Five years later
I bolt up in bed and snap my eyes open. What the hell is going on?
Throwing my blanket off, I swing my legs over the edge of the bed and stand up. God, I hate starting mornings like this. Letting Drake stay at our house for a few days doesn’t sound like a great idea anymore. He’s not only big, like the fucking Hulk, but he’s also incredibly loud. His laughter booms, reaching my ears as I stomp to the bathroom and hop into a quick shower. Then I head to the closet to get dressed.
Walking out of the bedroom, I go downstairs without even checking on Michael. I’m sure he’s with his dad and his beloved Uncle Drake. Most of the men in this house these days play on my nerves.
Once I step into the living room, Smokey jumps off the couch and strolls over to me, meowing in greeting. I pick him up, press him to my chest, and follow the noises to the kitchen. Laughter, men’s loud voices, and my son’s excited chattering make me roll my eyes. Why did they need to wake up so early? It’s just nine a.m. on Saturday.
I stop in the doorway. Drake and Michael are sitting at the table with plates full of pancakes in front of them. My son has one pancake in his right hand and another in his left, biting them in turn. Benson holds a cup in his hands, watching him with eyes full of mischief.
“Buddy, you are definitely going to be like your Uncle Drake.”
“In your dreams,” my hubs comments, wheeling around and gazing at me. “Did we wake you up?”
“You certainly did,” I say, fighting the smile that blooms on my lips. Colton in only shorts affects me more than anything, turning my panties into a hot, wet mess. Even five years later. Not to brag, but the title for the sexiest NHL player rightfully belongs to my hubby.
I let Smokey jump on the floor and go to my son. “Good morning, baby.”
“Morn-whm-ming,” he mumbles as I arch my eyebrow at him, counting in my head how many times I told him not to speak when his mouth is full. Michael finally swallows, noticing me watching him. He turns his head and flashes me a smile. “Morning, Mommy.”
I bend down and plant a loud smooch on his forehead. I love this boy to the moon and back, despite all the sleepless nights, struggles, and breakdowns I had when he was a newborn. Books and movies usually paint an idyllic picture of motherhood and parenting, while in reality? I honestly believe our society doesn’t realize how hard it is to be a mom. But it’s a choice we make, so it’s not about complaints. I just think men should be more respectful and more helpful when it comes to their wives, sisters, and mothers.
Colt is here whenever he can be, giving me emotional support or just letting me sleep while putting our son back to bed at night. Our miscommunication in the past gave us an incredible experience, and now we’re always there for each other. We talk about everything, the good and the bad. Always.
“Morning, Ava,” Drake says, smiling. Even with the very noticeable stubble on his face, a little dimple on his right cheek is visible.
He’s twenty-seven, just like Colton. Last season, he got into a fight with a left wing from Toronto, and now his nose is slightly crooked. His hair is short and curly on top. He only got bigger with time, and on the ice Benson is a fucking beast. It’s best not to piss him off during a game. With a smile, he will easily send his opponent crashing into—or flying over—the boards. When he was traded for another player and signed a two-season contract with the California Thunders, it was like a dream come true for Colt. Now he wants Clay to join the team, but for now, he’s tied to his contract with the Hawks.
“Morning, Drake. I honestly can’t wait for you to move into your house.”
“Aw, Mason. You’re as nice as always.” Drake laughs, taking a sip of his coffee.
“Thompson. She’s Thompson,” Colt states, correcting him, and Benson chortles harder.
“Sorry, dude. She will always be Mason to me,” he mutters once his laughter dies down. “If you think you’re getting rid of me once I move, think again. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Really?” Michael gazes at Drake, his deep brown eyes full of hope.
“Of course. I love playing with you, kiddo.” He reaches over and ruffles my son’s brown hair with his huge palm, making him giggle. “Plus, I miss my little niece.”
Drake and I lock eyes, and I furrow my brow. Layla is as stubborn as a mule, preferring to struggle alone instead of agreeing to move to San Jose with her brother to be closer to us both. She has financial support, but she definitely needs someone to be there for her. Being a single mom is no fun. Since the moment she broke up with Clay right after his graduation, her life has slowly gone downhill.
“Hopefully we can change your sister’s mind.”
“She’s such a stubborn little sh—” Benson pauses, sneaking a glance at Michael, who has his eyes glued to his face. Yeah, dude, control your words around our kid. Colt and I spent a whole week trying to make him stop saying “what the fuck” any time he was annoyed. It was funny the first time he repeated it after me, but when he started saying it ten times a day, it became a problem. No one expects kids at preschool to know swear words. “Shopper,” he finishes.
“Really, man? Is that the best you’ve got?” Colt snorts loudly, grabbing my hand and pulling me to his chest. He wraps me in his arms, and I’m melting already. His warmth envelops me, filling my heart with joy and happiness. The way I love this man is overwhelming and exhilarating. Nothing compares to it.
“It’s not easy to find a synonym for ‘shit’.”
“Drake,” Colt and I mumble at the same time, bursting out with laughter. He hides his face in his palms, while Michael looks at all of us in turn.
“What is shit?” he asks once the kitchen goes quiet, and we start cackling like a horde of crazy seagulls again. This day is going to be awesome.
“Michael is fine, Dad. He’s having the time of his life, I swear.” I sit by the pool; my legs are in the water. My son is running around throwing his toys in the water, while I watch him with a calm demeanor. I found my zen two years ago. I don’t think there are a lot of things that can piss me off when it comes to Michael. If he does something bad or rude, he knows there will be consequences. Throwing toys into the pool is definitely not on the list. “Your grandson can’t wait for preschool to start again. He misses his friends.”
“Does he? Or is it you who can’t wait for preschool to start?” Dad laughs.
“Me too,” I say, waving at Michael to get his attention. “We’re going to have dinner in twenty minutes, so I suggest you go play some more.”
“Okey dokey.” Michael giggles and runs into the house.
I shake my head and press the phone back to my ear. “Sorry, Dad.”
“It’s totally fine.” Dad chuckles. “Michael told me you’re going to visit Isla on Friday.”
“Yeah, her mom invited us to a barbeque. Drake is coming too. We’re trying to help him get used to a new city, meet new people, show him our favorite places, you know. So far, he likes everything. Except his neighbor,” I snort, remembering how exasperated and annoyed Drake was when we got back from his house two days ago. I don’t think he will forget Evangelina any time soon. The daughter of Philadelphia’s legendary quarterback left a lasting impression on our friend. “He says he hates her.”
“Sounds familiar. I remember finding you in the kitchen all those years ago, when you told me about Colton and how much you hate him.”
“I still do when he acts like an insufferable jerk.” The second these words leave my mouth, someone shoves me in the water. I raise my phone high in the air and turn around, shooting daggers at my husband. A cocky smile plays on his lips as he and Drake stand by the pool with their bags draped over their shoulders. They just came home from practice, and the best idea Colton had was to push me into the water. “Sorry, Dad. My husband just proved why I hate him. Tell Pen I say hi. I can’t wait to see you two next week. Love you.”
“Love you too, kid. Bye.”
Dad ends the call as I swim to the edge of the pool, throw my phone onto the grass, and pull myself out. Drake is still trying to keep a straight face, while Colt grins at me. I bend down, take my phone, and stomp inside, hearing them both break into laughter.
Walking into the living room, I see Michael and Drake on the couch watching The Loud House. Somehow, seeing my childhood friend watching cartoons with my son doesn’t surprise me. He’s all big and bulky, but Drake is a real teddy bear inside, and it shows when he’s around kids. I shake my head and edge to the kitchen. Dinner has been ready for a long time; I just need to reheat everything and set the table. Working from home has its perks, especially when you’re self-employed.
What started as a desire to support indie authors has turned into something great and, more importantly, helpful. I hired two girls who I met through the bookstagram community, and they work with me as personal assistants. We’re always growing and elevating our business to the next level. Some authors work with us exclusively; some order only certain services. I love reading books and discovering new writers, and I’m beyond happy I was able to turn it into my career.
My smutty stepmother is incredibly proud of me. Without her support, I’m not sure I would have had it in me to continue after Michael was born. It felt as if I was failing everyone, as I was busy with my son. So she stepped in and helped me to keep going. She still does.
“How is Dax? Penelope?” My husband’s voice takes me by surprise, but I masterfully hide it. I’m not angry with him, but I want him to stew a little. And make him all worked up. He deserves it. “Ava?”
I continue cutting tomatoes for a light salad when a hand wraps around my waist from behind, and my back is pressed to a solid chest.
“Dad said he’s going to give you a long lecture about how you treat your wife.”
“He wouldn’t,” Colt murmurs, grazing my ear with his teeth. “Dax knows how much I love you.”
“Seems to me you love making fun of me just as much,” I scoff, enjoying the warmth of his body.
“Definitely not.” His big, calloused palm covers mine, and I stop. I put the knife on the cutting board and turn around, looking up into my husband’s face. He has a beard now, and it adds a thousand points in his favor. His dark brown eyes are glued to my face, and I see the reflection of my own feelings. Love. Lust. And happiness. I lower my gaze to his chest, and my eyes linger on his wrist. He has tattoos covering both of his arms from his shoulders to his wrists, but there is one that is incredibly special: a tattoo that matches one I have on my lower abdomen. Our secret.
“Hey,” I murmur, standing on my tiptoes and kissing his full lips. If it weren’t for Drake and Michael, I would have dragged him upstairs and let him have his way with me. I can’t wait for Sunday, when it will be just the two of us once Michael goes to sleep.
“Hey, babe,” Colt sighs, pressing his forehead to mine. “How was your day?”
“Good. A little less productive than I’d hoped, but overall? Everything is fine,” I say, winding my hands around his waist. “Michael was well-behaved. I even took a nap with him for an hour.”
“Took a nap?” He arches his eyebrow.
“I started a book, but it bored me to death. It literally lulled me to sleep. I don’t know why I’m still trying to give stories with this trope a chance. It’s one of the most unrealistic things in the world, and you will never change my mind,” I state, seeing him stare at me in amusement. “What?”
“So books with a reverse harem are realistic?” A smile blooms on my lips, and tenderness fills my bones. The number of books we read together is huge—more like the number of chapters and excerpts we role-play. Colton is up for everything except letting another person in our bedroom. It doesn’t even matter. Woman or man, the answer will always be no. From both of us.
“It’s not my favorite genre, but it has its appeal. It’s very entertaining, and educational. Your sex life became a lot richer because of it, so you’re not allowed to complain.”
“Was I complaining?” He kisses my forehead and takes a step back. “Need some help with dinner?”
“No. I have everything under control. Go check what Drake and Michael are doing.” I turn around and toss the tomatoes into the bowl.
My dad’s words about our first conversation about Colton reappear, bringing memories back to the surface. I’m not sure I ever hated him, but he definitely annoyed the fuck out of me on more occasions than I could count. All because he had no idea how to express his feelings. The total opposite from how my husband is now. He has a way with words that makes me weak in my knees. The passion we share flares up any time we are alone, always leaving me wanting more.
COLTON
Sitting in my car, I press my phone to my ear. My little sister wants to know if we’re coming to her birthday. Chloe is six years old now, and she loves being on the ice. The only difference? She wants to be a professional figure skater. My sister is a very hardworking little gal, and I admire her determination and her talent.
Helen and I had a talk after I told my wife I wanted to be present in my sister’s life. There are no hard feelings between us anymore, and we learned how to be civil. Especially since she apologized to Ava for what she said and quit my father’s company. They signed an agreement that satisfied both parties. Dad supports his daughter financially and takes her to our family home almost every weekend. He made sure he kept his promise to me. In more ways than I even hoped for.
“We are all planning to come. Don’t worry.”
“Love you, Colt. Say hi to Ava and Michael.”
“Love you too, Chloe. I will. Bye.”
“Bye.” She ends the call, and I unfasten my seat belt and get out of the car.
The more time I spend with my son, the more I understand Helen’s desire to keep the baby all those years back. Considering her health problems, it could have been her only shot at getting pregnant, and she went for it without any hesitation. Her daughter is her life, and she will go all mama bear on anyone who has a problem with her child. It’s precious, and I honestly respect her for it. She’s just like my mom. And Ava. The love these women have for their children motivates me to be a better father, to be the best role model I can be. There is nothing more precious than a smile from your child.
I lock my car and call my mom. Hopefully she’s not in bed yet. The time difference makes my brain hurt sometimes.
“Hey, Colt.” My mom’s voice fills my ears after the second ring. My insides warm up, and I can’t help but grin. She’s on medication, and she needs routine. But she’s been well for five years, and in all honesty, that’s the only thing that matters.
“Hey, Mom. I didn’t wake you up, did I?” It’s two p.m. in San Jose, but I have no idea what time it is in Biarritz.
“At eleven p.m.? No, I’m still up,” she snickers. “Your father has always been a night owl, and that hasn’t changed.”
I lower my gaze to my feet, shaking my head. If someone had told me my parents would get back together, I would have never believed them. It sounded absolutely unrealistic, but that’s exactly what happened. There was a reason Mom didn’t leave Dad after her one night with Leo, and that reason was love—love they were able to reignite when Mom returned home from the facility.
They started getting closer because of me. Traveling together to visit my family, to see their grandson. Talking and spending time together like they hadn’t done in years. And I think she saw the man she fell in love with all those years ago, the man who made her a priority, who was willing to step away from work and just be with her. Whenever she needed him.
As my wife often says, most of the time, women don’t need big gestures, expensive gifts, or declarations of love. They just need their men by their side and present. My dad learned his lesson, and once he noticed the changes in Mom’s behavior, he did everything in his power to win her back. And it worked. They look happier than ever, back in love. The smile on her face is the only thing that matters to my father.
“Well, some habits definitely die hard.” I laugh heartily. “How do you like France? Is it the same as you remember?”
We talk some more. Mom tells me about their days in France. She and Dad will be back in two weeks and plan to visit us—just in time, as Dax and Penelope will be here too. We never told Mom that Ava’s dad was the one who saved her, as it could have triggered bad memories and we were strongly advised against it. But Dad knows, and he barely held his shit together when he realized how much he owes Dax for saving his wife that night. The bond they have is overwhelming.
Seeing Michael running in my direction with a geeky smile on his face, my heart is ready to burst with happiness. He’s the most precious little child in the world.
“Okay, Mom. I just got home and need to go change my clothes.”
“Sure, Colt. Kiss Ava and Michael for us.”
“Definitely, and tell Dad we say hi. Good night, Mom.” I hang up, kneeling and catching Michael in my arms. “How have you been, kid?”
“So good.” His eyes widen a fraction as I stand up and carry him to the living room. He’s super excited about something, and I have no idea what. “Mom is…she’s…she’s the best.”
My brows pinch together, following his gaze with my eyes. My jaw drops at once as I gape at the LEGO town in front of us. There’s a train station, a police station, a zoo, and, what’s more, a fucking Harry Potter castle. When did she have time to build all this?
I put my son down, and he instantly runs to his toys. I straighten and look at my wife, who’s sitting on the couch with a book in her hands. I got myself the sexiest bookworm in the world, honestly.
“What is this?” I ask, coming closer and plopping down beside her.
“LEGOs.”
“I know that. I mean, when did you—”
“Here and there. It took me a little over a week.” Ava shrugs, and I haul her to my chest, hugging her tightly.
“You’re the best mom in the world,” I praise her, and she looks up at me, tossing her book on the couch and winding her hands around my waist. “I’m so lucky to have you.”
“And I’m so lucky to have you,” she murmurs, gently kissing my lips. “You’re the best dad in the world.”
I rake my gaze over her face, and my skin warms up just from the sight of her. Those emerald green eyes with thick black eyelashes, her little nose, her puffy and so-kissable lips, and my favorite little birthmark on her right cheek. She has her hair cascading over her shoulders, with a little bun on top. I love everything about her, and that only grows with each passing day. I’m the luckiest man in the world to have her as my wife. My twin flame.
We talk about our plans for the day, and Michael hears us. He gapes at me with his mouth half open. “Isn’t Uncle Drake coming back?”
“No. He moved into his house, so now he will only be visiting,” I tell him, and he sulks, turning away and focusing on his toys again. Smokey carefully steps around the LEGO town without knocking any on the ground.
“I hope he loves his place,” Ava sighs, taking her book in her hands again. “Drake is a family guy, and I think he might be lonely.”
“He has us,” I reassure her, and then I narrow my eyes. “His neighbor looks a lot like you.”
“Did you talk to her?” Mischief swims behind her irises, but I’m not quite sure I understand why.
“No, I just saw her walking out of her house. Why?”
“She knows how to stand up for herself, and she won’t hesitate to put you in your place if she thinks you deserve it. She flipped him the bird when they were arguing, and called him a moron.”
“Basically, she’s his type,” I say, and my wife laughs. I kiss her forehead and stand up from the couch. “I’m going to go change.”
“Okay.” She joins me and edges to the kitchen. “I’ll heat up some food.”
I turn around and head to the hallway, halting in my tracks to look at her over my shoulder. Taunting my wife is still my favorite thing in the world to do. “Ava?”
“Yeah?” She meets my gaze.
“There is no need for dessert.” She frowns, but when I say my next piece, she’s fuming. “I intend to eat my sweets later…in bed.”
“In your dreams.” Ava pokes her tongue out at me and stomps into the kitchen. Definitely not in my dreams. Benson’s presence made us quieter, but not anymore. Enjoying my time in bed with my wife is exactly what I’m going to do tonight once Michael is asleep.
Closing the door to our bedroom, I slowly crawl into bed. It was my turn to put Michael to sleep, and as often happens, I fell asleep myself.
Now it’s two a.m., and my wife is in a deep sleep. A blanket is pressed between her thighs as she lies on her right side with her hands under the pillow. She’s a real sleeping beauty with her long brown hair spilled over her pillow. I take off my tee and toss it away, getting rid of my briefs as well.
I slide under the blanket, wrapping my body around hers. My hand lands on her hip, and I move it lower, enjoying the softness of her skin. With all my years of playing hockey, I’ve gained a lot of muscle. She’s so small compared to me, and it makes my desire to protect her go through the roof. There is no other girl in the world for me.
“Colt…” Ava’s voice is quiet as she looks at me over her shoulder. “I tried to wait for you, but I fell asleep.”
“Didn’t I tell you about my dessert?” I move my hand between her legs and part them with ease. I press my fingers to her pussy through her tiny shorts, and my cock rises to attention immediately. It hardens as I grind it over her ass while pushing her shorts away and circling my fingers over her clit. Slow and gentle, without rushing anything. I close my eyes, enjoying the friction as my cock throbs. The effect she has on me is absolutely intoxicating. She makes me forget everything. Even hockey, and that’s something I never expected to happen.
“You did, and honestly, I was looking forward to your tongue in my pussy. Not just your fingers.”
As if she needs to tell me twice. I hop off the bed as she turns onto her back. I grab her legs and pull her to the edge of the bed. Yanking down her shorts, I lick my lips, staring at the little honeypot on her lower abdomen. A matching tattoo to the Winnie-the-Pooh I have inked on my right wrist. I can’t fucking live without my honey, and she’s perfectly aware of it.
I drop to my knees and slowly lick her clit, and then lower, to her lips. She moans, spreading her legs further and nestling more comfortably. I put my hand on her belly, covering her piercing and holding her in place. I’m hungry for my girl as I swirl my tongue over her swollen clit. I suck it into my mouth hard and then release it slowly, drawing another long moan out of her. She tastes even sweeter than my favorite M&Ms, and it’s never enough for me. I could go down on her every fucking day and I wouldn’t get bored. It’s pure pleasure.
She grabs my hair and tugs, and I lock eyes with her as she props herself on her elbows. “You drive me insane when you do that; it feels so good.”
I smile at her, plunging two fingers inside her, and she instantly plops onto her back again. Her fingers dig into my hair. I hold her spread open for me, lapping my tongue over her clit and curling my fingers inside her at just the right spot. She tugs on my hair harder, and I close my eyes. Pain ripples through my body.
“If you continue to act like a brat, I’m going to fuck you like one, babe,” I tell her as she rotates her hips, rubbing her pussy over my face.
“Make me come with your tongue, and later do whatever the hell you want,” Ava pants, shoving her cunt in my face. “I want you to take control.”
Hearing those words, I almost come myself. I glide my hand over her belly and higher, until I have a handful of her breast. Her nipple is a pebbled point, and dear God, I want it in my mouth so badly. I speed up my movements, and she explodes on my tongue, her whole body trembling. The waves of her orgasm make her writhe as her chest rises and falls with her breath.
“So fucking delicious, babe.” I stand up, hovering over her. Ava’s eyes zero in on my cock, and she grins. “How bad do you want it inside you?”
Well, I definitely should know better. My wife has been compared to a tornado for a reason. She moves away from me, settles on our pillows, and spreads her legs wide. Her fingers fly to her pussy, and I suddenly feel thirsty.
“Tell me how bad you want to be inside me, Colt.”
I lunge forward and haul her toward me, sliding inside her at once. She gasps, and I cover her mouth with mine, ravishing her tongue as if my life depends on it. Ava kisses me back, wrapping her legs around my hips as I fuck her. She moans in my mouth, her tongue playing with mine. The feeling of an incredibly strong release builds within me, setting my body on fucking fire and pushing my limits sky-high. I slam into her, going deeper with each stroke. Her pussy is dripping, soaking me in her juices as her breath hitches in her throat.
“I want you to hold your orgasm,” I tell her, and her eyes widen. “Hold it.”
“It feels too good,” she whines breathlessly as my dick fills her completely.
“Hold it, Ava,” I command, pinching her nipple through her tee.
“Oh my fucking God.” Her brows knit together as her teeth graze her bottom lip.
She grabs the sheets and fists them in her hands. She does as I tell her, trying to stay afloat without letting her orgasm overwhelm her. The sound of our slapping skin becomes louder as I fuck her harder, driving my whole length inside her till I’m balls deep.
I circle my hand around her throat and squeeze. A faint smile crosses her face. She’s my fucking brat, and I don’t want her to be anyone else. This roughness. This passion. This never-ending desire to challenge each other. It’s us. It’s how we are, and damn—I don’t want it to be any other way. She lifts her hips, inviting me deeper, till I hit her deepest spot with my cock.
“Such a good fucking girl you are, wifey. Such a good fucking girl,” I pant, pressing my forehead to hers. “Tell me who your pussy belongs to.”
“You.” The word spills off her tongue, and her eyes roll back in her head. She’s no longer controlling her body, and her pussy clenches around my shaft. Her head bobs back, and she cries out, coming for the second time. I shut my eyes, trying to fight my own release, but it’s too good. I grunt and spill my cum inside her as I smash our lips together.
We kiss more, our hands roaming over each other’s bodies. Our lust for one another is still strong. Our insatiable desire to become one has only grown stronger, and it’s all I want at the moment. My cock is hard again, and I’m ready for another round.
I lean away and roll onto my back, glancing at her. “Your turn.”
Ava smiles at me, and then she straddles my legs, taking my dick inside her. She moans, eyes hooded with need. I slap her ass hard, and the change is incredible. My wife frowns, putting both of her hands on my chest. She’s not moving, but it only makes me smile.
I slap her ass again, and she flinches. “Fuck me, Ava. Now.”
“What happened to me taking control?” she snarls, scraping my chest with her nails. I hiss and just slap her ass again—harder.
“Fuck. Me. Now,” I whisper, and my wife smirks. The next thing I know, she takes off her tee and throws it onto the floor. My gaze drops to her chest, and I fucking groan, palming her boobs with both hands. Mine. So fucking mine.
Pushing myself from the bed, I sit up straight and wind my hands around her waist. I suck her nipple into my mouth and graze my teeth over it, and Ava moans in pleasure, still digging her fingernails into my back.
“Fucker.” When the word leaves her mouth, I’m thrown back in time, to the moment she slapped me for my horrible words.
“But I’m your fucker.” I cup her ass and push her to start rocking her hips.
Ava holds my gaze. A million different emotions reflect on her face until there is only one: love. She rolls her hips, lowering her mouth to mine. “You’re mine, Colton. Only mine.”
Our lips collide, and the world around us ceases to exist. Ava is my end and my beginning. She’s my weakness and my strength. She’s my soulmate, and I’m incredibly grateful to her for giving me a chance. For letting me in and allowing me to love her. For loving me back and being my family. She’s my only one, and it will stay like this forever. Always.
