingers in my panties and pulled them down slowly, tossing them aside.
Then his mouth was on me, and I forgot how to breathe.
He was thorough and deliberate, using his tongue in ways that made my back arch off the bed. My hands fisted in his hair as he worked me higher and higher, building the tension until I was trembling.
“Colt,” I gasped. “Please.”
“Please what?” he murmured against me, the vibration sending shocks through my system.
“I need you. Inside me.”
He kissed his way back up my body, pausing to unhook my bra and toss it aside. His mouth closed over one nipple while his hand teased the other, and I writhed beneath him.
“Colt,” I said again, more urgently this time. “I need you now.”
He positioned himself at my entrance, and then paused, looking down at me with an expression I couldn’t quite read.
“What?” I asked.
“No protection,” he said. “We’ve never done this without a condom.”
My heart skipped. He was right. Even when we’d been pretending, we’d always been careful. But now?
“We’re married,” I said softly. “We don’t need protection anymore. Unless you want to wait.”
“Nope.” His answer was immediate. “I don’t want to wait. I want to feel you. All of you. Nothing between us.”
“Then do it,” I whispered. “Make love to your wife.”
He pushed inside me slowly, and we both gasped at the sensation. It felt different without the barrier—more intimate, more intense, more real.
“Oh god,” I breathed as he filled me completely.
“You feel incredible,” he groaned. “So perfect.”
He started moving, slow and deep, his eyes locked on mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he groaned again.
“Hallie,” he murmured. “My Hallie. My wife.”
“My husband,” I said back, the words still feeling new and wonderful on my tongue.
He picked up the pace, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through me. I could feel myself getting close, the tension building in my core.
“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “I want to feel you come around me.”
I slipped my hand between us and found my clit, circling it with my fingers. The added stimulation was exactly what I needed, and within seconds I was tumbling over the edge.
I cried out his name as the orgasm crashed through me, my body clenching around him. He groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as my body milked him.
“I’m going to come,” he warned. “Damn, you turn me into a wild man. I just can’t get enough of you.”
“Do it,” I gasped. “Come inside me.”
That was all it took. He buried himself deep and came with a shout, his entire body shuddering. I could feel him pulsing inside me, filling me. It was the most intimate thing we’d ever done.
He collapsed on top of me, both of us breathing hard, our bodies slick with sweat. After a moment, he rolled to the side, pulling me with him so we were facing each other.
“Better,” he said. “So much better.”
I traced patterns on his chest, feeling completely satisfied and utterly happy. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He pulled me closer. “Best wedding night ever.”
“It’s your only wedding night,” I pointed out.
“Exactly. Which makes it the best by default.”
I laughed and snuggled into him. The fire crackled, and the lights twinkled. I was wrapped in my husband’s arms.
My husband.
The thought still sent a thrill through me.
“What are you thinking about?” Colt asked.
“How lucky I am,” I said honestly.
“Fate,” he said simply. “We were always meant to end up here.”
“You really believe that?”
“I do.” He kissed the top of my head. “I think the universe has been trying to push us together since we were teenagers. It just took us a while to get the message.”
I thought about that beach night all those years ago. About how hurt I’d been when he didn’t show up. About how that hurt had carried me into adulthood, shaping my choices and my pain.
But now I could see it differently. If things had worked out back then, we would have been different people. Younger. Less ready. We might not have made it.
“There is one more thing I’m thinking about right now,” I told him.
“What is it?”
I looked up at him with a smile. “We’re not going to leave the bed in the living room, are we?”