Grant
Ten years later
Ilean against the doorframe of the elementary school gymnasium, arms crossed over my chest, watching my wife in her element.
Chloe’s thirty-five now, but she still looks just as beautiful as the night I found her on the side of the road.
Her curves have only gotten softer and fuller after three pregnancies, and the sight of her laughing with a group of second-graders still makes my chest tight.
She’s leading a craft station, paint on her fingers and a smudge of glitter on her cheek.
Our youngest, four-year-old Lily, is glued to her side, while our seven-year-old son Max is running around with the bigger kids.
Our oldest, nine-year-old Ethan, is helping her hand out supplies like he’s the assistant teacher.
Retirement suits me. After thirty years as sheriff, I finally handed in the badge two months ago. Now I spend my days fixing up the house, coaching Little League, and taking care of my family, the way I always wanted to.
Chloe glances up and catches me staring. The smile she gives me is warm and knowing, the same one that’s been bringing me to my knees for a decade.
Chloe’s family has been mostly absent from our lives for years now, and I’ve made damn sure it stays that way.
After that explosive scene in the town square ten years ago, I told them flat out they were no longer welcome anywhere near my wife or our future children.
They still send the occasional stiff, passive-aggressive text around the holidays—usually from her mother, short and snide, asking if Chloe is “still playing house with the sheriff.” She rarely replies, and I prefer it that way.
From what little we’ve heard, Jessica and Bryant got married shortly after everything blew up, but their marriage was a disaster.
Bryant eventually got tired of Jessica’s constant need to compete and control everything.
They separated a couple of years ago. Her parents, of course, still take Jessica’s side in everything.
They never once reached out when Chloe was pregnant with Ethan, and they have never met any of our three kids. That’s just fine by me.
It used to hurt Chloe deeply. I saw it in her eyes those first couple of years.
But I made her a promise early on: she didn’t owe them a damn thing—not her time, not her energy, and definitely not access to our family.
“They had their chance to love you right,” I told her one night, voice low and final.
“They chose not to. That’s on them.” I’ve never regretted drawing that line. I protect what’s mine.
Now, sitting here watching her with our kids running around, I know she’s at peace.
She has everything she needs right here on this lake, a husband who worships the ground she walks on, three beautiful children who adore her, and a town that embraced her as one of their own.
And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure it stays that way.
Later that evening, after the kids are finally in bed, I find her in our bathroom washing the last of the paint off her hands. I step up behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist and pressing my front to her back. “Long day, Mrs. Sullivan?” I murmur against her neck, breathing in her scent.
She leans back into me with a soft sigh. “Exhausting. But worth it.”
My hands slide up to cup her full breasts through her thin tank top. Even after three kids, she’s still the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. “You looked so damn good with all those kids today,” I growl, rolling her nipples between my fingers. “Made me think about putting another one in you.”
Chloe lets out a breathy laugh that turns into a moan when I grind my hardening cock against her ass. “Grant… we said three.”
“I know what we said.” I nip at her earlobe. “Doesn’t mean I stopped wanting to see you round with my baby again.”
I spin her around and lift her onto the bathroom counter in one smooth motion. She wraps her legs around my waist instantly, pulling me closer. At sixty-two I’m not as fast as I used to be, but I’m still strong enough to handle my wife exactly how she likes.
I shove her tank top up and latch onto one of her breasts, sucking hard while my hand dips into her sleep shorts. She’s already wet for me.
“Fuck, baby,” I groan against her skin. “Still so greedy for this old man.”
“Always,” she whispers, tugging at my shirt. “I love my retired husband.”
I push her shorts and panties down in one motion and free my cock. I’m rock hard and aching for her. I line myself up and sink into her tight heat in one deep thrust. We both moan.
“Jesus Christ, Chloe,” I rasp, starting to move. “Ten years and this pussy still feels like heaven.”
I fuck her steady and deep on the counter, one hand gripping her hip, the other tangled in her hair. She clings to me, moaning my name with every thrust, her nails digging into my shoulders.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” I growl against her ear. “Take your husband’s cock like the good girl you are. This old man is still the only one who gets to fill you up.”
Her walls start fluttering around me and I know she’s close. I reach between us and rub her clit just the way she likes it.
“Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
She comes hard, crying out my name as she pulses around my cock. The feeling sends me over the edge right after her. I bury myself deep and groan as I empty inside her, thick ropes of cum flooding her just like I have for the last ten years.
I stay buried inside her as we catch our breath, foreheads pressed together.
“I love you,” I whisper, kissing her softly. “More every damn day.”
Chloe smiles, tired and glowing. “I love you too, Grant. My retired sheriff… my everything.”
I kiss her again, slower this time, already thinking about carrying her to our bed and taking her all over again. Some things never change and I wouldn’t have it any other way.