EPILOGUE

November 2013

JAMES MAYSON STOOD AT the foot of his bed and watched his wife sleeping. His heart thundered in his chest as he took in the light purple slip of material she called a nightgown. Even after twenty-eight years, Susan still had the ability to stop James dead in his tracks.

Blood pumped rapidly through his veins as he toured the contours of her body, her full breasts defying the lace of her gown. Christ, but he loved this woman. Loved her more than the day they’d married on this very farm. Loved her more than his sons, if that was possible. He was proud of the men they’d become, would bleed for them if need be. But Susan? James didn’t want to expel a single breath in this world without his Susan in it. Knew if she passed before him, they might as well bury him beside her.

He would never recover from the loss.

Raising his arm, James grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it from his body, tossing it at the end of the bed. Then his boots came off, and his jeans followed. He’d been hard since Susan had sent him that fucking image, and he planned to work off his frustration on her body. Putting a knee to the bed, James crawled between her legs, pushing the silky fabric up as he went. Then he opened her legs, saw she was bare to him, then dipped his head and feasted on her velvet skin, drinking in the honey taste of her.

He knew the minute Susan woke up. Her hands tangled in his hair and her sweet pussy rubbed against his mouth in a frantic rhythm as she whimpered, “Baby.”

“Swear to Christ, I’ll never get enough of you.” And he proved it by spreading her wider until he could sink his tongue into her slick heat. “You ready for me?” he rumbled low against her flesh, then worked her clit over until she cried out his name in release, coming for him within minutes of his touch, like always.

Her passion for him had never waned in all their years together, and neither had his. He wanted to bury himself deep inside her often and did so with frequency.

Once she’d melted into the bed, James moved up her body until he found a pebbled nipple through the lace on her bodice and pulled it into his mouth, nipping the sensitive bud with his teeth. Susan arched her back, gasping when he moved the fabric to the side and drew deeply on her breast.

“I take it you liked my present.”

“Like what’s in it better,” he mumbled against her skin.

“Even if I have a double chin and hips that won’t slim down?”

James paused his attention to her breasts and looked up at her. “I’ll pretend I didn’t just hear my woman say she thinks she’s fat. ‘Cause I’d be fuckin’ pissed if you lost one ounce of your curves.”

She bit her lip.

James sighed. “Where’s this comin’ from?”

“I had a walk down memory lane tonight and clearly remember bein’ thinner.”

James raised a brow. “And I clearly remember not bein’ able to keep my hands off of you for the past twenty-eight years, so your point is moot.”

“Moot?”

He was not getting drawn into a conversation about her being overweight when most of the men his age, and even younger, fantasized about his wife. A point that pissed him off, especially when he caught them watching her sweet ass when she walked away.

“Are we fuckin’ or what?” James growled.

Her eyes softened. “I think Asher’s found his BOOM!”

James sighed, nodding. “I suspected as much.”

“By the way, I told November you asked me out for two months and I said no each time until you wore me down and I finally said yes.” She rushed out her explanation so quickly James barely kept up.

A slow grin crept across his mouth. “Did I get lucky on the first date in this version of events?”

Susan rolled her eyes, and James immediately took her mouth, kissing the fire back into their cooled bodies, then slid inside her, groaning deep in his chest when she clamped tightly around his cock.

“I will want this body until the day I die,” James stated, rolling his hips. “I love your fuckin’ hips and ass.”

“Even when I’m a grandmother?” she gasped, arching her back.

“’Til the day I take my last breath.”

“Such a Casanova,” Susan smiled, raking her nails down his back.

He grinned, rolling his hips again until she dug her claws in, making him groan. “You my good girl?”

Susan bit her lip, then ground down on his cock, tightening her muscles. “Oh, yeah.”

Twenty-eight years and four sons, yet she still made him feel like he was twenty-six.

Rolling to his back, James brought Susan with him, keeping his hand on her hips. She rose and fell in a practiced rhythm, milking his cock with each downward thrust until both were panting with need. When he felt her climax rising, James knifed up, grabbed her shoulders, and drove deep inside her silken heat until her head fell back and she cried out. Then, with a final thrust, James buried his cock deep and exploded, crushing his mouth to hers so he could drink in her moans.

Sated, James fell to the mattress, pulling Susan with him, then tangled his legs with hers as she melted into his body. Raising her hand to his mouth, he kissed the ring his grandmother had left him, the ring that symbolized his commitment to Susan.

“Do you ever think about Donna?” Susan asked out of the blue.

“Nope. I prefer to keep my blood pressure under control.”

Susan nodded against his chest. “I dreamt about her tonight.”

“Don’t waste your time on her,” he ordered, the edge of his voice sharp.

Susan pushed up then crossed her arms on his chest, looking down at him. “You’re still angry after all this time?”

“Fuck yeah,” he growled.

“Why? She’s paid for her sins already.”

With a fury he hadn’t felt in a long time, James rolled Susan to her back and unloaded years of pent-up anger.

“She almost took you from me, and in doin’ so, she almost took my boys from me. All this,” he swung his arm wide to mean their home, their life with their boys, “would have meant shit without you. It pisses me off that you had to go through what you did, especially when I warned her parents she needed help. And in doin’ so, they lived the rest of their lives missin’ her because they didn’t listen, and we lived the last twenty-eight goddamn years pretendin’ that their loss was our loss, too. So yeah, it pisses me the fuck off to think about it.”

“Okay,” she nodded, running her hand against his cheek. “I hate her, too.”

His eyes softened. “No, you don’t. You don’t have a mean bone in your body.”

“Well, I would have hated her all these years if I’d known how much it hurt you to think about what happened.”

His chest tightened with the memory of that night, so he exhaled then drew a deep breath to calm himself. “Got my boy Asher because of her,” he grumbled reluctantly, trying to lighten the mood. “Guess I can thank her for that.”

“Your son who’s met his match.”

“About damn time, too. I’m fifty-four years old, and I need a grandson to take fishin’.”

Susan smiled. “What if he has girls?”

“It’ll be a boy,” James stated with authority.

“And how do you know that?”

“’Cause God knows if he gives me grandaughters, I’ll end up killin’ someone . . .”

The End