Epilogue
Milo
The warm August breeze floating from the open patio door caressed my bare back as I climbed onto the bed and straddled Rowan’s thighs. The cabin was our favorite place for our weekend retreats, and today marked a year since we’d visited it for the first time. Now, it was our second home.
“Are you ready?” I licked into the slit of Rowan’s cock then down to the foreskin piercing that he’d got a month before. Thanks to being a cryptid, Rowan healed within a week. And now I could flick with it with my tongue while teasing his dick hole.
We’d played with his slit with small plugs and short rods that he preferred to longer ones. But this time, he wanted something new. I’d worn knee-high lacy stockings for the occasion.
“I’ve been ready for a long time, baby.” Rowan caressed my knees, tracing the patterns of the lace.
We had lubricant bottles hidden in nooks and crannies around the cabin and our house in Wendigo Hills for quick access, but coconut and olive oils made an appearance from time to time too.
I poured more lube over the head of his cock and spread it with my pinkie. He’d made me come twice today. But a needy Rowan stretched under me, and asking me to stuff his dick would always send more heat to my groin.
“Breathe for me, big guy.” I held his semi-hard dick in one hand and slicked the other, then slid the tip of my pinkie into his hole.
“So good. A tight fit.” Rowan groaned and rocked his hips up gently.
“Just like your cock inside me.” I wriggled my finger in deeper, slowly, patiently until it disappeared into the second knuckle.
With delicate movements, I began stroking him. Up and down with the slick sound of lube against his stretched hole.
Rowan’s low growls were straight from my most erotic dreams. “I love your touch, Milo. And everything about you.”
“I love you too, Rowan. Now come for me.” I fucked gently into his hole while jerking him off.
Rowan’s breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling, his abdomen tensing, his hands tightening on my knees.
“For you.” He threw his head back and released a guttural sound of pleasure.
I pulled my pinkie out like a cork from a bottle, letting his cum shoot up and spill over my hand and his cock. With delicate strokes, I milked the last of his release and leaned down to lick the ridged underside of his dick and around the head.
Rowan’s phone vibrated loudly against the wooden surface of the nightstand. “Bad timing.” He groaned.
“Could have been worse.” I craned my neck to see the screen. “It’s your mom.”
“She can text me.”
“Rowan! That’s rude.” I smacked his chest. “I’ll put her on speaker.”
He covered his eyes with his forearm. “Fine.”
I reached over to tap his phone. “Hi Nina, we both can hear you.”
“Hello my boys.” The hum in the background and choppy connection suggested she was calling from her car.
“Hi Mom,” Rowan said.
“We’re on our way. We’ll be at your house in three hours. I hope it’s okay that we’re coming a day early. We’re staying at the Gryffin, but they didn’t have rooms for tonight.”
“Sorry!” Bob’s voice reached us through the car mic.
Rowan rolled his eyes.
I glared at him. “That’s fine. You can take the guest room. I told you not to book a hotel at all.”
“Nonsense. You two need your privacy,” Nina said.
“We’re at the cabin now, but we’ll drive over. You know where the key is, just in case.” I batted Rowan’s hand wandering up my thigh.
“I do. See you soon!” Nina didn’t wait for us to answer and hung up.
“We’ve gotta go. I’m glad we cleaned the house before we left.” I jumped off the bed, kissed Rowan, and headed for the shower.
Within minutes, we were saying goodbye to the cabin. Until next week.
“I wanna drive.” I held my hand up, and Rowan tossed me the keys.
I caught them awkwardly mid-air and cradled them to my chest so as not to drop them. Some things never changed. Even if I played one-on-one basketball with Rowan at the Wendigo Falls’ public court, I couldn’t catch anything properly.
Then again, other things were different.
I slid into the driver’s seat with not a flinch in sight and drove us toward our home.
Days after the bake-off, I’d gone to Rowan’s condo in Chicago to help him pack.
The ultramodern space seemed cold and unlike the Rowan I knew.
The underground garage held three sports cars that he’d amassed over the years.
At first, I’d panicked at the sight of cars made for fast, reckless driving, but I kept reminding myself that a drunk driver had killed my parents, not a car.
He’d kept one, a silver two-seater that he had to fold himself in half to get into. Apparently, the color reminded him of my eyes. And Ethel loved it when I took her shopping in it.
This time it was my phone ringing incessantly.
I picked it up through the car’s speakers.
“Hi Sophia. How’s the best manager in the world doing?
” I had learned a lesson that I couldn’t do everything by myself, and had asked Sophia to be the manager at Cryptid Cafe.
She’d proven to be the perfect person for the job when I’d needed her over and over.
Now, I could direct my energy toward upgrading the cafe’s menu, organizing more evening events in it, and overseeing the renovations.
After the enormous success of the bake-off, we’d become a local attraction and raised enough funds to fix the kitchen, roof, and update the main area.
“Shut up. No wonder you were constantly running around. Even with more staff, it’s still crazy. But I get it. I love it too.” She sighed. “I’m calling to let you know that the new menu cards arrived and the banner for your birthday.”
I frowned, but kept my eyes on the road. “What banner?”
“That’s on me,” Rowan said with zero coyness in his voice. “Since you decided to throw the party at the cafe, I figured we’ll need proper decorations.”
“It’s really cute, Milo, you’ll see.” Sophia cursed under her breath. “Shit. I gotta go.” The line went dead.
Grinning, I reached for Rowan’s hand and put it on my knee where it belonged when I was driving. “Thank you.”
Yes, I was throwing a party this weekend.
For my twenty-sixth birthday. At first, I planned for only Rowan, Ethel, and Sophia to be there, but once Nina and Bob got wind of it, my invitations extended to Rowan’s family.
My mindset about the day had evolved since meeting Rowan, and only a year into our relationship, I had his parents and three siblings driving over to join in on the celebration.
“Are you happy about it? We can still cancel.”
“It will be great. I have people to celebrate with.” I patted Rowan’s hand. “Tell me about the progress on the adoption center.”
Rowan’s partnership with Troy was a piece of creative genius. They’d been helping small businesses get loans, but after the bake-off, struggling companies had asked them to organize events like that one for them. The newest one was for Wendigo Hills’ animal shelter with an adoption campaign.
“The area looks super cosy, you’d love it.
They have only eight dogs so far and twelve cats in separate areas of the building.
The dogs have enough backyard to run and the staff is exceptionally nice,” Rowan said with palpable excitement.
Every morning he went to work with a smile on his face and returned with heartfelt stories.
Quitting that wretched job and taking a risk had turned out to be the right decision for him.
“That sounds awesome. I’ll have to go see it with you and play with all the dogs.”
“Definitely. And I didn’t tell you the best part—” Rowan continued talking, and his description gave me warm fuzzies.
Should we get a dog? The animal would love the cabin and our backyard too. I’d never had a pet before, but even with no experience, I believed Rowan and I could create a great home for a puppy. I may have mentioned that to Rowan before, but that would be a conversation for another day.
Once at home, we settled Rowan’s parents in the guest room and spent hours teaching them Canasta. Between the laughter and pretend-cheating, I had to excuse myself to wash my face with cold water to stop the tears. It was a family evening.
And I was included.
The following day, I had an important meeting booked. With a tattoo artist.
Last month when we’d gone to the parlor, Rowan had his foreskin pierced with a shiny hoop. He’d fallen in love with my nipple piercings and wanted some steel for himself. I’d thought he was the hottest man I’ve ever seen. Then he’d got pierced, and I hyperventilated from horniness.
While at the studio, I’d admired the framed art that decorated every wall and cad come up with an idea for a tattoo.
Now, I was holding Rowan’s hand and vibrating from giddiness as we entered the parlor.
The bell above the door chimed, and the green-haired, tattooed leszy lifted his head from the sketch he was working on. “Hi Milo. Are you ready?” The tree-shifter with branch-like antlers was about my age but had tattoos all over his body. He was art incarnate.
“Hi, Jacek. Can I see the design again?”
He retrieved a sheet from a folder and handed it to me. “You don’t want to add anything to it?”
“Nope. The first one can be simple.”
“First one?” Rowan lifted his bushy eyebrows.
I nodded. “I heard that once I get one, I’ll want more.”
“I can confirm,” Jacek added. “Now hop on the chair.”
I did, and after some buzzing, being stabbed with a bunch of needles, and squeezing Rowan’s fingers until they turned white, I had a gorgeous tattoo above my ankle.
“You never asked what it means,” I said to Jacek when he finished.
“If it’s not a hate symbol, I’ll tattoo it. It might be something personal, and that’s none of my business. Besides, from now on, everyone and their mom will ask you about the meaning of it.”
“Well, I want to tell you.” I moved my foot to look at my ankle. Above it, under a layer of healing goo, a number in beautiful writing was etched: 1608. “It’s Rowan’s hotel room. Where he stayed last year when we met.”