25. Chapter Twenty-Five Epilogue

Several Years Later…

Rose

As Rip and I cross the threshold of the hidden room, I can't help but think about everything that has happened since the first night I met him. I stood in this doorway and spied a figure lying in this bed. His long beard revealed something magical had happened in this very place.

We fell hard and fast for each other and managed to put our pasts behind us so we could move forward together. Perhaps because we've both struggled so hard, we never feel guilty about how easy the past few years have been for us both. It's been a fairytale come true.

Our paintings have been met with both critical and financial success. My style is different from his, which is perfect because I'm now my own person in every way.

Sometimes we use the amulet to enhance our vision of the world around us. Mostly, though, we use our own abilities, needing no magical help to produce pleasing works of art that have grown more in demand as each day passes.

I'm especially happy that two of my sisters, Iris and Violet, broke away from the family a few years ago. By then, Rip and I were doing well enough that we were able to help them find apartments and set them up in a new business endeavor. They run a gallery in the nearby town where they help us sell our art. We've named the business Colorful Dreams.

Being instrumental in helping them break free and have productive lives feels like one of my greatest accomplishments.

I rub my barely-there baby bump, thinking how great it will be for our son or daughter to have two aunts nearby. We'll shower our child with so much love, I can't wait to welcome him or her into the new room we're building onto our cottage.

Bringing my thoughts to the present, I wonder what an innocent bystander would think looking at the two of us. We each have one arm around the other's waist, our other palm rubs our lips as we're deep in thought.

We'd look like bookends except for his coppery skin and long caramel hair, my fair skin and flaming red hair.

"Not much space left," he says ruefully as we inspect the walls of our secret room.

I shrug. "We could always repaint some of our older works.

By his harsh exhalation, you'd think I just suggested something horrendous, like chopping down our favorite willow out front.

"No. This is the last space on the walls in our secret room. We need to fill it wisely."

"You're right."

We love this windowless room. It's calm and cozy in here, but that's not the reason it holds a special place in our hearts. This is where my true love waited for me for a century.

We cherish both it and the amulet that made it happen. It's how we managed to find each other and create this magical relationship that fulfills us in every way.

After I'd relegated my family to my past and committed my future to Rip, we aired out this windowless room and painted the walls a happy pale yellow.

The room always had an arousing effect, so we bought a new mattress and began to have sex in here when the mood struck.

It seemed a natural extension of our relationship to paint these walls. Somehow, we never wanted to depict flora or fauna, though. Every painting that covers these walls is sexual in nature.

I can't stifle a giggle when I picture my parents having heart attacks if they were to see what we've drawn. I have to admit, not only would it make my parents apoplectic, this would have shocked the younger Rose to the roots of my hair.

Not today. Walking into this room always arouses me. It's like walking into a sensual pornography book.

"Me on my knees, my lips parted, my hand reaching to take your cock in my mouth?" I ask, gesturing to where I would be positioned and where he would be standing. Just the thought of it makes me hungry to taste him.

"I guess it would fit the space best, though I rather fancied the idea of painting me pounding you up against a wall, my hand gripping your wrists above your head. If we use the space properly, it could be a mirror image of what we actually do."

"Mmm," I say, suddenly losing my desire for painting and finding my desire to reprise the act he suggested.

"Or maybe," he continues thoughtfully, as though he"s just now having the idea, though I imagine it"s been circling his thoughts since we crossed the threshold, "you standing face toward the wall as I tug that beautiful red mane of yours? Hm?"

Rip grins roguishly, knowing all thoughts of painting have been replaced with ideas of a more sensual kind. "Let"s put the painting off for later. I think we have a better use for this room."

He turns me toward him, cups my ass cheeks, and presses his hard length against me, making me moan with need. My arousal surges through me like a wave.

"Yes," I whisper. "A much better use."