Bonus Epilogue #2
“Axel or Nova works for me. We’ll have the coolest little badass around.” I pull back and slide down the bed so my head is on Harlowe’s belly. “You hear that? We have a name for you, chili pepper. We know you’re going to be a handful, but we’re ready for you anyway.”
Harlowe threads her fingers into my hair and hums happily as I nuzzle into her skin, pressing kisses along each fine line and stretch mark that bears the story of the lives we have created together.
I can't wait to meet this new little addition to our growing family, but I’m so happy we have this time for the two of us to get away and reconnect.
Work has been so busy for me, and she’s been crazy with filming another season of her cooking show for the Gourmet Network and writing a new cookbook.
She’s also resolutely keeping up with content creation for her YouTube channel and social media on top of everything else.
The woman doesn’t stop, even with a six-month-old and being pregnant.
This vacation was as much to get her to take a step back and relax from the constant grind as it was for a babymoon.
“Now I want some of that spicy fish soup Chef makes. Do you think he’ll make it for us this trip?
” she asks. “I couldn't get him to give me the recipe even with all of our emails back and forth over the years. I told him we could have another wok off and if he was impressed enough with whatever I make, he’d have to give it to me this time.”
I chuckle at her one-track mind. “What does he get if he wins?”
She scoffs. “You have such little faith in my ability to wow him, despite having seen me impress him before and knowing what I’m fully capable of, now.”
"My sincerest apologies. I know you're likely to impresss the fuck out of him." I kiss her so she’ll go on.
“Fine. I told him I’d give him my honey cake recipe, the real one, that the hotel in Singapore used, not the one I made healthier for the cookbook. He was dying to try it.”
“I remember that recipe. I still think you could have set the internet on fire had you shared the footage of us making out while covered in the batter. It would have been the start of a new series, I bet. Food porn with the Foulmouthed Foodie.”
She laughs. “I think I have to draw the line at posting thirst traps that hint at my boobs and writing racy captions. It’s an entirely different thing to post nearly pornographic food videos where we almost ripped each other’s clothes off as you licked cake batter off my skin and we pawed at each other on the kitchen counter while making out. ”
“I’m glad you saved it and we can watch it whenever we want. That was a good clip. We should make more food porn. In fact, I saw a fruit bowl when we came in. Let’s start with that,” I joke, looking over her shoulder toward the front of the villa, and said bowl.
She swats my arm. “You’re too much. But I’m not against some fun videos for our own use. As long as they stay in the bedroom where they belong.”
“That’s not a no, and I will definitely be setting up your tripod and camera when we get home, because you’re a fucking dream and I could watch you get off all day long.”
She laughs, the sound lighting me up and sending velvety butterflies dancing through my rib cage and rippling down to my cock even now.
“How about we clean up and go visit the restaurant? All this talk of food has me hungry, and you know I can’t put off eating for long,” she says, already rolling out of my arms.
I groan, willing my cock that’s at half mast to go down, knowing her one-track mind is now set on food, no longer on sex.
We freshen up, redress, and walk to the little restaurant on the island.
We spend time visiting with the island hosts, and the chef Harlowe is so interested in.
She does, in fact, impress him with her cooking skills, and he allows her into the kitchen where they cook together.
She’s taking photos and recording as she goes, making content even while on vacation, and once the food is plated and her “phone has eaten first”, I take it out of her hand.
“Hey!” she protests as I pocket the device.
“I wasn’t done. I need a few more photos of this gorgeous dish.
Do you see how bright the colors are and how pretty it’s been plated?
This lighting is so gorgeous, it’s seriously popping.
This would make a killer post, my socials would eat it up.
I can already see the post and know the caption I’ll write. ”
I kiss her to stop her stream of objections.
“You’re on vacation and not supposed to be working, you should be enjoying yourself.
You’ve taken enough photos of the process.
Now, come over here and eat the beautiful food you guys created while it’s still good.
If I have to sit you on my lap and feed you myself to get you to stay still long enough to eat, I will. ”
She smiles sheepishly and follows me out to the deck overlooking the clear turquoise water that laps against the pilings below us.
“Fine, you’re right. It’s so hard to get out of that work mode.
I want to be creating all the time. Even taking three months off with Hana, I still found myself wanting to be creative and batch content to post. It feels like I’ll get behind and lose everything I’ve built if I really take time off and don’t engage.
” I hear her unspoken hesitation and the fear in her words.
She’s afraid everything she’s built will be lost or taken away if she stops hustling.
I sit across from her and take her hands.
“Harlowe, you’ve created a brand, a social identity, a cookbook line, and have a cooking show, all centered around what you make and who you are.
You are extremely successful with what you’ve done.
No one can replace you, and that’s not going anywhere, even if you take a week, or even months off, to make sure you’re getting rest and ensuring your family is getting the best of you.
There is so much reusable content at this point you could post something every day without having to create anything new, and your following would continue to grow, if that’s what you’re after. ”
“I know, I do. And thank you for reminding me of that when I get in my head. It’s a constant comparison game, wondering if I’m doing enough, or am enough, or if I need to change something up so I can stay relevant.
Like, what if my audience doesn't like that I’m changing to more family-friendly food and creating recipes that are kid-friendly, because that’s what I’m making more of?
I know some things have to shift with my lifestyle, but I don't want to alienate the people who followed me from the beginning and know me for my foul mouth and thirst traps.”
“Just remember, all of that out there isn't real, it’s just likes and comments from people on the internet who think they know you. What’s real is the family we have and the friends in your life who actually know you.
So make sure you’re spending as much time on that as you do with creating for the social audience.
Put out content that makes sense for your life.
You have babies and need food that’s kid-friendly and can feed a family.
So do millions of other people. You can drop F-bombs and have your tits out while making chicken nuggets just the same as bulgogi tacos.
I’m not complaining either way. I’ll eat whatever you put in front of me and be the happiest man alive. ”
She sits back and straightens her shoulders, her tits perking up in the sundress I love so much that draws all my attention to her amazing rack.
“You’re right. I’m a goddamn icon. I can do whatever the hell I want.
I need to remember who I am instead of letting my insecurities and fears of the what-ifs send me spinning into freak-out mode. ”
“That’s my fucking queen right there,” I tell her proudly as the kind staff bring the plates out to us for our dinner. “You are an icon, and you’re going to keep being one as long as you want.”
Later that evening, a storm rolls in from the open ocean and we watch from our villa as I fuck her while she straddles my hips.
Thunderstorms are our thing, and it feels particularly fitting to be back here where we fell in love during a storm just like this.
Watching lightning crack open the sky and listening to thunder boom as Harlowe’s cries join in the cacophony of sounds feels like a good omen for the new life we’re bringing into the world.
She rides me slowly, our pleasure building along with the storm and surge of the ocean outside.
She rolls her hips against me as I rise to meet her, sliding into the perfect fit of her glorious pussy, grinding my pelvis against her clit with each stroke.
Her head falls back, hair tumbling down her back and tickling my thighs, nails scoring my shoulders where she grips me tightly, marking me with her Wildcat claws so the world will know I’m hers.
My fingers sink into her plush ass, pulling her against me harder as she races toward her climax.
All I can do is watch in awe as her face transforms with each crack of lightning into an ethereal goddess who owns me, heart, body, and soul.
When she comes, her vice grip pussy strangles my cock and brings on my own release, my groans muffled as I bury my face between her tits while she holds me tightly and I listen to the racing of her heart that syncs to mine and sounds like home.