Epilogue
Dakota: Five Years Later
I’ve always loved springtime because it’s filled with the scent of fresh rain from all the thunderstorms that we get in the south, especially in the month of May.
But summer…
Summer with family was on a whole different playing field—literally.
Even though Rhylan had given up on his dad’s dream to have a son in the major leagues so that he could chase me, he still had a love for his childhood passion. And now he was teaching our sons how to play the game; for fun, of course.
“You boys ready for lunch yet?”
“Aw, just one more pitch, Mama… Puh-lease?” Deacon, our oldest, now just shy of five, pleaded as if his life depended on this last hit. He loved the time he spent with his dad, and Rhylan made it a priority to always be there for our kids, front and center.
I once asked him if he’d have the same expectations for kids that his father had of him if they ever chose to pursue baseball seriously later in life.
He’d been quick to respond, “Not a chance in hell, darlin’. These boys will carve their own path, and I’ll walk beside them every step of the way.”
And as for the MUR… Well, that discussion’s been tabled until our oldest reaches at least seventeen.
“Food’s gettin’ cold, kiddo. And it looks like you're in desperate need of something to eat and drink with all that sweatin' you're doing.” I ruffled Deacon’s soft brunette hair, almost identical in color to Rhylan’s; his handsome spittin' image.
They’d been outside in the backyard since the crack of dawn. Honestly, if it weren’t for me, they’d likely skip lunch altogether without question.
Even our three-year-old, Liam, had managed to keep up with them this morning. “Daddy, throw the ball already!”
“One more, darlin’,” Rhylan gave me a playful wink in my direction, “Then we’ll bring it in, I promise.” He smirked, wetting his lips as his eyes stripped me bare.
There was no hiding what was running through my dirty cowboy’s mind. And he looked damn fine in his backward Nashville Sounds ball cap and white muscle shirt. Those toned biceps on full display with nothing to hide, his panty-dropping hazel eyes that brightened the second they locked on mine.
Such a goddamn turn-on…
“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I crossed my arms as my eyes bounced between my boys. “All three of you.”
“Alright, here comes the ball, Deacon. You ready?” Rhylan rotated his hat forward before grounding his stance in the grass. He’d once told me that his favorite position was pitching. “Eye on the prize, sport.”
Deacon nodded, gripping both hands tightly around the handle of his Junior Louisville Slugger. With a slight wiggle of his butt, he squared up to the imaginary plate they’d created from a pile of dead sticks and leaves.
His bat was custom-ordered and hand-carved from cherry wood. A gift Rhylan had given him the day he was born. Deacon’s birth date was engraved into the barrel, along with all of our initials.
Rhylan wound up for the pitch, releasing the ball on the count of three. As it flew towards him, our son swung with all his tiny might, nailing it with the sweet spot on the barrel so perfectly that it lobbed right over his dad’s head.
“I hit it, I hit it, I hit it!” Deacon bounced around the plate, fists punching the air with ecstatic joy as he celebrated his best hit of the day.
“Run D-con!” Liam shouted, watching Rhylan pick up the ball before faking a charge toward his brother, who wasn’t paying a bit of attention.
Deacon dropped his bat and took off in the opposite direction, hoping to escape his dad by hiding behind the nearest tree.
Within seconds, Rhylan had him trapped with nowhere left to run, and then tackled him to the ground with a loud squeal of laughter.
“I save you!” Little Liam wasted no time joining the struggle, running over and leaping on top of them both, creating a pile-up. All three were now wrestling for the ball that had rolled only a few feet away, none of them giving up the fight. Boys will be boys.
“Okay, okay. You’ve had your fun. Wrap it up, boys.”
“Alright, you heard the lady—”
“Mom.” I sassed, rolling my eyes with a huff at my husband. “I ain’t pretending to be a lady out here, and thank god I don’t have to.”
Five years on the ranch really took the city girl right out of me. With the amount of testosterone that had taken over our home, I was far from ladylike anymore, living up to my pet name.
“You’ll always be a lady in my eyes, Wildcat.” Rhylan’s charming smile made my knees buckle as he scooped me into his arms, cradling me against his firm chest bridal style while he walked toward the house.
“Why is Dad always calling you that?” Deacon asked innocently, his mossy green eyes catching in the sunlight, making the color pop even more.
“It’s just a silly little nickname he came up with years ago...”
“Like when you call me, kiddo, or Dad calls me sport?”
“Sorta… same but different.” The name still gets me every time he says it, even to this day. Hell, it got me pregnant, twice.
“Once a wildcat, always a wildcat, darlin’.”
“Hey, Dad, can we play again after lunch?” Deacon was quick to change the subject, eager to get back outside on this beautiful day.
“How about we have a little quiet time first? You two can watch TV on the back porch while your mom and I have a little… one-on-one before she leaves for work.”
“Can I play games on your tablet?”
“Anything you want, Dec…” Rhylan set me down on the porch just as the boys sprinted inside to get washed up for lunch.
He then pressed his lips against the side of my head, mumbling the rest of his sentence so that only I could hear.
“Anything that will give me fifteen minutes alone with my gorgeous wife.”
Only fifteen?
After we finished lunch, we got the kids settled in on the porch; one playing video games while the other watched the movie Cars. We slipped away into our bedroom, hopefully undetected.
“I only need ten to have you screaming my name.” Rhylan pulled his phone from the back pocket of his Wranglers just as we crossed the threshold of the bedroom, typing rapidly on the screen before setting it on the nearest dresser.
“Challenge accepted, but I think you’re all talk, Cowboy.”
I heard him lock the door as I stripped off my clothes, taunting him both verbally and visually. There wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that he’d leave me ruined, and with time to spare.
My fingers had barely reached the clasp of my bra when he came up from behind, pinning my arms to my back while pressing his length against my ass. He didn’t bother to wait until I was fully undressed, driving a hand into my panties and between my thighs.
“Is that right? Well, it’s a good thing that Trent’s on his way over right now to handle the boys, so I can take care of my girl.
” Rhylan began peppering wet kisses along the side of my neck, before dipping his middle finger inside me; short, slow teasing motions in and out.
I didn’t just melt at his touch; I damn near dissolved.
“And I intend to take really, good fucking care of her.”
“Mm… fuck me.” The involuntary moan said it all; I was still starving, even after a full meal. Fuck, he drove me buck wild.
“How do you want it this time? Bent over with your hands gripping the corner post and your legs spread nice and wide while I fuck a third baby into you?” His free hand settled into the curve of my waist, fingertips digging into my skin, while a second finger was added to stroke my G-spot. “Or maybe—”
“Maybe you can stop wasting what little time we have by shutting up and putting that tongue of yours to better use? How does that sound, Cowboy?” I panted through every sentence, choking on my words as I tried to remain composed and witty, all while losing my mind to his hand.
“Such a filthy fuckin’ mouth my wife has.
Goddamn, how I love when you boss me around.
” Rhylan dropped to his knees, folding me forward like a damn lawn chair in the process.
I dug my nails into the edge of the mattress as he stripped away my damp panties and forcefully parted my legs into a wider stance.
“Now, how ‘bout you hold tight to those sheets and push that pretty pussy out for me.”
With his palms cupping the base of my ass, he pressed his thumbs against the apex of my thighs, spreading me open. I rose on my toes, the cool air kissing my flushed, wet skin, as I did what he’d requested, tilting my hips to fully expose myself, giving him the perfect view.
“Such a good, responsive girl you are, Wildcat.” I could feel the puffs of his breath against my clit as he spoke, a light flick of his tongue caused my body to shudder and tense with excitement.
“Rhy, please…” I moaned while swaying my hips from side to side, not so silently begging for him to get me off.
I was growing impatient the longer he toyed with me, my mind recalling the first time he used his vibrating tongue ring; the earth-shattering orgasm that was ripped from my body. It became my favorite form of oral pleasure ever since.
I started rocking back and forth, my eyelids falling shut as I imagined fucking him instead of the air. Riding his face until I came.
“Look at you, darlin’. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this greedy for me.” His fingers tightened on my legs, forcing me still while he chuckled at my desperation. “How much longer do you think you can wait?”
“Fuck… you… Rhy…” I must’ve been ovulating because I stood no chance at fighting against his hold, not whilst I was trembling, begging to be fucked.
“You’re right. Fuck me.” Rhylan pressed his tongue just under my clit, the piercing sending a surge of vibration throughout my pussy that forced a scream from my mouth.
The feeling was like being struck by a bolt of lightning. Intense and fast. If it weren’t for the firm grip he had on my thighs, I would’ve collapsed from pleasure.
Various pitches of moans were being ripped from my throat as I held onto the mattress for dear fucking life. He ate me like a dying man enjoying his last supper.