Epilogue
HELENA
Reading a super-steamy romance was probably not a good idea, especially when my husband wasn’t home. He was out dropping the kids off at his buddy Chaz’s house.
Chaz and his wife Dakota had become our closest friends, and they had kids, so it worked out perfectly to swap with them every now and then. We watched their kids Friday while they had a date night. And now they were watching ours so we could celebrate our anniversary at the ski lodge—the same place where Isaac and I had our first dinner together almost a decade ago.
I was considering texting Isaac to ask how long he’d be when I heard the familiar sound of my husband’s SUV pulling into the driveway. He was finally home.
I closed the book and stared at the fire, smiling. Yes, he was in for a big surprise when he came up the stairs.
Clomp, clomp, clomp . With each step he took, I got a little wetter. Maybe it wasn’t just the romance novel. Maybe it was knowing we were going to have this house completely to ourselves for a glorious four hours.
What could we do in that time? I’d already gotten in my reading—which I usually had to reserve for the half hour or so before I fell asleep at night—and now my focus would be on quality alone time with my husband until we headed over to the restaurant.
“I’m home!” he called out. “Where are you?”
He didn’t see me over here in front of the fire. He’d see the fireplace, though. A fire hadn’t been going when he left. That, coupled with the beautiful view of our snow-covered backyard leading to the pond, made for a cozy visual as I’d settled in with my book.
“Over here,” I said. “I was just getting some reading done. Why don’t you come and help me?”
He came to a stop, looking at me over the back of the couch. A puzzled frown covered his face.
“Help you read?”
“I was reading a particularly spicy scene,” I said. “It got me a little…well, in need of some help from you.”
Now that frown shifted to a smile. No surprise. In fact, there were few things my husband liked more than how horny I was during my two pregnancies, which had led to our two sons—Matthew, seven, and Weston, four. My sex drive had lightened up a little, but when we did get alone time, all bets were off.
“I have to say, I love when you’re reading romance novels,” he said. “I should buy you more of those books. A whole stack.”
I pointed to my e-reader. “Or just a gift card.”
By then, I heard the creak of the floorboards as he crossed the floor, and all thoughts of my e-reader were forgotten. What we had was better than anything I’d read about in any of those books. It was a solid love, based on trust and mutual attraction.
That was saying a lot, considering we’d started out with a lie. But Isaac had quickly moved past that. He’d had doubts about marrying Daphne before he met me. Not until he saw me in person did he really begin to fall.
My older sister couldn’t be more supportive of our relationship. She’d found a guy not long after Isaac and I met, and they now had a kid of their own. They still lived in Philadelphia, but they visited for a week every summer, and we saw them at Christmas, when we traveled to Philadelphia to spend the holidays with my parents. They finally acknowledged they’d lavished far more attention on my sister when we were kids. These days, they spoiled all their grandchildren—equally.
“Do you want to go to the bedroom?” Isaac asked.
He came around the couch and saw me under the blanket. My yoga pants were on the floor. I’d pulled those off midway through reading an especially steamy scene. I wanted to be fully prepared for my husband.
“No,” I said. “I want you to fuck me right here in front of the fire.”
His jaw clenched at those words, and I saw the fire in his eyes intensify. He loved when I talked dirty, even if it just meant throwing the F-bomb around a lot. It was the only time I cussed, and even that was rare.
I pulled back the soft, cushy throw to reveal I wore only my panties and the sweatshirt I’d had on all morning. He pulled off his own sweatshirt, dropping it to the ground and unfastening his jeans. He had those and his shoes off in seconds and was on the couch, holding himself above me where I lay against the armrest.
“I’ve been thinking about doing this all day, knowing we’d have the place to ourselves,” he said.
“Doing it on the sofa?” I asked.
He just smiled down at me. “On the kitchen table, on random pieces of furniture…anywhere we haven’t been able to do it in a while.”
We’d definitely worn out the bed, the bathroom counter, and the shower over the past seven years. When the kids were younger and we did have time alone, sleeping was more of a priority than sex. But now that the kids were older, neither of us was exhausted all the time like we’d been back then.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Isaac said as his hand dove beneath my sweatshirt, shoving it upward.
I sat up just enough to remove it, throwing it to the floor and grabbing his shoulders to pull him down to kiss me, my legs wrapping around him. We still both wore our underwear, and I had on my sexiest bra. I’d chosen it this morning, knowing what the day would have in store.
His hand slid over my stomach and down, diving beneath the waistband of my panties. I cried out when his fingers made contact with my aching clit. Everything felt so sensitive, thanks to the fictional couple in my book who were going at it against a tree in the middle of the woods.
Isaac groaned when he found out how wet and ready I was for him. But he didn’t continue to touch. Instead, he withdrew his finger and jerked down my panties, moving them past my knees, then settling his face between my thighs.
When his tongue made contact, I arched my back, gripping the armrest behind my head that had served as my pillow for the past half hour. He flicked his tongue across my clit, not letting up even as I screamed his name.
“Oh, God, I’m coming. I’m coming. Don’t stop. Fuck!”
My voice carried throughout the cabin, maybe even outside. I didn’t care. We didn’t have nosy neighbors, and even if we did, they probably made the same noise the first time they got a second without their kids around.
When my noises died down, Isaac pulled back and looked at me. Then he rose and shoved his underwear to his thighs, fisting his big, thick cock. It pointed upward, he was so turned on, and I licked my lips, eager to go down on him.
But not this time. This time, he’d plunge into me, fucking me hard, positioning me in that angle that rubbed my clit in the hopes that I’d come again. Sometimes I did, sometimes I didn’t, and when I didn’t, he’d finish me by licking me again, always putting my satisfaction first.
He stared at me as he positioned his tip at my entrance, and I scooted down a little to give him easier access. Once he was buried deep inside me, our mouths met again in a long, slow, passionate kiss. I’d never doubted once that this was the man for me, and he’d never doubted it either.
We were meant for each other. I’d known it from the first time I saw his picture, and he’d known it the second he saw me rolling that suitcase toward him at the airport. He liked my curves, my drive, and the home I’d made for our children. I built my own freelance design business, which gave me the flexibility to work around the kids’ schedules. Now that they were both in school, though, it was much easier.
As he thrust in and out of me, our kisses became sloppier, and we eventually had to break the kiss altogether. My eyes closed as I gave in to the sensation of his cock moving along my clit with each thrust. I knew he’d be holding out, doing everything he could to wait until I came.
I didn’t even have to touch myself this time. I was still so turned on by the feel of his cock as it thrust in and out. He drove me upward again, toward that same high I’d experienced just seconds ago. This time, I gripped his arms as I came once again, crying out, my cry mingling with his groans as his orgasm overtook him.
We came together, our bodies intertwined, our hearts beating as one. And then finally, he dropped onto me with a quick exhale of air, bracing himself to avoid weighing me down. Eventually, we shifted, his arms going around me as we enjoyed the warmth from the fire.
“Can we just lie here until dinnertime?” he asked.
“Absolutely. Although we could get to the lodge early and enjoy a drink in front of the fire.”
That was one of our favorite things to do on date night. I’d even spent some time in front of that fireplace on my own. I’d drop the kids off at school and grab my laptop from the trunk, then work for a while in the lobby while sipping a to-go latte from the restaurant. Everyone at the lodge knew me now, and they were always happy to see me.
“That sounds like a plan,” he said. “But first, maybe I’ll take a nap.”
I smiled, snuggling deeper against him. “Me too.”
I closed my eyes and gave in to the happy fatigue that had settled over me since my second orgasm. If I never had to leave this couch, I’d be happy. But after dinner, we’d pick up the kids and watch a movie in the theater room downstairs.
We were homebodies. But at this point in my life, I couldn’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.