Epilogue

TYLER

One Year Later

T he amount of clothes Natalie deems necessary for ten days in Milan is insane. My eyes pass over an assortment of dresses, bathing suits, designer pieces, and my God the shoes. She needs at least three suitcases while I can fit everything I need into a single checked bag.

"Babe, you need to get these clothes into the luggage. Our car will be here in a few minutes. I don't want to be late and miss the plane. Like last time," I mumble the last sentence, but she still manages to hear it.

"I made us late once, ONE time, and you'll never let me forget it." She laughs as she rolls out a single bag of luggage.

"That's it?" I ask her, surprised to see her dialing her wardrobe down.

"This is all we need. It's fashion week and I'll be working for most of it. Do you have your itinerary set? Designers you're supposed to meet with. I have your appointments for fittings and rehearsals set. It should be in your email."

I step closer to her, pulling her in close to capture her mouth. My tongue swipes over hers, making my cock hard just thinking about fucking her tender pussy on the plane.

"No. We're going to be late, remember?" She pulls away, playfully hitting me on the chest to back out of my grasp.

I practically snarl as her refusal ignites something primal in me. "You know what you do to me when you say that magical word."

"Tyler, we really don't have time." She laughs and pushes away from me, but I refuse to let her go.

"Let's see if we can make up the time on the way. I'll pay the driver extra to break the speed limit." I laugh.

Natalie reaches into the pocket of her perfectly fit pair of jeans, hugging the curves of her soft hips. She puts the phone and its large display of the time directly in my face.

"We can't be late. I have a meeting with a few magazine editors looking to include you in their spread for specific designers throughout the week. I should have booked you as talent instead of management a long time ago. You're my most successful client, Tyler. Thank you. I know?—"

I stop her from giving me the 'I'm grateful' speech because it's not necessary.

"Natalie, you let me fuck you every which way I can. You drug me, electrocute me, and don't judge or call the police in some instances." That gets a laugh out of her, so I continue. "We're practically made for each other. None of this would be happening if you didn't fire me, and if I didn't stay fired."

She sighs, relenting on giving me her speech, and settling for a few words. "I love you, Tyler."

"I love you too, Natalie. Now, come on. Let's get out of here so I can fuck the shit out of you on the plane and make everyone jealous."

She shoves me playfully. "I'm bringing my gag just for that reason."

"I love it when you talk dirty." I rub my thumb over her lips. "Or, when you can't talk at all. This is going to be great."

We leave the large beach house we share overlooking the Pacific to head toward LAX. The past year has been a whirlwind for my career since I took Chanel's place in Natalie's roster of clients.

It started off as a joke after my third week of looking for work. Natalie sent me in as a replacement for a shoot she lined up for Chanel and the rest is history. Being a model is the last thing I see myself doing, but it's one of the greatest decisions of my life. Living this life with Natalie as my manager and lover is just the icing on the cake. I could tell her how much more grateful I am to her than she should be to me, but I plan on showing her.

My future is nothing without her and I don't have plans of coming back from Italy without making her my wife. I don't know how I got so fucking lucky.