Epilogue One-Anna
EPILOGUE ONE-ANNA
“ W hat’s the little guy up to?” Giselle asks over the phone.
“Well, he’s sitting up now and when he has tummy time, he’s getting up on his knees like he might crawl,” I tell her excitedly.
I’m kind of bummed my bestie isn’t here to see him achieve his latest milestone. Just like I’m sad she isn’t here to see the new house.
After Nico and I had a very long and thorough heart to heart a few months back, he told me his plans and showed me the pictures of this place.
He’d already made an offer, and I was so glad he did. It’s perfect. The outside is all stucco and brick, and we’re at the end of a cul de sac in a suburb right outside Jersey City .
We waited to move in until renovations were complete. Like our new recreational wing that features a gym and an indoor pool, complete with retractable ceiling.
“Did you paint? I like that color,” Giselle says.
“Yeah. Isn’t it pretty?”
I lift the phone so she can see the light blue walls we painted in Nico Jr.’s room.
We are calling the baby Jr. for short. I say my goodbyes and end the call, Jr. on my hip as I go to the kitchen.
Mrs. Pirillo decided to come with us to the suburbs, and she has a room now in the house. With her children all grown and she and her husband separated, it was kind of ideal for her.
I’m glad. I love having her around. I’m not comfortable with the idea of a nanny just yet, but I do appreciate her watching the baby while I work on my sewing projects.
I hear the rumble of an engine pull up and excitement hums in my veins. It’s Nico.
We go out to celebrate date night once a week, but he’s early. I haven’t showered or dressed yet, and the baby is still awake. He claps his hands when he sees his daddy coming.
I’m smiling so wide when Nico comes in, striding right for me with a look of such intensity on his face I feel it to my toes.
“Wife,” he moans, kissing me hello, then he turns his attention to our son.
“Hey little guy,” he says, and gives Nico Jr. dozens of kisses on his cheeks and neck.
The baby reaches for him, and Nico scoops him up, continuing their love fest. I just smile and Mrs. Pirillo joins me.
“I never pictured him for a family man, but would you look at that? My oh my,” she says, waggling her salt and pepper eyebrows.
I sigh and nod along, standing next to her.
Look at that, indeed.
My gorgeous husband is a complete cinnamon roll for our little boy, and I swear my ovaries are erupting like fireworks, desperate to give him more babies.
At least ten more.
I swear my pussy starts to protest, then she gets all warm and wet too, just looking at my big sexy husband making goo-goo faces.
“Here, I’ll take him. This little man needs his dinner,” Mrs. Pirillo approaches and reaches for the baby.
Nico hands him over, turning to me with his eyes blazing blue fire. He takes my hand and leads me to our room.
Our bedroom is enormous. Twice the size of our old one with walk in closets and an ensuite bathroom that puts the one in the condo to shame. And that is saying something.
It’s more luxurious than anything I ever saw. But it suits my husband. And it suits me.
“So, um, I haven’t showered yet or anything,” I say, and I’m running my hand over my head, a lame attempt to tidy myself as he closes our door and turns to face me.
His gaze is hungry. He licks his lips and stares at my yoga pants and tank top like I’m wearing something sexy.
“I like it when you’re dirty, Wife,” he says, pressing me against the wall.
His lips close over my carotid artery. He sucks, then Nico bites down and my pussy clenches.
“You do, huh? Show me,” I say, my gaze half-lidded as I run my fingers up his neck and over his head.
“My pleasure, Wife.”
Then he drops to his knees. And I shake my head and moan as he tugs my pants down over my hips.
It might be his pleasure, but it’s definitely mine, too.