Epilogue
“Stop fussing,” I demanded as Gracie tucked me in. Fully. Up to my neck. I looked like a mummy.
“Well, if I don’t tuck your arms, you’re going to keep reaching for things and messing with your stitches.”
To be fair, I already had to go up to Hailstorm once for pulling the stitches. She wasn’t overreacting. And it was sweet as fuck.
“I’m going to go—”
“Ahead and kick off your shoes and join me,” I suggested. “You’ve been running around all day.”
“You like being cared for.”
“I do. But you’ve done enough. Come here and relax.”
“Your laundry—”
“Can be done by Spike or Cain. It’s their job, not yours.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Don’t make me grab you and pull you onto this bed.”
She sighed at that and toed off her shoes, knowing that I would do it.
“Isn’t that better?” I asked when she curled in at my side.
“I like doing caretaking. It’s my love language.”
“Yeah?” I asked, sliding my good arm out of the blankets. “Thought you liked touch,” I said, running my hand up her leg, hip, across her stomach.
“Perish, you can’t…”
“Can’t what?” I asked, hand sliding up her belly to close over her breast. “Lie back and let you ride me?”
“Your… stitches,” she said, voice catching as my fingers teased her nipple.
“Won’t get pulled if you’re on top.”
“This one might,” she said, reaching over to my side where a bullet narrowly missed my ribs and lungs to lodge in some muscle.
She wasn’t wrong.
“Not if you’re riding me reverse.” My hand slid back down her belly to slip between her thighs, finding her already wet for me.
It hadn’t been easy to share a space, share a bed, with her day in and day out without touching.
I mean… we hadn’t exactly done nothing.
The first night or two had just been about sleep. That third night, though, had been torturous with her restlessly writhing around in her sleep, looking all flushed and sounding all needy.
I’d eventually coaxed her into slipping out of her panties and riding my face until she got the relief she needed to be able to sleep.
And when she’d gotten up in the morning to find me hard, she’d taken me into her mouth and sucked me off until my fucking toes curled.
But we both knew what we really needed for relief. We were both sick of waiting, whether she would admit that or not.
“We shouldn’t—” Gracie objected, but her hips were already rocking. Her hand was already sneaking under the blankets and into my pants to curl around me.
“But we’re gonna,” I said, fingers sliding inside her, knowing that she would get frustrated pretty quickly, needing more.
I wasn’t disappointed.
First, there was a whimper, then a grumble, and finally, she was wiggling out of her pants and underwear, then shooting me a flushed-faced, borderline bashful look before she climbed into position.
But any uncertainty about the position evaporated when she sank down on my cock, the angle hitting just right.
She found the rhythm she liked, then fucked me up and through a leg-shaking orgasm.
“We need to move to your apartment,” I said when she collapsed next to me afterward.
“Why?” she asked, all soft.
“Because I want to hear you screaming when I fuck you. Can’t have that here.”
She angled her head up.
“I think I have to get a bigger bed.”
I reached to the nightstand and handed her my phone. “Order it. One-day rush.”
Gracie - 4 months
“Oh, my,” one of the servers said as the bass dropped on a song that had everyone—the bride in her floor-length princess gown—starting to test the strength of their knees as they dropped it low.
“This is one of my favorite parts of weddings,” I admitted.
Sure, the ceremony was emotional. The reception was lovely.
But when everyone just completely let loose and had a blast? So much fun. I hoped at my own wedding that my loved ones could throw aside their inhibitions and have a great time.
“I’m just going to get some air if anyone needs me,” I said. I’d been inside this building putting out embers before they turned into fires for almost ten hours already. I just needed ten minutes to myself while everyone was busy.
“Okay,” she said, giving me a smile as she turned back into the kitchen, likely to tell the staff that I wasn’t going to be a helicopter for a little bit so they could get a break too.
I slipped out the back door.
These grounds weren’t nearly as sprawling as the Grassi ones. But there was a nice manicured backyard that the right photographer could use to get decent photographs.
“Those bridesmaid dresses are the ugliest color blue I’ve ever seen,” a deep, familiar, welcome voice said as he stepped out of the shadows.
“You know, you really don’t need to keep playing security at these things,” I said even as I walked into his arms, resting my face against his chest.
“That ain’t gonna stop me,” he said, hands already going to my shoulders and neck, working out the tension that had been growing there all day. Later, after I got home, showered, and changed into something comfy, he would pull my feet over his legs and massage my aching feet too.
“There have been no threats,” I reminded him even as I melted into his chest.
“Not taking any chances.”
I had a tiny little scar on my leg from being dragged by Cameron. I still caught Perish staring at or stroking it with a murderous look on his face. Meanwhile, the guy had three new bullet wound scars that he never paid any mind to.
As much as my mom and aunts raised me to be able to take care of myself, some intrinsic part of me really loved Perish’s protectiveness.
A guy cursed me out in traffic once, and I’d been worried I’d be trying to bail him out of jail.
“How’s it going in there?”
“Good. Everyone’s grinding on the dance floor right now. Then it’s just cake, drinking, and seeing the happy couple off.”
“Where are they going on their honeymoon?”
“A cruise.” Perish made a weird gurgling sound. “What?”
“Spending your honeymoon locked up with thousands of other people? No thanks.”
I liked cruises.
But I was apt to agree.
“So, what’s the best honeymoon locale then?”
“An over-water villa. Private ski cabin. Private island rental. Somewhere private. Where we don’t have to worry about people hearing you cry out for more of my cock,” he added, his hands sinking down to grab my ass.
“Don’t start something we can’t finish,” I grumbled. “But I agree. We don’t get much privacy.”
My neighbors knocked on the wall if we got too loud.
“Speaking of that, I was thinking about getting a place.”
“Really?” I asked, pulling back to look at him. “Since when?”
“Since the first night the neighbors got their celibate panties in a wad. But I started looking at places while you were dealing with that bride from hell.”
“You’ve been keeping secrets from me?” I asked in faux outrage.
“Didn’t wanna split your focus. But now that this one is done, figured maybe we could go look at some places. Found one with one of those finished sheds out back that can be used as a home office.”
“And let me guess: a nice yard for you to fuss over?”
“It’s in bad fucking shape.”
“But that’s your favorite. A project.”
“That’s true.”
“Well, whatever place it ends up being, the local birds and squirrels are going to have it made.”
“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Tell me when, and I’ll set up a viewing.”
“Tomorrow. Let’s go tomorrow.”
We’d been pretty much living together since he healed from his gunshot wounds. But my apartment was not meant for a man his size. Everything felt cramped and doll-sized. It would be nice to have a bigger, more private place.
“Nice. If we like this one, it’s got one big added bonus.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s at the end of the same block your parents live on. Might be good for… future plans.”
We didn’t talk about kids often, aside from the fact that we both wanted them. And as much as I did, I really think Perish wanted them more. To be able to have that loving family he never had growing up, to break bad cycles. To teach them how to mow the lawn.
“That sounds perfect. Do we really even need to see it?” I asked, soaking up another hug before I had to pull away.
“Want to have Cain point out anything we gotta worry about,” Perish said. Cain had been law enforcement by trade. But his real passion was in handyman-type stuff.
“Okay. Then let’s see it, let him tell us it’s all good, and snag it before someone else does.”
“Deal.”
“But after eleven. I’m going to be here so late. I want to sleep in.”
“Sleep in, brunch, viewing.”
Yeah, I’d introduced Perish to brunch. He’d been obsessed ever since. I had a theory it was the mimosas. But whatever it was, I loved the looks we got from all the groups of women when we showed up at the restaurant. Like they thought I’d snagged one of the good ones.
I had.
“Sounds perfect,” I agreed, leaning up for a kiss before heading back inside to watch a whole family celebrate the beginning of a happily-ever-after for their loved ones.
Someday, that would be us.
But I wasn’t in a rush.
I was enjoying each step along the way.
Perish - 1 year
“You’re getting fat as fuck, man,” I called to the squirrel who was staring at me from the tree, just waiting for me to finish filling the feeders so he could knock the contents on the ground for him and his buddies. “If you’re not careful, you’re gonna get stuck in the fence.”
“Talking to yourself?” Gracie asked, standing a few feet away with an armful of grocery bags.
“To Steve,” I said, nodding at the squirrel.
“I still think that’s a girl. She’s too calm. The boys are always chasing each other up and down the tree…”
“What?” I asked when she trailed off.
“I think we’re officially old people,” she declared, her face scrunching up. “We’re talking about the squirrels. And the birds. And we totally talked about the weather this morning.”
“We’re… domestic,” I decided.
“That’s a nice way of putting it. How did it go with the plumber?” she asked as I came over to help her with the bags.
“About how I expected,” I said as we moved into the kitchen.
“Meaning expensive.”
“What in this house hasn’t been?”