LUCKY
Thirteen years later
The house smells like pancakes and syrup and the faint motor oil that never quite leaves my skin no matter how many showers I take. I’m leaning against the kitchen island, coffee mug in hand, watching the circus unfold.
Ryder is twelve now, lanky as hell, already taller than Savannah when she’s not in heels.
He’s got his head in the fridge, rummaging for the orange juice like it’s buried treasure.
Riley, our first girl who is eight going on eighteen, is perched on a barstool, braiding her own hair while scrolling on her tablet.
Rowan, her Irish twin, born eleven months later, because Savannah and I apparently have zero chill, is on the floor with Luca who’s four and obsessed with anything that has wheels, pushing a toy truck into her knee over and over.
“Rowan, stop ramming me,” Riley snaps without looking up.
Rowan grins, all teeth and mischief. “It’s a monster truck. It has to ram.”
Luca giggles and joins in, banging his truck against the cabinet door.
Savannah walks in from the hallway, hair still damp from the shower, wearing my old black hoodie that hits her mid-thigh and nothing else. She looks at the scene, sighs like she’s been doing this forever, and heads straight for the coffee pot.
“Morning, chaos gremlins,” she says, pouring herself a mug.
“Morning, Mom!” they chorus, except Luca who just yells “Pancakes!” and bangs his truck harder.
She takes a sip, turns, catches me staring at her legs. Her mouth curves into that slow, knowing smile that still makes my dick twitch after all these years.
“You’re supposed to be helping,” she says, walking over.
“I am helping.” I set my mug down, slide my hands around her waist, pull her back against my chest. “I’m supervising. A very important job.”
She leans into me, head tipping back on my shoulder. “Supervising from behind, huh?”
“Best view in the house.” I kiss the side of her neck, low enough that the kids can’t see. “You smell like my shampoo.”
“Because you keep stealing mine.” She turns in my arms, loops hers around my neck. “Doctor said you’re cleared for everything. No more restrictions. You gonna keep standing there or actually do something about it?”
My hands slide down to grip her ass, squeeze hard. “Kids are right there, baby.”
“They’re distracted.” She grinds against me once, subtle but deliberate. “And you’ve been hard since I walked out in this hoodie.”
I groan low in my throat. “You’re evil.”
“You love it.” She kisses me quick and filthy, tongue flicking mine before she pulls back. “Later. After bedtime. I want you on the kitchen counter. No holding back.”
“Deal.” I smack her ass lightly. “Go wrangle the monsters. I’ll finish the pancakes.”
She winks, turns, and calls out, “Pancakes in five! Hands washed or you starve!”
The kids scatter. Ryder grabs Luca under the arms and hauls him toward the bathroom. The girls race each other down the hall, screaming about who gets the sink first.
Savannah pauses in the doorway, looks back at me. “Love you, biker boy.”
“Love you more, Firecracker.” I flip the next pancake, grinning like an idiot.
Later that night, after baths, stories, one last drink of water, and the inevitable “one more chapter, Dad, pleeeease,” the house finally goes quiet.
Savannah’s in our bed, propped on pillows, wearing nothing but that same hoodie unzipped halfway down her chest. I lock the door, strip down to nothing, crawl over her.
She spreads her legs immediately. “Took you long enough.”
“Had to make sure Ryder wasn’t sneaking comics under his covers again.” I settle between her thighs, notch myself against her. She’s already wet. Always is for me. “You ready for me to wreck you?”
“Been ready since breakfast.” She hooks her legs around my waist. “Fuck me like you mean it, Lucky. Like I’m still yours after all these years.”
I thrust in hard. One stroke. Deep. She gasps, nails digging into my shoulders. I don’t give her time to adjust. I fuck her like I’ve been dying to all day, hard snaps of my hips, bed creaking, her moans muffled against my neck so she doesn’t wake the kids.
“Mine,” I growl against her ear. “This pussy. This body. This life. All fucking mine.”
“Yes…yours…always,” She clenches around me, back arching. “Harder. Make me feel it tomorrow.”
I give it to her. Pound into her until the headboard thumps the wall, until she’s biting my shoulder to keep quiet, until she shatters around me with a choked cry. I follow right after, slamming deep and coming hard, filling her up like I promised.
We stay locked together, panting, her fingers in my hair, my face buried in her neck.
“I can’t believe we’ve been together for thirteen years,” she whispers.
“Best damn ride of my life.”
She kisses my scar. “And we’re just getting started.”
I grin against her skin. “Damn right. Gonna need a bigger house soon.”
She laughs softly. “Or we could just keep practicing.”
I roll my hips once more, still half-hard inside her. “Round two?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
We go again. Slower this time. Deeper. Her whispering filthy promises in my ear, me telling her how she’s still the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, how I’d burn the world down for her, how those four kids asleep down the hall are proof we’re forever.
When we finally crash, she’s curled against my side, ring glinting on her finger in the moonlight, leg thrown over mine like she’s claiming me even in sleep.
I kiss her forehead, pull the blanket higher. Thirteen years down and a lifetime to go. And I wouldn’t trade a single second of the chaos for anything.