“Pillow under my hips,” Nat pants, and grabs at a pillow above her head, then pushes it toward me.

I grunt and lift our joined bodies up. She knows hers better than I do, and she knows what she needs. I stuff it under her plush bottom and then thrust into her again. “Better?”

Her moan and the way she digs her nails into my shoulders tells me everything I need to know.

I rock into her, harder and faster, the friction between us making the pleasure intensify. When Nat’s cunt starts to tighten around me again, I have to pause and regain my control.

“No,” she pants, squeezing her hand into a fist against my shoulder. “Keep going. I’m so close.”

And I’m far too close. But her urgency fuels mine, and I thrust into her, leaning in to capture her mouth with mine. Just a few more strokes, I tell myself. Hold out for a few more so she can come and then—

She cries out underneath me, and I swallow her cry with my kiss. Her cunt tightens around my cock and it’s like she’s squeezing it with her fist, it’s so tight, and—

And then I’m coming, too. My control is gone and I surge into her, filling her with my seed and giving her everything I’ve got, heart, body, and soul. I’ve never come so hard.

Minutes pass and my breathing begins to slowly return to normal. I’m vaguely aware of my naked, sweaty body atop her, and she’s still wearing her pretty dress that we’ve now thoroughly wrecked. Her virginal bed’s pretty trashed, too. I press a kiss to her damp brow before sliding to one side so I don’t crush her. “I love you, Nat.”

“Love you, too,” she murmurs sleepily.

I hold her against me, tucking her against me, my cock still buried inside her. We’re both sticky from the release but I don’t feel like moving. I just wanna lie here with her, forever.

Well, except that there’s a big wet spot in the bed. “You might wanna wash these sheets.”

“Probably burn ’em,” she says with a yawn. “Hide the evidence.”

“Why hide?” I ask, wrapping a possessive arm around her and restin’ it on one big, bouncy tit. “Your dad’s eventually gonna have to find out we’re together.”

“Mmm, good point. I didn’t think about that.” She peers over her shoulder at me, all soft and sated. “So what happens now between us?”

I think for a minute. “A new contract.”

Her brows go down. “Another contract?”

I nod and rest my chin on her shoulder, tucking my face next to hers. “A marriage one.”

“Oh.” Her voice goes soft. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good. Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything in my life.” It’s true, too.

Epilogue

Four Months Later

Natalie

My phone buzzes with a text message, waking me from a nap. I rub my eyes and scramble for my phone, only to knock it off the couch and on the floor. Shoot. That’s what I get for falling asleep in the living room. I haul myself off the sofa and pad across the newly laid tile, yawning as I scoop it up.

I immediately feel queasy as I bend over, and retreat back to the couch. Ugh. Morning sickness could go away any day now. I lie back down and close my eyes, sweating and swallowing hard, waiting for the sensation to pass. Eventually it does, and I squeeze one eye open to peer at my phone.

IVY: The mailman delivered to the wrong house again. I just got a big box with skulls on it that’s addressed to Lexi.

IVY: I’d get in the car and bring it over but Seth finally just went down for his nap.

I text her back, not quite ready to get up off my sofa myself.

NAT: I’m still flattened by the barfs, so let’s text Lexi and let her know it went to your house, k?

IVY: Thx. I’ll leave it on the front porch if she’s coming by soon. Tell her not to ring the doorbell bc baby sleeping. :)

NAT: Will do.

IVY: I’m sorry your stomach’s so bad. Ginger tea did wonders for me!

NAT: I’ll send Clay out to get some later! TY!

I sigh at my phone and rub my still-flat stomach. I’ve been pregnant for all of two months so far, I think, and I’m already pretty done with it. Ivy was a glowing beauty all through her pregnancy, I’ve been told by multiple sources. Me, I’ve already got swollen ankles, bad skin, and I’ve thrown up enough to lose five pounds . . . which makes no sense, because I’ve gained ten. I can tell I’m going to be one of those people that suffers all through pregnancy.

Fun times.

I text Clay first, because, well, I always text Clay first. I’m just as ridiculously silly in love with the man now as I am the day he walked back into my life. We’re joined at the hip, morning, noon, and night. I wake up in his arms and we snuggle for a few minutes before Clay gets up and heads out for work. Usually we have lunch together, and I’ve accompanied him out to the rig sites when he has to make a visit. I’ve watched him and Boone dowse for wells, though he says he doesn’t have the magic touch that Boone does. And when he comes home, we normally end up on the couch, either watching TV, playing video games (I’m trying desperately to get good at the football games he loves), or making love. You’d think we’d get sick of being around each other all the time, but if anything, it’s the opposite. I crave him even more with every passing day. I’ve never been so damn happy.

Or so damn lonely when he’s gone.

Right now, he’s overseeing the production of the first round of IntelligentCamo prototypes. He’s made plans with a local base to discuss the possibility of it helping the troops and he’s talked about donating all of them instead of charging for them. Seth’s death changed more than a few things in the Price brothers. I know that before, Clay was interested in selling the IntelligentCamo to the families of troops, but now he’s talking about setting up a foundation and donating thousands of suits of it. He says if it can save a few lives, he’s willing to shell out the money.

I think that’s sweet—my man has an altruistic side. I love that.

He should be home at a regular time tonight, though, so I send him a little love note.

NAT: <3 <3 Hey baby, can you pick up some ginger tea on the way home tonight?

CLAY: Hey love

CLAY: Your stomach bothering you?

NAT: Yeah—Ivy says ginger tea is good for the sickness.

CLAY: I’m on it. Love you.

NAT: Love ya too, babe.

I smile as I switch to Lexi’s number and send her a text.

NAT: You awake?

There’s no response from Lexi’s phone. Figures. It’s still fairly early in the morning . . . though Lexi is normally an early riser. She likes to joke that she’s been up all night summoning hordes of evil minions, but it’s all a front. Lexi is one of those people that likes to wake up early and face the day.

I’ll just have to go over and see what the deal is.

It takes me a few minutes to get the courage to roll off the couch. I eventually get to my feet and test things, but my stomach seems to have settled for the moment. Good. I pad across the floor of our new house, kicking aside plastic sheeting as I walk.

Clay wanted to build a new house for me, and said he wanted me to make it my dream house. We got quotes on houses, though, and to build what we wanted was going to take at least a year and a hell of a lot of money. And while the money isn’t the problem, I got pregnant, and came to the realization that I didn’t want my baby to be born in Clay’s trailer or while I was living at a hotel. Living at the Weston Ranch was completely out of the question, too.

So we bought a house. Specifically, we bought a house down the street from Ivy and Boone. Well, it’s not exactly “down” the street because they have a massive ranch, and now we have a slightly less massive ranch, but we’re on the same block. Our house is old and outdated, with popcorn ceilings and wood paneling everywhere, so while I’m “between” jobs and pregnant, I’ve decided to renovate.

And by renovate, I mean I tear rooms up and then call people in to fix up my messes. I’m not much of a painter, alas, but a real one’s coming tomorrow. I head to the master bedroom, slide on my shoes, and then grab the keys and head out of the house, down the walkway, and toward Lexi’s bungalow. The property we picked came with a cottage joined to the sprawling main house by a little pathway in the backyard, so I offered for Lexi to move in. Her yoga business has been failing and failing hard back in Luka. The town’s too small—and Lexi’s too weird—for it to work. She’s now doing home visits and trying to set up a web presence, but she’s been rather distracted lately to get much done.

I know that feeling. It seems like life seems to hit all at once sometimes. It’s been the same for me.

Dad had another fall not long after Clay and I got married, and at the suggestions of his nurses, we moved Dad to a home in San Antonio. It’s one of the most expensive ones available, and he’s got a massive suite all to himself. There’s care-staff that can look after him night and day. More importantly, there are no stairs for him to fall down. I thought he’d hate it, but to my surprise, he actually loves the home. It seems that there are a lot of fans of his movies, and he’s treated like the celebrity he is every time he leaves his room. They even have Chap Weston movie nights on a regular basis, and my dad’s the center of attention when they do. He loves that. I visited yesterday and it was like my dad was constantly holding court, signing autographs, flirting with the ladies, and charming the nurses. I haven’t seen him so happy in years. It took a lot of the stress off of me to realize that he needed real company, not just a nursemaid.

Dad’s not thrilled I’m with Clay. Not at all. But most days he doesn’t even remember who Clay is, so I try not to let it bother me. I’m not going to let Dad’s misery control my life. Not any longer. At the end of the day, he’s just a sad, elderly old man who spent more time unhappy than anyone should, and I’m not going to let that happen to me. Sometimes he’ll call and gripe at me for making poor life choices, but most times Dad lives in his own little world.