Epilogue
THANKSGIVING
“ W e’re going to be late,” Jude moaned.
Brynn lifted her head to peer, squinty-eyed, at the clock on the bedside table. Without her glasses, the numbers were a glowing blur. “We have time,” she decided and went back to lapping at his balls.
“We told them we’d be there by one,” he protested.
She noticed he made no effort to move away from her tongue. “So text Tuck and tell him we’re running late.”
“No way.” He shifted his legs apart and drew his knees back, giving her more room. “He’ll know why.”
“I don’t care.” She sunk her teeth into his thigh, delighting in his shiver. “After tomorrow you’re on the road for two weeks. I’m getting mine while I can.”
“Getting yours?” he repeated, laughing, then let out a grunt when she slipped her lubed thumb into his ass. “Fuck, I love it when you do that.”
“I know,” she said smugly, and with her thumb working his prostate, slid her mouth down his shaft.
She’d been teasing him for a while so it didn’t take long for him to come, grunting and groaning as he spurted into her mouth, hips bucking so hard he almost dislodged her hand. When he finally collapsed, panting, on the mattress, she slipped her thumb free, gave his still pulsing penis a final, loving lick, and crawled up to lay beside him.
“We’re going to be late,” she announced.
He opened one eye to glare at her. “You think you’re funny.”
“I’m hilarious,” she told him, and with a smacking kiss on the cheek, rolled out of bed. “I’m going to take a shower.”
His response was a grunt.
“And see if the shower wand here is as good as the one in your place.”
“You’re going to masturbate with a hotel shower wand?” he demanded, lifting his head. “Do you know how many other people have probably done that in there?”
She stopped halfway to the bath, wrinkling her nose. “Oh. Ew.”
“Damn right, ew.” He shook his head. “What’s wrong with you, woman?”
“I’m horny,” she complained, putting some pout into her voice.
“As soon as the feeling in my legs comes back, I’ll eat you out.”
“Why do you need your legs to eat me out?” she wondered.
He considered that. “You’re right, I don’t. Get up here.”
She was already climbing back onto the bed, swinging a leg over to straddle his face. She reached up to grab the headboard, then realized it was fastened to the wall and there was nothing to grab. “Wait, there’s nothing for me to hang on to.”
“Tough,” he said and dragged her down.
She was worked up enough from blowing him that it didn’t take him long to get her there, his trademark thumb-and-tongue-fuck combined with the mustache action on her clit doing the job quickly and efficiently. When she was a panting, wheezing puddle on the bed beside him, he sat up. “Okay, we’re really late now.”
“I know.” She still couldn’t see the clock, but outside the hotel window, the winter sun was high in the sky. She flung out a hand. “Hand me my phone and I’ll text Tuck.”
“What are you going to tell him?”
“That we overslept?”
“Like he won’t see right through that,” Jude muttered and grabbed his phone.
“What are you telling him?” she asked.
“That I was busy going down on you.” He looked up from the screen. “He’ll know anyway.”
She snickered. “You’re not telling him I was blowing you with my thumb up your butt?”
He paused, then continued typing. “What the hell. Maybe it’ll make him jealous.”
She rolled onto her side, giggling. “Why? Does Esme not like doing that?”
“I don’t know, but I bet he’ll tell us.” He put the phone on the bedside table and tugged her off the bed. “Come on. We need a shower.”
“There’s no orgy today, right?” she asked, letting herself be dragged into the bath. “It’s just dinner?”
“Just dinner,” he confirmed, reaching into the shower to turn on the water. “The orgy was a one-time-only deal.”
“Good.” With the water running hot, she stepped into it. “I didn’t bring any orgy-appropriate clothing.”
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “You’re not nervous, are you?”
“Not really.” She turned to face him, tipping her head back to wet her hair. “I like your friends.”
He smiled. “They like you, too. They especially like that you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
“I like that, too,” she said smugly.
“I know.” He dropped a gentle kiss on her nose. “How’s this doing? All healed?”
“Just about.” She’d gotten the septum piercing the night before he’d left for training camp in September. The process had fascinated him—and turned him on so much that he’d almost been late to meet the team bus the next morning.
“So fucking sexy,” he murmured, giving the gold and diamond jewelry he’d picked out a gentle flick.
“You’re such a slut for my piercings,” she teased.
“I’m a slut for you,” he corrected and lowered his head for a lingering kiss.
When he lifted his head, she broached the subject they’d both been avoiding. “Congratulate me. I finally unpacked my last box.”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled.
“Jude,” she chided gently.
“Sorry. Congratulations.”
He sounded so miserable she had to bite back a smile. “Thank you.”
He sighed. “I know you need your own place, and I’m glad you love it. I just miss you. And I hate that it’s so far away.”
She rolled her eyes at the familiar complaint. “It’s a fifteen-minute walk.”
“It used to be fifteen seconds,” he reminded her. “And I didn’t have to put pants on.”
“That didn’t stop you from coming over to help me christen my new bed.”
He smiled fondly at the memory. “That was a fun night. Your neighbors were very understanding.”
“They were understanding after we promised to move the bed to the other wall, and you gave them free tickets with rink-side seats.”
“You’re always telling me to cultivate good fan relations.”
“Hmm.” She looped her arms around his neck. “I love you, Jude.”
“You’re saying that to distract me from the fact that you moved out.”
“Is it working?”
His arms tightened. “Maybe. What else you got?”
Amused, she reached up to brush her fingers over his mustache, wet from her and the shower. “You need a trim.”
“Okay, that’ll work,” he decided, and she laughed. “Did you bring your scissors?”
“In my makeup bag,” she confirmed. “I’ll do it tonight.”
“I’m going to be too full of turkey to fuck tonight,” he complained.
“We don’t have to fuck after,” she pointed out.
“Then what’s the point?”
“I’ll do it in the morning,” she promised, loving the banter. Loving him.
“We’re driving to your parents in the morning,” he reminded her.
“All the more reason to fuck first.”
He dipped his head to nibble at her shoulder. “Why wait when we could do it now?”
“We don’t have time,” she chided even as she rubbed her belly against his growing erection. “We’re already late.”
“What’s ten more minutes?” he mumbled against her neck.
She snorted. “Ten minutes, right.”
“I can do it in ten,” he said, lifting his head to grin at her. “If we skip the mustache trim.”
“I thought the mustache trim was the point?”
“No, it’s the foreplay,” he corrected, waggling his eyebrows. “And I don’t need it.”
Neither did she. “Okay, but hurry up. I still have to wash my hair.”
“Here.” He grabbed the shampoo off the shelf and shoved it at her. “Multi-task.”
Ten minutes turned into twenty, even with the multi-tasking. Still, they managed to make it to Tuck and Esme’s house only thirty minutes behind schedule, a miracle that Brynn attributed to Jude’s ability to get her off quickly and her ability to do her makeup in a moving car.
Any nerves Brynn had about spending the holiday with Jude’s friends were immediately eased by Esme’s warm welcome and Tuck’s entirely inappropriate teasing about the reason they were late. As it turned out, they weren’t the only couple that showed up late, evidently for the same reasons, so there was plenty of teasing to go around.
She played with the puppy, a new addition to Tuck and Esme’s household, laughing when Tuck relayed the story of how, thanks to the dog, he’d ended up spending Thanksgiving morning in search of an emergency replacement turkey. It made her miss Tilly.
She chatted with Jude’s friends, all of whom had brought a date with them this year. She loved hearing how Spence and Maddie—who was technically his stepsister—had met, and though Spence pretended to be annoyed at the retelling, she could see the humor and affection in his dark eyes when he looked at Maddie.
Evan and Colin’s story was just as fascinating, their romance coming after a decade of friendship. She hadn’t known that last year’s orgy had been the catalyst for their relationship changing, and made a note to ask Jude more about that later.
They gathered around Tuck and Esme’s dining room table—with a card table added at the end to handle the overflow—and ate turkey and drank wine and laughed at the stories being thrown around. Tuck, Esme, Colin, Evan, and Spence had all known each other since college, with Jude joining the group only after he’d met Tuck and Esme at the swingers club. But they integrated Maddie and Brynn into the group without hesitation, and it felt as though they’d all known each other all along.
At the end of the meal, when everyone was pushed back from the table and groaning that they couldn’t possibly eat another bite, Tuck got to his feet and raised a glass. “I’d like to propose a toast.”
“Tuck, behave,” Esme warned from her seat beside him.
He patted her shoulder. “Relax, babe. I was just going to say that though this year’s Thanksgiving is much different than last year’s?—”
A chorus of groans, boos, and laughter erupted around the table, and Esme, blushing furiously, grabbed her fork from the table and tried to jab her husband in the thigh.
Laughing, Tuck managed to sidestep and avoid being stabbed. “I was just going to say that this Thanksgiving is better!”
“Sure you were,” Esme muttered and tried to stab him again, but he stepped out of reach. “Spence, smack him for me, will you?”
“Happy to,” Spence growled and reached out with one long arm to smack Tuck in the head.
“Last Thanksgiving was great,” Jude put in, and everyone turned to look at him. “One for the books. But I’ve got to agree with Tuck.”
He looked at Brynn, sitting next to him, and took her hand. “This one is better.”
“I’m with Jude and Tuck,” Colin chimed in, smiling at Evan.
“Same,” Spence rumbled, winking at Maddie across the table. Then he looked at Esme. “No offense.”
“None taken,” she said, beaming. “I think this year is better, too.”
“Well, now I’m offended,” Evan complained, grinning.
“Oh, shut up.” Esme lifted her glass. “To this Thanksgiving.”
“And all the ones to come,” Jude murmured, lifting his glass.
“I’ll drink to that,” Tuck boomed.
And they all lived happily ever after.
The End