Dirty Scoundrel

“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: