Epilogue
Four months later…
Axelle
“Axelle, don’t.”
I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing hysterically at Killian as he tries, once again, to tell me what to do. I can’t see his eyebrows behind his sunglasses, but the tanned skin of his forehead is pinched in irritation, his lips held in a tight line that only makes me want to kiss him until they soften beneath mine.
“Kill, relax.”
He swivels his head from left to right and back again as if the power of his thoughts could make everyone on this St. Tropez beach disappear before I do something stupid.
“It’s my birthday and we’re in Southern France!” I toss my crocheted beach bag onto the chic lounger the hotel has set up on the beach. When Kill said he was taking me on a trip for my birthday, I expected extravagance. I did not expect a Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous European vacation worthy of rock gods and Hollywood royalty: everything from the travel pods on our first-class flight to hotels where the bed sheets probably cost more than I make in a year. He’s left me wanting for nothing.
Well, except this.
“No.” He practically stomps his flip-flop-clad foot into the sand before he drops to the lounger, pouting. “I’ll lose my shit, Ax, I swear to God.”
He’s adorable all the time, but when his big ole body is slumped over and he’s sulking, he’s irresistible. I step between his open legs and pull his head to my stomach. “Kill…” His arms wrap around me to lock around my thighs. “You’re being ridiculous.” I hold back the giggle that threatens to burst free and run my fingers through his hair until he loosens up. “It’s just a bikini.”
“It’s hardly a bikini.”
“In France you’re supposed to be free with your body. Besides, all the important parts are covered.”
“When you showed it to me this morning, you swore you’d keep your shorts on in public.” The whine in his voice is more than I can handle, and I lose the battle with my laughter.
“Right before you stripped it off me and made love to me on the ice-cold marble countertop.”
He sighs then tilts his head back to look up at me. “Yeah.”
I push his sunglasses off his face to prop them on his head. His eyes are practically glinting with that internal struggle between giving me freedom and protecting me. “I got the bikini specifically for this experience. I mean, when will we ever be in St. Tropez again?”
“I’ll bring you back every year if you promise to keep those shorts on this ass.” He cups and squeezes my backside then groans and drops his forehead to my stomach.
“I didn’t let you train me, grunt through an hour of weight lifting and one-hundred squats a day for the last thirty days, to keep my booty covered up in St. Tropez.”
His shoulders drop in defeat. He knows I’m right. He also knows I’m going to do it anyway, but because I love him, I’ll give him the chance to come to terms with it before I completely piss him off. It’s a routine we’ve fallen into that seems to work well.
“When you become a McCreery, will you start listening to me?”
The mention of my future last name brings my eyes to the single princess-cut diamond set in platinum on my ring finger. He proposed three days ago at the Eiffel Tower, surrounded by candlelight, thanks to the prep work of Fleur and the boys. It was the single most romantic moment of my entire life, and even though the ring has only been on my finger for days, it feels as if it’s part of me.
“You mean will I be a good little obedient wife?” I rake my nails along his scalp, and his answering groan vibrates in his chest. “Not on your life.”
“Fine.” He drops a kiss to my belly and pushes himself back to recline. “But if anyone stares too long, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and locking you in our room until you come to your senses.”
My stomach tumbles at the threat in his words. I know exactly what he’ll do to convince me, and having Kill’s hands and mouth all over my body gives me a moment of pause. “So you’re saying this is a win-win for me.”
Finally, the corner of his mouth lifts in a half smile. “Can’t deny the birthday girl.” He pulls his T-shirt up over his head, and my mouth goes dry. No matter how many times I’ve seen him naked, I always get the butterflies as if it’s the first. His pecs contract as he balls up his shirt and tosses it to my beach bag. And he’s worried about me? Kill’s body is like a dinner bell to the female gender, calling not only eyes but shameless flirting, which he’s great at ignoring.
I turn my back on him and pull the drawstring on the cute linen shorts I bought while shopping with Fleur in Paris last week.
I wanted to hate her—I really did—but she’s one of those girls who’s impossible to dislike. I mean unless she’s kissing the love of my life, which she hasn’t done since Kill and I became official. She’s funny, and I get the feeling that if we lived closer we’d be great friends. And for a girl who hangs out with dudes all day, she has amazing taste in clothes.
With a little wiggle, I push the shorts down over my hips, and the rumble of a growl sounds at my back. I shake my head and do a quick knee bend to snag the fabric from the sand rather than an at-the-waist bend that’ll only irritate Killian more.
“So?” I turn and toss my shorts on the lounger then prop my hands on my hips and strike a pose. “What do you think?”
I already know what he thinks. He made it clear when I showed him the suit in the privacy of our room, but I’m hoping that, however indecent he felt my uber-expensive designer suit was then, he’s seeing now it’s not as bad as he thought.
It has a black triangle top with gold band embellishments at the ties. The bottoms are also black, but at the back, gold beads make a triangle pattern right above where the fabric disappears between the cheeks of my overly-toned and spray-tanned ass.
“Fuck, Ax!” He grabs a nearby towel that’s been rolled and placed on each lounger. With a quick whip of his wrist, he shakes it out and places it over his hips. “You’re killing me,” he says through clenched teeth.
I shake my head at my incredibly protective, gorgeous, and sexy fiancé then put a knee to the lounger and crawl between his legs, pressing my body to his sun-warmed chest to rest my head on his shoulder. “Thank you.”
He tosses one side of the long towel over my ass, making me laugh. “You thank me like I had a choice.” His voice sounds less tense, and his arms slide around me. “You were gonna do it anyway.”
“Yeah.” I sigh and nuzzle his throat. “But that’s not what I’m thanking you for.”
“It’s just money, Ax. It’s your birthday, baby.” He kisses the top of my head. “You deserve so much more. I plan on showing you just how much more for as long as we live.”
I hum against his collarbone and kiss him there until he shivers. “I loved you when we were poor, Kill. As much as I’ve enjoyed these last ten days, I’d have loved them just as much if we were backpacking and sleeping in hostels.”
“Is that right?” He’s skeptical, rightly so. I’ve really been enjoying this life of luxury. Who wouldn’t?
“Well, yeah.” I peek up at him. “But even still, that’s not what I was thanking you for.”
He doesn’t ask for more but sets those whiskey-colored eyes on mine, asking the silent question.
“Thank you for never giving up on me.”
“Ax—”
I press my finger to his lips. “I’m serious. I was looking so hard for something, and you were there offering it to me for all those years. You stood by while I dated other guys. I…” I think of all the epic fuckups he had to stand by and witness, all the times I took my anger out on him just because he was available, made him pay for the sins of every man who walked away with a piece of my heart. “I don’t know if I would’ve been strong enough to have done the same—to have been there while you burned through countless women. How did you do it? I wasn’t always nice to you, and you never gave up on me.”
He hooks my chin and brings my lips to his. “Because I love you.”
“Is it that simple?”
“Nothing between us has ever been simple, but the choice to be there for you was. It still is.”
I understand that now because I love Killian and have let go of all my hang-ups, all the voices that were telling me I wasn’t what he needed or what he deserved. But the choice to stand by him through everything life brings—his fighting, the traveling, the press, the rumors, the women—is simple. I’ll never leave his side, no matter what.
Pushing up to my elbows, I tilt my head to sink into a delicious kiss that has my toes curling as I rub myself against him. “I can’t wait for the rest of our lives, Killian. I’m going to make you so happy.” I dip in for another soft kiss, speaking against his lips. “Make it so you never regret choosing me.”
He smiles against my lips. “Love your determination, but that’s not necessary. I’ve got the sexiest woman alive stretched out against me. Her love, her loyalty, that’s all I need—just you.” He runs the tip of his tongue along my lower lip. “Now behave, or I’ll slip that tiny piece of fabric between your legs to the side and we’ll show the people of St. Tropez just how free with our bodies we can be.”
I drop my forehead to his neck and force back the instant lust his words evoke. It’s nearly impossible to keep our hands off each other when we’re fully clothed, and something about the sun, sand, and skin combo heightens my desire—the hardening evidence between his legs only making it worse.
“You’re right.” I take a few calming breaths and then turn to move, only to have him grip me and pull me back so that I’m sitting between his legs.
“Not yet. I need, uh…a minute.”
Fine by me; being surrounded by Killian is not a hardship. I lean back against his chest and wave over a beach attendant who takes our orders for two ridiculously fruity drinks from the bar. We sit for a while, allowing the sound of the surf to lull us into a comfortable silence. He absently runs his fingertips along my bare belly, drawing patterns that bring goose bumps to the surface.
In the distance, I watch a couple at the water’s edge, hand in hand and talking about something only the other can hear. The sight before would’ve made me want to vomit in my mouth, but now I— My body stiffens when the woman turns around.
“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” Killian’s words are growled against my neck.
I smile. Big. “Oh, I have to now.”
“Not a fucking chance in hell, Ax.”
“But—”
“No.”
“It’s—”
“No!”
I lick my lips, and excitement explodes in my chest. “You’re right.” I scoot away from him, hoping he doesn’t catch my bluff. “Phew, it’s hot out.”
“Ax…” Uh-oh…he’s using his warning tone.
I stifle a giggle. “I’m going to go get my feet wet.”
“Axelle Rose Daniels, I swear to God if you—”
I take off running. A howl of laughter born deep in my gut bursts from my lips and electrifies the air. “I have to!”
“Dammit to hell.”
I can hear his powerful footfalls in the sand behind me as I work frantically to untie my top. “I just want to be free!”
“Don’t do it!”
“I have to!” My words are incoherent through my laughter as my feet hit the water.
“Axelle, no—”
But it’s too late. The strings fall from my body, and the sun’s heat hits my bare breasts. “I’m free—omph!”
Solid weight slams into me from behind. Warm arms wrap around me. Hands cup my breasts. I shriek when I become air-born. Flipped. I land backwards into the ocean with Killian to cushion the fall. He brings me to the surface, and I’m sputtering for air, but not from the water, from the laughing.
His arms, hands, and body stay in place as he vibrates with laughter too.
“You’re too…fast…” I suck in air and allow him to take most of my weight as we stand waist deep in water, our backs toward the beach.
His breath is hot against my neck. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Sure you can.” I push wet strands of hair from my face.
“I’m taking you back to the room now.”
I press my palms over his hands still cupping my breasts. “It’s okay, you big party pooper. I’ll put my top back on. Besides, I’ve heard sunburned nipples are a bitch.”
“That’s not why. Watching your ass when you took off running did me in, Ax.” He groans and flexes his hips into my ass. “I need you.”
I gasp at the desperation in his voice and marvel at how it matches my own. “Okay, Kill.” I wrap an arm up and behind me to pull his head down for a kiss that leaves us both breathless. “You can’t walk me back to the beach like this.” I motion to his hands on me. “I’ll keep myself covered.”
“I don’t trust you. Wanting to be free and shit, fuck… Next trip we’re going to Pennsylvania to shack up with the Amish.”
I wiggle free, and he’s forced to release me, but I quickly cover myself with my own hands. His eyes flare. “That’s even worse.” He looks behind him at my top lying abandoned on the beach then turns me back towards the horizon. “Stay.”
“I love you, Killian McCreery,” I yell over my shoulder as he jogs to get my top.
“You’re a pain in my ass, but I love you too.”
THE END