69. EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
“Alex, this is a terrible idea.” I squirm on top of the washing machine, the hem of my short skirt riding up my thighs. “Our family and friends are downstairs.”
Their laughter drifts through the closed door of the laundry room, reminding me that we’re hosting Thanksgiving. Or, at least, that we’re supposed to be hosting Thanksgiving, not fucking in the laundry room like we’ve done approximately seven hundred times since we moved in.
Alex grins up at me from where he’s kneeling on the tile with his hands grasping my legs. “Actually, I think it’s my best idea yet.”
“I’m serious.” I force my features into a sober expression. “Your parents are here. What if your dad walks in or something?”
“Trust me, I could be decapitated and it still wouldn’t stop me from eating this pussy.” He pulls the lining of my panties to one side and groans. “Now, respectfully, will you shut the fuck up and let me get to work?”
Well, when he puts it like that…
Any other argument I may have had dies on my lips as he swipes his tongue up my center. I bite my fist to hide my moan, his knowing chuckle vibrating through me and amplifying the pleasure to a dizzying degree.
At least this won’t last long. Not if he keeps devouring me like it’s the first time he’s ever had the privilege of tasting me.
I wind my free hand into his hair. He’s been growing it out since Macon cut it for his school project, and though it isn’t anywhere near the length it used to be, it’s long enough for me to pull it in the way I know will make him crazy.
He’s taken to wearing it messy on top and faded at the sides, which, paired with his dimples and perpetual smirk, makes him look even more rakish than he did before. And though I know he misses his long hair, I think he’s just as hot without it.
His tongue flicks my clit, just as he drives two fingers inside me. He hooks them, pressing hard against the spot that makes me see stars, and I erupt in a firework of glitter and heat and sundust.
Alex beams up at me, his face shiny and gleeful. “That’s my girl.”
“You are a terrible influence, you know that?” I pant, but there’s nothing but bliss in my tone. Which really dampens the disapproval I’m trying to convey at his seduction techniques.
Who am I kidding though?
I knew exactly what was going to happen the second he took my hand and pulled me upstairs. I knew where he was taking me. Knew what his plans were. But still, I didn’t try to stop him until he’d already settled himself between my legs.
Because as much as I like to try and shirk responsibility, I’m as insatiable as he is, it seems.
Which is why I’m the one who reaches for his belt buckle and unlatches it. It’s why I’m the one who pulls his pants down and frees his dick from his boxers.
It’s me who brings it to my pussy and raises my hips to get the right angle. And it’s me who digs my nails into the back of his neck and begs, “Give me your dick now, please.”
“You think I could ever say no to you?” He takes over the hold on his dick, and rubs it up and down my slit.
“Baby, I would give you the moon if it was for sale. I’d give you the sun, the earth, and the eight other planets in the solar system.
Yes, I’m including Pluto, because that poor little dude never gets enough credit.
And I will sure as shit give you my dick in my favorite room in this house whenever you want it, however you want it, without you ever needing to say the word please. ”
I should be used to his romantic speeches and love declarations by now. He never lets me go a day without hearing at least two of them. But still, he manages to make my heartbeat stutter every single time.
I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being loved so openly. So deeply and earnestly. Even if he does make it his life’s mission to acclimate me to it.
“I’d give you another child if you wanted one.” The promise is whispered, as if he’s scared of how I’ll react to it.
My eyes snap to his. “What?”
Until now, I was under the impression he didn’t want children of his own.
Not that he’s ever said it outright, but he’s never told me the opposite either.
And it’s not like I’ve put much thought into having a second child.
Macon has always been more than enough, and truthfully, the thought of going through what I did with Sebastian again has always been so terrifying that I’ve never allowed myself to even dream about what it would be like to give Macon a sibling.
But Alex isn’t like Sebastian.
Alex isn’t like any other man I’ve met.
“If you wanted another baby,” he breathes, his expression so sincere it almost makes me want to cry, “then along with the moon and the sun and all the other stuff I said… I would give you one of those too.”
“Are you serious?”
He covers his heart with his hand. “As serious as I am about you.”
Wow.
Well, okay then.
“Can we park this conversation and come back to it at a time when your dick isn’t stroking my pussy?”
His eyes sparkle when he smiles. “Of course.”
“And you know what you said about giving me your dick whenever I want it without me needing to say please?”
He nods.
“Then can you hurry up and put your money where your mouth is?”
He thrusts inside me before the word please can pass my lips.
My teeth latch onto his shoulder to keep my moans at bay, as he starts up a punishing rhythm that has me shaking in seconds.
Every time with Alex is like the first time.
Every shove of his hips is just as breathtaking.
And every press of his lips against mine is as soul-shattering as it was on the steps of the party almost a year ago.
“I love you, Eden Miller.” He holds me by the hips for traction, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.
“I love you, Alex Wolfe.” I pull his hair at the roots just to watch the way his eyes roll back.
When we come, we do so together. Our chests heaving, our breathing ragged, and our hearts beating the syllables of each other’s names.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” he rasps into my neck.
Happy Thanksgiving indeed.
ALEX
Leo has his eyebrows raised in accusation as we stagger down the stairs to rejoin the party. My legs are still trembling, and I’m sure my hair is in such disarray that it’s obvious to everybody what we’ve just been up to. But I don’t care.
I’m a happy man. I’m more in love than I ever thought possible, and I’ve just had hot-as-fuck sex with my hot-as-fuck girlfriend in the laundry room. Nothing can get me down.
Unless someone says something to Eden about it. Then I’ll riot.
“I’m gonna go find Macon,” I tell Eden. “Will you be okay without me for a minute?”
“I’ll be fine.” She smiles, and it sets my soul on fire. “Go.”
It’s only once I’ve watched her find her sister on the other side of the room and am confident that no one’s going to give her shit for me railing her upstairs that I go in search of the kid.
There’s a very serious conversation I need to have with the little man.
I find him in the living room, building legos on the vintage mauve rug. Naturally, I live in a pink house now. Eden designed the interior, obviously, using it to build her portfolio for design school. My girl is going to be a world famous interior designer one day, mark my words.
And though it’s the complete opposite of my old apartment, it’s better in every way. It’s warm, cozy, and safe. It’s a home. A real one. Though that might be more to do with the people I share it with than the color of the walls and soft furnishings.
“Uncle Alex!” Macon shows every single one of his teeth as he smiles, dropping his legos onto the rug. “Happy Thanksgiving!”
It’s the fourth time he’s wished me a happy Thanksgiving today. The first time being this morning, when he busted into mine and Eden’s bedroom without knocking first. Thankfully, we were both fully clothed.
“Hey, buddy.” I ruffle his hair. “Are you free for me to show you something?”
“Yep.” He bounds to his feet and takes me by the hand. “Is it a puppy? I know Mom said we can’t get one yet, but I really really want one.”
“Sorry, little dude. It’s not a puppy.”
He has another four weeks to wait for that. Eden only told him we can’t get one for a while to throw him off the scent, but there is a half-blind Golden Retriever with his name on it heading his way on Christmas Day, courtesy of the kill shelter my sister is now a self-appointed ambassador of.
“Oh.” His shoulders sag for a moment before he lifts them again. “Nevermind. Is the thing cool though? Like a new video game, or a Bruno Mars music video?”
I scratch the back of my head, leading him upstairs to the room I share with his mom. “Well, that’s the thing. I kind of want your opinion on whether it’s cool or not.”
His forehead creases in curiosity as I pull open the drawer to my bedside table and take out a little velvet box. I pass it to him, watching with a thundering heart as he opens the lid.
“A ring?” He blinks up at me.
I shove my hands into my pockets and rock back on my heels. “Yep.”
“You want to know if I think this is cool?”
I nod.
He frowns. “I mean… it’s pretty shiny.”
“Shiny is good.”
“I guess it’s cool.” He shuts the lid, passing the box back to me. “Is it for Mom?”
“Yeah, it’s for your mom. I was thinking about giving it to her…” I pause. “To ask her to marry me.”
Macon’s eyes widen, and I thank the heavens that he gave me back the ring because he definitely would have dropped it if he hadn’t. And our bedroom has hardwood floors. If it had fallen through one of the slats, who knows where it would have ended up.
“You’re gonna ask Mom to marry you?” There’s a breath of awe in his voice.
Or, at least, I hope that’s what I’m detecting.
“Well, that’s what I wanted your opinion on. Whether or not you’d think it would be cool for me to do that.”
“Are you serious?” He leaps toward me, throwing his arms around me and bouncing on his feet. “That would be the coolest thing ever! Are you gonna give it to her now?”
“No.” I laugh. “I was thinking later tonight once everyone has left. Think you can help me do it?”
He nods so vigorously, I fear he’s going to give himself whiplash. “What do I need to do?”
“I’ll tell you the plan later, but we should probably rejoin the party before your mom comes looking for us and ruins the surprise.”
“You’re right.” He sprints back out to the hallway, considers something, then dashes straight back to me. “Does this mean you’re gonna be like my dad?”
God, I hope not. I don’t ever want to be like Sebastian.
“What do you mean?”
“Like, do I call you Dad now? Or still Uncle Alex?”
Oh.
Man, I love this kid.
“You can call me whatever you want, buddy.”
“Okay.” He grins. “I’ll think about it.”
I watch him throughout the rest of the night, the flicker of excitement in his eyes and the smile on his face that never dims for even a moment.
He tells us for the thousandth time about when he got to be principal for the day, but he doesn’t breathe a word of what he knows to anyone.
They could read it on his face, though, if they knew what they were looking for.
Eden, however, remains totally oblivious.
She sits beside me through dinner, our hands locked on her lap beneath the table.
She doesn’t bat an eye at the long, starstruck looks I give her.
She’s used to them by now. And she doesn’t question when Macon excuses himself in the middle of dessert to sprinkle rose petals in the yard outside.
“You have no idea what’s about to happen, do you?” I whisper into her neck, as we say goodbye to the last of our friends and family.
She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
“You’ll see.” I pull her by the hand toward the back yard.
“If you’re taking me outside for another round of porch swing sex, can it wait until tomorrow?” She yawns. “I’m exhausted.”
“Nope. This can’t wait.”
“Fine.” She wraps herself around my arm, staggering beside me on tired feet. “But you’re going on top.”
God, I love this woman so much.
She has no idea of the change she’s brought to my life. No idea of the way she’s changed me.
I pull her through the bifold doors to the starlit, petal-dusted path of our backyard, where her son is waiting for us with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen.
“Alex, what is this?” she gasps.
“It’s our forever.”
November air bites at our skin, and she shivers against me, seeking the warmth she knows I’ll always give her. I wasn’t lying before. I’ll spend the rest of my life giving this woman everything she wants, so long as I get the privilege of loving her.
Because loving her is a privilege, and I was so wrong to ever think it would only lead to pain. Loving Eden is the first kiss of summer after a long winter. It’s a caress, a song with the most beautiful melody, and a patch over the holes in my soul.
Loving Eden doesn’t hurt.
It heals.
THE END