Epilogue
JOELY
Morning wood was the best kind of wood. That’s what my husband said, even before we were married.
It had been a full five years and two kids since we’d said “I do.” One of those kids had just been born. Alaina was only four months old, which meant we had to work in time to get down and dirty in the bedroom. And that was exactly why I pulled back the sheets and stationed myself above his morning wood, taking him in my mouth.
He stayed asleep. Well, his eyes were closed anyway. But his sleep-breathing paused—not necessarily a sign he was awake, but definitely a sign I’d gotten his attention.
Was he dreaming of me? In his dream, was I doing this in the cabana at the beach where we’d spent our honeymoon? I had covered myself with a towel and done exactly this with people all around. They couldn’t see us inside our privacy tent, but knowing people were around had definitely made it more than a little exciting.
He squirmed on my third stroke. This time, I took him deep, touching his balls the way he liked.
Finally, after a couple of minutes, he groaned and stirred. I was definitely getting to him. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked down at me, his sleepy gaze quickly turning into that intense stare I knew so well. That only encouraged me to take him deeper and twist my hand just the way I knew he liked.
He groaned. His eyes closed again, and for a moment, I thought he might let me finish this way.
But no. I should have known better. Within seconds, he reached down and tapped me on the shoulder.
“Get up here,” he said. “I want you to ride me.”
I already had my nightgown off by the time I was on my knees, straddling him. I stared down at him, taking in the heat in his gaze.
“These are going to have to go too, babe,” he said.
I was above him by then, my legs parted, the cool air reaching my slick heat even behind the cotton of my underwear. But he didn’t let me take them off yet. Instead, he slid his hand between my legs, diving beneath the cloth and parting my folds with his fingers.
He groaned again when he felt how wet I was. Then he began moving his finger over my clit in quick, rhythmic strokes, making me close my eyes and gasp.
He didn’t let up, his erection poking my leg as he focused all his efforts on making me come. The faster he moved, the wetter I got. It just felt so damn good. My hips began moving without me even consciously willing it, and I reached up to cup my breasts, pinching the beaded tips between my fingers.
When my orgasm took over my body, I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out. The kids were still asleep. That wouldn’t last much longer, but I wanted us to finish this before I heard the inevitable baby’s cry.
The thought only took me out of the moment briefly. I was able to quickly channel my thoughts back into what was happening. I looked to the right, to that big mirror we’d hung on the wall. Only we knew how much I liked to watch. There, I could see myself above him, naked, my hands on my breasts, teasing myself.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered as waves of heat flooded my body.
Finally, I came down. I let out a deep breath, like I’d just had the workout of my life, before opening my eyes and smiling at my gorgeous husband.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you too. Get down here and kiss me.”
He knew I liked being ordered around. Only in the bedroom, of course. He wouldn’t think of doing it anywhere else—it just wasn’t in his nature. We were true partners.
I worked for a real estate developer here in Seduction Summit as a go-between with the city. My insights into urban planning had helped when we were constantly trying to get things passed through city council—not just here, but in the other areas of North Carolina where my boss had properties. It was a part-time gig that worked well with my three-year-old’s busy schedule and would continue to work as my kids got older.
Our oldest, Grayson, was three and adored by us both. His little sister was already the apple of her dad’s eye. He’d said he wanted a boy, and we’d gotten one. But I don’t think even he realized just how much love he’d have in his heart for a little girl.
My husband slid my panties down as he kissed me, and I helped him maneuver them off. Then I rose above him and sank onto him, remembering the day this had hurt.
There was no pain now. Only pleasure. Especially when he moved his thumb to my clit, stroking it as I rocked on top of him. He didn’t take his eyes off my breasts, admiring them as they bounced with every movement.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder and closed my eyes, my lips parting automatically. I knew I was painting a sexy picture, but only because, in my husband’s eyes, I was beautiful—even a few months after childbirth. He loved every curve and imperfection. And for that reason, I loved all of it too.
I knew the moment I heard his breathing intensify that he wouldn’t last long. But he was holding out. He’d want me to come first.
That was no problem. Once again, I looked over at the mirror and watched myself moving up and down on my sexy lumberjack. I couldn’t see him, but I could see my own chest—the way my breasts jiggled with each thrust.
The sight sent me tumbling over the edge. I let out a long sigh, sucking in a deep breath as the waves overtook me.
I felt his grip tighten on my hips, signaling that he was getting close too. As my walls clenched around him, he began moving faster, thrusting in and out, his pace picking up speed.
He wasn’t quite as successful at keeping quiet when he came. The sound he made was definitely suppressed—a brief grunt, just a shadow of what it would normally be if we didn’t have to worry about noise. I got my usual thrill out of knowing I brought that out in him. That almost animalistic inability to control his response.
When we were both fully sated, I collapsed onto him. I smiled as his arms wrapped around me.
“I’m going to guess one of the kids will start making noise in about ten minutes,” he said. “What’s your guess?”
I thought for a long moment, then said, “I’ll say sooner than that. In fact, three…two…one.”
Two more seconds passed before the sound of a baby’s cry reached us.
“No fair,” he said. “You have mom instinct.”
“You have dad instinct.”
“But mom instinct beats dad instinct every day.”
I wasn’t going to argue with that. I had, after all, been the one who carried our children for nine months.
“Just five more seconds,” I said.
It wasn’t easy staying here when my baby was crying. But having my husband’s arms around me made it well worth it. I counted out the five seconds, then forced myself to get up.
I was already looking forward to getting to my baby. Within seconds, I’d have her in my arms, and it would be well worth leaving this room. But that didn’t make it any easier to go.
I grabbed my robe and turned to face him. “How about some pancakes?”
“That sounds good to me,” he said, hopping out of bed. “I’ll get the griddle warmed up.”
He grabbed his underwear. He never slept in them, but that would probably have to change now that the kids sometimes wandered into our room at night.
I put my hand on the doorknob and turned back for one last look. That was my husband. The love of my life. And I couldn’t believe I’d ever left this town. Seduction Summit was a part of me. Always had been and always would be.
Joely’s roommate Rachel gets her own mountain man in Relentless Mountain Man. See what happens in Book 3 in the Seduction Summit Warriors series.