“Oh, it’s obvious,” he says, kissing closer, “but I still want to hear it.”
For a second I hesitate. Then I grab his hair and blurt out: “I want your mouth on me. Now.”
The way his pupils blow wide I don’t even care that I sound desperate. He licks my thigh. “My pleasure.”
And then his mouth is exactly where I need it. I don’t even know what I’m babbling next, only that it’s heaven, pure, blissful heaven.
Later, we’re tangled up, skin still buzzing, and he’s stroking my hair like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever touched. I blush remembering how those same fingers were in my curls earlier, guiding me when I…
“Did you notice you kept saying you found heaven and it’s my mouth?” he asks suddenly, voice tender and amused. I cover my face with both hands. “I said that out loud?”
“You sure did. You said other things too.”
“Other things?”
“Oh yes.” His smirk is so smug I have to laugh. “Plenty of other things.”
“Oh God.”
“Yep. You said that too.”
I groan and climb on top of him, kissing his neck just because I can. “It’s not like you stayed silent. You were swearing.”
“I bet I was,” he says softly. “You wrecked me. I’m a ruined man because of you, Cole Hudson.”
I smile, still pink but proud too. “You’re getting all swoony again.”
“What can I do? I love you.” His teasing fades into seriousness.
I rest my head on his chest. “I love you too. Even if I’m so awkward.”A beat. Then I mumble: “Xaden? What if you get bored with me—”
Xaden cuts in, firm and rough. “I can’t. Our whole story’s tattooed on my body. You’re permanent, Cole.”
His words make me shiver in the best possible way. I kiss the corner of his mouth and lick his lower lip, making him swear under his breath. “You do have a lot of tattoos,” I say, smug now. “One might think you’re obsessed with me.”
“One would be right.” He kisses me back, lazily at first but when I slide my tongue inside his mouth, he flips me on my back, effortlessly, staring at me with so much heat and love, I can’t help it.
I blush.
This — us — feels like the happiest happy ending of all time.
EPILOGUE
Two months later: Royal Gala Dinosaur Jubilee
I told Mom we were planning something simple for Noah’s fifth birthday. Cake, juice boxes, maybe a piñata shaped like a moderately accurate stegosaurus. Although Noah’s starting to show signs of growing out of the dinosaur phase. Ever since Xaden moved in with us, Noah’s been having a Xaden phase. Yesterday I caught him trying to do push-ups. This morning he honest-to-God winked at me.
I’m standing in my parents’ yard in the middle of what can only be described as Prehistoric Extravaganza. In hindsight, I maybe should have told Mom: “Please don’t book a bagpipe quartet. Also, color-coded welcome stations? Not necessary.”
There’s a sign that reads ‘NOAH HUDSON’S ROYAL FIFTH: A Dino-Majestic Celebration’ in gold foil letters.
Caspian strolls past with a crown on his head and a bite-size cucumber sandwich in one hand. “Somebody just told me the Fossil Cake has been unveiled. I’m scared,” he confesses.
Noah’s soaking up the attention, reminding me so much of Lizzie. He’s already received three presents, each more overindulgent than the last, and he’s currently shouting “I’m King of the World!” from a gold-painted throne Mom commissioned from a theater rental place. Sammy bows to him, offering him oak leaves. I don’t even ask. But I do make a mental note of making sure Noah realizes this extravaganza has nothing to do with the real world out there. Also, I’m going to have to have that same talk with Mom.
“I thought you said this would be a small gathering,” Antonio mutters as he joins us later, coming straight from work.
“That’s what I ordered,” I sigh. “But I also explicitly said I didn’t want a snow globe collection when I was ten and I got twelve.”
