Epilogue
ACE
Getting a hot tub really was a good idea.
First off, it’s therapeutic. Which is the reason I gave to my teammates when I suggested the idea.
But even better is when I get to see Yara naked inside it.
Not that I don’t see her naked all the time, but there’s just something about being in a hot tub with her, seeing her cheeks flushed pink with heat, the swell of her breasts, slick and satiny as the water bubbles around them, and the softness of her features as she relaxes into the experience.
Steam billows around us, curling the tiny hairs around Yara’s face. The flickering light from the candles scattered around the gazebo adds a warm, romantic glow. Above us, the glass roof displays a panorama of stars.
Of all the places in the world, I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.
Actually, strike that.
As long as I’m with Yara, I’d be happy anywhere.
But.
Holding her on my lap while I lazily pump my fingers in and out of her, feeling her inner walls clutch at me, watching her head fall back against my shoulder, exposing the column of her neck, her lips parting on a small O of pleasure…
This is pretty damn great.
With my other hand, I palm Yara’s breast, grazing my thumb across her nipple. Then I give it a little pinch, knowing she likes the brief spark of pain amid the wave of ecstasy coming up on her.
Yara lets out a low moan, and her hips buck against me.
Dipping my head, I capture her mouth with mine. She tastes of rich chocolate and lush grapes and a sweet, honeyed flavor that’s only her.
Her hand comes to my thigh, nails lightly digging in.
Her core squeezes around me.
“Tink,” I breathe once we break the kiss. “Do you have any idea how fucking perfect you are?”
“I’m not perfect,” she replies quickly. Her lips quirk. “Not even close.”
“Yes.” I find her sensitive bud and flick it gently. “You are.”
“No—”
I draw my fingers almost all the way out, then sink them deep again.
Yara gasps.
Ripples of her impending orgasm flutter around me.
Her legs fall open, inviting me in.
Lust-glazed eyes gaze up at me, the color of evergreen touched with silver.
Moving from her breast to her belly, I splay my hand across it, holding her flush against me.
I love holding her like this.
Feeling the curve of her perfect ass on my lap.
Stroking her silky skin.
Supporting her, and knowing she trusts me to do it.
Looking down at her, in awe of just how beautiful she is.
Wondering how the fuck I got lucky enough for her to fall in love with me.
“I love you,” I say, the words too big to keep them inside. That happens to me often; this overwhelming surge of emotion when I think about how much I love her.
Words aren’t enough to explain it.
Actions aren’t enough to show it.
It’s like a universe expanding to infinity inside me, but instead of stars, it’s filled with all the love I have for her.
Would I have ever imagined loving someone this much?
Could I have ever imagined thinking such romantic things—universes of love and wishing I had a million lifetimes to show Yara just how deeply I care for her?
No. I wouldn’t have. I couldn’t have.
But oh, do I love her.
“I love you,” Yara replies. She turns her head to kiss my neck. Her breath whispers across my skin as she adds, “With all my heart. My soul. Everything I am. I love you.”
My heart threatens to explode from the sheer joy that comes with her words.
“Tink.” I kiss her again. “Fuck, I love you.”
With no other words to show her how I feel, I turn my focus to bringing her pleasure instead.
I play with her little bud, caressing and teasing.
My fingers move inside her, faster and faster.
Her inner muscles quiver, on the cusp of release.
Then I crook my fingers just so, hitting that secret spot deep within.
Yara’s hips surge forward.
Her head falls back again.
Arousal slicks my fingers, pulsing around them.
A guttural sound—half moan, half sigh—escapes from Yara’s lips.
And with one last thrust, she comes.
Yara’s body tenses, all her muscles locking up as ecstasy takes over.
Her eyes slam shut.
Her fingers dig into my leg.
I hold her against me, supporting her when her body goes limp.
I press a kiss to the top of her head, closing my eyes as I absorb everything.
My dick throbs painfully, begging silently for release. But I firmly command it to behave, reminding it that now isn’t the time.
Now is for Yara. For celebrating the victory she just learned about today. For making sure she knows that her needs are and always will be more important than mine.
Once the aftershocks have subsided, I reluctantly draw my fingers from her tight heat and turn her on my lap. “Was that good?” I ask.
She smiles. “Of course. Couldn’t you tell?”
Well, yes. But I like to hear her say it, even so. “Just checking.”
Yara moves to straddle me, but I clamp my arm around her waist to stop her. She frowns. “You didn’t finish. I want—”
“It’s not about me right now,” I interrupt. “It’s all about you.”
“But—”
“Yara.” I firm my voice. “I want tonight to be about you. Okay?”
At first, I think she’s going to argue. But a moment later, she relaxes and leans against me. “Okay.” Humor laces her voice. “If you insist.”
I stroke a tendril of hair off her cheek. “I do.”
“But later,” Yara persists. “Before we go to bed. I’m returning the favor.”
My eager dick twitches.
“You don’t have to,” I reply. “It’s not like that. I don’t do things expecting—”
“I know.” Her lips brush across mine. “I like making you come. Especially when you just lie back and let me do whatever I want.”
Shit.
It’s really hard to stick to my make tonight about Yara plan when she says things like that. But I tamp my own urges down. For now, at least.
“I love it when you take control,” I tell her. It’s just as hot as when she lets me do the same. As much as I enjoy it when Yara cedes control over to me, there’s just something about watching her above me, her gorgeous body on full display, letting her do whatever she wants to me.
It’s always incredible, for the record. Because one of the awesome things about sex with Yara is how strong she is.
Not strong enough to overpower me—shit, I’ve got eight inches and almost a hundred pounds on her—but she’s strong enough to try some of the positions I’ve never tried with anyone but her.
We’ve actually been working our way through the Kama Sutra, testing out some of the more challenging positions.
Yara gave me the book for Christmas—not during the gift exchange with my family, but later, in the apartment above the garage—with the explanation, “I know it’s kind of cheesy.
But I thought it might be fun, seeing how many we can do. ”
I wholeheartedly agree. It is fun. And I’m more than up for the challenge.
“So, later,” Yara presses. “When we’re in bed? We’ll make sure we both finish?”
I kiss the sensitive spot below her jaw. “If you insist.”
She smiles. “I do.”
“But for now,” I add, “this is Celebrate Yara night. After all, it’s not every day you win a grant from the National Science Foundation.”
Her face lights up. “I suppose it isn’t.” A beat passes before she adds, “I still can’t believe it. Winning that grant… I only entered on a whim. I never expected…”
“Of course you’d win. What you’re doing is so important, Tink. If they didn’t give you the money, they’d be crazy.”
Yara’s exciting news from earlier today is the reason for our impromptu celebration—dinner out in Williston at her favorite restaurant, wine and truffles back at home, soaking in the hot tub beneath the stars, and soon, another surprise I’ve decided to spring on her tonight instead of waiting.
A few months ago, Yara applied for a robotics grant from the National Science Foundation, all the while insisting she had no chance of winning.
But she did. And she won big. They awarded her a grant that will fund her work for the next five years, including all the equipment and materials she needs, a full-time salary, and professional connections to help her inventions get distributed to the people who need them.
Now, she’ll be able to quit her job in Seattle to work on her inventions full time.
She’ll be able to come up with methods to scale the production of her prosthetics, so they’ll go to even more veterans.
She’ll be able to do what she loves, right from the state-of-the-art workshop we’re going to build on the Blade and Arrow property.
Oh, and she’s already making plans to offer summer internships to the most promising students from her enrichment class, so they can follow in her footsteps if they want to.
In fact, one of her favorite students, Jack, who’s headed to Berkeley this fall, is already planning to work with her next summer.
Shit, I’m so proud of her, I could burst.
“There are lots of people who are doing great things,” Yara points out. “I’m not the only one.”
“But look at what you’ve done. You’ve changed people’s lives. Indy’s. Tyler’s. The recipient from the event last year. That’s huge. And just think of how many more people you can help.”
“I know.” She brightens. “I never imagined making them on a bigger scale. In the beginning, I didn’t think I wanted to.
I liked puttering away in my garage, spending a year to make one prosthetic.
But.” Her expression turns thoughtful. “Seeing how much it helped Indy and Tyler… it made me realize how much more I could do, if I had the funds.”
“And you will.” Turning Yara to face me, I frame her face with my hands. “I’m so damn proud of you, Tink. We all are.”
She stares at me before swallowing hard. “I used to worry that my parents would be disappointed in me. Which was stupid, they wouldn’t have cared what I did for a living, as long as I was happy. But now… I think they’d be proud.”
My heart twists. “They would be, Tink. I’m sure of it.”
Yara gives me another long look. Then she pushes herself off me and starts to climb out of the hot tub.
“Where are you going?” I ask. “Are you too hot? Too cold?”