Her Older Mountain Man - Page 11

“Love these plump little tits,” he says. His hips are building up speed now, and I rub my clit even harder to keep pace. “I love how they overflow my hands and how they look with your curvy little body.”

His hands slide to my hips, holding me tight as he slams inside, bouncing me against him with every thrust. My thighs tremble as my pussy starts to contract around him again, and I’m almost ready to come one more time.

“I’m about to come, angel,” he groans. “Come with me.”

My fingers go wild on my buzzing clit, and we go over the edge again together, shaking in our shared pleasure until we drop to the blanket, breathing hard in each others’ arms.

“Maybe a break before the next round,” I muse as he pulls me close, dropping a kiss on my forehead. “You’re old, you know.”

Owen swats my ass playfully. “I’m forty, I’ll have you know. And I’ll show you old.”

He rolls me over, and to my delight, proves to me that forty isn’t so old after all.

Epilogue

Owen

(Seven months later)

“Time for another push,” the doctor says from her perch at the end of the table. I reach over and kiss Colette’s cheek, brushing her dark hair back as she grits her teeth and goes for it.

“You’re doing great, angel,” I say, trying to keep my voice calm and confident for my wife as she works to bring our baby into the world.

Mywife.Ourbaby.

She’ll tell you that she dragged me to the courthouse, but I’ll always swear that I was the one who did the dragging. Either way, we got hitched a couple of months after we met. She wore a little white dress, her baby bump just visible as I held her hands and repeated our vows in front of the judge. I would say that she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen, but she’s more beautiful to me every day. Never more than right now, as she takes a deep breath and bears down to deliver a new life.

We haven’t heard anything from Luke since that day at Koffee Karma. Not unless you count his signature on the documents that he signed to formally relinquish his parenting rights. In the eyes of the law and in Colette’s heart and mine, I’m the father of this baby.

“One last push,” the doctor says. “One big push and you’re done.”

I grip Colette’s white-knuckled hand in mine as she pushes, a holler escaping her beautiful mouth. A split second later, a tiny cry rings out, and we look up to see the doctor holding our squirming baby.

“It’s a boy,” I murmur, a tear trickling down my cheek. “Dark hair just like yours.”

She holds her arms out and they lay our new son on her chest, draping a blanket over him as he gazes up at her, blinking slowly in the bright new world.

“Jesse,” she says to me. “What do you think about Jesse?”

We decided not to find out the gender in advance, and we hadn’t even really settled on a boy’s name yet. Jesse–my grandfather’s name, the same grandfather who left me my mountain and taught me how to live in harmony with the land and creatures–wasn’t even on the list.

Another tear drips down my face. “I love it,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her mouth. Our happy tears mix, warm and salty. “I love you.”

The baby starts to root for her breast, and I step aside as a nurse moves in to help her latch him onto her nipple. I watch in quiet wonder as he nurses, gently touching his dark hair as his eyes flutter closed.

“Baby Jesse,” she whispers. “After your grandfather.”

She looks up at me and smiles. “Your first son. But not your last.”