Epilogue
NOT GOING TO lie. Waking up with Colin’s head between my legs is never going to get old.
The late morning sun sends buttery strips of light into the room as I reach down to grip onto his hair.
He pushes my sleep shirt up my belly and I move the covers down.
He meets my gaze through heavy locks of hair falling across his forehead, his mischievous eyes a deep green.
Yeah. Never getting old.
“Good morning.” He gives a devilish grin and follows that with a leisurely lick up my center.
I moan, sinking into the mattress and opening my legs wide. “Is this what I get when you win championships?”
He pauses to answer. “This is what you get when you don’t wear panties to bed.” Another lick. “But winning championships doesn’t hurt.” Another caress against me. “Now shut up and let me make you come.”
I do. And he does. Then he kisses his way up my body, pulling the shirt off as he goes and sliding into me as I raise my knees.
He swallows my moan with his mouth, the taste of me on his tongue as my body takes him in. We move slowly, the gift of an unhurried morning.
“More,” I whisper, pushing him to roll over. He moves to his back, his hands coasting up my thighs as I sink onto him.
The groan he makes is deliciously low, vibrating against the palm I’ve laid on his chest. “Marry me.”
I swirl my hips, rising up and lowering, his hands gripping my hips to help. “We’re already married.”
“Marry me again.” He moves a hand to where we’re joined, finding my clit and pressing. “A big ceremony. The whole thing.”
I whimper softly, my movements speeding up.
He curses and throws his head back, exposing his neck. I lean down, licking it and tasting the salt of him. When my mouth claims his, he gives a plaintive sigh. I move faster.
Later that afternoon, we’re nearly ready for the celebratory picnic. I’ve changed clothes once already, but the July heat is at its pinnacle and has no mercy.
Colin looks around the backyard. “I can’t wait to move,” he grumbles.
I knock into him and grin, squinting as the bright sun tries to blind me behind his head. “Quit being a sourpuss.”
“This yard gives me PTSD,” he says, but he’s grinning right back at me.
“From last year’s team picnic?”
“Is that what you call it?” he asks. “Because I call it the day that my wife showed up and made me regret all my life choices because she was so pretty and so very, very angry with me.” He follows that with a kiss to my forehead, then a smack to my bottom.
I squeal and smack his.
“Enough of that,” comes Ollie’s voice behind me.
“Never,” Colin replies, sliding his hand into the back pocket of my linen shorts before leaning in for a kiss, which I give happily. He hums. “Never hiding my love for you, Sunshine.”
“Can you at least help with the beer?” Ollie asks.
Colin laughs. “Duty calls.”
I watch him leave with a smile on my face.
The team seemed to hit a whole new level after we trounced the Lights in Vegas.
They were unstoppable. I took on my new role as head PT, Kari stepped into the head PR role like she’d been doing it the whole time – which she was – and Colin and the team won match after match, including the championship.
Scott was only too happy to sign Colin to a longer contract with the team.
The only wrinkle, if you can call it that, was our mums’ collective reaction to our getting married and depriving them of a full-on wedding.
My mum has made me promise we’ll have a giant celebration when we fly to Melbourne in a couple of weeks.
The contented smile I’d had grows bigger when Elodie walks up rubbing her stomach. She’s still in her first trimester, and even though she, Ansel and Rosie are thrilled at the new development, this little one is giving Elodie a time of it from the jump. “Hey, Mummy! How are you feeling?”
Elodie makes a face. “Nauseous.”
“Come with me. Let’s get you out of the heat and put a cold soda in your hand.”
Elodie gives a tired smile. “Sounds good. And chips. Do you have Ruffles? Maybe some sour cream dip?”
I laugh. “We do. Ansel made sure we had that hidden away for you.”
Inside the kitchen, I pull out the chips and dip, nearly yelping as Elodie yanks them from me. “Hungry?”
She rips open the bag and shoves a chip in her mouth, shooting me a look that’s half apology and half feral. “Yes. No. I don’t even know.” Another chip, this one covered in dip, gets shoved in and she gives a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”
I slide the ginger-flavored soda across the table with two fingers, a little worried she’s going to eat my hand next. “You’re welcome.”
Kari pokes her head in. “There you are!” She’s in a dark purple linen shift that falls to her knees, her short hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail to reveal the piercings that are usually covered. Her right ear is covered in gold studs and hoops, her left with a mere three pieces.
Elodie raises a chip in salute before popping it in her mouth.
“How’s set-up going out there?”
Kari shrugs. “No idea. The second I realized you two weren’t out there, I made a beeline for the kitchen. It’s basically the only place Elodie can be found these days.”
Elodie lifts her middle finger to Kari.
“Watch out, Kari, she’s a wild woman right now,” I laugh.
Kari gives a wry smile. “Good. She deserves to be.”
I tilt my head at the odd response. “What’s going on?”
Kari bites her lip. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” Elodie pronounces, a bit of chip flying out of her mouth.
“First she’s giving you the bird, now she’s cussing?” I ask incredulously. “What is going on here?”
Kari swallows, her eyes landing anywhere but on mine.
“Oh my gosh,” Elodie says, a wide smile on her face. “You got laid!”
Deep spots of crimson bloom high on Kari’s cheekbones as she presses her lips together.
“Oh, this is good,” I croon, propping my chin in my hand and relaxing in the chair. “Do tell.”
“I’ll do no such thing,” Kari says.
Elodie and I laugh. Before I can press her, Colin’s voice floats through the house.
“Hey, Sunshine? Can I get your help?”
“Coming!” I yell back. Then I point at Kari. “You’re gonna break eventually. And I, for one, can’t wait to be here when it happens.”
The humidity hits me like a punch when I walk back outside. July in this city is close to intolerable. The backyard is filling up, all the players and any significant others and kids milling around as Ollie and Ansel get the grill going.
“Help Carter with the punch?” Colin asks, nodding in the direction of our star left winger.
I smirk and dunk my hand into the ice to pull out a beer. “Sure thing, Coach.”
Colin’s eyes darken with heat as I make my way to Carter, who stands behind the tiki bar in the corner of the backyard staring morosely at the ingredients. He looks up as I approach.
“Why is there no booze to put in this punch?”
I raise an eyebrow as I twist the cap off and hand it to him. “Carter. You’ve heard how Coach and I met, right?”
He takes a swig of the beer and nods.
“And you’ve heard about my one-drink rule.”
He nods again.
“And you’ve noticed that Elodie is pregnant.”
With a sigh and a pull on his beer, he nods a third time.
“And all the kids running around.”
He gives up. “Okay, okay, I get it. No booze in the punch.” Then he flashes me a flirty smile. “Can I make a separate bowl? Pretty please?”
I laugh. “You may. I’ll grab something for it.”
As I turn around, Lennox steps through the gate and scans the backyard, his expression hopeful.
But he must not find what – or who – he’s looking for, because his brows crash together and hope drains out of his face.
It changes again a second later, morphing into the standard happy-go-lucky look I’m used to, and I see why: Ansel strides toward him, arms extended for hug.
I hum thoughtfully, making my way back to the cool of the house.
“Get over here.” Colin growls and pulls me to him the second I step inside.
I squeal and laugh, then gasp as his hand moves down the front of my shorts. “Colin,” I breathe.
He walks me to the base of the stairs, his fingers dipping into my panties. “Can’t concentrate out there,” he murmurs against my neck.
“Poor baby,” I tease, but my laugh turns to a whimper as his fingers make contact.
“Upstairs. I’ll be fast.”
I grin against his lips. “What if I don’t want you to be fast?”
He withdraws his hand, but before I can protest, he picks me up. I hook my ankles behind his back as he jogs us up the stairs. He doesn’t break stride when he reaches the top, shoes squeaking on the parquet in his haste to get us to the bedroom.
We breach the threshold and he drops me, slamming the door shut as I push my shorts and underwear down. He unbuckles his belt and thumbs open his khaki shorts, dropping them and his boxers and stepping out of them in two strides.
His mouth crashes onto mine as his fingers find their way back inside me. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”
My only answer is to grab his cock and squeeze.
He growls, lifting me again and walking me to the wall. He pushes into me as I moan, the cold of the wall a biting balm against my overheated skin. Again and again he thrusts, our tongues and teeth clashing as he fucks me. Warmth pools and tightens quickly, and I scramble for purchase against him.
“Don’t you stop,” I rasp.
“Never,” he promises, his hips pistoning up and up and up.
We crest together with quiet moans, our kisses growing tender as we come down from the intensity we’d swirled into. When he releases me and my feet hit the floor, he gives me one last kiss before going to the bathroom to run warm water for a washcloth.
We make quick work of cleaning up and dressing. As he fastens his belt, he meets my eyes. “Think they missed us?”
I re-do my ponytail. “If they did, I don’t care.”
He closes the distance between us, wrapping one strong arm around me and tracing my cheek with his free hand. “I love you so much, Sam.”
I cup his face, his coarse beard a familiar softness beneath my palms. “Good. Because you’re stuck with me.”
He kisses my forehead, then nose, then finally my lips. When he pulls away, he plucks his quarter from his pocket. “Heads we stay up here. Tails we go back down.”
I laugh as he flips the coin, catches and reveals it.
Heads.
I look into those endless eyes and grin. “Best three out of five.”
Thank you for reading The No Try Zone!