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Before she reaches the door, she spins around to face me, her angry expression disappearing before my eyes. “Wait a minute. Did you say you loved me?”
Reality hits me like a brick. I did say I loved her. I have never told a woman those words, and Harlow Jane pulled it out of me in six days. But it’s true, and I won’t deny it to save face. “I love you, and I understand if you think we’re moving too fast.”
Harlow offers her hand, and I thread my fingers in hers as she leads us into her kitchen. She places the box of muffins on a counter and walks around the island to retrieve Buster, who’s made himself comfortable on a shelf. Carrying him like a baby, she scratches his head and strolls toward me. “We are moving too fast, Felix. Last night wasn’t a mistake, but if we’d known each other better and longer, you wouldn’t have jumped to conclusions about me and another man. I’m a one-man woman, and unless you pull this crap again, you’re my man.”
“So, what are you saying?” I ask, needing clarification before I mess things up further.
“Can we slow down?” It’s a fair suggestion, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I love this woman, and I want to build our life together. The sooner, the better. But impatient as I am, Harlow needs time. And I need to suck it up and give it to her.
“Whatever you want, baby. But does this mean no more sex?”
The smile on her face quickly vanishes. Shaking her head, she props Buster on the kitchen island and covers his ears. “Don’t mention sex in front of my son. Of course, there'll be sex. We’re just getting started.”
EPILOGUE
3 YEARS LATER
My greedy mouth sinks into Harlow’s pussy, glistening and primed just for me. I fucking love the feel of her thighs against my stubbled face, watching her twist in my arms and hearing her cry out every time my tongue makes contact with her clit. She's a dream come true.
“Papa Bear! That feels so good.” A burst of honey fills my mouth as I push my tongue between her folds.
“I bet you love it when Papa Bear feeds on your honey,” I growl like a bear and let vibrations roll across her swollen bud, lashing it without mercy. I’ll never get enough of her like this. Open and ready to be devoured.
She nods and arches her back, spreading her legs as she screams into a pillow. I hate when she muffles her moans, but neither of us wants to frighten Jensen, our rambunctious toddler snoring down the hall.
"Papa’s so good to me,” she breathes, panting as I fuck her with my tongue, stabbing furiously until her trembling thighs cling to my face and her ass levitates off the bed. It’s fucking glorious, each and every time.
“Should we get ready?” I place my hand over the slight swell of her abdomen, smoothing her prickled skin while I finish eating her out. She’s three months pregnant with our second baby, and we have yet to tell a soul. She’s waiting for her parents to arrive from Sycamore Mountain later today to give them the happy news.
“Is that it? Papa’s done?” she whimpers, covering her belly as she rolls to one side. This is my fault. Harlow came to me a virgin, and I turned her into a glutton for sex.
“Your parents are due to arrive in thirty minutes; knowing them, they’ll arrive early. Do you really want them to catch us like this?” I help her to her feet and escort her into a waiting bath—the one she ran before I tackled her and threw her onto the bed.
“Will you check on the cats and make sure the boxes are clean? I’ll run outside to visit the catio after I get Jensen ready.” She fusses with her hair and pulls it into a messy bun.
“Jensen is ready. He passed out in his Sunday best, but I’ll check his diaper and brush his hair. Stop trying to do everything.” I close the bathroom door and rush across the hall to wake my sleepy son.
Today is Father’s Day, and tomorrow is Jensen’s second birthday.
Shortly after my forty-first birthday, Harlow made me a daddy. It would have happened sooner—Lord knows I tried my best—but we took our time. My lovely wife wanted me to wait a whole year before proposing. Thankfully, I knocked her up in early fall, and we married over Thanksgiving in North Carolina.
She claims I did it on purpose, and she’s right. I’m an impatient man.
“Nothing about Papa Bear in front of my parents. The last time you slipped up, I had to make up an unbelievable story that no one bought. I don’t want to add fuel to that fire.” Harlow busts into Jensen’s bedroom, strips him naked, and redresses him in an alternate Father’s Day jumpsuit. I swear, this kid has so many clothes, and more wardrobe changes than Cher.
“Leave the stories to me, darling. I get paid the big bucks to make shit up.” I pat her ass, then pull her into my arms, molding my lips to hers once more before her parents make it awkward.
“Daddy’s read your latest book. And by the latest, I mean last year’s release. I love that you’ve found your words again, but you’re too prolific for my father. So, don’t tell him your latest book is out. He's a slow reader, and you’ll send him into a panic.” Harlow spins free from my bear hug, lifts Jensen, and places him in my arms.
“Happy Father’s Day, Papa Bear.” Harlow kisses my cheek, then peppers Jensen’s face with enough kisses to make him squeal. I don't know what I'd do without her.
THE END
