epilogue
Three months later
Lily
“YOU REALLY WANT me to move in with you?”
I nod, scooting across my giant bed so I can press my naked body against his. He still has on his boxer briefs but I can feel his erection. If I plan this right, that big cock of his will be inside me in minutes. “Please ease the suspense and just say yes. We’re together all the time anyway. If you’re not here, I’m at your apartment.” But he’s in Brooklyn, so we spend more time here. Plus, my apartment is bigger. It also has better security, thanks to Max and the new system he recently convinced them to put in. He’s still not sold that Pilar won’t pop up out of nowhere and come after me or Violet.
Max chuckles and slips his arms around my waist, his big hands moving down to cup my ass and haul me into him. “I should be like Caden and make you move into my place so we can all be neighbors,” he murmurs against my neck as he starts kissing me there. His lips are hot, his tongue wet, making me shiver.
“That would be kind of dumb considering we’re opening up our new office downtown next month,” I remind him. It’s only a few months after I started working with Max and Levi, and business is booming. Word got out that Max now has a team of tech experts working with him and we’re almost to the point where we have to turn business away.
Max is currently interviewing for more employees and we recently hired a full-time receptionist. We’ve kept it quiet that I work with him. I’ve become more of a silent partner because we don’t want to draw any unwanted media attention. Our business is discreet, and potential clients wouldn’t like it if they knew a former media darling—or media hot mess, take your pick—was working with them.
And I’ve had plenty of media attention lately, what with the recent launch of the namesake perfume. I did a ton of interviews along with Rose and Violet, and we did a huge launch at Bloomingdale’s. The media especially loves that Rose is hugely pregnant and ready to pop any day now. The Fowler Sisters’ perfumes have done amazingly well.
Not that I’m surprised.
In some ways, I’ve become a completely different person these last few months. I go into work every morning, Monday through Friday, and sometimes we even work on the weekends. Me, the party girl of Manhattan, the troublemaker, the terror, the girl nominated to crash and burn at a young age, has turned into a normal, eight-to-five—or more, to be truthful—working woman.
And I love it. I love waking up with Max, sharing a shower with him before we eat breakfast, gulp down coffee, and head to the office. I love working with Levi, who’s intense and smart and enjoys figuring out tricky code as much as I do—maybe even more.
The thing I love the most? Spending every day with Max. I thought we would get sick of each other and he admitted he had that fear, too. Yet I’m not sick of him at all. If anything, I appreciate and love him more and more each day. He’s amazing. So smart, so diligent, always wanting to do the right thing no matter what.
All that integrity I thought he didn’t have? He possesses it in spades. And it’s sexy, too. Everything about him is sexy.
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. We should stay here in your giant apartment versus the box I live in.” With his big hands still gripping my ass, he spreads my legs wider, his fingers sinking into my wet pussy, and I inhale sharply, loving the way he knows just how to touch me. “You got enough space in that fancy closet of yours so my clothes can fit?” he murmurs into my neck.
“No way are you getting anywhere near my closet.” I start to laugh, but it instantly turns into a moan when he starts to stroke me between my legs in earnest.
“Baby, you are always so wet for me.” He moves down my body, his hot mouth burning a path along my skin until he’s nestled between my thighs, licking and sucking me into oblivion. “Damn, you taste good,” he murmurs against my flesh.
I clutch at his hair, overwhelmed by the way this man makes me feel. How did I get so lucky? And it’s not only about the sex, though he certainly knows how to keep me satisfied.
“Max,” I whisper, thrusting my hips against his face. He looks up at me, his gaze intense, his tongue circling my clit as he sinks a finger inside me, and that’s all it takes. I’m shuddering, the orgasm slipping over me with ease as I cry out. I’ve never had more orgasms in my life as I do with him.
And I’ve never felt so loved, so cherished. And it’s all because of Max.
It’s the way he believes in me. Encourages me. Supports me when I need it and steps back when my freedom is necessary. His instincts are always spot on and I trust him. He still wants me to be a partner in his business and though I agree, it’s a huge step and one I’m not quite ready for.
Which he’s fine with. He doesn’t push. I appreciate that more than he’ll ever know.
He gets along with my sisters and Ryder and Caden. I’ve met his parents and I really like his mom and dad, though his big brother, Sam, is just as grumpy as Max warned me he would be. He’s a police detective in New Jersey, a giant bear of a man with a constant scowl on his face, though he’s almost as handsome as Max.
Almost. No one’s as gorgeous as Max, at least in my eyes.
“You are loud when you come, princess,” he teases as he rises above me, his boxer briefs somehow disappearing.
“I like the way you use your tongue, cowboy,” I tease back, sighing with pleasure when he kisses me deep, his tongue thrusting against mine.
“Speaking of cowboy, I think my girl needs to ride me,” he murmurs, and then he’s flipping me over so I’m straddling his hips, lifting up so I can take his big cock deep inside my body. “Ah, that’s it, baby. Start rocking.”
I do as he tells me, sliding up and down his cock slowly, rocking into him. I lift my arms and close my eyes, my body swaying as I gather up my hair and pile it on top of my head. I know he likes it when I do this. Putting on a show, thrusting out my chest, my breasts swaying with my movements.
“Pretty view,” he encourages as he runs his hands along my waist, over my stomach, then back up to cup my breasts. I drop my arms and open my eyes, smiling down at him, and then he’s shifting his position so he’s sitting up, his mouth on my nipples as he tongues and sucks first one, then the other.
A shuddery sigh escapes me and I cradle his head in my hands, breathless when he looks up at me with his beautiful blue eyes so full of affection and lust and love. All for me. I still can’t believe this man is mine. All mine. “Feels so good,” he murmurs. “I love the way you ride my cock.”
My pussy clenches around his length and his lids fall to half-mast, as he lets out a low groan. I grind against him, sending him so deep I swear he’s touching my very soul.
“Love you, baby girl,” he whispers, knowing exactly what his words do to me. He can feel the reaction my body has to his tender endearments. “You gonna come again already?”
I nod, my messy hair falling all around my shoulders. His cock rubs against my inner walls, creating a delicious friction that takes me right over the edge, and he grabs hold of my hair, pulling tight so it stings as he thrusts his face in mine.
“Tell me you love me,” he demands.
“Oh, I do. I love you. So much, Max.”
He grips my hip with his other hand, increasing his pace, fucking me hard. He’s still pulling my hair, his mouth on mine, his tongue thrusting, his cock thrusting, and then I’m coming, milking his cock, his come spurting deep inside me, marking me.
Making me his.
Minutes later I’m in his arms, snug against his side, my head on his firm chest. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, and I trace my fingers over his pecs, unable to stop touching him.
“Maybe we need to start slowing down or something,” he murmurs, his fingers in my hair. “All this sex we keep having might kill us.”
I lift my head to glare at him. “No way are we slowing down. This is my favorite part of the day.”
He chuckles and squeezes my shoulders. “Have I told you that I love you today?”
Only about twenty times, give or take. “Yes, but tell me again.”
His expression goes serious and he cups my nape. “I love you. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have you in my life.”
“I love you, too,” I say, my voice soft, my emotions all over the place.
He stares at me. “Would you give up your closet for me?”
I go completely still. “Are you serious?”
His expression doesn’t change and I shove at him, seeing the teasing glimmer in his gaze. “You don’t want to force me to choose between you and my closet. I love that closet. At one point I planned to marry that closet and take its name.”
“Lily Closet? That was your life plan?” His brows lift, looking too sexy for his own good.
“Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” I poke at his chest with my index finger.
“I think Lily Coleman sounds better,” he says.
My mouth drops open and I swear my heart just tripped over itself. “Are you serious?”
He doesn’t say a word, just taps the tip of my nose with his finger.
“Really?” I squeak as he starts to draw my head down to his.
“Just say yes, Lily,” he whispers.
“Ye—” I start but he cuts me off.
And kisses me.