Epilogue 1
EPILOGUE 1
Cate
Eighteen months later . . .
The envelope sat on the counter for three days. But it wasn’t addressed to me, so I left it for Shane to open when he returned from Atlanta.
From the bathroom, I hear my name being called. “Babe?”
Speak of the devil.
I spit out the mouthwash and then run down the hall. Shane drops his bag on the floor when he sees me and opens his arms just as I spring into the air. When he catches me, his hold is tight, but his hands are quick to lower to my ass to give it a good squeeze as I attack his lips.
He pulls his mouth from mine, and asks, “Where are the kids?”
“Your parents, aunt, and uncle are watching them over at Poppy’s for a few hours.”
“How many hours?”
“Just enough time to reunite properly.”
He’s already moving us toward the kitchen. “That means I can fuck you anywhere I please.” He sets me on the cold stone counter, the chill causing me to react and goose bumps to cover my legs. My nipples harden, but they’re always on alert with him. The little hussies. I lean back on my hands, making them obvious.
Taking the bait, he teases me by pinching and then caressing them between his fingertips. Resting his hands on either side of me, he leans forward, nudging my chin with the bridge of his nose, then sliding it under my jaw as he takes a deep breath. He whispers, “Is that what you were waiting for, kitty Cat?”
He leans back to catch my eyes, and his gaze dips to the shirt I’m wearing, the one I stole from his closet. Seeing me in his clothes is one of his kinks. His discovery that I’m not wearing anything underneath is one of mine.
“I’ve waited hours for you.”
“The plane was late taking off.” Pulling my shirt over my head, he kisses my neck. He kneads my breasts within seconds of being revealed. “Did I tell you how much I missed you and these incredible tits?”
My breathing shallows, my body catching fire for him. Like it always does. Our passion burns deep. I hold his head to my chest as he teases with his tongue. My breath staggers, but I manage to say, “We hadn’t gotten that far into the greeting.” I tilt my head to the side, needing him to take me in ways that would make the angels blush. “How about you show me how much you missed me instead?”
He does, two times, leaving me lying across our counter, arms wide, wishing the stone was still cold enough to cool my heated body. Leaning over me once more, he kisses my mouth and then bends down to pull his jeans up. His clothes didn’t fully come off before we were fucking like single people after drinks at the bar. We don’t have the freedom to christen every surface like we used to, but we just made up for it.
His gaze slides to my right. “What’s that?”
I know what he sees—the return address. The same envelope has plagued me for days. I never doubt our relationship, and I know when Shane said forever and eternity, he meant it. But what’s in the damn envelope? “It’s addressed to you, not me.”
He doesn’t bother with his shirt, leaving it where I tossed it, but he helps me to my feet and gives me a quick kiss, distracted by the envelope next to my head.
Ripping it open, he walks to the couch and sits down. It’s a few seconds, but man, it feels like hours.
“What is it?” I ask, pulling the T-shirt down over my hips.
His eyes find mine above the legal letter in his hands. “This is the condition you requested at the divorce proceedings.”
I pause at the counter, gripping the edge. “I forgot about that.”
“Obviously, they did too. Until now.” His eyes return to the letterhead of my attorney, the ones who originally typed it up to be kept on file at his lawyer’s office. Every word is seemingly scrutinized by how he studies it.
It was a simple request, but I’m not oblivious to how it would have affected us and changed the course of our relationship back then. That is, if we had not reunited. Thank God, we did. I say, “I couldn’t have predicted how things would turn out.”
Running his hand over his hair, he shakes his head and sighs. “No.” His eyes find mine, “How could we?” He glances at the letter once more, and asks, “Why didn’t you just ask me?”
“We weren’t together, so I thought you’d say no.”
“Have you met me? I could never say no to you, babe.” He stands, returning to me. “Legally, I’m required to do this since you completed the forty-eight hours.”
“You make it sound like a sentence that made me serve time.”
Slipping his arm around my waist, he pushes his hips against my middle. “You’re serving time, alright. A life sentence stuck with me.”
“That’s no punishment. That’s getting away with the crime.” I run my fingers over the growing bulge in his jeans. “What do you say? Are you going to grant me my request, or do I need to contact the attorneys?”
“Trust me, sweetheart, sex in my Ferrari isn’t a punishment. I’m just surprised we haven’t done it in there already.”
I giggle when he throws me over his shoulder and races toward the garage. And for the next two hours, he thoroughly defiles his most prized possession. And it wasn’t the Ferrari.