Epilogue
Four Years Later
Penny
For the fifth time since leaving the house, I question the wisdom of wearing these shoes, but I remind myself that my husband loves them. He bought them himself a few weeks ago for his birthday. Yes, the man gifted me a pair of sexy red stilettos and lingerie for his birthday. It's safe to assume that he loves these heels.
Well, safer to assume that he loves them more pressed against his back as takes me against whatever surface he can get me on.
"Okay, you're doing this," I sigh, hugging the steering wheel before talking myself into stepping out of the car. My legs are shaky as I close the door behind me, and yet again, I question why I have to do this in six-inch heels. I'm way too nervous to be walking around in these shoes.
Despite my nerves, I push forward into the empty garage. I made sure to wait until everyone had left the shop to grab lunch, and now it's empty except for my husband, whose head is buried under the hood of a car.
I stop to stare, taken back to the first time I met him. That was four years ago, and now, we're married with a two-year- old boy. My mother offered to babysit for the day so I could surprise my husband at work. After her divorce from Jonah, she and I attended counseling together. A lot of tears, apologies, and shared heartache brought us back together. She is fiercely protective of our little boy, and he adores her right back.
Christ, time moves fast when you are happy and in love.
The first day I walked into the garage, I was nervous, but then my eyes locked on the man working on a red truck. He didn't notice me at first, and I could have left with him none the wiser, but there was this pull I felt to him.
It's the same pull that has me walking toward my husband now, all the nerves gone as I approach him. I stop next to him, and just like the first time we met, his eyes move to my feet before trailing up the rest of my body and settling on my face.
He looks the same as he did back then, it's practically Déjà vu.
"What do we have here?" he whistles, his eyes turning heated as he grabs a rag and wipes the grease from his fingers. He rakes his eyes over my body, lingering on the heels, and I bite back a grin. So predictable. "Are you lost, miss?"
Christ, four years married to this man and he still makes me nervous with his ocean-blue eyes and that handsome face he generously passed on to our son.
"I . . . um, my car broke down. I don't know what's wrong with it. The AC is broken and the engine keeps making a weird noise."
"Well, we can't have a pretty lady like you driving around a faulty car," he says thickly, eyes brimming with mischief as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me flush against him. "But how do you intend to pay me to fix your car?"
I flutter my eyelashes at him, fingering the zipper of his coveralls. "I don't have any money. Is there anything else I can give you as payment?"
"You bent over this car with my cock buried deep inside of you."
I gasp in horror. "B-but . . . I've never done anything like that before."
"I'll be gentle," he promises a second before his mouth drops to mine, and just like that, I forget what it is that brought me here. Whatever it is, I can't think with my husband's tongue buried in my mouth and my fingers tugging hard at his coveralls to reach his skin. I pull at the T-shirt he has on underneath, moaning in relief when my fingers connect with his firm stomach. "Fuck, baby, it's almost like you knew I was thinking about you," he grinds out, his hands dropping to my ass as he lifts me to the hood of the car next to the one he was working on.
"You were thinking about me?" I kiss his jaw and neck as he runs his hands all over my body.
"I'm always thinking about you, angel," he says, and I melt into a puddle. Years of living with and loving this man, and still, I blush every time he gives me a compliment, which is all the time.
"We can't do this here, Ray. What if someone walks in on us like your poor apprentice did a few weeks ago, or worse, a customer?" I ask when he works his hands under my dress, gasping when he grabs my panties and yanks them down my thighs.
"They'll just have to turn around and walk away because I am not stopping," he growls, shoving my knees open. "Or they can stay and watch me eat my wife's pussy."
That is all the warning he gives me before he drops to his knees. Ray grabs my knee and brings it to his shoulder before dipping his face between my legs. I fall back against the car with a cry when I feel his hot tongue trace the valley of my wet sex. He reaches up and squeezes my braless tits with his greedy palms as he laps at my arousal, and all I can do is thrash about from the pleasure overload.
"Ray . . . Oh God!" I sob, my hands spearing into his hair and pulling him closer to my sex, riding his face until my body is practically trembling. My pussy clenches around his needy tongue, needing more. I need to feel him inside of me, filling me, stretching me. And like with everything else between us, I don't have to voice my desires for him to know what I need.
Ray pulls back, licking at his lips as he tugs his coveralls down to reveal his boxers. My eyes follow his movements as he takes out his massive cock. "You feel different," he rasps, taking his place between my legs. He grabs my waist and pulls me to the edge of the car, pressing his hard shaft against my pulsing sex. "I don't know why I didn't notice this before, but you feel different."
"What?" I whisper dazedly, squirming against him when he doesn't move, practically begging for his cock.
"I know your body better than I know the parts of a car," he says, chuckling when I wrap my arms around his shoulders and writhe needily against his cock. Why does he want to have a conversation now? And why is he even talking about cars when my body is drawn taut with need?
"Ray!" I whine, which quickly turns into a whimper when he slowly sinks into me. "Oh!" I dig my nails into his arms when he starts thrusting into me, slowly at first before he starts pounding into me in rough, unmeasured moves.
"You're so fucking wet, baby. Fuck, you're dripping all over my cock."
I feel it too. I've been horny from the second I walked into the garage and saw my husband. "Harder, Ray, please," I beg, dropping my lips to his neck and kissing him anywhere I can reach.
"Mine," he growls, wrapping his arms tightly around me before he starts slamming into me, faster and harder, like he can't get deep enough. It's an assault on my senses just how feral he moves, almost as if he is possessed, and I love every minute of it. "I love you, Penny. Always you."
His words send me jerking hard against him. My sex cinches tightly around his shaft, and I drop my head to his shoulder with a sob as the orgasm—as the man—wrecks me. He rocks hard into me until he too is coming, his voice hoarse against my skin, hugging me tight to him as he spills into my pulsing sex and I take all of him.
His body is hot against mine and his breathing is just as heavy as we slowly descend back to earth. "I know what's different about you," he says, rocking his still-hard cock slowly into me, rekindling the fire. "Your boobs, they're bigger, and you are way hornier than usual."
"Hmm," I hum.
"Penny." His voice is quiet, and when he pulls back to look at me, his eyes are wide with surprise. "Angel, tell me . . ."
"What?"
My mind is foggy as I stare at my husband, trying to make sense of why he's talking instead of making love to me. Again.
"Penny, are you pregnant?" My eyes widen, and I remember how nervous I've been since I found out. God, this is why I came here in the first place. I wore the stilettos and his favorite perfume, ready to share the news with him, but I got sidelined. "Fuck, baby, is that why you came by? To tell me?"
"Surprise," I offer weakly, clenching around his cock that's still inside me, the fire in me burning hotly.
Ray wraps his arms tightly around my body and drops his head to my neck. "You have no idea how happy you've made me, angel. How proud. I can't . . . I can't even say it."
"Show me?" I offer.
"I'll show you, all right," he says seconds before he rocks my world the same way he did the first time.
~The End
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