Epilogue
AVERY
I wasn’t. I was watching my husband.
Kyle leaned back in his chair, dark sweater sleeves pushed to his elbows, forearms that were criminally distracting in a professional setting. His wedding ring caught the overhead light when he lifted his coffee mug, and something low and insistent twisted in my belly.
Damn hormones.
Six months pregnant, and apparently my body had decided that a random Tuesday afternoon meeting was the perfect time to remind me exactly how impossible my husband was to resist.
I shifted in my seat, telling myself to focus on Stephen. Something about client acquisition. Market expansion. The words blurred around the edges as Kyle’s gaze flicked to me, sharp and knowing. Just for a second. Enough. That corner-of-the-mouth twitch said he knew exactly what I was thinking.
I pressed my thighs together, willed my pulse to slow, and failed spectacularly.
“So that’s where we are,” Stephen concluded, shutting his laptop. “Any questions before we head out?”
Silence. Then Joan, our lead developer, raised her hand. “Just to confirm—Kyle and Avery, you’re both staying behind?”
“Someone has to hold down the fort,” Kyle said smoothly. “You all go represent at the conference. We’ll handle things here.”
A chorus of agreement followed as the team packed up laptops, badges, and tote bags.
Ashworth Consulting had grown from me scribbling notes in my living room to a fifteen-person operation in three years.
I should’ve been glowing with pride. I was—but right now, I was glowing for a completely different reason.
Kyle stood as the last of the team filed out, shaking hands, clapping shoulders. Leadership came effortlessly to him. Winterscape and Ashworth Consulting had merged seamlessly, and he’d transitioned from investor to co-owner like he’d been meant to be here all along.
In business. In everything else.
When the door clicked shut, the quiet was sharp enough to hear my own heartbeat. Kyle turned to me, one eyebrow arched. “You okay? You seemed…distracted.”
“I’m fine,” I said, smoothing the front of my maternity dress. Fitted enough to show the bump, professional enough for a client meeting. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Things.”
I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off him. His eyes dropped to my belly, then back to my face, smoldering. My pulse spiked.
“Actually,” I said, letting the tension thicken, “your office has those new Christmas decorations up, right? The ones the building installed last week?”
He smirked. “It does.”
“I haven’t seen them yet.”
“Haven’t you?”
“Nope.” I closed the distance between us, heart hammering. “I thought maybe you could show me. Give me the full tour.”
Kyle’s hand settled on my waist, thumb brushing over the curve of my bump through the fabric. “A tour. Right now.”
“Right now.”
“Avery.” His voice dropped low, rough, charged. “What are you really asking for?”
I lifted my eyes to him, lashes heavy. “I’m asking you to show me the Christmas decorations in your office, Mr. Ashbrook. Is that a problem?”
“Not even a little.” His fingers intertwined with mine, and he tugged me toward the door. “Come on, Mrs. Ashbrook. Let me show you just how festive my office is.”
We passed the break room and the developer desks, my senses sharpened to the heat between us. The door closed behind us with a soft click, locking out the rest of the world.
The decorations were pretty—white lights along the windows, a small tree in the corner—but I wasn’t looking at them. I was looking at him. At the way he was watching me. And I knew, without a single word, we were thinking the exact same thing.
“So,” he murmured, stepping closer, the air thick around us. “What do you think?”
I traced my hand to his belt. “I think we should test how sturdy your desk is.”
His breath hitched, a sharp, ragged sound that was pure music.
My fingers made quick work of the buckle, the metallic clink stark in the quiet room.
I dragged the zipper down, the sound rough and promising, and pushed his trousers and boxers over his hips.
They fell to his ankles as I sank to my knees.
The first touch of my tongue made his entire body jolt. I licked a slow, teasing line from root to tip before taking him deep into my mouth, my lips stretching to accommodate him. He groaned—a low, guttural sound of pure pleasure—and his hand settled on that Santa hat on my head.
I loved that sound—the one that told me I had obliterated his control. My own pulse was a wild drum in my ears, competing with the soft, wet sounds of my mouth on him and the low, guttural moans he couldn’t suppress.
“God, Avery,” he rasped, his voice strained. “You look so fucking hot in that hat.”
I stared up at him through my lashes, my movements never slowing, taking him deep until he groaned again.
“I want to see you in it,” he panted, “and nothing else. Just the hat.”
A slow smile spread across my lips. I released him with a soft pop and rose on trembling legs. His eyes, dark and heavy with lust, devoured me as I reached for the hem of my dress. I pulled it over my head in one slow, deliberate motion, letting it fall to the plush carpet.
His gaze was a physical caress as I unclasped my bra, letting it join the dress, and then hooked my thumbs into the sides of my panties, sliding them down my hips. I stood before him, completely bare save for the ridiculous red velvet hat, my pregnant belly a smooth curve between us.
His dick twitched, standing proud and eager against his stomach. The raw hunger in his eyes was a potent aphrodisiac.
Then, with a boldness that still surprised me, I turned and hopped up onto his massive oak desk, the cool surface a shock against my heated skin. I crossed my legs, a picture of feigned nonchalance.
“Your turn,” I challenged, my voice husky. “I want to watch you.”
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face as he obeyed, shucking his sweater and shirt in quick, efficient movements.
His chest was a masterpiece of sculpted muscle and dark ink—a testament to the power that lay coiled beneath his skin.
He toed off his shoes, shoved his pants and boxers down his powerful legs, and kicked them aside, never breaking eye contact.
As he stood gloriously naked before me, I let one hand drift up.
I lazily ran a fingertip over one peaked nipple, then the other, watching his jaw tighten.
A low growl rumbled in his chest. Emboldened, I slowly, slowly parted my knees.
I let my hand trail down over the extreme curve of my belly and settled my fingers on my clit.
I closed my eyes, savoring the electric sensation, the building pressure. I knew he was watching, could feel the intensity of his gaze like a brand. I also knew the sight of me touching myself, so exposed and wanting, was making him even harder.
I felt him approach—a shift in the air, a wave of his heat. My eyes popped open just as he reached the desk.
“Here,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. “Let me finish that for you.”
His hands were on my thighs, strong and sure, parting them further as he knelt between them. He didn’t hesitate. He lowered his head, and his tongue found me—a slow, languid stroke that made me cry out. I slapped a hand over my own mouth, muffling the sound.
He chuckled against me, the vibration exquisite, before setting a relentless, devastating rhythm. His tongue was a wicked instrument of pleasure, licking and sucking until I was clutching at his hair, my hips bucking against his face. I was panting, little desperate gasps that I tried to swallow.
The world narrowed to the feel of his mouth on me, the scent of our shared arousal, and the frantic need coiling tight in my core. When I came, it was with a silent, shuddering scream, my body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over me.
I was still floating, boneless and spent, when he stood. He loomed over me, his expression one of pure, male satisfaction. He gripped my hips, pulling me to the very edge of the desk.
“You’re so beautiful when you come,” he breathed, and then he was sliding into me, filling me in one deep, perfect thrust.
A broken moan escaped my lips. He leaned over me, one hand braced on the desk by my head, the other finding my sensitive clit again, his thumb circling with just the right pressure.
“I don’t think I can…” I whimpered, but the words died in my throat.
Watching him above me, his muscular arms and chest corded with the effort of holding back, his powerful body slamming into mine with a controlled, primal rhythm, turned me on all over again. The sight of my hot husband claiming me, the feel of him so deep inside, was too much.
He bent his head, his lips brushing my ear as he moved within me. “That’s it, baby,” he whispered, his voice a dark, sinful promise. “Come for me again. I need to feel you come around my cock.”
His dirty talk, paired with the relentless stimulation of his thumb, sent me spiraling. A second, shocking orgasm ripped through me, sharper and more intense than the first. I buried my face in his shoulder to stifle my cries, my body clamping down around him in violent pulses.
Feeling me climax pushed him over the edge. With a guttural groan that was pure, unadulterated pleasure, he drove into me one last, final time, his own release hot and deep inside me. He shuddered, his big body collapsing over mine for a moment before he caught his weight on his arms.
We stayed like that for a long moment, panting in the quiet office, the only sounds our ragged breathing and the faint hum of the computer.
When Kyle finally pulled out, he helped me sit up gently, brushing a damp strand of hair from my forehead, his eyes soft with something that went deeper than lust.
“Best office tour I’ve ever had,” I whispered, my voice still rough.
He laughed—a low, satisfied sound—and kissed me. “Just wait until I show you the storage closet.”
I swatted his chest, grinning, and let him help me down from the desk. My legs were shaky, and he steadied me with his hands at my waist, his thumbs grazing the curve of my belly.
“We should probably get dressed before someone wanders in,” I said, reaching for my clothes.
“Probably,” he agreed.
But he didn’t move. He just stood there in the glow of the Christmas lights—naked, gorgeous, and looking at me like I was his whole world.
“What?” I asked, tugging my dress over my head.
“I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.
” He stepped closer, smoothing the fabric over my bump.
“Three years ago, you marched into my office to tell me I was wrong about a patent dispute. And now…” He laid his palm against my stomach, right where our baby kicked.
“Now you’re my wife. My business partner. The mother of my child.”
My throat tightened. “When I stood in that conference room at Ultra Bright, terrified you were about to destroy everything I’d built, I had no idea I was meeting the love of my life.”
“Even when I was being an ass?”
“Especially when you were being an ass.” I smiled up at him. “You challenged me. You made me better. And you believed in me when it mattered most.”
Kyle pulled me into his arms, careful of my belly, and pressed a kiss to the top of my head—Santa hat and all. “Best investment I ever made.”
“I’m not an investment, sweetie.”
“No,” he murmured against my hair. “You’re everything.”
We stood there in the soft glow of the Christmas lights, wrapped in each other, and I thought about how far we’d come. From rivals to lovers to partners in every sense. We’d built something real—not just a company, but a life. A family.
Even Reed had come around eventually. After I’d quit Ultra Bright, there’d been tension, but Kyle and I proved that love and business didn’t have to cancel each other out. Now he was one of our closest friends, always joining the penthouse crew for drinks and teasing Kyle about going soft.
Mollie and Hope were still my roommates in spirit, even though I’d moved into the penthouse two years ago. We had weekly dinners, and they were already planning the baby shower with terrifying enthusiasm.
Three years ago, I’d walked into Kyle Ashbrook’s office expecting a fight. Instead, I’d found everything I didn’t even know I was looking for.
And as we stood there beneath the Christmas lights, surrounded by the hum of our shared dreams, I couldn’t imagine a life more perfect than this one.