Epilogue
Opal — Ten Years Later
I pull the oatmeal lace cookies out of the oven. The golden, caramelized scent of sugar and honey hits my nose. My stomach grumbles.
"Can you smell that, little fella?" I say, stroking my pregnant belly.
I'm pretty much about to pop. I cannot wait to meet this little guy.
He's my best friend. The person I've literally been attached to for months and months and months. I’ve been his home for almost nine months. When he finally comes into the world, he’s going to find himself in a home with many kids and all of the love in the world.
My phone rings from inside the pocket of my apron. Oh my goodness. It's my husband.
Grasping my phone to my chest, I head to the back of the house where Julian's office is, closing the door behind me softly, and walk to the sofa in the corner.
I carefully put my phone down and accept the call. A digital image of Julian springs to life.
It’s totally new tech, and my husband got in on the ground floor. It’s not perfect yet, but man it is pretty damn good.
3D pictures to go along with the voice on the other end of the phone. It’s very useful in many different ways. Having 3D phone sex with your husband is one of those very useful ways.
"Don't you have a plane to get on?" I say as I take a seat on the sofa.
"I wanted to squeeze in one last goodbye," he says.
"I hope you're someplace private," I say coyly.
"Very private," he says.
"I'm glad you called," I say, swishing a loose hair from my forehead. "I was just about to eat way too many cookies. All the kids are with their grandparents."
He scrubs a hand up and down his cheek, his beard now a little grayer, the crinkles in the corners of his eyes a little more pronounced.
The fact is, he's even hotter now than he was when I first met him.
It's too bad that the hologram doesn't capture all of those little details. Honestly, it's really no better than the one in Star Wars. The tech has some ways to go.
Julian sits back in his chair, hips rising with an accompanying growl in his chest, the outline of his dick visible in his dress slacks. Even though the tech isn't perfect, I could identify that thing from outer space.
"I wish I was there to eat those cookies with you."
"Me too," I say. "There are a lot of cookies to eat."
"I don't know if I'd be able to try any," he says, "because there are way more important things I'd have to take care of first."
"The cookies would have to wait?" I say, cheeks blushing.
"You fucking know it."
"What's more important than oatmeal lace?" I say. "What would you be doing instead if you were really here right now?"
He scoots forward and his image becomes fuzzy. I get my pregnant ass onto the floor to move the phone closer.
"That's better," I say with a sly little grin as his image reappears.
He reaches out, and even without touching me, I can feel the soft caress of his virtual fingers as he glides them over my thighs.
"If I were really there right now, I'd be on my knees licking between your gorgeous legs.
" His eyes drift to mine, his lips slightly parted like he's just seeing me for the first time.
He looks at me with wonder and awe. I can't believe, after 10 years, how obsessed we still are with each other. Our love is like a force of nature.
He slides his hands up further. I help them along, wishing he really were here, but it's hot to be acting out what he wants to do to me. I slide my fingers higher until my dress finally breaches the apex of my thighs. He lets out a growl as he sees my panties appear.
I shiver, my skin prickling with goosebumps as his phantom touch ignites every nerve ending.
My back arches, seeking more. His hands hover above my covered pussy.
"Wider," he commands. "And take the dress off."
I sweep it over my head and toss it at him. The pixels of his disastrously handsome face warp and vaporize.
"No!" I laugh. "Come back!"
I grab and claw at the space where his hologram once sat before me.
When he comes back into focus, he has a huge grin on his face.
"I wish I could actually hold that dress right now. I'd inhale it like oxygen."
His fingers glide through the air, outlining the shape of my rounded belly. I close my eyes, imagining the weight and heat of his real touch. My skin tingles as he traces the faint stretch marks adorning my sides.
"I love you," he says. "I love everything about you. Every piece. Every part."
I moan softly as his hands roam over my breasts, now fuller and more sensitive than ever before. He ghosts his thumbs over my nipples and I arch into the sensation.
"I wish I were there to worship your body in real life," he whispers as an expression of longing takes over his features.
He sits back in his chair, as if his dick is about to bust through his pants and dupe me into thinking it's real.
His voice takes on a huskier tone. "Now. You're going to do exactly as I say."
A little moan escapes my lips.
I spread my legs farther.
"I think I can do that."
He puts his hand over his cock and rubs it up and down.
"Slide your hand down into your panties." He grits his teeth as I place my hand on my swollen belly, teasingly tracing a line down to the lace band of my panties. I let my hand linger, tracing beneath the curve of my stomach.
"Don't stop," he says, eyes Julian's between my legs. "Keep going."
His voice is sharp, strained.
"Like this?" I say with a little smile on my lips, sliding my hand down farther. I press my fingers to the cleft above my clit, feeling the slickness of my desire in the little tuft of hair I keep down there.
"Exactly like this."
His hologram gets fuzzy and then goes poof! as he disappears.
I groan in frustration.
"It was just getting to the good part!"
I grab my phone and try calling him back, but he doesn't answer.
I throw the phone on the table. Now I'm all hot and bothered and in need of my husband more than ever.
A dampened thud sounds through the house, echoing and bouncing off the walls of this ridiculously beautiful home until it makes its way to me.
Moments later, I hear footsteps. Confident footsteps, the walk of a man who knows this place inside and out.
The door swings open and my husband appears with a half-frenzied, half-lovestruck look on his face.
"What are you doing here??”
He runs over and kneels before me, taking my face in his hands and planting a hot, soul-exploding kiss on my lips.
"But your meeting in New York!" I say as we both come up for air.
"I don't give a fuck about the meeting." He yanks his shirt off, revealing his sculpted, ridiculously sexy chest. "I think you and I both know that I was never intending to get on that airplane."
"But what's going to happen?" I say. "We have another kid on the way.
" I stroke my stomach tenderly. He puts his hand on mine, our fingers intertwined.
He pulls my hand to his lips, kissing me on the inside of my wrist before going back down to stroke the very roomy home of our next baby.
"We need a steady paycheck so we can keep the lights on. "
And trust me, there are a lot of lights.
Five bedrooms' worth. Desk lamps for homework; nightlights for our littlest ones; kindling stoked on cozy nights as we read stories by the fire.
My husband and I have been keeping very busy over the years. It's a good thing I love being pregnant. The hormones are addictive, with the side effects being in a constant state of clawing at my husband and trying to wrap my legs around.
"I sent a proxy in my place. Anyone can run my business. Not everyone can be home to rail that sweet pussy."
Yup. There is it. That's the kind of talk that landed us in this situation in the first place.
"Mmmm." A soft purr ripples through me, igniting every inch of my very soul. "Amen to that."
"And now that I'm here, that pussy is mine to play with." His eyes shoot daggers through me. "All mine. Isn't that right?"
"Yes." I slowly inch my legs apart. He helps them along, his big hands on the insides of my knees. "Show me."
"What do you want me to show you?"
His hands stroke teasing, excruciatingly slow paths up my legs, wandering along my inner thighs, sliding to the outside, thumbs pressed into the edge of my panties.
"Show me that it's yours," I whisper, arching my back. He puts his arm around me back and pulls me closer and closer until my stomach brushes up against his chest.
My husband lets out a deep breath through his nose as his fingers slide into my panties. When his fingertips stroke up against my clit, my head falls back and I let out a long, loud moan.
"All mine," he says, nuzzling into my neck, tracing a line up my throat with his tongue. He nips at my earlobe with his teeth as his fingers keep doing their magic between my legs. My eyelids flutter closed, painted orange and red as I get lost in his touch.
He backs away and scoots me toward him, pressing my thighs open wide so he can bury his face between them.
I'm arching into him and moaning, digging my fingernails into his shoulders and the back of his neck.
My knees quake and I'm swept away into a moment of complete bliss.
A finger teases my opening and slides in, then another.
My husband comes up and kisses my lips. I can taste myself on his skin. I run my fingers up and down the scruff of his short beard, pressing kisses all over his beautiful face.
He scoops me into his arms.
"I'm taking you to the bedroom," he says. "You need your rest. And I'm not letting you leave our room for the next three days."
"But I'm not that tired," I say. "I'm absolutely content to putter around the house like I'd planned."
"I'm not content with you anywhere besides our bed." He presses a scorching hot kiss to my lips, our mouths parting and our tongues doing a languid dance. "And if you're not tired yet, you will be soon."
I throw my arms around him and hold him tight, breathing him in.
I love this man.
And in his arms is where I want to be.
The End
Opal and Mr. Lennox have found their happily ever after.
But…
There can always be more.
And I believe more is more.