Her Sweet Cake

Epilogue 2

JORDAN

Twenty-one months later…

I gently close the nursery door with a final peek at my baby boy and smile to myself.

He’s going to be down for at least another hour, I think.

He spent the morning playing outside in the clearing just to the side of our cabin with my wife and me, toddling around in the snow to his little heart’s content, and he’s totally knackered.

He fell asleep after his bottle with most of his winter gear still on. I can still hear his delighted squeals as he tasted the cold snow before throwing it at my head and chortling with laughter, eyes as blue as my own creasing at the corners, those chubby cheeks of his all rosy, the little blonde curls that had escaped his fluffy green hat framing his angelic little face.

My wife says we couldn’t have made him look more like a baby Cupid if we tried, and I guess she’s right. The little troublemaker is absolutely adorable.

I am not sure how much of this soft, duckling cuteness is going to stick to him if he continues growing at this rate, though. Today he barely turns one, and as far as toddlers go, he's already a giant and looks twice his age, and when he doesn't get his way and scowls, he looks just like me already –shit's funny as hell.

He is definitely going to grow into a huge bear of a man, just like me and his grandpa, and by then, my guess is that most of the fuzzy cuteness is going to be out of the question unless my wife is the one doing the judging. I'm big and can glower with the best of them, and I've been known to scare the piss out of more than one brave soul, and yet my wife still finds I can be cute. So, no matter all the scowling, maybe there will be hope for my little ringer as well when he's all grown up. At least in the eyes of a good woman, that is.

I take the stairs two at a time, eager to spend some quality time with my woman before family and friends descend on us. Micah’s first birthday party is in a couple of hours.

My mom, who has been going increasingly insane since Trudy and I found out that we were pregnant almost two years ago, has taken the role of dotting grandma on like nobody’s business, and about a year ago, she even convinced my dad, and sister that they should also get a place in Sylvan Creek since my little family and I live permanently in our cabin with only an occasional trip to Denver. In her opinion, we were, and I quote, starving our kid of the affection of his grandparents and auntie that rightfully belonged to him as their grandson-slash-nephew by having them only talk with the little boy twice per day on FaceTime and seeing him in person three days out of every week, so we had to find a solution.

My woman has been on top of the moon ever since they started talking about moving into town, and when I saw how happy it made her, I began to see the idea's merits.

My family loves the fuck out of my wife, she's like a real daughter and sister to them, and they have been making her feel welcomed and loved since day one, and she loves them just as much. If she could, she'd have the lot of them living here year-round. I know for a fact that persuading my dad would be easy since he's left the helm of the family company to me and my sister, and he's currently enjoying his retirement. Even Luce wouldn't be a too hard nut to crack since she can easily work remotely from here. Mother, compared to the rest of us, though, is another species entirely. She might be eager to steal my little son away every chance she gets, but when it comes down to devotion to her social calendar, she's a true society maven, so at least for part of every year, she has to have the kind of whirlwind that a tiny town like Sylvan Creek could never provide her with. This is also the reason why the crazy lady has been trying to convince us we should have Micah's birthday party in Denver for the past month or so. She had all these absolutely bonkers ideas that, as my first son and heir, he needed some kind of presentation event, like we're royalty or some shit. No fucking way I was throwing my precious baby boy to the vultures at the risk of ending up with his little face plastered on every local newspaper. I already have a hard time keeping our life secure without having my wife feel like a trapped bird as it is. The last thing we need is to end up having to fend off kidnapping attempts of one the wealthiest babies in Colorado and the States at large because of the added publicity. So, no matter that she's one of my favorite people in the world, even with her baby-fevered craziness, I had to disappoint Mom.

I have to say, she did see reason, especially when my ‘ no’ came along with one of those orange boxes from Hermes she loves so damn much.

Plus, my baby boy is fucking one. He goes to bed at seven p.m. at the latest; he would have been cranky all through the damn coronation party or whatever the fuck Mom had concocted for him. Nothing but a small gathering of family and friends in our living room in front of the blazing fireplace with tons of presents for a child I know will get more enjoyment from the crinkling wrapping paper of his gifts than from the million and one toys his crazy grandparents, auntie, not to mention my wife’s bestie, Kayla – his godmother– bought for him.

Also, my Trudy loved the idea of having his little party at home in the afternoon when he could actually be awake for it and happy enough to enjoy it.

She wanted to cook everything herself for our guests with just my help, including the almost too pretty and too-realistic-to-eat Paw Patrol cake.

She jokes that I’m her favorite sous-chef, but we both know I’m there just to fetch things that are stored too high for her short ass to reach, steal a taste here and there of whatever she’s making, grabbing her around the waist so I can kiss the fuck out of her from time to time, while generally making a nuisance of myself while she does her thing. We both fucking love it.

I slip into the kitchen unnoticed and smile as I stand near the door watching my wife. She’s softly humming along with whatever song’s coming through her earbuds –knowing her, it’s a Coldplay track– her hips swaying while she dances in place. There’s a ginormous tray of chocolate cupcakes in front of her, and she’s stirring what I know is an orange-flavored custard for the filling. I already know we’re going to fight over all the sweets she’s baking. It’s a good thing she always goes overboard with quantities. Even our little son, though he’s barely one, already has a taste for her delicious concoctions, and she made him a few healthier baby-appropriate tiny carrot cupcakes sweetened with a dollop of fig puree in them since most types of sugars are still a no-no for him; they are currently cooling in front of the open window.

I walk into the room and don’t stop until I’m standing right behind her, my arms circling her waist just as she feels my presence. She tilts her head to look up at me and smiles, meeting my kiss halfway with her lips.

I give her one more squeeze, then grab the spoon she's holding and steal it away to get a taste of the cream.

Trudy turns in my arms and shakes her head as she pulls her earbuds out and lays them on the kitchen counter. “Thief,” she scolds. “You always have to steal a taste!”

I nod. “Or two… the frosting over there is next on my list. Do you want to know what’s the following item after that?”

Trudy giggles. “I can imagine,” she quips saucily.

I drop the spoon and lower myself to my knees in front of her, kissing her soft tummy through the sweater-dress she has on over the too-tight, deliciously sexy leggings she’s not allowed to wear outside of our house. I press my forehead to her mound and breathe her in, trying to catch a whiff of her private essence, my fingers digging into the firm, plump cheeks of her bottom.

“Hidden behind these clothes is the only supply of cream that’s really worth stealing, my love. The only thing on the planet that’s better than any of your cakes… the only thing I could live on for the rest of my life…”

My woman’s breath catches in her throat as she murmurs my name, her hands coming down to sift through my air.

“You shouldn’t tempt me like this when you know there are a million things to do around here for the party!”

I look up at her, chin resting against her cute little belly that I could spend hours nibbling on. “I shouldn’t tempt you, and you shouldn’t look this fucking gorgeous, babe. So you see, the fault is more yours than mine, sweetheart!”

She pushes me away and gives a little curtsey. “I bow to your supreme logic, husband of mine!”

I chuckle; she's such a goof sometimes!

I try to hug her to my body again, but she escapes to check on the cookies.

I crowd her against the kitchen counter and then I pick her up into my arms, making her giggle.

I kiss along her neck and down her shoulder, tickling her there with my beard, and she laughs harder, swatting my wandering hands away. “The custard!”

I put her down back on her feet, and she pushes the bowl of filling away from the edge where my antics had made it slide.

“Is Micah still sleeping?” she asks, throwing her arms around my neck.

I nod, nuzzling the top of her head with my chin as I hold her to me. “Yeah, I think he’s gonna have a longer-than-usual nap, babe.”

My wife kisses my chest, which is the only place she can reach when we’re standing in front of each other and I don’t give her a little boost up or bend slightly myself. I smile. I love that she’s so tiny compared to me. I get a kick out of carrying her everywhere and picking her up like the little curvy doll that she is.

“He had so much fun with the snow! And he wasn’t the only one!”

I chuckle. “True… I might be a computer-loving nerd, but nothing is funnier than playing in the snow like a kid with our son.”

Trudy gives me an impish look. “You sure that nothing is funnier than that? ‘Cause even though I had a blast with the snow myself, I can think of one or two funnier things.”

I give her a smirk. “I meant amongst kid-friendly activities, that’s the funniest, my love.”

“Good saving! Not great, but decent enough…”

I feel my wife’s hands cheekily go down to my bottom and give me a pinch on both sides.

I jump a little. “Hey!”

She laughs, and I just have to kiss her again.

I can’t resist her when she’s this playful.

Then again, I can’t resist her when she’s got the flu as well.

I don’t think there’s anything she could ever do or say that would turn me off. She’s simply irresistible to me.

As it often happens when we kiss, things in the kitchen start to heat up in more than one way and we are soon lost in each other.

When we can no longer breathe, we pull away, gasping. I keep her pressed all along my body; both hands spread over her bountiful ass, her core molded to the hardening cock growing behind my suddenly too-tight jeans.

“Do you have something in the oven, babe?” I ask as I kiss down the column of her neck.

She shakes her head, hands grasping my back to pull me down on her.

“No, it’s… it’s pre-heating for the last batch of cookies.”

"Good, let's turn it off, cupcake," I say on her lips, and then I walk up to the stove to do just that, dragging her behind me by her hand. Once I'm sure the appliance is off, I pick her up, throwing her legs around my waist.

Trudy splays one hand over my chest, pushing me backward a little. “I’m not sure we have time, love… your parents, Lucy… the guests, they’ll be on their way soon.”

I throw a look at the smartwatch on my wrist and then start to nibble her shoulder, pulling the elasticized sleeve of her dress down and away from her supple, silky skin as far as it would go.

I drop a kiss onto her forehead. “Don’t worry, baby. We’ve got time. Everything will be ready by the time they all get here. Me, on the other hand, I’m more than ready now… you wouldn’t be so mean as to leave me like this?!”

I rock her against my erection, and she gasps.

My wife bites down into her full lower lip as she looks up at me with those big soulful eyes of hers that get me every damn time.

“I would never do such a thing, love,” she whispers on my throat and then pulls me back for a kiss.

“Good girl,” I murmur on her lips and then send my tongue after hers.

She responds to my kiss with all the zest she’s capable of, driving me utterly insane in the process, my dick lurching painfully hard behind the zipper of my jeans.

I grunt into her mouth, and she loops her arms around my neck, rocking upward into me until she’s pressing her needy center into my lower stomach. She grinds against me to make herself feel good, and the little mewling moans that escape her lips as we kiss nearly make me go off here and now. I start to look around for a place to put her down so I can fuck her.

No way I’m making it all the way upstairs when she gets like this in my arms. I need to get inside her, pronto.

I walk toward the breakfast island, holding her to me, and she breaks the kiss and looks at me pleadingly.

I frown down at her. “What’s the matter, babygirl?”

She huffs out a breath. “Put me down, Jor. I’m heavy to carry, you know that.”

I roll my eyes at her, feeling my jaw tick away in frustration.

“I don’t know shit about you being too heavy, babe. I don’t know how you can come up with this bullshit.”

I can't believe we're back on this again. It took me months when we started dating to convince my baby that I had no qualms about her curves, and, in fact, I was quite enamored with them. She's been talked down about not being thin all her life. So, it wasn't easy to persuade her to my way of thinking and build up her confidence and self-esteem, but we finally managed to get her to a healthy place. I was sure that by the time she became my wife, this would be behind us and she would be done feeling shy about her weight and self-deprecating, and I was right to an extent.

Then we got pregnant with Micah, and she bloomed even more curves. To me, she looked like a fucking breathing and walking wet dream, but she was sad about being even more round. She got it into her head that I didn’t find her attractive anymore when I started to be careful in bed with her just because I didn’t think it was a good idea fucking her hard and deep like I wanted, like we both needed, while she was carrying our baby boy. Since no argument seemed to work to calm her worries, I decided that words weren’t going to do her any good, so I pretty much spent her whole pregnancy fucking her out of her unfounded convictions.

I was on her pretty much every time I looked at her, and she got past her insecurities once more.

Then we had Micah, and she got it into her head she had to go back to her pre-pregnancy weight and nearly drove me up the wall with dieting and exercising and stuff, even though I told her a million times that the extra padding didn't bother me one bit, in fact, it had gotten into all the right places and, as far as I was concerned, she looked absolutely gorgeous.

Still, she was sad that she could not fit in her favorite pair of jeans anymore –no matter how many times I told her to toss those shits into the garbage and simply get identical new ones in the proper size– and so we picked up running together, exercising in the state-of-the-art gym in our basement, with our training sessions more often than not ending with me fucking her hard over one machine or the other. When that was not enough, we cut sugar out almost entirely from our diet; not an easy feat, considering her line of work and my sweet tooth, but we managed to survive the horrible ordeal.

In the end, Trudy got rid of almost all the baby weight but a few stubborn pounds and I myself lost a couple. She could once more rock her jeans and I could once again enjoy her cakes, finally. Since she hasn’t manage to lose all the weight she deemed necessary even though it’s been but a year since she gave birth to my bruiser of a son –a thing she keeps forgetting to take into account, no matter what I say– from time to time, she still has these moments when she gets crazy and tells me stuff like the silliness she just came up with.

Heavy, my ass!

Trudy starts to slide down my body to get to the floor that her little obstinate ass could never reach unless I wanted to put her down myself, which I don’t. “Jordan!”

I deliver a swift swat to her juicy bottom, and she gasps, jumping against my chest and really making me risk an embarrassing accident when she smashes her hot pussy against my groin.

“Don’t, baby! For the umpteenth time, you are not too heavy. You are perfect and beautiful, and I love the fuck out of your curves, and if you let me hear you talk bad about yourself and this body that can and does drive me insane at the drop of a hat again, I will really spank your ass cherry red. I’m not down with this shit, cupcake. I’m not joking.”

For some reason, she starts to laugh at me. This woman is crazy.

“I can’t understand why you get so mad about this,” she says, shaking her head.

I look down at her, sitting her on the edge of the breakfast island.

“Wouldn’t you get mad at me if I started to talk crap about myself and made the both of us miserable in doing it?”

She gives it some thought and then nods. “I get it. It would break my heart if it happened.”

I kiss her temple softly, her short honey-colored curls tickling my lips. “Exactly. It fucking hurts me when you hurt, baby. No more of this, please.”

She sighs, eyes shining with a layer of unshed tears. “No more, I promise.”

I kiss her nose and then her lips. “You better. I’m going to hold you to this promise, sweetheart, and if you break it, I’m really going to spank you this time.”

She smiles at me. “That’s the wrong kind of threat, love.”

I grin, gently pushing her backward until she’s lying on the black marble. “Well, then I’ll spank you if you don’t break your promise and find some other way to punish your disobedient little ass if you do go back on your word.”

My wife giggles as I follow her down onto the island with my bulk. “Promises, promises!” she teases, scrunching up her nose, and I shake my head.

She’s impossible to stay angry at when she acts this cute.

That’s how she always gets my ass to comply with whatever she wants. She practically owns me; woe to me the day she completely figures this shit out.

Her laughter turns into a mewl of pleasure when I rock my swelling erection against her and grind my hardness onto her softness as I cover her, my lips seeking hers again for a long, all-consuming kiss that zaps any reasonable thought straight out of my head until all I can think about is being inside her.

I practically tear her leggings and cute mint green silk panties off of her, bunching them in a ball that I haphazardly throw somewhere behind us. I do the same thing with the thermal Henley I’m wearing before turning my attention to unbuckling my belt and opening my jeans to get some relief from the pressure on my hard cock.

I don’t even bother taking the rest of our clothes off, simply rolling her sweater-dress upward and lowering my boxers until my swollen dick springs free between us, slapping my beautiful wife on her smooth, creamy stomach.

With a little boy that seems to have a hidden talent for ending his naps just as my woman and I are getting ready for some loving, we've become black belts in quick fuck around here. It's always hard and fast when we come together during the day since we don't have time to loll in bed with our little criminal, who's always getting into trouble if he's not under strict supervision for more than sixty seconds.

The slow, dirty, delicious marathon-fucking that kept us busy day and night when it was just the two of us still happens because we’re addicted to it and each other, but only after dark.

I look down at her. “You wet for me, baby?” I ask, already panting for her.

She gives me a nod and a blush that just wraps around my heart and then slides one hand between us because she loves to drive me up the fucking wall.

I watch, mesmerized, as Trudy swipes one finger between her lower lips, coating it in her sticky sweetness.

I push between her legs, caressing her hips.

“Fuck, I love how quickly you get soaked for me, baby.”

She raises her glistening fingertip to my lips but pulls it away before I can reach it with my tongue, making me chuckle.

She slowly slides it along her lower lip like she’s putting on fucking gloss, making my cock lurch painfully as more pre-cum beads at my crown.

I lean down to lick her cream off her lips, moaning at the taste of her, my balls tightening up and ready to give up all my cum as soon as her flavor hits me. “Damn, cupcake, you taste amazing,” I grunt on her mouth before devouring her lips with another breath-stealing kiss.

I reach behind her back to unhook her bra so I can get my mouth on her magnificent breasts as she wraps her thighs around me, my cockhead already bumping against her wet clit.

Trudy spreads her thighs for me, eyes holding mine, and I almost swallow my tongue at the sight of the pink, snug little haven that belongs only to me between her legs.

I feel pre-cum start to steadily drip from my crown onto her puffy, petal-soft pussy lips, my eyes glued to her gleaming folds.

“Goddammit, baby, you’re so fucking beautiful! I wish you could see yourself like I see you.”

One of my wife’s hands reaches up to caress the side of my face, fingers playing with my beard. “Oh, Jordan…”

As always, at first impact, for a moment, her lush, delicate naked beauty makes me lose my breath.

My eyes sweep up and down her curvy body and I want to do everything at once to her, but there’s no time for games right now.

I lean over my elbows to kiss her lips again, but my wife breaks away, her mouth at my ear as she pulls me even more down over her, my body plastered to hers.

I feel her nibble my lobe and nearly mark her pussy folds and clit with a full load.

“Fuck, baby!” I growl into the sweet-smelling skin of her neck, my hips rocking into her, the head of my cock kissing her slick tight opening.

How is it that we can go from playing around to me acting like a stark, raving lunatic animal in seconds once I get her under me?

“Please, Jordan!” she clutches me to her, hands gripping my shoulders.

“Tell me what you want, love,” I whisper onto her throat, breathing her scent into my lungs. She always smells fucking delicious on her own already, and adding the aroma of cookies wafting around us and her tangy arousal to the mix isn’t helping me any to keep a grip on my frazzled control.

My wife takes a shaky breath and then further inflames me by uttering the most balls-bursting words she could come up with to drive me mad with lust. “Your cock, baby… I want to feel you pound it inside of me.”

One of my hands sneaks between us until my fingers are kneading one of her plump breasts and then plucking her hard little nipple.

Fuck, I wish we had more time for this.

But it’s okay. I’ll go back for seconds tonight. And then some.

My hard dick jolts as her words keep playing in my head. A shiver runs through my tensing body. My crown is throbbing, pre-cum is oozing out of me, and I’m sure my nuts have gone past blue by now.

I reach down to fist my cock and give myself a good squeeze to stave off the flow of pre-cum before it turns into something else entirely far too soon for my liking.

Right now, I feel like my fucking brain and heart are going to explode if I don’t plant my seed deep inside her cunt.

“Shit, love! You don’t want for my poor ticker to stop right here and right fucking now, do you?” I groan the words against one of her deliciously pink nipples, and she laughs at my ass, the little tease.

I slide my cock back and forth between her wet lips, torturing us both in the process, and her tinkling laughter turns into a moan when I hit her clit with the ridge of my hardness.

“Please! Please! Please, Jor!”

Fuck, I love it when she begs like this, but she doesn’t really have to plead with me to get on with it since I’m way beyond teasing right now.

Plus, I don’t think we have much time before our son wakes up.

I lower my mouth to hers again, and I fold one of her legs over my back to open her hot cunt up for me at an angle.

“I’m here, baby. I’ll give you what you need.”

Without breaking the connection of our lips, I clasp my rock-hard erection and pump it a couple of times, then I line my cockhead with her tiny, sopping slit –that I’m still amazed can actually take my whole size– and begin to push past her entrance.

My wife moans out loud at the feel of me, and I swiftly cover her mouth with my hand, grinning down at her, my hips coming to a halt.

“Shh, love! You wake Micah, and the fun ends before I can even get inside of you,” I whisper into her ear, going back to barely dipping the crown of my cock into her opening.

She leans her head back again, body shaking in pleasure and trepidation, but not before nipping the palm of my hand; her sassy self’s got to have the last word, no matter what.

I give her another inch of my cock and let her get used to me.

No matter how much we fuck, especially in this position, I have to be careful when I first get inside her and go slow until her pussy walls stretch some around me and she’s got at least half of my length inside of her, or she gets sore afterward, which I loathe to no end even if she tells me it’s not too bad and she can take it.

She rocks upward against my hips, trying to speed things up, and I glower down at her.

“Easy, baby. I’ll let you slam down my cock all you want tonight when you’re on top, but be my good girl now, I don’t want you to get hurt.”

I feel my wife clench like a vise around me at my words.

The little freak. She loves fucking herself hard on my dick every chance she gets. I chuckle, going back to kiss her, and when I feel some give in her walls, I finally thrust all the way inside of her as hard as she wanted me to, capturing her scream with my lips.

I enjoy the feel of her hot tight wetness wrapped snugly all along my dick from tip to base for a moment, my body shaking with the need to fuck, and then I start to hammer heavily into her.

She meets me thrust for thrust, her short baby-blue fingernails digging into the skin of my arms as she uses me to hold herself up as she whimpers my name.

I hiss out with every single clench of her cunt as she milks my cock.

We’re both so primed for this that it feels like this is going to be one of those fucks in which my wife’s going to go off almost on impact. A good thing since I’m not that far behind my own happy conclusion.

I reach between us, smashing the heel of my hand against her mound, two fingers pinching her clit to help her along as I keep fucking her.

“Jordan! I’m… I’m going to… I…”

She throws her head back, escaping my lips, and softly moans my name, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming. “Harder, Jor! Fuck me harder!

I ram my cock hard and deep into her, losing my control fast.

Trudy covers her mouth with the back of her hand, and when that’s not enough to quieten her pleasure, she bites into my shoulder, throwing her arms over my back, thighs clasping around my hips until it’s almost painful; her little teeth into my skin, making my balls jump and turn into two hard boulders.

I feel the telltale signs of both my orgasm and her own in the fiery tingle at my lower back and in the clenching and releasing of her cunt muscles, so I speed up my thrusts even more, hands clutching at her lush thighs while I pommel her as hard as I can dare against the unyielding surface of the marble countertop, wishing we could be in bed right now so I could fuck her pussy even harder.

Trudy starts to go off, and I focus on keeping my thrusts even with the tempo that my finger is strumming against her clit to feed her climax.

"Don't stop, Jordan! Don't! Oh, yes! Yes! Yes!"

She comes with a scorching moan breathed against my shoulder, arms around my neck, feet pushing against my spine to pull me further into her as I keep on fucking her through her orgasm, barely fighting my own.

I wait for her pleasure to reach the highest note, and then I let go, grunting my own bliss into the crook of her neck as my orgasm steals my breath away and saps all my strength from my body, making me growl her name into her skin while my seed jets hotly out of me, spraying her walls.

I drop on her like a stone but move away quickly when I remember I’m too fucking heavy for her. She loves for me to cover her like this while we cuddle after sex. She says it makes her feel protected, like I’m standing between her and the rest of the world, which I really am, but I never linger for more than a minute or two, preferring to turn us around so I’m on the bottom, and she can lie on my chest and breathe freely.

Right now, she’s lying on marble, so we can’t even do that, or I’d really risk crushing her tiny frame under mine with no give at her back.

As soon as I start to get off of her, she grumbles, arms and legs clasping me tighter to keep me from leaving.

I chuckle, kissing her shoulder as I stand up, keeping her plastered to my chest, my cock still inside of her.

I pull my jeans up over my ass the best I can one-handed and then take a seat on one of the breakfast stools, cuddling my wife into my arms, and she sighs against me, nuzzling into my chest.

We stay like that for a couple of minutes, just enjoying our closeness and softly kissing, then my eyes fall on my son’s empty highchair on the other side of the island, and I get on my feet, Trudy still clinging to me like a baby spider monkey.

I withdraw from her snug wet pussy, the both of us moaning as our oversensitive bits slide against each other. I put my cock away and then climb up the stairs with my precious cargo yawning onto my chest.

“We gotta clean up, baby,” I murmur on the shell of her ear before planting a kiss there.

“Mmkay,” she whispers back drowsily, hands caressing my back.

I stop in front of the nursery and softly open the door, we peer inside and see our little boy still fast asleep but starting to move around, a clear sign he’s not gonna stay down for much longer.

We reach our bedroom, and we both throw a longing look at our giant bed. A little nap followed by more sex would be just the thing, but we got a baby to take care of that’s gonna be up any minute now, not to mention way too much stuff to finish readying for his party.

I walk us into the en-suite bathroom and put my wife back on her feet there.

We take a quick shower together, just focusing on cleaning up and trying to keep our hands off each other's bodies the best we can.

A couple of minutes later, I leave her behind in the stall to wash her hair, walking out with a stiffening cock that doesn't seem to understand that fucking is categorically off the menu for the rest of the day.

I dry myself up and put some sweats on, keeping my ears pricked for Micah as I staunchly ignore the vision of perfection that my wife makes in the shower.

Staring at her curves, all wet and by now slathered in one of her skin conditioning products, would be too much for me to handle right now.

I hold out my robe for her when she comes out, and she pulls it on, smiling up at me.

I chuckle down at her. She looks dwarfed in the damn thing, and every time she takes a step wearing it, she trips over the hem, but I can’t make her see reason and wear one of her own frilly fluffy robes instead.

I reach out an arm to steady her when she stumbles.

I hold her against me, shaking my head at her antics, and she shrugs, grinning. Her small arms come around my naked back to hold me closer. “Jordan?”

I kiss the top of her head. “Hmm?”

Trudy pulls away from me so she can look into my eyes. “I wasn’t just saying it before. I’m really going to try and see myself the way you see me from now on.”

I smile down at her. “That’s great, baby. It would be the best present you could ever think of giving me if you really tried to do that.”

She burrows back into my chest, standing on her tiptoes so she can kiss the hollow of my throat. “I love you, Jor. You make me so very happy.”

I squeeze her to me, feeling emotion choking me up for some reason. “I love you too, cupcake. So very much. I never imagined I could be this happy in my life, and every day we spend together, you just blow my mind and make me think up even bigger dreams for us to live together tomorrow.”

“I feel the same way. I couldn’t have said it better,” she whispers, her voice catching as she throws her arms around my neck, hanging from it while I pick her up again.

My lips fall on hers like we haven’t kissed in weeks; the fire between us that’s always on a slow simmer immediately starts boiling over and blazing hard. My tongue begins to fence with hers, the kiss making her moan into my lips as I feel myself stiffen even more for her.

That’s precisely when our baby boy starts to wail, screaming his little bossy head off as he calls for us.

It figures.

The little terror takes after Daddy: he’s demanding with his underlings and doesn’t like to be kept waiting. So, we break the kiss, laughing as we head toward his nursery, my wife’s soft hand as always held firmly in mine.

THE END