Epilogue Gabe
I'm sprawled out on the plush hotel couch in our suite, the faint glow of the town's lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
My phone's screen lights up my face as I stare at the latest message from Lena.
My wife. Still can't believe that word fits her now, after today's chaos of vows and tears and that damn near perfect first dance.
The wedding's over, the guests are gone, and our little man Jace is fast asleep in the other room of this fancy-ass suite.
It's just us now, but we're not face-to-face.
Not yet. We're playing this little game of ours, keeping the heat up with texts while she's in the bedroom and I'm out here pretending I've got any patience left.
Her last text reads,
Miss me yet, Husband?
My thumb hovers over the screen, a grin tugging at my lips. Oh, she's good. Real good. I type back quickly, not even thinking too hard about it.
More than you know, Wife. Been thinking about peeling that dress off you all damn day.
I hit send and lean back, loosening the tie I haven't bothered to take off yet.
The image of her in that white gown, all lace and curves, has been burned into my brain since she walked down the aisle.
My chest tightens a little, not from nerves but from the raw need that's been simmering for hours.
I'm not a patient man, never have been, but this sexting thing?
It's torture in the best way. Keeps the anticipation sharp, like a blade's edge.
Her reply pops up almost instantly.
Oh, yeah? What else you been thinking about?
I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head. She's fishing, and I'm more than happy to bite. I type out,
How about I show you instead of tell you? Thinking about your legs wrapped around me. Thinking about the sounds you make when I've got you pinned.
I send it and shift on the couch, already feeling the heat creeping up my neck. This hotel suite is too damn quiet without her voice, without her laugh. I glance toward the bedroom door, half-expecting her to come out right now, but she doesn't. My phone buzzes again.
Keep talking, Gabe. I'm listening. And I'm touching.
Holy hell. My grip tightens on the phone, and I have to take a breath to keep from just storming in there. She's playing dirty, and I'm here for it. I type back,
Where you touching, baby? Tell me everything.
Her response takes a minute, and I'm damn near holding my breath waiting for it. When it comes through, I can practically hear her teasing tone in my head.
Wouldn't you like to know? Why don't you come find out?
That's it. I'm done with this texting bullshit.
I shove my phone into my pocket and stand, rolling my shoulders like I'm gearing up for a fight.
In a way, I am. A fight to keep my cool long enough to get to her without losing it.
I stride across the suite, the carpet soft under my bare feet after I kicked off my dress shoes earlier.
The bedroom door's cracked open, and I push it wider, stepping into the dim light.
Lena's there, sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed, her phone still in one hand.
That white dress is gone, replaced by a silky little thing that barely covers her thighs.
Her dark hair spills over her shoulders, messy from the day, and her eyes lock on mine with a look that could stop a man's heart. She smirks, setting the phone down.
"Took you long enough," she says, voice playful.
I don't answer right away. Just cross the room in a few strides and stop right in front of her, close enough to smell the faint vanilla of her perfume. "You've been messing with me all night. You know that?"
She tilts her head, that smirk widening. "Maybe I like seeing you worked up."
My hands find her hips before I can stop them, pulling her up to stand. Her body presses against mine, warm and soft, and I'm already losing the battle with myself. "You're gonna pay for that," I mutter, my lips brushing her ear.
"Promise?" Her voice is a challenge, and her fingers curl into my shirt, tugging at the already loosened tie.
I don't bother with more words. My mouth crashes into hers, hungry and desperate, and she meets me with just as much fire.
Her hands are everywhere, yanking at my shirt buttons, sliding down my chest. I grip her tighter, backing her up until she hits the wall near the balcony doors.
The city's out there, a blur of lights beyond the glass, but I couldn't care less about the view.
Not when she's gasping against my lips, her nails digging into my shoulders.
I pull back just enough to catch my breath, my forehead against hers. "We're not staying in here," I growl, nodding toward the balcony.
Her eyes widen for a split second, then narrow with mischief. "Out there? You serious?"
"Dead serious." I don't give her a chance to argue, just scoop her up, her legs wrapping around my waist like they belong there.
I push through the balcony door, the cool night air hitting my skin as I step out.
The railing is sturdy, cold metal under my hands as I set her down, pinning her against it.
"Gabe," she breathes, half-laughing, half-moaning as I kiss down her neck. "What if someone sees?"
"Then they get a show." I don't care, and I know she doesn't either, plus this town is dead by this time of night.
Her hands are already working at my belt, fumbling in her rush, and I help her, shoving the fabric out of the way.
My fingers slide under that silky slip of a dress, finding bare skin and heat, and she arches into me with a sound that drives me damn near feral.
"You started this," I mutter against her collarbone, my hands gripping her thighs as I position my cock and enter her in one smooth thrust. "Teasing me with those texts."
She laughs, breathy and wild. "And I'd do it again."
I don't reply, just move with her, the railing hard against my palms as I hold us steady while fucking her.
Her gasps mix with the distant sounds of the town below, and it's all I can do to keep from losing myself too fast. She's everything—every thought, every need, every damn thing I've ever wanted.
And now she's mine, officially, for good.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling hard enough to sting, and I groan into her skin. "Don't stop," she whispers, her voice breaking on the words. "Don't you dare stop."
"Not a chance," I manage, my own voice rough.
We're a mess of heat and urgency, the cool metal of the railing grounding me as everything else spins out of control.
Her body tenses against mine, and I feel it, the way she falls apart, her breath hitching in sharp, desperate waves.
It pulls me right over the edge with her, and for a minute, I can't think, can't do anything but hold on as the world narrows to just us.
When I finally come back to myself, we're both breathing hard, my hands still braced on the railing. Lena's head rests against my shoulder, her chest rising and falling fast. I press a kiss to her temple, my heart still hammering like I've run a marathon.
"Damn," I mutter, half-laughing. "That was…"
"Yeah," she cuts in, lifting her head to meet my eyes. Her smile is lazy, satisfied, but there's a spark there that tells me she's not done. Not by a long shot.
I ease back, helping her stand, though her legs are a little shaky. She smooths down that flimsy dress, her gaze flicking to the night sky before coming back to me. I'm still catching my breath, but the way she's looking at me? It's already got me thinking about what's next.
She steps closer, her hand sliding up my chest, fingers playing with the collar of my half-unbuttoned shirt. Her voice drops, soft but loaded with intent. "Ready for round two, Daddy?"
I freeze for half a second, then a slow grin spreads across my face. Hell yes, I'm ready. Always will be, for her. I pull her in, my hands finding her waist again, and I know this night—this life—is just getting started.