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The Deal Dilemma: Epilogue

Davis

Five Years Later

Winding my hair up, I loop a hair band around it, high-fiving Layla as she slides up beside me, having done the same.

Julius walks backward toward the entrance, grinning as he shouts, “Doors are opening in three, two…”

Excited shouts and shrieks instantly fill the space, my smile spreading impossibly wider.

It takes a few seconds for our entry team to get things moving, and then duos and trios, and more are rushing through the short hall to get the first glimpses of the dance floor, a thick plexiglass over a layer of blue and purple glitters, the shimmers reflecting along the deep-navy walls.

Within minutes, the club is full, my dad’s eyes widening as he comes around the corner, his tool belt still hanging around his waist.

“Wow.” He looks at us with a grin. “Looks like it’s an overnight hit.”

“Having mega hot, famous husbands will do that.” Layla winks, passing him his keys from beneath the bar.

“I guess so.” He chuckles, his keen eyes moving from Julius to Drew, and every other male employee we have in here tonight. “You girls sure you’ll be okay? I can stay until the boys’ plane gets in, no problem.”

“Problem.” I laugh. “Mom called twice already, and said Evie is asking when Grandpa G. will be home.”

Layla smiles, shaking her head as she starts pouring shots for a group of girls. Her daughter has claimed my dad as her best friend, thank goodness for that since his own grandson has chosen his grandma as his. Crew says as Max gets older, he’ll make the swap from grandma to grandpa, and it’s adorable he felt he had to explain all the reasons why it would happen, as if my dad was worried or sad because of it. He constantly reminds him how he’ll need his grandpa to help teach him to play ball and change a tire, and all the other things my dad taught Crew, that Crew wants my dad to carry on and teach our son.

My dad only smiles, knowingly watching the love the little guy has for his gram. Not to say he doesn’t pout. He does, especially when we go over for Sunday dinners and Max reaches for my mom first, but my two-year-old takes after his mom, as my dad’s learned—his attention can be bought with treats.

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I pull it out, glancing at the screen, showing it to him. “There she is again.” I smile.

“All right, I better get out of here before this place is too packed for me to move. Let me know if that door jams again, and I’ll be back to fix it.”

“I will, thanks, Dad.”

“Love you. Good luck, girls.” He begins to walk away. “Stay behind the bar!”

“We know!” we sing-song.

Minutes later, we’re left with no room to talk. The DJ is slaying, and the crowd is swaying.

It wasn’t ideal—for Crew and Willie, that is—that the grand opening of our new club was set for the same night as their newest fighter’s debut fight.

But us girls took over operations on both the bar and brewery three years ago, combining both businesses under one umbrella and becoming fifty-fifty partners in both, while the men worked their asses off getting their new MMA training gym off the ground. They now have seven fighters signed, and dozens of others attending an array of classes they offer.

Life is busy, full, and more than I could have ever dreamed it would be.

The night blows by, me and Layla using our bartender school skills to make a show out of serving our customers.

When an entirely new type of ruckus reaches our ears, Layla and I meet each other’s smirks.

Boys are home.


Crew

There’s something carnal about walking into a place created, designed, and run by the woman you love that makes you want to puff your chest out in honor of being hers.

And I’m nothing less than honored to be the man behind the brilliant fucking woman who does more in a day than I could in a week.

My gorgeous glowing woman, tucked behind a bar, flipping bottles into the air and spinning with a laugh as she does it.

And I thought she wouldn’t want to be a part of this world. The girl fucking doubled down on it and created something better, dove in headfirst and swam deep. Her ideas are endless, and while I’ve tried to convince her to revamp Sideways Sippin’, even back during the rebuild six years ago that took us five fucking months, she refused to make any changes to what I had created outside of ones that increase profit. She wanted the place to remain the reminder, should I ever need one, that I can do whatever I put my mind to, even when it feels fucking impossible.

Still don’t think I deserve the woman who’s now my wife, but I sure as fuck love how deeply she disagrees, and there’s no doubt in my mind she knows what she means to me.

I remind her every chance I get. With words… and in plenty of other wicked ways.

Thank fuck for grandparents and babysitters.

Speaking of babysitters.

My Sweets thinks she’s slick, that I’m oblivious to what she’s trying to hide.

She couldn’t be more wrong.

I know my girl, I know her body, and I know there’s a tiny little human growing inside it again.

A sibling for Max.

Another friend for Evie.

A second niece or nephew for Drew to look out for.

For Memphis to watch over.

Sidling up to the bar, I lean against it, Willie having already hopped over to wrap himself around his wife, but I play stranger, and Davis bites her lip, desire building in her pretty brown eyes.

“What’s good here?” I cock my head.

“Depends.” She plays along, coyly shrugging and refusing to give me her full attention but winking at the girl she passes a Mango Micha to—Willie’s newest creation come to life. “What do you like?”

My smirk is slow. “Something real… sweet.”

My girl’s eyes dilate, her tongue sliding along her bottom lip. “I think I’ve got just the thing.”

She looks left, jerking her head and Jess appears with a grin, sliding right in as my wife slips off.

She doesn’t look back, so I listen like a good fucking boy, and follow her through the slim hallway, past the employee bathroom and up the half flight of stairs leading to the large flat consisting of the entire top floor—an identical addition the girls also added on at the bar and brewery.

A mini apartment of sorts, one corner set up with a dual-sized desk and file cabinets, the rest bright and blinding with every color of the rainbow, games, and toys, and snacks and anything else our littles might need on any given day.

But it’s the cabinet in the front corner my girl walks straight to, opens, and tugs at.

A twin-size bed comes down from inside and she wastes no time, spinning and falling back onto it, her brown eyes on mine.

“Come here, husband.”

“On my way, wife.” I’ve already got my shoes off, my shirt gone in the next second, pants following and then I’m settled between the softest of thighs.

She wraps her legs around my body, tugging me closer until my cock is testing at her panties, her skirt allowing the easiest of access.

“You wear this for me?” I fist the pink suede, pushing it higher.

“You know I did.”

“My baby knew I’d fuck her the second I stepped inside, didn’t she?” I lick her tits, pressed tight against her tank top, but hidden beneath the stretchy material. “Knew I’d need inside this pussy.” I slide my cock inside in a slow, painful push. “That I missed it. Missed the way it squeezes my cock.” I bite at her collarbone, and she moans into the air. “Squeeze my cock, baby,” I whisper, and she listens.

Doing exactly what I say when I say it.

“Good, baby. Just like that.”

Later I’ll take her over the bar, fuck her while she stares at our slick bodies in the mirror behind it, but for now…

My mouth finds hers, and I kiss her hard, my fingers pressing along her sides until I reach her neck.

I slowly pull the candy necklace from her skin, taking her wrists in mine and holding them over her head. I wrap the stretchy thing around her wrists, smirking as her lips part, her hips pressing up into mine, begging me to move.

My eyes flick to hers, narrowing. “Leave them there.”

“Yes, boss.”

My groan is deep and I pull back, slamming into her until the bed shakes, her body bouncing, so I tear her top down, her left tit popping free.

My teeth close around the pebbled peak and her back bows, her moans growing to whimpers, her legs stretching out straight into the fucking air as she wills me deeper and deeper.

Bringing my knees up under me, I hike her hips up, holding them in the air as I pound into her.

My head falls back, my growls filling the air. “Fuck, Sweets, this pussy’s so good. Missed it. Missed you.”

“Yes,” she pants. “Missed you.”

“You missed my cock. Say it.”

She whimpers, her walls clamping over my dick and making it flex on command. “I missed your perfect cock.”

I grin, dipping down to claim her lips and she sinks her teeth into my bottom one, refusing to let me go, yanking her hands free and sending tiny candies flying around the room. She’s adjusting our position, her ass now in my lap, legs still in the air behind us, hands tugging on my hair as she cries out, over and fucking over.

This position allows me deeper, and with every thrust, her G-spot is poked and prodded. Teased, so I take one of her hands and place it over her clit. Instantly she starts to rub, her body grinding along mine, desperate.

“Come for me, baby. Milk my cock. Take what’s yours and give me what I own.”

She nearly screams, her teeth biting into my chest, right over my left pec and I swear she draws blood.

She pulses around me, her pussy convulsing, her body going limp, so I dip her back, lay her flat and pull out, swiftly bringing my dick to her lips.

I run the head across the bottom one and her eyes flutter open, hunger darkening the brown before me. “Suck me dry, mama.”

My voice is gruff, rough. My cum right there waiting to be claimed.

My baby doesn’t make me wait.

She opens, lures me between her lips and sucks herself off me while drawing the cum from my cock until I’m dripping down her chin. Her tongue slips out, lapping me up and I slide back down her body, pressing into her once more.

“God,” she croaks. “Again. Now.”

“Don’t be greedy, bitch!” Layla’s voice reaches us and we freeze. “It’s our turn!”

The two of us lock eyes, laughing and slowly force ourselves from the bed.

Davis makes swift work of fixing her outfit while I pull mine back on, and then I take her in my arms.

“I love you, Sweets.”

“I love you, too, my handsome husband.”

I kiss her, dropping to my knees in front of her, and her eyes twinkle knowingly. “And I love the shit out of you, little one.” I kiss her belly, slowly rising to my feet.

Tears pool in her eyes and she leans into me. “Are you happy?” she whispers with a smile, already knowing the answer.

Fixing the cherry clips in her hair, I lift her chin, bringing her lips to mine. “I never knew life could be so good, mama, and I promise, it only gets better from here.”

Her smile is radiant, and she wraps her arms around my neck, kissing me fiercely.

My hands tether around her body, squeezing and she jumps up, grinding her—

“Do not even think about it, asshole!” Willie laughs through the door. “Our. Turn.”

Chuckling, we pull away, and I smack her ass. “Come on, Sweets. Let’s go rock the night, so we can get home before our little man wakes up in the morning.”

Davis slides her hand in mine, and we head downstairs.

What started as love let go turned into a deal gone rogue and here we are.

Me and the girl of my dreams.

Us and our boy.

A growing family.

A tight unit.

A complete and total fucking honor I’ll spend my life fighting for, protecting. Loving.

Davis changed my life the day she passed me her little essay from across the cheap iron table at that café.

It wasn’t long after that I made a deal with my own damn self.

Davis would spend her life cherished, loved… and thoroughly fucked.

And my girl? She gives as good as she gets.

Tonight, we’ll work side by side.

Early morning, we’ll make our way home to our son.

And every day after, I’ll continue to honor the deal I made with myself years ago.

I’ll make sure my family knows they’re my entire world.

All I need.

All I ever wanted.

My dreams—the ones I didn’t dare to have—come true.

I’ll spend eternity changing the way the Taylor name is spoken of.

My kids will be loved.

My wife worshiped.

And my life?

More than any man could ever ask for.

They say no family is perfect.

I beg to fucking differ, but tonight, once the club closes, it’ll be my wife who begs, her banging body bent over the bar.

Yeah, life is fucking good, and its lessons only get better…


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