EPILOGUE
Vaughn
As wonderful as it is to be back in Barbados, it’s even more wonderful to be here with friends.
Something happened between my trio of men and Eve’s trio of men at that industrial park in San Antonio.
Well technically, Eli is Eve’s too, but he’s definitely more mine, and she has a trio, so.
..whatever...irrelevant. Eli, Jax, and Marshall are now all broey with Adam, Cal, and Cotton.
It’s weird, but good weird. Everyone still behaves exactly the same as before but, now they like each other despite their differences.
Having Abel home has been amazing, too. Eli has always been near perfect, but now that his brother is home, it’s like there was something missing before and now he’s whole.
Abel isn’t big on the group scene, though.
He wants his wife and son with him at all times.
Literally, every second. He wants to see Eli and their mom a lot, too, but his wife and son have to be there, or it’s not happening.
No solo twin stuff. Eli seems fine with it, though.
Eli keeps saying that he can’t imagine what Abel has been through for the past year, and honestly, I can’t either.
The guy was literally hunted like an animal.
Everyone keeps talking about what a badass Eli is, and well, he is for sure, but Abel’s no slouch.
He was essentially presumed dead, trafficked, left in a coma, sold again, hunted by some people who reeeeeally wanted him dead, and then somehow, he killed all the bad guys and clawed his way back from Russian to get home in time to save all our asses.
Oh, and he did all of this while adjusting to a missing limb. He’s definitely the hero of the moment.
Abel refused to bring his family out of the country.
Understandable. Mama didn’t want to come either.
She said this trip was for young people.
Actually, this trip is for me and Eli, but Eli wasn’t leaving the country without his new team.
He doesn’t like it when I call them his team, but I swear he’s training them.
They target shoot together, talk strategy on hypothetical situations, and they’re teaching each other things.
I haven’t forgotten what he said about his new job. He gets to pick his own team.
Cal has taught them all some basic computer stuff.
Eli has shown everyone how to throw a bomb together with household products.
Cotton subtly mentions influential people or people who aren’t necessarily influential but who have access to desirable places or things. It all feels very teamy, if you ask me.
“Hey there, wife.”
“Husband.”
“Mrs. Washington.”
“Mr. Washington.”
Eli keeps greeting me in this way. He’s stalking toward me on the white sand of the beach, wearing a sexy dimpled grin.
That’s it. Just the grin. This beach is private, but not that private.
And it’s not a nude beach. The rest of the crew is up at the rental compound.
Winston found us this amazing collection of rentals right near the beach.
It’s perfect. We’ll all be near but not too near one another, and we’re still close to the clear blue water and this amazing beach.
I didn’t get a chance to come down here on our first trip, but Eli wouldn’t shut up about it.
Apparently, there’s a half feral wombat/lemur pickpocket that Eli needs to settle a score with.
All I’ve seen is my massive, tattooed, naked husband tossing bits of my favorite candies to a sweet little mongoose.
He kept talking to it as it followed him up and down the beach.
One of Eli’s random ass playlists is crooning beside me by way of his ever-present Bluetooth speaker. The track changes and Chris Stapleton’s melodic voice flows through the crisp, clear air. I can see the moment it reaches Eli’s senses. He feels it all over.
Suddenly, the score appears decidedly settled as he’s back, looking like a hot nudist soldier with a devious plan. Stapleton trills on about “Tennessee Whiskey” as Eli comes closer. He already stripped us both as soon as we got down here, claiming that tan lines are illegal in Barbados.
The, new to me, lounger I’m lying on is hot pink and light pink.
One of those vintage folding ones. Winston took us to a flea market last night when we arrived, and Eli bought it for me.
No idea how I’ll get it home but, I love it.
Winston is crazy resourceful. I bet he can get it back to the US for me.
After rifling around in my beach bag, Eli pulls out a metal...corkscrew? Or a leash anchor, maybe. No way.
“We can’t keep a mongoose in the apartment.”
“Good thing we’re house hunting when we get home.”
“We are?” My excitement is evident in the squealing tone of my words and the kicking of my feet.
I love the apartment. WE love the apartment.
It’s where our love story began and blossomed into what it is today.
It’s where we got Eve. It’s just...our own home?
Ours? Real privacy and carte blanche to decorate how we want.
I CAN PAINT! Okay so we can decorate how I want. Eli doesn’t have an opinion.
“Well, no, not exactly house hunting.”
The way I visibly deflate actually causes Eli’s dimples to deepen. Dick move.
“The survey should be done by the time we get back, so we can hunt for the right house plans.”
“House plans.” It comes out like a statement, but, in my mind, it’s a question.
“House plans.”
He’s squatting down behind the head of my lounger with the corkscrew. I’m too confused to confuse myself further by wondering what the hell he’s doing back there.
“What’s a survey?”
“Well, in this case, it’s a land survey. We bought a plot of land that’s part of another property, so our plot has to be surveyed out so that we can start building our house on it.”
My loud gasp is muted with my hand over my mouth.
“Build?! We get to design the whole thing?!”
“Of course you do, Little Devil. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
He says this in a way that makes it obvious he knows this is exactly what I want.
The thing is, we’ve never had this conversation.
I’ve never even had this thought. It hadn’t occurred to me that it would ever be an option available to me.
He’s going to build me a home. And we’re going to build a life in it.
He comes back around the front of the lounger to face me now.
My mind is racing with thoughts of butler’s pantries and walk-in closets when my husband pulls the leather strap from his damp hair.
The song changes again, and Ray Wylie Hubbard sings about “Ramona” and the snake farm she works on.
This song does something to Eli. Knowing what’s coming next, I hold out my wrists together in offering to my husband.
The leather strap seems like it was made to secure my wrists.
Eli pulls my bound hands above my head, and I quickly realize what he was doing behind me earlier when he secures the clasp sitting atop my lounger to the strap tethering my wrists.
The clasp is connected to a cable with a clear plastic covering.
That cable is clipped to the corkscrew that’s now buried deep in the sand behind me.
Eli spreads my legs wide, settling his knees on the end of my lounger, forcing it down to the warm sand below.
His large hands settle on my inner thighs, pushing them obscenely wider.
For a long moment, he just stares between my legs.
When he closes his eyes and inhales deeply, I know that he has seen the glistening evidence of my arousal.
Now, he’s scenting me in the air. This embarrassed me once, but Eli has made it clear that nothing is more enticing than the scent of me.
“Wife.”
“Husband.”
“Mrs. Washington.”
“Mr. Washington.”
Eli appears to pause for a moment, keeping his eyes closed.
Just as “Simple Man” begins to filter through the air, Eli slowly opens his eyes.
He peers directly into my soul and smirks before lowering his mouth to my center.
Again, he breathes in deeply and groans.
This time he’s close enough to taste, so he does.
The flick of his warm tongue and the guttural moans he makes as he licks my clit nearly send me over the edge.
He looks up at me, meeting my eyes as he uses the textured surface of his tongue to flatten against me.
“Ah, Eli.”
The intense eye contact and rough pressure are all it takes to surge an intense euphoria through my limbs that settles between my legs, causing my teeth to chatter and my sanity to weaken.
He swirls his nose through the wetness he created at my entrance.
Slowly, he maneuvers his large body up mine.
It’s now that I see his nose and mouth are slick with the evidence of my climax.
He kisses me just as the words to “Don’t Blame Me” surround us.
The song is over? He was between my legs longer than I realized.
Eli twines his arm around my waist quickly spinning us so that he’s beneath me and I’m straddling his hips.
My breasts have settled heavily on his chest until he reaches between us, grabbing them and bringing them to his mouth.
He sucks both nipples into his mouth, growling and grinding his hips up into me.
My hands find their way into his hair, and my soaking wet cunt grinds hard against his bare shaft.
This severs that last tenuous string of Eli’s restraint, and he lifts me.
His hard cock is flush against his stomach, so I attempt to grip it in my small hand to line us up, but Eli grabs himself, still holding me up with one hand.
I can’t catch up or even brace myself before he slams me down, impaling me in one swift movement.
“Eliiii!” His name is on my lips in the same moment that his growl reverberates across the empty space.
Just as I tighten the muscles in my thighs to lift myself, Eli’s hips surge up, roughly vaulting my body so that his cock is almost removed from inside me.
Just as I’m coming back down, his naked ass meets the lounger.
He rockets his hips back up, slamming his massive shaft into me again.
The thrusts of his hips are so severe that he’s bouncing my body several inches above him with each forceful move.
The intensity of my orgasm builds each time he slams into me harder with every near violent plunge of his hips.
Eli is so wild and frenzied, I don’t think he can do anything but chase his own release in this moment.
His gaze is trained between us. He’s focused on the connection his cock is making with my slick cunt.
The music continues to play, but the wet sloshing of our mixing arousals, my husband’s vicious growls, and the slapping connection our skin makes is all I can hear until he speaks again.
“Fuck me, wife.”
He knows I can’t do anything but hold onto his thighs as he catapults me into the air over and over.
My inner walls clamp down, seizing his cock as my climax intensifies.
The muscles in his thighs tighten even more under my fingers as my orgasm continues to climb.
My upper body falls forward onto Eli’s sweat slicked chest as he throttles upward harder and faster.
I bite down on his chest when bright lights explode in my vision as the most intense orgasm I’ve ever experienced possesses my body.
My hands are clenched, and my entire body is shaking with the loss of control.
Vaguely, I’m aware of the hot streams of cum he’s releasing inside me as he roars beneath me.
I’m lying limply atop my husband on the most beautiful beach I’ve ever seen.
His softening cock is still inside me and his fingers are combing through my hair.
His ring on my finger glints in the Barbadian sun while our hearts beat to the same rhythm.
Our chosen family awaits us nearby. Soon we’ll return home to build the walls that will house the love and memories we’ll share until our last breaths.
“Elijah Washington, I, Vaughn Washington, am hopelessly and incurably in love with you.”