Authors: Julia Swift
M
ontreal
, as it turns out, is an adorable city. An adorable, welcoming, warm, friendly open city, with plenty of rental options available in our now-much-extended budget, thanks to the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Gage rents a townhouse in the historical district, behind the city walls, on a cobblestone street, where the apartments and houses are all covered in climbing ivy, built from stone, warm and cozy in the chilly spring evenings.
Freddie, for his part, likes a suburb close to the city, but not quite within the wall. His apartment is modern, very pretty with its hardwood floors and brand new appliances. But it’s a little cold for my taste.
So I went with Gage.
Not that there was really much choice there. Part of me always knew, from the moment we survived our ordeal, that it would be him. Fate brought us together, and our persistence kept us together despite the storm of problems the world threw at us.
I think about that now, as I pace through the rooms of our new residence. Gage ran out for groceries and to drop off an application at an auto body shop down the road that’s hiring. I guess he knows a thing or two about cars, having kept them as a hobby. Now that he’s not tied into working for a sketchy creep, he can finally do something he actually enjoys.
I smile and trace my hands over the sun-drenched kitchen counter. It’s got an eat-in table, and connects to an equally sunny living room, with a huge bedroom in the back, a skylight overhead so at night you can lie there and look up at the stars between the two big oak trees on either side of the house. We’ve only been here a month, yet already it feels more like home than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.
Possibly the way we broke it in helped. I pause at the entrance to the living room, glancing at the big balcony overlooking the backyard, and remember the time a couple days after we got here, when Gage bent me over that, thrusting into me from behind, so hard I couldn’t help crying out as I came, which earned us a few good-natured shouts from the neighbors.
I think we’ve had sex in every single room of the house by now, with the possible exception of the coat closet. Hmm. We could try to fix that.
My mind drifts off into daydreams, which is why I don’t hear at first when the front door opens. I’m walking back into the kitchen when a pair of strong arms catch my waist and swing me onto the counter. I gasp, but only in faux-shock, because Gage is already necking kisses along my weak spot, right at the crook of my neck, and hell, I can’t resist him when he’s like this.
Who would want to?
“Good trip to the store?” I ask with an eyebrow raised, grinning down at him from my newfound perch on the counter.
“I got the job. At the shop.” He grins up at me, so open and carefree that I laugh too, and dip down to press a kiss to his lips.
“That’s great, babe.”
“Starting tomorrow. So, I won’t be here to bother you as much, sadly.” He squeezes my ass with one hand, tight enough to make me yelp.
“However will I survive?” I respond with a smirk.
“Mm, well, we’ll just need to make up for lost time. In advance.” He leans into me, pressing me down along the counter, my back digging into it. I wrap my legs around his waist and grin up at him.
“What did you have in mind?”
His hands slide up my skirt, wrinkling it up around my waist. “I think it might be better if I show you.”
“Hmm. That seems acceptable.” I smirk at him.
Without warning, he flips me over, landing a sharp smack on my ass. I cry out, and he leans over me to press his body along mine, his heat radiating along my spine. I squirm against the counter, but he pins me with his weight and traces both hands over my ass, making me shiver with anticipation.
“Acceptable. Is that it?” Without warning, his palm slaps my bare ass cheek, hard. I cry out.
“Maybe . . . a little more than acceptable?” I flash him a grin over my shoulder.
He pins me to the counter with two firm, strong hands. “Oh, I think we can do better than that.” The hard bulge of his cock presses into my pussy, right at my clit, and I burn with desire for him. But as he unzips his jeans, and lets his cock trace over each of my ass cheeks, taking his slow, sweet time, and then dragging his length along my slit, from my clit all the way up to the cleft of my ass and then slowly back down, I start to pant, unable to contain myself.
“Someone’s eager,” he murmurs, with a restrained laugh in his voice. “Don’t you want to know what I had planned?” His hand drops, almost absently, to grip my hip. Work its way slowly across my body, toward my swollen, eager pussy.
“Does it involve you fucking me right now?” I reply, my voice breathy with want.
“Mm, somewhat.” His hand reaches my clit, swirls around it, his finger never quite touching the central spot, driving my crazy nonetheless. I rock against the counter trying to press him against me, but that only earns me another sharp slap on the rear.
“Ah, ah. Patience.” He’s grinning. I don’t need to see his face to be able to hear the smirk in his voice.
God, I hate when he gets like this.
And by hate. I mean I love it.
I sigh deeply. “If you’re not going to—ohhh,” I break off, as he presses something deep into my wet pussy.
Something, not his finger, or his cock, which I can still feel digging into my bare ass cheek.
I glance down at myself, and realize he’s gotten a dildo, slicked up with lube, the size of his cock, and he’s gently gliding it in and out of me now, in a slow rhythm. I grit my teeth, and suppress a shudder of pleasure.
As he starts to pick up the pace, driving it deeper into me, I gasp, and he bends over me, one hand fished in my hair. He leans close to my ear, his voice deep and feral. “Don't worry. You’ll get me too.”
I feel his warm, rock-solid cock brush over my bare ass, and this time I can't help the shiver of anticipation that runs through me, a mixture of nerves and excitement that puts me even higher on edge. Right here, bent over like this, I am his to do with as he pleases, and I could not enjoy more the sensation of giving myself up to him.
His cock slides between my ass cheeks, leaving a wet trail of lube between them, as he presses at my rear entrance. Gently at first, then harder, harder, and I gasp, trying to relax, which is hard when he's still fucking me with the dildo, brushing over my G-spot every couple of strokes and making me clench around it.
I take a deep breath and let myself go, giving up to him completely. He presses into me now, an inch at a time, every inch of his cock making me feel stuffed to the brim, and yet he keeps coming, until I cry out from the rush of sensations.
God.
I've never felt anything like this before. My head swims as he finally drives the full way into my ass, and he pumps the dildo into me again, his thumb flicking over my clit. It takes every ounce of control I possess not to come right there, that second.
I hold on, wanting to let this build. And oh, god, build it does.
This is what I want. Him, taking me, completely. This is where I belong. This is what I had been missing, all the time I never knew I was missing a thing.
He fucks me slowly at first, then harder, driving deep into my ass. He drags the dildo across my G-spot and I can't hold it in any longer, the orgasm shatters through me, making me scream his name. He keeps going, leaves the dildo stuffed in me, grabs my hips in his right fists and thrusts hard into me. I press back at him, straining against his thrusts, and in a few more quick, deep drives, he groans my name, his cum shooting deep into my ass, a warm rush of hot pleasure.
“Sloane.”
He leans across my back, panting, and a rush of satisfaction piles on top of the orgasm that's still echoing through me. I love making him do that. Call my name out, like he's just as helpless to resist me as I am him.
Six Months Later
Gage
L
ong day at the shop
. Productive, and busy, which meant that the time seemed to fly by, but now, as I trudge home, I’m suddenly aware of how much time has passed, and how much I’ve been running around like a maniac since I arrived for my shift at ten this morning. At this point, I’m looking forward to collapsing with Sloan on the couch, maybe catching up on the latest couple episodes of that show she got me hooked on, which I haven’t had time to watch since my boss took on a whole boatload of new clients and things hit the fan there.
I wipe sweat from my brow as I reach our house—who knew Canada in late summer would still be so warm?—and hesitate at the door. That’s weird. There’s a little ribbon tied around the doorknob. I untie it and twist the yellow ribbon around my finger, confused.
Must be some kind of neighborhood thing? Our neighbors are all incredibly nice here—to the point where I’ve had to resist telling them how stereotypically Canadian they seem. But it’s a relief, after everything we went through. To finally be somewhere that we know is safe. Somewhere we know isn’t full of the kind of assholes we had to live with previously.
I push open the door, blinking in the dark interior of the house. That’s weird. Normally Sloan is home from the pre-school where she works half-days by now, and already bustling around making cookies or decorating or forcing me to try some weird new dinner dish she’s concocted (most of which, to be fair, are really damn delicious).
“Sloan?” I ask, my voice echoing slightly in our foyer.
That’s when arms latch around my neck, and a familiar warm body presses against my side, her lips snaking up my neck. I tilt my head down to kiss her hard, smiling when we break apart. “What’s up?” I ask, as she squeezes my ass.
Mm. That makes me want to do all kinds of things to her right now. Press her up against the staircase, bend her over the balcony, or . . . hell, we haven’t had sex in the coat closet since that time I tried tying her hands over her head to the racket, and we wound up breaking the kitchen chair. That could be a good one to try again.
My mind drifts so far into fantasy mode that it takes me a moment to notice she’s tugging on my arms.
“What’s going on?”
“I’ve got a surprise for you.” The telltale shimmer of anticipation in her voice is the cutest, sexiest damn thing I’ve ever heard. I trail after her without protest—I mean, who wouldn’t?—into the kitchen and let her push me down onto one of the stools by the counter. There’s something on the counter, though I can’t make it out in the dim light, with all the overheads turned off like she has them.
“Ready?” she asks, and my attention snaps back to her. My attention always does that. Always will, probably.
“Always,” I tell her.
She flicks on the light, blinding me for a second, and when my vision clears, the first thing I see is the huge, excited, almost borderline nervous smile plastered on her face. But her eyes aren’t on me. They’re on the counter beside us. On the thing I glimpsed before, with the lights off.
I blink a few times, my eyes still adjusting to the light. It’s a slim white stick, like a popsicle stick, only all white, and thicker.
Oh god.
I pick it up with trembling fingers, and read the tiny, barely legible screen. It’s just a little window with a hot pink plus sign running through the center.
I can hardly breathe, but I make myself force words out. “Sloan, is this . . . is this what I think it is?”
She’s nodding, but almost shyly, her eyes downcast, like she’s nervous. Like she’s afraid how I’ll react to this, almost. “I’m pregnant, Hunter,” she whispers, and my heart jumps about a thousand percent in my chest.
I leap off the stool and fold her into my arms, squeezing her so tight I’m surprised she can still breathe, but I can’t help it. I kiss her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her mouth. She pulls back a little, her lips turned into a frown, hesitant.
“Are you okay? Is this okay, are you mad, or?” Her breath hitches, her shoulders tensing.
I knead my fingers into them to work out the knots, then run my hands through her long, dark hair. “Sloan. Babe. I could not be happier.”
She looks up at me then, hope in her eyes. “Really?”
I have to laugh. “Yes, really. Why wouldn’t I be? You are everything, Sloan.” I let my hand drift down her body to rest over her stomach, cupping her gently, feeling the warmth of her skin burn into mine. “And now, this baby is too.” I know I must be grinning like a goddamn idiot right now, but I can’t help it.
A father. I’m going to be a father.
With Sloan. With the woman of my dreams. The woman I knew I had to make mine from the moment I laid my eyes on her. “Part of me is in you.” I press another kiss to her lips. “And part of you is in me. And together, we’re going to make a damn awesome kid, you know that?”
She laughs and tightens her grip around me, melting into my embrace. “I can’t argue there,” she murmurs. Then she leans back and tilts her lips up to find mine, our tongues tangling together for a moment as we savor the news together, the future that we’re now facing, the fresh new life we’ve created, which I will do everything in the world to keep safe.
“Hunter.” Her eyes are on mine, and I gaze into hers, unable to look away. I could watch her every minute of every day, and I would never be able to drink in enough of her. “I love you.”
“And I love you, Sloan.” I kiss her lips again, those perfect lips, pressing every inch of them against my mouth. “Forever.”
We break apart wearing matching mischievous grins, and before she says a word, I already know what she’s thinking. I tug her toward the bedroom, and we fall into step together, as in sync as any two humans could ever be.
This. This is all I’ve ever needed in the world.
M
y amazing
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