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I raise a brow.
“Because that café has the best nachos.”
I laugh as I pull her into me, and I drop a kiss to her lips. “Oh, it’s not the nachos you’ll be thinking about all day tomorrow."
"You’re right. It’s the cheese pretzels.” She giggles, but then I stick my tongue in her mouth, and she’s not giggling so much anymore.
She pulls back. “Whew. I am one lucky girl. I went from fake dating the defensive back to owning a bakery with the defensive back to getting banged against a window by the defensive back.”
“And pretty soon you’ll be marrying the defensive back.”
Her lips tip up in a smile. “And I can’t wait to get started on our happily ever after.”
EPILOGUE: Ava Maxwell
My New Stepsister Spiked My Face
“Oh my God, yes, yes, yes!” I scream as I claw at the window.
He slams into me harder from behind, and then he reaches around to brush against my clit.
That’s when I fall apart completely.
I’m wearing a dress, but knowing anyone could look up to the top floor and see me getting banged against the window is somehow…hot.
I never thought of myself as an exhibitionist, yet here we are.
In the back of my mind, I think I know nobody could really see us. Well, maybe someone with binoculars. But the risk is still sexy.
“I’m going to come so hard in this tight cunt,” he growls, his voice low and raspy close to my ear.
“Do it, Grayson. Give me all your come.” Whoa. Was that me?
“Oh fuck,” he says, and he rubs my clit a little faster as he starts to come. Hearing his sexy groans and growls only pushes me faster into my own orgasm, and I fall apart the same time he does, both of us writhing in total and complete ecstasy against the window, our moans a beautiful chorus of our pleasure.
“Fuck, baby,” he groans once our bodies are depleted, and he pulls out slowly, careful to reach down as his come drips out of me. He slides it all around my already wet pussy, and I freaking love it when he does that. It’s illicit and hot, like he’s marking me as his.
I am his. Only his—now and forever.
It’s not the only time he’s banged me up against that window. Every few months, he books this suite—usually for special occasions, but not always.
The house we share has become a bit of a revolving door. Everyone wants to come visit—whether it’s his mom, or one of my brothers, or my mom and Thomas, so having our little suite to escape to is especially nice.
He’s already booked it for the night of our bakery opening since both my mom and his mom will be staying with us. We can still have sex at home when we have guests, and we do, but we can have the special sort of loud, headboard-banging sex without worrying anyone will overhear us here.
“So fucking wet. Always,” he murmurs.
“Only for you,” I admit. I never got this wet with Colin, who any sort of below-deck experience was limited to before Grayson, and it was never very good, and it was never sex.
“I love that.” His eyes are already heated on me again, but I shake my head.
“Oh, no, big boy. We have a wedding to get to.”
“Fuck,” he moans.
It’s actually why we’re here tonight. We’re attending a wedding at a little chapel just south of here, and we figured it was closer to get to from our favorite hotel than from home.
And, you know, the window sex. It’s always good motivation to book this room.
