Epilogue

SIX MONTHS LATER

GEMMA

I lean back on the couch with a full belly. Pointing to the television, I instruct Val, “Flip to Trey’s game.”

He shakes his head. “Nope. Not happening. Not a good idea, and Trey has forbidden us from doing so.”

My shoulders fall. “Ugh. Is it that bad?”

He scrunches his face. “Yep. We watch football on Sundays anyway, not baseball.”

Trey is playing against the Bombers up in New York today. While all the New York fans still love him, they hate me. I’m blamed for Trey leaving the team. I don’t go to many away games, but New York would be an easy away game for me to attend given its proximity to Philly. I tried to go once at the beginning of the season, but security had to escort me from my seat to a private box because of all the hate I was getting. People were legitimately throwing beer cans at me.

Trey freaked out, and I haven’t been back since, but it doesn’t prevent them from holding up signs along the lines of she’s no GEM, please come back . Trey doesn’t like me to even watch the games in New York.

He, on the other hand, has become the poster child for women’s rights groups due to his speech, which went viral.

I shrug. “Some of the signs are actually funny. It doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Okay, it bothers me a little bit. I didn’t ask him to leave the team. Why am I being blamed?

CJ holds up another slice of pizza for me, but I hold up my hand. “No, no, no. I have a wedding dress to fit into in six weeks. No more pizza for me.”

“It’s spinach and tomato. It’s vegetables. It’s practically healthy.”

“Dammit. You’re an asshole.” I hold out my hand. “Give it to me.”

He chuckles. “So easy to tempt you. You’re going to be a beautiful bride no matter what. Eat up.”

“Thank you. And you two will be the most beautiful bridesmaids ever.”

We all laugh. Val and CJ are in my bridal party. They bought pale pink suits to match the bridesmaid dresses. Not an easy color for them to find, but they were determined to do so. Grammy Jane is my maid of honor, with Trey’s sister, her wife, Libby, JoJo, Ava, and Taylor rounding out my bridal party.

My mother initially started planning the wedding, but I had to take all responsibility away from her. She was driving me nuts, and Trey hated how stressed it was making me. He diplomatically managed to make it seem like he was doing a favor for my mother by taking the reins.

Trey and I are now doing everything ourselves, and we couldn’t be happier. It’s going to take place just after the season is over. I’m counting the seconds until he’s my husband.

After watching two full football games, I look at my watch as I stretch and yawn. “It’s getting late. Trey should be home soon. I’m going to get going. You know, I gotta…make the bed and stuff.”

CJ raises an eyebrow. “Don’t bullshit us. You just want to get home so you can get railed.”

I smile widely. “Three days is a long time to go without my fiancé. I’ve missed him. And when he returns from a road trip, the sex is off the charts. Well, it’s always off the charts with him, but there’s that reuniting element when he returns.” I shiver. “So hot.”

They both roll their eyes, and I giggle. They hate hearing about my sex life with Trey. So of course I give them very specific details anytime I can.

I say goodbye and begin my walk home. I’m a few blocks from my house when I receive a text notification. Looking down at my phone, I notice that it’s from that same unknown number from all those months ago.

I open the text and it’s a picture of me…from about thirty seconds ago. What? I snap my head around, and before I know what’s happening, a big hand covers my mouth, followed by an arm wrapping around me and then pulling me a few steps into a nearby alley.

I’m about to scream when a familiar scent invades my nostrils. I mumble into the hand, “Trey?”

I hear him chuckle as he removes his hand. I turn around in his arms while otherwise being pinned to a brick wall. I narrow my eyes at him. “Has it been you all along?”

He smiles. “You said you wanted to try the stalker trope. Cheetah helped me with the original pics to make sure you didn’t suspect me.”

I twist my lips. “Hmm. I did say that, but it’s not as fun in reality. You scared the shit out of me.”

He cages me in and rubs his massive erection against my center. “I don’t know. It’s kind of hot. Maybe I’ll tie you up and have my wicked way with you.”

I squirm against him until he’s rubbing the right spot. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I say, “I’m all for the BDSM trope, but let’s leave the felony tropes to the romance novels.” I softly kiss his lips. “Tell me more about what your wicked way would entail. Be detailed about what’s on this…menu.”

He slowly licks up my neck. “Well, the restaurant is called Trey’s Trope Trattoria.”

Ooh, I like this game. “I’ve never heard of it.”

He runs his hand under my loose skirt, slides my panties to the side, and dips a finger inside me. Bringing it back out to his mouth and licking it, he says, “Such a good amuse-bouche.”

I smile. “My bouche is very amused.”

“For the full appetizer, you’ll spread your long legs for me, right here in public, while I feed my cock into your pretty pussy.”

He unzips his jeans and pulls out his cock before lifting me and making good on his promise by sliding in deep. So deep.

Once inside me, he stills as we both adjust to the sensation that’s been vacant the past few days. I’ve missed the closeness. He squeezes my ass, letting me know he’s feeling the same.

I breathe, “An appetizer of the expeditionist trope is top-notch. What else does Trey’s Trope Trattoria offer?”

After beginning his movements inside me and kissing along my jaw, he whispers, “The intermezzo will be when I come inside you and then feed it to you.”

I can’t help but giggle. “Ooh, a little semen soufflé. Cum-play is a good trope and certainly a delicious palette cleanser. I’m liking this restaurant so far.”

He establishes a rhythm inside me. I throw my head back. “Oh god, that’s good. Keep talking. I love when you talk to me.”

“The main course will be at home when I serve you a heavy dose of the BDSM trope. I’m going to tie your wrists and ankles to our bed and lather you in what’s inside the lavender and fuchsia bottles.”

“What about the apricot-colored bottle?”

“That too, but first I’ll need an accompaniment. ”

I grin. “And what’s the appropriate accompaniment for a main meal of BDSM?”

“It consists of feasting on your pussy and bringing you to the edge over and over again, not letting you fall over until I decide it’s time.”

I mock gasp. “The edging trope is hot. Only the most skilled chefs can make it happen though. Is the chef at Trey’s Trope Trattoria that good?”

We smile into each other’s mouths. Trey has edged me multiple times with explosive success.

“You know he is. He’s an expert inside Gemma’s kitchen. It’s his favorite kitchen.”

I deadpan, “It’s the only kitchen for him.”

He nods as he thrusts in and out of me. “Only one he’ll ever want.”

His cock inside me feels so damn good. I breathe into his mouth, “I’ve missed you.”

He breathes back, “I feel like a part of me is missing when we’re not together.”

Our playful banter is momentarily stopped as my emotions overcome me. That’s exactly how it feels when he’s gone. Like I’m incomplete. Ugh, I’m such a cheesy, madly in love, female main character from one of my books.

I moan, “More. Give me more information on the menu.”

He slowly moves in and out of me. “While the appetizer is gentle lovemaking, the main course will include fucking you hard and deep. You won’t know where I end and you begin. It won’t conclude until you’ve had several orgasms. Your hot little pussy will explode on my cock over and over again.”

“Oh fuck.” His actions and words tip me into oblivion. I tilt my head back as my world goes momentarily dark. My legs shake, and my orgasm takes over my entire body.

I hear him groan as he pumps into me a few more times and spills himself inside me .

After a few breathless moments, I ask, “What’s on the dessert menu at Trey’s Trope Trattoria?”

He bites my neck as he grabs my ass. “Peach Gobbler.”

I let out a laugh. “Peach Cobbler?”

He squeezes me a few more times. “Nope. Gobbler.”

I kiss his lips and run my fingers through his hair. “I love Trey’s Trope Trattoria. I’m giving it a five-star review.”

He smiles into my mouth. “The best part of Trey’s Trope Trattoria is the happily ever after.”

THE END