Epilogue — Home #2
"She looks like she's interrogating him," Cole says.
"She is." I lean into his side. "That's how she flirts."
Cole watches them for a moment.
"Should we be worried?"
I think about Rosa.
Who has held this building together with phone trees and documentation and sheer force of will.
Who photographs the same angles every week because someone has to make sure there's a record of what existed before.
Who has spent years making sure everyone else's story gets told.
"No," I say.
I watch her laugh at something the photographer says.
Real. Unguarded.
The Rosa nobody gets to see very often.
"I think it's her turn," I say.
Cole's arm tightens around me.
Above us the string lights burn warm against the cold.
And across the crowd, Rosa Mendez lifts her camera one more time.
Points it not at the building.
Not at the neighborhood.
At the man standing in front of her.
Takes the shot.
The End.
?? THANK YOU FOR READING
You made it to the end.
Vera came in fighting for her building, her neighbors, her father's medical bills, and forty-two chairs in a bar she never legally owned but loved like it was hers.
Cole came in with a folder, a ninety-day contract, and a plan that had nothing to do with falling in love.
Neither of them got what they came for.
They got something better.
And harder. And real in a way that neither of them knew how to handle until they were already in the middle of it.
If you stayed through all of it — the tension, the betrayal, the bar at closing time, the stairwell, the hospital waiting room, the eighteen-chair wedding in the tenant association office — thank you.
These characters lived in my head for a long time before they made it onto the page.
I hope they stayed with you a little too.
? Quick favor
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*** If you loved Knocked Up by the Billionaire CEO, you'll devour Billionaire CEO.
Same world. Same heat. A brand new obsession.
One night stand with a stranger. On Monday, he's sitting at the head of her boardroom table.
And he remembers everything.
?? Start Billionaire CEO now
They got their ending.
The kind you fight for. The kind you almost lose. The kind that costs everything.
But power like that? It never exists in isolation.
Because somewhere inside the same world… another story is already burning.
I had a one-night stand with a stranger.
On Monday… he's my billionaire boss.
I don't do reckless. I don't lose control.
And I definitely don't end up in a penthouse with a man whose name I don't even know.
But one night. One mistake. One decision I can't take back.
By morning, it's over.
Or it should be.
Because when I walk into the boardroom on Monday, he's there. At the head of the table.
Ronan Vale. My new CEO.
And he remembers everything.
Now I'm reassigned to his inner circle. Traveling with him. Staying in luxury suites where the lines blur fast.
One bed.
Where every look feels like a warning. Where every touch could ruin me.
One leak. One scandal. One wrong move — and my career is gone.
He should keep his distance.
I should walk away.
But the way he looks at me now… like I'm not a mistake, but something he refuses to lose…
might be the most dangerous part of all.
Story Tropes: One night stand Forced proximity Only one bed Age gap Enemies to lovers Forbidden / off-limits Billionaire boss Possessive alpha hero
?? Start Billionaire CEO now
?? BONUS SCENE — That Night
His voice drops to something low and private that has absolutely no business being deployed in a hotel bar.
"Then stop thinking and come with me."
I follow him without hesitation.
We move fast through the hallway.
He pulls me into the bathroom and locks the door immediately.
The space is small and intimate. Cool marble. Soft sconce lighting.
The air is already electric with what we're both thinking.
He doesn't waste a second.
He has me pressed against the wall before I can breathe.
His hard body pins me, and his mouth finds my neck—possessive and demanding.
He's kissing and biting, his teeth scraping my skin, and I feel everything.
My nipples harden instantly against my dress. Aching for his touch.
"God, you taste fucking incredible," he says against my skin, his voice already rough with need.
"I've been thinking about this since the moment you sat down."
"Thinking about your mouth, your body, everything."
My head tips back against the marble.
His mouth is everywhere—my jaw, my throat, my collarbone—leaving heat and marks in its wake.
I'm already soaking, my pussy clenching around nothing, desperate to feel him inside me.
His hands spread across my waist.
He slides them up beneath the hem of my dress, his palms warm and sure against my bare skin.
I can feel my arousal dripping, my thighs slicked with it already.
I grab his jacket because I need something or I'll completely fall apart.
"Tell me what you want," he says against my ear, his voice low and filthy.
"You," I breathe.
"I want your cock inside me."
"I want your mouth on my pussy."
"I want everything."
He growls. A raw, hungry sound.
His hands slide higher, finding my breasts through my dress.
His fingers close around my nipples and he pulls, twisting them gently.
The sensation shoots straight down to my core and I gasp his name, my hips thrusting toward him.
"I already answered that."
"No, you didn't."
His lips drag across the soft skin below my ear. Deliberately slow. Deliberately tormenting.
"Tell me exactly what you want. Use your words."
"Tell me what you want my cock to do to you."
I pull back to look at him.
His dark eyes are blown out with lust. His jaw clenched tight.
The muscles in his chest and shoulders are taut and defined beneath his shirt.
He's barely holding himself back.
"I want your cock inside me," I say, my voice breathless and desperate.
"I want you to fuck me. Hard."
"I want to feel you come inside me."
His expression completely shatters.
He walks me backward until my shoulders hit the wall.
His mouth is on mine with a consuming hunger.
He's kissing me like he's starving, his tongue thrusting into my mouth, and I'm gasping against his lips.
His hands move everywhere.
Sliding up my thighs. Gripping my ass.
Pulling me against him so hard I can feel the rigid length of his cock pressing against my lower belly through his pants.
"You feel what you do to me?" he says against my mouth, his voice rough and almost angry with desire.
"You feel how hard my cock is for you?"
"That's all you. Only you."
Every point of contact is burning and electric.
I stop pretending I have any plan.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he says, low against my mouth, groaning as he kisses me deeper.
One hand is in my hair, controlling my head.
The other slides down the inside of my thigh.
His fingers brush my pussy lips.
I arch toward him with a desperate whimper.
"Dom, please. Please touch me," I beg.
"I know exactly what this needy little pussy needs," he says, his voice rough and certain.
Then his fingers are sliding through my slickness, finding my clit.
He applies direct pressure and starts a slow, relentless rhythm that makes my entire body jolt.
My hips thrust toward his hand involuntarily.
"Oh God, yes, right there," I gasp, my nails clawing at his shoulders.
"That's it," he says, satisfied.
"Let me feel you fall apart on my fingers."
His mouth is relentless and thorough.
He kisses down my throat, my collarbone.
His fingers continue that devastating rhythm on my clit, building me layer by layer until I'm shaking against him.
My fingers are twisted in his hair, my head tipped back against the marble, breathing in desperate pulls.
"Your pussy is soaking," he says against my throat, low and rough, like this pleases him enormously.
"Tell me you want my tongue on you."
"Tell me you want me to eat your pussy."
"Yes." I gasp. "God, yes."
"I want your mouth on me."
He's already dropping to his knees.
He pulls my dress up around my hips in one smooth motion.
He hooks my underwear down my legs and positions himself directly between my thighs.
He looks up at me from the floor—dark eyes, sharp jaw, completely focused—and the intensity of his gaze makes me clench.
"Hold on to something," he says, his voice pure sex.
"You're going to need it."
Then his mouth is on my cunt.
I grip the vanity edge so hard my nails dig into marble.
His tongue works me with incredible skill and absolute focus.
He licks my clit, sucks it gently between his lips, and his tongue flicks across it in a rhythm that's clearly intentional.
He's learning exactly what makes me gasp.
What makes my thighs shake.
What makes my hips rock toward his mouth involuntarily.
"Fuck, you taste incredible," he says against me, the vibration of his voice making me gasp.
"Your pussy is so perfect."
"I could eat you for hours."
I'm moaning openly now, not caring who might hear.
His mouth is relentless, his tongue finding the exact rhythm that makes my entire body tense.
He maintains it without mercy.
My free hand is fisted in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
"Come on my tongue," he demands against my cunt.
"I want to taste you when you come."
"Soak my face with it."
The command tips me completely over.
I shatter with a cry, my whole body seized with pleasure, my thighs trembling around his head.
He works me through every wave, his tongue never stopping, completely unapologetic.
He works me through every wave until I'm completely boneless.
When he finally pulls back and rises to his feet, I'm flushed and shaking.
His face is covered in me—my slickness on his jaw, his chin, his lips.
He looks absolutely wrecked.
"I need to be inside your pussy," he says, his voice hoarse.
"Right now."
"I can't wait anymore."
"Yes." I gasp. "Please."
"Fuck me."