DELETED EPILOGUE

NOTE FROM LESLIE: Too much sex.

So.

It’s here.

Epilogue—Isak

Seven years after graduation

I open the door to our room, and Lachlan gasps. “Wow, this is even better than I’d imagined.”

He’s adorable. We’re in Mykonos, at the hotel he’s been asking to go to for a year or more. It’s a warm evening, and we have our own swimming pool.

This is going to be amazing. The sky is brilliant blue. All the buildings are pristine white.

“This feels like it’s out of a painting,” I say. “Or a photo in a cheesy Greek restaurant. It seems unreal.”

We drop our luggage, and Lachlan pulls me to him for a kiss.

“Okay, that’s definitely real,” I say.

There’s a large bed piled with white pillows, a modern-looking bathroom to the side, a seating area, and … our pool.

Lachlan and I look at each other. We don’t need to say anything to know we’re skinny-dipping immediately.

We both shuck our clothes and go outside. I stay behind him until we get in the pool, so as not to spoil my surprise. The water temperature is great—refreshing but not too cold. We get in and sigh with happiness. It was a long trip to get here, but … worth it.

After all these years together, I’m still so attracted to Lachlan it’s not funny. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and drag him to me. He laughs and pushes me to the side of the pool, chest to chest as we kiss. The warm breeze sweeping over our shoulders makes me shiver in pleasure. Our semihard cocks brush against each other. Which of course means they don’t stay semihard for long.

Not that he needs to touch me to make me hard. Because there’s nothing hotter than Lachlan Hammond.

Yeah. He took my name. He said he never felt like a Doyle anyway. I cried. My mom cried.

He’s on pretty good terms with most of his family now—his mom has stayed sober, and we see his nephew and sister fairly often. His grandma is in assisted living, age catching up to her, but she seems to be doing as well as can be expected. His uncle has stayed away, and good riddance. I don’t want to think about that jackass while we’re in Greece—or ever.

I rub against my husband, wanting friction. Wanting to get even closer.

Though how could we possibly be closer, physically or emotionally?

Except.

Except he keeps surprising me, always in a good way. By now, you’d think he couldn’t surprise me, but no matter how kind I expect him to be—to me or to others—he finds a way to do more. He thinks of things to do for me that I didn’t even know I’d want. And while I suppose my modest expectations are on me, Lachlan never fails to raise the bar.

People say that young love doesn’t last, but there are lots of examples of high school sweethearts who beat the odds.

Like us.

Lachlan’s hair is shorter than it was in high school. I love it any length, although it’s tougher to grip when it’s like this. His cheekbones are sharper, and he’s got better muscle definition. We’re both eating better than we did as teenagers. We’re good for each other. He’s talked me into running, even though I hate it. And we watch foreign films together. Although he’s better at languages than I am, I’m still more of a movie buff. We both like the sad, naked, weird realness of French New Wave movies.

“I want to fuck you,” he murmurs.

“I’m glad to hear it,” I murmur back against his lips. “I prepped.”

He smirks. “How prepped?”

“Butt plug and lube when we stopped in the restroom at the airport. I’ve been leaking all over my underwe—”

Before I can finish the sentence, Lachlan is bending me over the side of the pool, pulling out the plug, and nudging my entrance with his cock. He kisses my shoulder. “You good, or do you need more lube?”

“Good,” I whisper.

And he presses his gorgeous hard cock into me. I suppress my loud groan, because we are at a hotel, and although there are walls on either side screening us from view, I assume we could be heard.

But I look out at the sea surrounding this Greek island as my husband enters me, and I think this—this is bliss.

He rocks his hips steadily until he’s fully inside me, his hip bones to my ass.

No matter how many times we’ve done this, I never quite get used to the invasion. To how it feels to be so full, overstuffed with him. It stings a little, but my husband is gentle.

“I love you, Isak,” he whispers. “I love you so fucking much.”

I brace myself against the side of the pool. “I love you, too. Now please rail me.”

Lachlan chuckles. “Okay.”

He grips my hips firmly and pulls out, then thrusts in. Then does it again. And keeps on doing it.

It’s so fucking perfect. He knows what I need, and luckily it’s what he needs, too. I could explode with happiness.

I love the way his leg hair brushes against mine. I love his soft grunts when he gets close. I love how his hardness is evidence that I turn him on. I just love him.

And I love how he grips me firmly but also tenderly. How he protects me while using me for his pleasure. How he gives and takes.

How I’m his, and he’s mine.

And we can face the world together.

I hear voices nearby, and that makes me even harder. There’s something about sneaky public sex that gets to me, and Lachlan knows it. He starts almost dancing behind me, teasing this out. He’s fucking with me while he fucks me, and that might be my new favorite thing, even though I want to whine at him to finish me already.

I push my ass out further in invitation, and he groans.

That was a little loud. I stifle a giggle.

And then he’s plunging into me in long, firm strokes. The kind that make my eyes roll back in my head from pleasure. The kind that push me steadily toward an orgasm. He’s going to take me there, and it’s going to be great. Sometimes I can tell when an O is going to be epic, and this is one of those times.

Bare skin and warm air. Water and sea. My husband fucking me within an inch of my life in Greece.

Yeah.

I can expire just like this, no complaints.

He scoops a hand around and strokes me, and I’m nearing the edge. I know it. He knows it.

I lose myself in the rhythm he’s setting. In how he’s dominating me right now and I’m letting him do it because I love when he’s like this.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?” Lachlan whispers in my ear, his lips tickling my skin.

“Yeah,” I gasp. And seconds later I’m coming into his hand, losing myself in the incandescent pleasure of a full-body prostate orgasm.

We both groan, much too loudly. I’m sure our neighbors could hear that, if not the slap of our bodies and the water splashing.

Oh well.

He shoves up into me, throbbing, and I love the sense of release I get when he comes. I’m just as happy to feel his pleasure as my own.

He leans against me, chest heaving, as he comes down off his high. I crane my head over my shoulder, and he kisses me ravenously.

“Fuck, babe. I loved that,” I whisper.

“Me, too.”

“Should we get cleaned up and see the rest of the resort?”

#

We shower together, and then, sparkling clean and temporarily sated, we go to dinner, where the handsome young waiter gives us fresh bread and the older, grizzled one tells us, “It’s a beautiful night. You should be drinking ouzo.”

So we do, even though the taste isn’t totally my thing. But when in Greece, it seems appropriate.

The island breeze ruffles Lachlan’s short hair, which is still damp from our shower. He’s tan because it’s summer, and he’s sexy because he’s him. He touches his foot to mine under the table, because on some level we’re still the teenagers we were when we first got together.

“What are we going to do tomorrow?” he asks me.

“Anything we want.”

He stares at me. “I know you have a plan. You always have a plan.”

“Do you want it to be a surprise?”

Lachlan thinks about it and nods.

“Then just you wait, babe,” I say. “We’re going to have the best day tomorrow.”

“After we finish having the best night tonight.” He winks.

#

I lie naked in bed next to my husband, the sky over the Mediterranean outside our windows filled with stars.

I love his body. I love how beautiful it is, and I love that it houses his beautiful soul.

I know that what he went through as a child and teenager made him stronger and more compassionate. It also left him with a dark side that he trusts me enough to reveal to me. And I can be all pink and sparkles at times, which makes him laugh.

“I am more in love with you than ever,” I whisper.

“I’m more in love with you than ever,” he replies.

Warm skin against warm skin. Tangled limbs and kisses everywhere.

This is paradise.