Chapter 37

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Zane

T he next morning, after I eat Autumn for breakfast, we go downstairs, where I prepare the batter for a batch of pumpkin pancakes.

Autumn sits at a high bar stool in the kitchen, looking so pretty in one of my old T-shirts and plaid pajamas.

“This smell reminds me of the coffee shop in the fall,” she says.

“Do you want to return to work?” I ask. Her vacation isn't even for three more weeks, but it’s not something we’ve discussed in depth. Whatever she wants to do, I will support her. It’s her decision. The deal was she would go back on November first. I selfishly don’t want her to.

“I think I want to try to write again and decide later,” she tells me confidently. “You inspire me so much.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” I drop the spatula in the bowl and move to her, sliding my fingers through her hair to kiss her so damn softly. “Stay right here. Okay?”

“What? Why?”

“It’s a surprise!” Quickly, I jog up the stairs and enter the closet, pulling out a gift bag. When I return to the kitchen, she’s grinning wide as I hand it to her. She pulls the tissue out and unwraps the golden paper.

“A new laptop.”

I nod. “The best for my pumpkin. I’ve waited a month for this moment.”

She sets it down on the countertop and stands to hug me tight. “Thank you.”

“I’m already your biggest fan,” I say, smiling and kissing her. So damn happy that she’s taking the steps to go after her dreams. “Think you’ll make that deadline?”

“It depends on how inspired I am.” She waggles her brows.

I reach around, grabbing a handful of her ass, capturing her lips. “Mm. I look forward to helping with that.”

She laughs against my mouth, pulling me to her. “You do without even trying.”

This pleases me. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you too,” she says, reaching forward and slipping her hands into my pajama bottoms. I’m already hard for her again.

I swallow as she strokes me. Her eyes twinkle with want and need. My wife craves me.

“If you keep it up, I’ll fuck you right here on this counter,” I growl as she peppers soft kisses along my stomach. I fist my fingers in her hair.

“You’d be a whole lot cooler if you did,” she mutters against my lips as I pull down her bottoms. Autumn lifts her shirt, nipples hard as pebbles. With my arm around her waist, I move her closer, capturing her nipple and flicking it with my tongue. She moans out as she continues to stroke me, then she drops to her knees in front of me.

My perfect girl opens her mouth wide, taking me in.

“Careful,” I warn when she shoves me to the back of her throat. She looks up at me, greedily working me with her hands and her hot mouth.

“Show me,” I say, and she removes her shirt completely. Her titties bounce and I place my hand on the back of her head, gently guiding her down farther.

“Fuck,” I growl. If she keeps it up, I will fill her throat full of my hot, sticky cum. I desperately need inside of her.

She works me to the brink, and right before I come, I pull away, her lips popping. With hooded eyes, she bends forward, licking at the pool of pleasure that leaked from my tip.

“Not like this,” I whisper.

“It’s like you know what I want,” she says as she stands, wiggling out of her pants. When she touches her toes, she wiggles her perfect ass for me one more time.

Moments later, Autumn is bent over the counter with her bare titties against the marble as I tease her with the tip.

She whimpers, wanting me inside of her, but I tease and play in her juices. I love that my wife is always ready and wet for me.

“Zane,” she says, reaching between her legs and cupping my balls. I give her what she wants, slamming from the tip to the base of my rigid cock in one swift movement. I soak in her warmth, buried deep inside as she pulses around me. I let her body adjust as I stretch her wide.

When she rocks against me, I know my wife craves more, so I lift one of her thighs. I bite my lip, steadying myself on the counter.

She gets worked up so fucking fast, rocking her hips, chasing her high like a greedy addict. When I fuck her from behind like this, she squirts every single time, and I love that I help with that.

“You fill me so full,” she whispers as her tight little pussy squeezes around me.

I groan. “I’m going to ooze out of your beautiful fucking cunt.”

“Yes, yes,” she screams as we fuck like animals. Greedy, desperate. The sounds of pleasure echo through the quiet house.

We’re ravenous and addicted.

Leaning forward, I reach around, rubbing circles on her needy little clit as her tight pussy swallows me whole.

“How much inspiration do you want?” I tug on her hair and she arches into me.

She moans out my name. “As much as you’ll give me.”

“You want more?”

She nods. “I’ll never have enough of you.”

I sink my teeth into her shoulder and her breathing increases. “Come on my cock like a good fucking girl.”

She’s on her tiptoes, like she's suspended in the air as she tips over the edge, squirting all over my cock as I fuck her with fervor. Deep grunts release from her throat as her pussy pulses. She’s still coming, enjoying every second, and when I’m close, she arches her back. I empty deep inside of her, holding myself up on the counter, nearly going weak in the knees as the mind-blowing orgasm shatters through me.

Neither of us move. We’re breathless and completely wrecked.

“I love how you feel,” she breathes out, catching her breath as I wrap my arms around her stomach.

“You were made for me,” I whisper against her neck, softly kissing the thundering pulse point.

“I believe that,” she admits.

We break apart and she’s amazed by the mess we made. I’m not. Quickly, we clean up and she sits on the stool watching me.

“Coffee?” She smiles.

“Oh, right,” I say, completely forgetting we were in the middle of breakfast. I turn, pressing the button for the coffee.

She’s perfected putting me in a daze.

I set the first cup of joe in front of her before turning to make my own. On cue, she picks it up and immediately sips the hot-as-fuck liquid.

“You’ll never learn.”

“I was ensuring it didn’t taste like shit.” She shoots me a wink as I go back to mixing.

A howl of laughter releases from me as I click on the stovetop, heating the iron skillet. When it’s sizzling, I turn down the flame and put a spoonful of butter in the bottom. When it’s melted, I carefully pour the batter into palm-sized circles. Then, I wait.

Her eyes are on me. I can feel her gaze like it’s burning holes in my back. I glance over my shoulder at her. “Yes?”

“Seeing you cook for me is sexy,” she admits, her chin resting on her propped-up fist.

“Is it like a dream?” I ask, wondering.

“Every day with you is.”

When I’m finished, Autumn bursts into laughter at the leaning stack of twenty I prepared and somehow balanced.

“It’s too many!” she says.

“Have to keep my wife bred and fed. Butter and syrup?”

“Mm,” she nods, glowing. I take a second to admire her in the early morning sunlight as she loads her plate with pumpkin discs.

“What?” she whispers.

“You wake up pretty.”

A hint of a blush meets her cheeks as I move to the fridge and pantry, grabbing what we need.

“Fork?” she asks.

“You didn’t want to eat with your hands?” I ask, opening the drawer and snagging two.

“I did that about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Mm. Maybe we can do that again?”

As Autumn pours syrup on top of her pancakes, a knock sounds from the door.

“Expecting someone?” she asks.

“No,” I say, wishing I could see through the door. “Stay here.” I cross the living room, and when I twist the knob and pull it open, my smile fades.

“Nicolas.” His name comes out colder than the steadily dropping temperatures.

“This a better time?”

I breathe out, pushing the door closed and turning to Autumn.

“Sure,” she whispers with a cute shrug. Whatever I want, she'll support, but it’s too fucking early for confrontation.

“Come in.” I step to the side and his gaze immediately meets Autumn’s.

Autumn turns to him with bright eyes, swollen lips, and messy morning hair. She beams like a fucking angel. If it weren’t for Autumn…I don’t want to think about where I’d be.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Am I interrupting?” Nicolas asks, glancing back at me. The smell of pumpkin pancakes and coffee floats through the air. Happy energy encapsulated the house until he arrived.

Autumn shakes her head, sipping her espresso with a kind smile. “Not at all. Are you hungry? We have too many pancakes. It’s like fate,” she says.

“I wouldn’t impose,” he admits.

“Oh, come on.” She’s too nice. He doesn’t deserve her kindness. Or mine.

“Fine.” She shrugs. “Missing out.”

He glances at me. “I’ll come back later when you’re not in the middle of breakfast.”

“It’s okay. Let’s solve this now,” I tell him, wanting to get this over with now so I don’t have to deal with him again.

He sits at the end of the bar. It’s awkward, the tension thick.

“Coffee?” I ask.

“Uh.” He hesitates, and I hand him the cup I brewed for myself. “Fuck her. Drink the caffeine.”

We bonded over coffee a lot. It makes sense why Celine would force him to give it up, too. I see the cogs turning, the PTSD surrounding the mug.

“It’s delicious,” Autumn says, knowing exactly what kind of manipulation he went through.

Reaching into the cabinet, I grab another mug and make another. As the next shot brews, Autumn focuses on him.

“I’m Autumn,” she offers her hand, but he barely takes it. Smart, because I’ll break off his fucking fingers.

“My friends call me Nick. Or they used to.”

Autumn notices me tense and calms me with her soft gaze. She knows me. She can read me. It’s something she’s reminded me of a thousand times. While she seems too good to be true, she's not.

It’s a dig at me, one that’s deserved. He should be glad I’m even speaking his name because I didn't for a long time. This is the best I can do for now.

Awkwardness swells, but Autumn spikes it away.

“Nice to meet you, Nick. So, how do you two know each other?” Autumn is a sly little thing, knowing he’ll answer whatever she asks.

“Zane is—was—my best friend. Our parents were old friends and we went to boarding school together. Shared a lot of memories. The loss of our parents. Snowboarding. Frat parties. Corporate life.”

Before he takes a long ass stroll down memory lane, I stop him. “We shared a lot , apparently.”

He glances at the coffee in the mug. “I’m sorry.”

“Is that what you wanted to say? Needed to give me an apology so you could feel better about your fucked up choices?”

Nicolas shakes his head. “I hurt you. I betrayed my brother. And for what?”

“For mediocre pussy,” I remind him.

Autumn sucks in a deep breath and picks up her phone.

Moments later, mine buzzes. I roll my eyes, pulling it from my pocket.

Autumn

It’s hateful to kick someone when they’re down. Be thankful he did this. You would’ve never found me.

I sigh. So she types more.

Autumn

You wouldn’t have. Timing is everything!!!

Shit. I can read her firmness in the three exclamation points. I don’t respond and keep my exhales to myself as I allow her words to sink in.

“I’m sorry. I have a lot of pent-up frustration and anger toward you. My therapist has been helping, but it still doesn’t mean I don’t want to slam my fist into your fucking face,” I explain, grabbing my cup of coffee and sitting between him and Autumn.

“I deserve that.”

“No one deserves to be treated like shit,” Autumn says, meeting Nicolas’s eyes. “Are you keeping score, too? Is that what she does to men?”

She glances at me and it triggers a memory of us, one of the first ones we shared on the park bench. And she’s right. My anger is warranted, but violence is never the answer.

He’s living in his own personal Hell. I can see how she destroyed him. It's how she destroyed me, ruining how close Nicolas and I were.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. I wanted to tell you that I’m really fucking sorry for hurting you. You were my best friend, and I lost you in the worst possible way. No one was worth our friendship and I didn’t realize it until it was too late,” he says.

I take a sip of my coffee, amazed that he apologized, considering how goddamn stubborn he usually is. It’s not something I ever expected, and I know it took a lot for him to do that.

“Acknowledged and appreciated. But you’re right, I don’t think I can forgive you. And I don’t have to. Maybe one day I’ll be able to look back with fond memories, but that day isn’t today.” I’m firm in that decision. I have more to work through. Autumn doesn’t push anything, but she grabs my hand and squeezes it gently, respecting me.

He downs the liquid caffeine, and I wonder how long it’s been since he had a cup. “Thanks for giving me some of your time. Appreciate the coffee. Glad it didn't taste like shit.”

“You’re welcome,” I say as he stands and moves toward the door, a little less broken than he was when he walked in. And he leaves.

Silence lingers.

“I’m proud of you,” Autumn says, turning and wrapping her arms around me.

“Why?”

“Because you respectfully protected your boundaries.”

I kiss her forehead. “For a second, I thought you would tell me to forgive him.”

“That’s your decision. I don’t care if you do or don’t. You can be respectful and firm at the same time,” she admits. “So he's a Ristretto man, too?”

“You guessed it.”

She grins. “Can we eat now?”

“Mm.” I bite on my bottom lip.

“ Pancakes .”

Our knees touch as we cut into the warm bread, then take a big syrupy bite.

“Thank you for supporting me.”

“Same,” she says, glancing at the laptop. I know she’s thinking about her book, the one she was convinced a month ago she couldn’t write.

“What changed?” I ask.

She smiles. “I fell in love with you.”