Epilogue
CATFISH
Iwake slowly, at first, thinking the feel of Wren’s mouth on my cock is a dream. But as I open my eyes and take a deep breath, I feel their slick heat around me, sucking on me slow and lazy like they’ve got nowhere to be.
And as my cock gets into the game, getting longer and harder with every suck, I swear I could die happy.
The light’s barely started leaking through the blinds, and the house, our house, is wrapped up in early-morning quiet. I lift my head slightly, propping my hand underneath so I can watch the rhythmic bob of Wren’s head beneath the covers.
They remembered. I told them once, that if they ever wanted to use me this way, I’d be more than happy to wake up to the pleasure of it.
“Fuck,” I mutter groggily as I come to my senses. Pun intended.
I grab the corner of the bedding and toss it back before brushing their hair from their face.
They look up at me with a sleepy smile, lips still wrapped around my cock. They pull off it long enough to murmur, “Morning, River,” then slide right back down to it.
I sigh and grip the sheets with one hand.
It’s messy, and slow, and perfect. Wren’s period started yesterday, and they explained how it makes them feel dysphoric and how they’re unlikely to want sex; I just wanted to know they were comfortable and had all the supplies they needed.
So, this is an unexpected boon.
Wren grips my cock firmly and begins to stroke as they move their mouth. They play with it. Just keeping the very tip inside and using their fist to provide the friction. Then, they take it so far down their throat, they gag.
Everything feels good.
Selfish, even.
I wrap their hair around my fist so I can watch, my hips beginning to move to meet them. Knowing I don’t need to make sure Wren has already come, I lean back and let the thrill of it race through me.
I fucking love the way Wren’s lips look around my cock. But I love the tender way they look up at me even more.
And when I come, it’s with a groan I can’t contain.
Wren swallows as I do, before easing me down. When they’re done, they reach for their water glass next to the bed and take three deep chugs before putting it down and flopping onto my chest.
The sheets tangle around our limbs, the air warm with the scent of sex, and Wren’s breath hitting my throat in puffs. Soft light creeps in through the ranch house window, slanting gold across the messy bed and long stretch of Wren’s firm thighs.
Nothing beats waking up to morning sex with Wren.
Or evening sex.
Or afternoon sex.
We slept harder than we intended. It’s five days since Wren was caught by a ricocheting bullet. They needed stitches—which they hated—but nothing more.
And so far, no one has found the missing federal agent, Dorian Chase. If they had, there would have been a lot of chatter in our small town. Jackal and Shade drive by the abandoned warehouses occasionally, and it’s never been cordoned off.
Eventually, the smell will give him away.
If the FBI knows one of their own is missing, it hasn’t become a newsworthy event.
And Wren has spent their time recuperating and removing every last trace of themself off the internet. With Calista and some of their friends’ help, Wren has been wiped off the Most Wanted and all travel advisory lists.
“You planning to sleep through Christmas?” I ask, rubbing circles on their back.
They crack one eye open and look up at me. “Sucking on you wore me out.”
I chuckle at that. “Good. I liked it. Feel free to do it again.”
The silence that follows isn’t awkward. It’s heavy with contentment. That somehow, in spite of everything, we’ve earned the quiet.
Eventually, I make a move, disentangling myself from Wren’s hold, my limbs reluctant to leave them behind. “Christmas is my favorite holiday, so you better get that firm ass moving before I bite it.”
“Not sure I want to move yet,” they grunt into the pillow, but eventually they roll to the edge of the bed. “I’ll go make coffee while you clean up.”
“Fine.” I take their hand and help them stand. “Go make coffee. But don’t open any presents until I get there.”
They pull one of my Iron Outlaw hoodies over their head and pad barefoot to the kitchen. I watch their ass sway until they disappear down the stairs, and then I deal with cleanup.
I’m gonna need a shower before we collect Mom and then head over to Willa and the kids’ house for Christmas dinner, but for now, I just tug on some jeans and a clean Henley.
When I reach the kitchen, there’s an odd-looking dome-shaped gift on the counter.
“Ta-da!” Wren says as the coffee pot gurgles and bubbles.
“What’s that?”
“Your first gift.” Wren is grinning, like, genuinely smiling, and it does my heart good. The bags are much reduced from beneath their eyes.
I tear the paper off and inside is a cake case. I lift the plastic lid off and—
“Is that red velvet?”
It’s awkwardly frosted, slightly off center, and unmistakably homemade.
“When I said I was going to hang out with Jackal and Shade yesterday, I lied. I snuck into Quinn’s, and with her help, I made it for you.”
I blink. Twice. “You…baked for me?”
They shrug. “Don’t sound so shocked. And don’t get used to it. I’m not a natural, as you can see.”
My heart nearly beats out of my chest. I don’t even care what’s in the gifts Wren placed under the tree two days ago. “You baked?”
Wren hands me a knife and plate. “Are you going to keep repeating that, or do you want to cut a slice and try it?”
I take the knife and cut a slice before putting the plate between us. “This is amazing, sweetheart.”
Wren looks nervous, suddenly. “I hope so. But I apologize in advance if it tastes like crap or makes you sick. Quinn’s was so perfectly round and smoothly iced. This looks like a toddler did it.”
I chuckle at that. “I’m sure it’s gonna taste great.”
I grab a fork out of the drawer and take a bite. It’s sweet, rich, a little messy. “Best damn cake I ever had.”
Wren takes a small forkful and puts it into their mouth like it’s poison. Then, their face changes. “Oh my God. It might look like a train wreck, but it doesn’t taste like one.”
They end up with some of the rich icing on the side of their mouth, and instead of pointing it out, I lean forward and kiss them before licking it off.
“I love it. And I love you,” I say.
“I love you too.”
A knock at the door interrupts us, and I go to open it.
“Merry Christmas,” Grudge says. He’s wearing pressed jeans, smart boots, and a black-and-white plaid jacket. “Sorry to interrupt today, but I wanted to see Wren.”
“Of course. Merry Christmas.” We hug as he walks by me into the hallway.
“Grudge,” Wren says.
“I had a thought last night. An idea. Well, more of a question, and the answer couldn’t wait,” Grudge says.
“I want you to work for the club. Fill the role Vex fills for the Jersey Outlaws. We’ll pay you.
But we’ll also give you protection. We already have Greer helping with medical and Lucy with any legal shit.
” He stops there and shoves his hands into his pockets.
It’s the perfect solution. I look to Wren, who is smiling.
“I’ll do it, on two conditions.”
“If one of them is you want me to promote your boyfriend, the answer is no,” Grudge says with a grin.
Wren shakes their head. “No. You need to turn the club into as profitable, tight, and well-run an organization as the New Jersey Outlaws is. Condition one is you letting me help you with that.”
“What’s condition two?” he asks.
“That Catfish and I will manage and grow the two million from the cartel like a fund. We’ll keep it clean and quiet and donate the annual proceeds to the club.
And in return, the club will provide an additional layer of security here at the house against any cartel retaliations.
Prospects, maybe. It’ll be somewhere between one to two hundred thousand per year. ”
I open my mouth and look at Wren. They’d do that for my club.
Grudge offers Wren his hand, and the two of them shake. “Good doing business with you, Wren.” He slaps my back. “Merry Christmas, you lovebirds.”
When the front door slams, I turn to Wren, speechless. “You’re giving the money that you stole from the cartel for Chase to the club?”
“Only the profit. For our protection. It seems fair.”
I tug Wren to me and kiss them. It was my main lingering worry. That the cartel would still come looking, even though Wren had planted seeds on the dark web revealing Chase as the thief. I kiss them, and they taste like cake.
“Come with me.” I lead Wren into the living room where the large tree I chopped down sits. I grab two presents that I messily wrapped over at Willa’s, where I also left the final part of Wren’s gifts, two puppies, for them to meet later. “You say you can’t bake, I say I can’t wrap.”
Wren chuckles as they pull the hapless tape job open.
Inside is something I’m terrified of giving them. I’ll get over it if they refuse it. I love them too much not to. But it’s an important part of who I am.
Gently, Wren pulls it from the packaging. The sleek leather has been made to their size. And on the back, a symbol. One that says Property of Catfish.
“You don’t have to wear it, if it’s complicated for you,” I say quickly. “I mean, it can be symbolic. But when we go to big meets, it’ll give you a level of safety and security, because it says your someone’s, mine, and not free game. Or not…I mean—”
“It means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Wren asks.
I nod. “It does. Which is why you should open the second gift before you say anything else.”
Wren’s brow furrows with confusion as they put the leather cut down and open the next gift. It’s a box.
When it’s open, Wren looks at it, confused. “A tattoo gun.”
“I know feeling like we look after each other is important to you. So, I wanted you to tattoo me.”
Wren drops the tattoo gun like it just burned them. “What? I don’t know the first thing about tattooing someone.”
“I know. But I do. And I’ll teach you. I don’t want a masterpiece; I just want you to tattoo Property of Wren on my upper thigh. Something between you and me so you’ll always know I see the balance if you wear the cut.”
“You’re serious?”
I nod. “You’re not a thing I truly own. I know that. No one could or should ever cage you like that. But you’re the home I choose every damn day.”
Tears glitter in Wren’s eyes. “You’re gonna make me cry on Christmas.”
“And you made me a red velvet cake,” I say as they slip the leather cut over their shoulders.
I tug Wren into my arms and kiss them, running my hands over the leather they’re wearing.
They pull back from me just an inch with a huge smile on their face “Well, then, I guess it’s only fair.”