Epilogue
Kaden - Five Years Later
“Dad!”
I glance up into the rear-view mirror of my truck, pinpointing the raven black hair of my daughter first. There’s a crown of thick braids over the top of her head, courtesy of her mother’s delicate touch. Her deep brown eyes and soft features are all attributed to Melody’s grace and poise.
It’s like my genes didn’t even try unless it came to our kids’ hair.
“Shh, Posey,” my wife coos gently from the passenger seat as she leans back and checks our son’s car seat. The two-year-old menace is still snoozing evenly, a half-eaten chicken nugget in one hand and his blankie gripped tightly in the fist of his other.
Posey rolls her lips in, catching my gaze in the mirror as she winces. We all know what it means to wake Oliver from his midday nap.
Chaos.
“Sorry,” my daughter whispers.
“What’s up, pumpkin?” I ask quietly.
She sits forward in her booster seat, bouncing excitedly. “Can we go to the creek after we visit with Gigi and Pop?”
I smile. “You know it. We have unfinished business.”
Rock skipping contest. It’s been our tradition since Posey turned three and first discovered that stones can bounce across the surface of water. We do it every time we visit, and I hate to admit it, but the kid is a natural.
I’m currently dead last in terms of her skills, but she’s half Melody. Perfection oozes through their veins.
My wife giggles as she shakes her head. “If you two get too competitive again—”
“Oh, come on!” My daughter and I groan in unison.
“Dad’s just upset he can’t beat me. That’s the only reason it got so messy.” Posey smirks.
I gawk as I stare in the rear-view mirror at the same shit-eating grin I sport, made over into a smaller package with my wife’s beautiful features.
“You’re on,” I nod. “The loser has to sit through Pop talking about stocks.”
My daughter runs her little hands over her face in exasperation. “Anything but that!”
“Then don’t lose,” I snark.
Melody pinches the bridge of her nose as she tries to hide her amusement by keeping her head tucked. Her shoulders shake as we near the gates of our parents’ home.
I pull up the driveway, barely cutting the engine before Mom flies out of the house with a wide smile. Dad stands on the porch, waving a hand at us as he grins.
“Gigi!” Posey shouts as she tosses the back door open and launches herself at her grandmother.
“Pocket full of Poseys!” Mom exclaims, squishing her cheek to our daughters in a warm embrace.
“The holy terror is still sleeping,” Melody whispers fondly as she brushes Oliver’s thick dark hair away from his forehead.
I take her other hand in mine, lifting her knuckles to my lips. “I’ll handle him. Go say hi.”
She smiles, hearts in her eyes, before she leans across the center console and kisses me deeply. My brows rise in surprise at her vigor, and I almost forget where we are.
Until she pulls back, pats my cheek, and ducks out of the passenger seat.
I’m left blinking at the spot where my wife resided before my head whips around to her.
Luscious curves hugged by a white sundress, hips that have widened to birth our beautiful babies, and an ass you could bounce a fucking coin off taunt me from afar.
Melody throws a conniving wink over her shoulder, and I know the second I can get her alone, she’s going to be begging for air.
Is it possible to fall even more in love with every year? She’s given me so much to fight for, to cherish, and to appreciate.
And she’s at the center of it all.
I gingerly shift around to the back door of the truck, opening it as I hold my breath. The moment the sunlight hits my son’s eyes, he’s alert like a god damned sleeper agent.
“Hey, bud,” I say softly, trying to hide my utter horror at waking the beast. This could go one of two ways.
His eyes snap open. Not gradually. Not the normal “confused toddler reboot.”
No.
This is instant consciousness. Like someone in a control room just slammed a big red ACTIVATE CHILD button. For a moment, he just stares at me with wide hazel eyes. I don’t even breathe as I reach for his car seat straps.
“Hi, daddy,” he whispers.
This…is suspicious.
Kids don’t wake up calm unless they’re about to throw up, cry, or, in Oliver’s case, most likely confess to a felony.
“Did you have a good nap?” I ask softly as I take great care not to jostle him too much as I remove his little arms from the car seat’s confines.
He blinks. Then smiles before his head rushes forward and smashes me right in the nose. Pain lances across my bridge as my eyes water and my son giggles.
Yup. He’s definitely all me.
“Come on, tiny terror,” I chuckle past the pain as I lift him and set him down on the driveway.
He takes off in a dead sprint toward Dad, his head tucked as my father holds a hand out to stop Oliver’s advances.
“Nice try, my boy!” Dad rumbles loudly before picking the two-year-old up and spinning him until he’s dizzy and laughing so hard his face is turning red. His eyes shine with pride and love as he waves Posey over to squish her into a tight hug, too.
“I need help rolling meatballs!” Mom announces before she kisses Melody’s cheek.
Posey draws back from her Pop, waving a hand excitedly. “Oh! I want to roll meatballs!”
“Horsey!” Oliver shouts, kicking his dangling legs.
“You want to play horsey?” Dad asks.
The toddler nods quickly.
“Let’s go inside,” Dad says as he motions for us to follow and swings my son onto his hip.
I catch up with my wife, intertwining our fingers as I kiss behind her ear. “We’re finishing what you started in the truck,” I whisper huskily.
She tucks her head bashfully, heat flaring in her eyes.
Fuck, I love her.
Our lives have changed over the last five years, but our connection still burns so bright.
I fall deeper in love with her every day.
As the midday sun slants across her, I take in the beauty of my whole world.
Her golden locks, the upturn of her lips as I guide her up the stairs, and the glow that surrounds her.
She really is a gift—my whole life in the palm of my hands.
Melody breaks away as per our usual protocol. “I’m going to the bathroom.” She announces before heading up the stairs. She throws a sultry look at me over her shoulder before disappearing.
I scratch at the back of my neck as Posey becomes immersed in helping Mom cook. Dad takes Oliver to the living room, groaning as he slowly gets down on his hands and knees to appease the wild toddler. They’re so preoccupied that they don’t notice me slipping away seconds later.
I take the stairs quickly, checking every room to find my wife. She isn’t in the two guest bedrooms, and I’m beginning to think she’s hiding from me before a hand darts out of the bathroom, grabs the collar of my shirt, and yanks me fiercely into the small space.
“Clothes off,” Melody commands as she lifts herself onto the counter of the sink.
Her enthusiasm shunts me into action as I lift my shirt over my head and toss it to the floor. I get my pants unbuckled before she grabs my open fly and hauls me to her.
“No time,” she breathes.
I nod, slamming my lips to hers as I pull my aching cock free. We’re sloppy, our movements unfocused and desperate, as I hook my arms under her knees and pull her to the edge of the sink.
“We’ve got five minutes,” she pants against my lips.
“Give me ten,” I grit as I notch myself at her soaked entrance.
She slaps my chest playfully. “We need to go fast—”
I grab her cheeks with one hand, squishing her lips together to silence her as I slam forward and bury myself deep.
She gasps, her eyes fluttering as her blush paints across her pretty cheeks.
Her chest is flushed with her arousal as my other hand dips past the bust of her dress and pinches her nipple hard enough to make her yelp.
“I’m taking my time with my wife,” I growl before rocking my hips and closing my mouth around her swollen, dusky bud.
I flick with my tongue, strumming her flesh as she tosses her head back and grabs two fistfuls of my hair.
She pulls so hard that pain lances my scalp, and I gently bite down on her peak.
“Fuck!” She whimpers breathlessly.
I switch to her other nipple, leaving a trail of saliva and bruises in my wake as I nip at her. I’m drilling into her so hard that the sound of our skin slapping echoes back at us. Her tight pussy flutters around me with every thrust, and it only drives me to go harder and faster.
I want to watch her come apart for me—shatter beneath my hands as I force her to take even more. I love pushing her to her breaking point.
“Kaden!” She warns as she tightens around me. Her eyes round in fear before her climax grips her, and I feel her thighs quake around me.
I slap a hand over her mouth, shushing her as I bury my face in her hair. “Take it. Fucking take it, baby.”
Her eyes roll as her body jerks. The sounds muffled by my hand are fucking heaven to hear—breathless, ragged, and all mine.
Once she quiets, the last dregs of her intense orgasm oozing through her veins, I let my hand slide to her curls before fisting them tightly and fucking her with abandon. She can only reach for me, her manicured hands begging for purchase as the connected mirror rattles with my heavy movements.
“I want—fuck—I want you to cum in me,” Melody mewls past her panted breaths.
Fuck. Me.
Hearing your wife beg for your cum is enough to tip any sane man over the edge. But I’m not sane. I’m fucking delusional with her.
And my body’s reaction is instant. There is no warning or even a pre-nut sensation.
It catches me off guard how swiftly it happens that I almost forget my hips are still moving.
I slam forward, burying myself deep in her warmth as I flood her core.
A surprised groan squeezes from me, making my head rest back against my shoulders as I ride out the pleasure.
“Huh,” Melody says with amusement as her fingers trail up my chest. “Seems we only needed six minutes…”
My head whips down to her. “You did that on purpose.”
She smirks like a vixen. “It worked, didn’t it?”