Epilogue
Beau- one year later
Sunshine hits the back of my neck, drying my freshly showered hair, as I walk out of the players’ workout room and onto the road lined with old brick buildings.
Adrenaline is still pumping through me after Coach’s pep talk.
We got knocked out in the first round last year, but we’ve got some new players, and we’re all feeling the buzz of a cohesive team. This season is gonna be a fun one.
“See ya, brother.” Marcus and I bump fists as he heads to his car and I wave at the other guys who stream out after me.
I walk the few blocks to a specialty book binder I found through social media. A bell jingles when I enter, and an old bearded Black man with a shiny head and a neat white goatee stands.
“There you are, Mr. Bradley. I got your goods right here,” he says, looking pleased as he slides a tissue-paper-wrapped notebook toward me.
I pick it up and admire Cyn’s name printed in rich, gold embossing in the upper left corner of the tan leather.
I flip through it. The pages are a thick antique-parchment color.
Her favorite inky black pens will glide deliciously across them.
“This is perfect. Thank you, sir.” I hand it back to him and watch him wrap it up neatly in butcher paper stamped with the shop’s logo. He ties it off neatly with twine and hands it back to me.
“Is it a special occasion? Anniversary?” he asks politely as he rings me up.
I think of Cyn waking up screaming in a cold sweat six months ago.
Everything had been going so well until then.
We both thought that Peter being gone would be the end of it, but I guess neither of us really understood how trauma works.
When the night terrors didn’t stop, we put the wedding planning on hold, and she decided it was time to finally start therapy. I’d done the same in solidarity.
Weekly sessions seem to be helping. When she told me her therapist recommended that she start journaling, I ordered her this special notebook.
She has a bunch of others that she’s been writing in like a demon, filling them up with a decade’s worth of stories set in a fantasy world she’s building.
But this one will be special; it will be all her truths.
Because, of course, there’s one secret neither of us will ever tell a therapist. Luckily, the police have never suspected Sitwell’s death to be anything other than suicide.
Only my soon-to-be mother-in-law has been spouting off conspiracy theories online, saying the government offed him, that he was set up and evidence was planted.
It’s all bullshit. But little does she know, there is the tiniest glimmer of truth in her rambles.
But that’s what makes the best conspiracy theories, I suppose.
The ones with a bit of truth buried in the lies.
“Nothing special, just wanted to get my girl something nice.”
“Well, that’s a good man right there. Just make sure you get Seattle a ring this season.” He laughs and hands me my receipt.
“I’ll do my best.”
You off work, baby?
I text, deciding to walk home instead of catching the Lightrail.
We just began construction on our two condos, tearing down the wall to make one giant unit.
Cyn usually works from home. When Cyn told her she wouldn’t be returning as an escort, Trini offered her a job as her personal assistant, but with all the dust and noise at home, she’s been rotating around different coffee shops to work, writing for pleasure during her breaks.
Come meet me.
She responds, then sends her location. It’s the hotel we first met at. How much do I wanna bet that she’s in the same room?
I pick up my pace.
Twenty minutes later, I’m buzzing into the room and toeing off my shoes. I set the notebook down on the entry table. The room’s windows have heat tint, and it’s cool and dark.
“Cyn?” I call out, already stepping toward the open doorway of the bedroom.
“In here, baby,” she calls back sweetly. My heart is already pumping blood straight to my dick when I hear an unfamiliar giggle. What the hell?
I stop just inside the bedroom, putting my hands on my hips with a half smirk at the sexy scene before me.
Cyn is sitting with her back against the cushioned headboard, grinning like a cat who ate the cream.
She has on a barely-there ice-blue bra and panty set made of satin with scalloped edges.
A matching garter is tight around her waist, holding up flesh-colored panty hose.
Most surprising, though, is how she’s slightly turned toward another woman in a matching powder pink set.
She’s darker than Cyn, with wildly curly blue-black hair and sloe eyes.
“Well, what do we have here?” I ask slowly, my cock painfully stiff. I take one step forward as Cyn pouts her pretty lips and twirls her hair around one finger.
“Surprise. This is Sugar; she works for Trini,” Cyn says, her green eyes sparkling at managing to shock me.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, moving closer. The two together look like a delicious dessert, wrapped in satin bows for me.
“I just didn’t think it was fair. That you’ve only ever been with me. And I got all that practice before meeting you again,” she half pouts her puffy lips, still suppressing a smile as I stalk slowly toward the bed.
“Don’t you think you should’ve asked me if I wanted to fuck another pussy?” I raise my brows archly. God, I can’t wait to get my hands on her little ass. A few handprints will look very nice on her silky skin.
“Don’t you like me?” Sugar asks in a lightly accented voice. She moves closer to Cyn and the two hold hands, curling close like pretty puzzle pieces.
“You are very beautiful, Sugar,” I say, knowing there’s no way that’s her real name. “So, you’re here for my pleasure?”
Both girls nod, and I grin, my shoulders relaxing.
“You’re so good to me—” Cyn begins, but I cut her off.
“Because I love you. Now, Sugar, I’d like to see you kiss Cyn.
” She grins, and Cyn narrows her eyes at me, then smiles.
She knows I’m gonna do what I want, and she’s gonna enjoy it, because seeing her pleasured gives me pleasure.
The two kiss, Sugar on top, more dominant, her hands skimming down Cyn’s curves and her thumbs hooking in her garter.
I pull off my shirt, unable to take my eyes off the hot sight of my girl making out with another girl.
Cyn writhes, and I can hear their tongues sliding against each other, little whimpers emanating from between their pressed bodies.
Sugar is thicker, curvier than Cyn, her tits twice the size of Cyn’s as they mush together in their satin cages.
“That’s good. Now kiss her neck, lick. Good girls. Suck on her pretty nipples,” I give orders and Sugar obeys, popping Cyn’s titty out of her bra and mouthing it, sucking hard, making Cyn moan and her hips twitch as she glares at me, her fingers tangling in Sugar’s thick hair.
“This was supposed to be for you!” she gasps as Sugar kisses her way lower, lapping at her belly button.
“This is for me, baby.” I kick off my pants, my black boxer briefs bulging with my erection. I grab it and squeeze as Cyn’s legs involuntarily spread. “Lick her pussy. Get those panties off and suck her sweet slit. I want to see my girl cum on your tongue, Sugar.”
Red tongue rasping against waxed pink flesh is filthy and organic and has my balls tightening lightning fast. Cyn stares at me as I stare at her pussy, just able to see Sugar’s flickering, tensile organ.
She taps at the engorged clit, stroking back the hood and sucking.
Cyn’s thighs tremble, her knees rise. Good girl.
“Cum, baby, let her feel how you gush when you orgasm, let her stroke you through it,” I grit out the words as I shove down my underwear and jerk my cock in long, firm pulls.
Cyn cries, her eyes dilating and her abs going rigid. Sugar doesn’t stop lapping as her hips thrash and her gash leaks.
“Beau!” Cyn shouts my name and my cock spits.
“Come here, baby, crawl to me. Suck it,” I order. Cyn is up on wobbly knees, and Sugar falls aside, licking her juicy lips and eyeing my big dick. This treat’s not for you, sorry, Sugar.
Cyn falls onto all fours, and I fist her hair, leading her gaping mouth over my cock in one go. I nudge forward, and her jaw unlocks, and I’m thrusting down her neck with a gasp.
“Fucking hell, baby, you swallow my cock so good,” I groan as I shove in and out of Cyn’s mouth in steady pumps. Deep, gliding, dripping saliva. I see her ass wag, and I lean forward to slap it. “Come on, sweet thing, get that tongue back in here, eat this angel gash.”
I have to flex my ass to stop a premature ejaculation at Cyn’s pretty cock-choked whines as Sugar spreads her cheeks, sharp-tipped nails digging in, and licks up her crack.
She’s eating my girl’s ass from behind in ravenous snaps, her eyes on me, but I can’t look away from the way Cyn’s hips swell.
From the way her skin folds over the tight garter at her waist. From the way she gags and tears spill over her lower lids.
“Cum again, baby,” I tell her, watching as Sugar carefully sinks a sharp-nailed finger into Cyn’s rosebud asshole and pumps it a couple of times.
Cyn gasps, and I shove my cock in to the base as she vibrates in orgasm.
Sugar watches me smugly. Sorry, still not tempted.
I smile back, then yank free. I want to fill my baby’s pussy, not her mouth. I slap her hip. “Sit on Sugar’s face.”
The two moan and twist, Cyn ending up crawling forward over Sugar, her back to me, and her hands clasping the headboard.
She begins riding her tongue, looking back at me with her chin dropped, waiting to see what I’m going to do next.
Sugar spreads her knees wide, tempting me with her panty-covered cunt.
I straddle her, my balls dragging up her belly as I move closer to Cyn.
I grab the center of my shaft and aim. My chest is nearly to Cyn’s shuddering back.
She knows. I notch my tip in her entrance and roll my hips, sinking my head in and lowly fucking it in and out as Sugar stays latched on her clit.
“I’m never gonna put this cock in another pussy. Never. I only want one cunt. It’s tight and sweet and cums so easily.” I thrust forward. My cock is long and straight and spears right through her clenching hole. “This is it for me, baby.”
Cyn moans my name, and I fuck her rough, using her pussy as my perfect little cum dump.
I grip her waist and rock her on Sugar with my thrusts, my balls bouncing heavily off Sugar’s chin.
I roar, and they swell and shoot. I jam my spitting dick fully into my girl’s grasping hole.
I cum so hard I barely hear Cyn’s cries from her simultaneous orgasm.
Granted, we had a little help. This time.
When I fall onto my back, I see that Sugar is fingering her pussy, her panties shoved aside. She got hers.
“Thank you,” I grunt to both of them, half closing my eyes.
Cyn is still whimpering with pleasure, but Sugar, very professionally, stands and pulls on a dress. She wriggles her fingers at both of us, wipes Cyn’s juices from her face, and disappears.
“That was hot,” I say, standing to get Cyn’s gift. Her eyes are limpid pools as she watches me walk buck naked back to her.
“What’s that?” she asks softly, exhausted from all her climaxes.
I hand it to her, lying down and reaching behind her to unsnap her bra and garter belt.
They look sexy as hell, but they have to be uncomfortable.
I rub gently at the red lines on her skin and kiss her waist as she gasps.
“It’s beautiful, Beau! Why did you get this? ”
“I just wanted you to have something special to start journaling in,” I tell her, kissing more along the red line at her waist.
“I love it,” she says with a sigh. “I was trying to do something nice for you, but I’m the one who ended up with multiple orgasms and a personalized journal.”
“Just having you to come home to is enough for me, baby,” I tell her as I wrap her up in my arms and scoot up, tangling my thick leg around hers. “Now, let me put my cock in your warm pussy and let's take a nap.”