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EPILOGUE AMBER
Our second wedding is a spectacular event, though I didn’t mind the first one.
Both sets of parents are happy, especially Noah’s mother. She’s giddy. The reception is the biggest blowout New York has seen in quite some time. Lots of people.
Finally get to meet Sarah, Noah’s sister. She’s a sweetie. Beautiful and brilliant as well. A quality all the Daltons seem to possess.
Noah and I leave the reception early. Time for the honeymoon to begin. I beg him to tell me his plans, but he refuses. “Can’t,” is all he’ll say.
We don’t have to go home for our things. They’re already packed and on the plane.
“We’re clear for takeoff, sir,” the pilot says to Noah.
“Let’s go.” Noah and I sit down and buckle up. He takes my hand. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
For no particular reason, I pull his hand into my lap. Ten seconds later, I’m horny as hell. Who am I kidding? I’m horny all the time now that I’m pregnant. Who knew?
Once we’re in the air and the pilot gives the all-clear, Noah gets up and has a word with the cockpit crew and flight attendants—there are two on this trip.
By the time he gets back to me, it appears we’re the only two on the plane. He pushes a button and reclines my chair. “What are you doing?”
He doesn’t respond with words but drops to his knees and pushes my skirt up. Pulls my panties off. My stomach flutters when he places my legs over his shoulders and smiles at me. Two orgasms and twenty minutes later, Noah is making his way to the bathroom to clean up while I remain lounged back wearing the biggest shit-eating grin known to man.
He’s the best.
* * *
The plane lands in Paris.
Two people unload our things and put them in the car. We pile into the back seat and are driven to a hotel. Our room is scenic. The Eiffel Tower stands tall through our window.
“This is beautiful,” I comment.
“So are you.”
The way he says it. Oh, my.
My hormones kick into overdrive.Vroom.Vroom.Vroom.
I move toward him. Jump on him. We fall onto the couch, and I straddle him.
He rubs his hand over my T-shirt and caresses my breast. I changed clothes on the plane after the two orgasms.
I grind my ass into his already hardening cock. I want us naked. I need us naked. I shift and unbuckle his pants. Unzip them. The tip of his dick is poking out the top of his underwear.
My mouth waters.
I stand and pull off his shoes, his pants, his shorts. Grab his cock with my hand. Feel it pulsate. I glide my fingers up and down the shaft. Velvety smooth. I love touching it. I also love tasting it. I go down on him. Lick him and kiss him. Take his entire cock in my mouth.
He moans and groans, and his body gyrates. I don’t play nice and get off him. Strip down while he loses his shirt. Crawl back on board, and his dick slides right in.
“That feels good,” he says.
Does it ever.
I drive my fingernails into his chest and ride him hard. Fall off onto the floor when we’re through. Noah shimmies off the couch and lies next to me. Holds me.
“I love you, my husband,” I tell him.
He kisses me tenderly. “I love you, too.”
I look back on that day with fondness. The day a man clumsily came into Macy’s in search of a gift for his mother, and a woman who happened to be in the right place at the right time.
Was it all luck or divine intervention?
Who knows? And does it matter?
I don’t think it does because it’s all worked out. And dreams do come true.
