He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. “Fine. I won’t give you anything else. With one exception.”
“What would that be?”
His eyes flicker briefly towards the open window where pedestrians are passing by on the street, then back to me. Slowly, he lowers himself, pressing kisses on my stomach, his gaze dipping lower as his hand dips into my pants.
I smirk in realization. “I think I can allow that exception. But just for you.”
His hands press against my thighs as he meets my gaze with a soft, wicked smile. “Damn right. You’re mine.”
My heart swells at the words. I am. His. Completely. I am his, and he is mine, and strangely enough, I’m not scared anymore. I’m not scared at all.
I’m ready.
Epilogue
Quinn
Tonight’s the night. My stomach is fluttering with nerves as I wrap my coat tighter around me to shelter from the cold. Stepping into the front room, I can’t help the broad smile that spreads across my face despite my nerves.
“Welcome to Mel’s, can I take your coat?” The hostess, Emilia, greets me with a knowing smirk.
I roll my eyes at her, but slip out of my coat nonetheless, letting her take it. She nudges my shoulder. “You’re fashionably late, aren’t you?”
I shrug. “I insisted on taking the train.”
Emilia pulls back the velvet curtains and lets me into a dream.
My dream, to be specific.
It’s been two years since I stood in this empty room and told Wesley I loved him for the first time. Now, what was once a dilapidated diner is my very own upscale restaurant. With Wesley’s help, I was able to become friends with other restaurant owners in the city to learn the ropes. I kept working for Rita part-time while I spent the last two years getting the restaurant built and hiring people. It was a lot of work, but we managed to get it all together. Best of all, Manny agreed to join as my head chef. I realized that while I love cooking, I enjoy managing all the workings of the restaurant, not just the kitchen. So, I leave the cooking to Manny.
Wesley finally moved out of the hotel and back to his place in Dumbo and eventually convinced me to move in with him. It took a lot of arguing before I agreed — I’d insisted for a while that it was too soon, but I couldn’t really afford to keep my own place and truthfully, I was sick of hearing him nag me about it.
Another thing he convinced me to do was start therapy. Our fight made me realize that my time as a sugar baby had really impacted my self-esteem. As I started to remember that time and work through it, certain uncomfortable memories came back to me. It was hard, but Wesley was by my side every step of the way. We even did a couple of joint sessions. He’s working on listening better when I share my feelings about that time instead of getting angry and overshadowing my own emotions. We both have a long way to go, but I feel grateful to be on this journey with him.
Glancing around at the grand room, I feel a sense of calmness. Rightness. Like I’m exactly where I need to be.
The familiar scent of pine and sandalwood surrounds me as a pair of soft hand circle around my waist.
“How do you feel?” Wes murmurs, pressing into my back. His breath is soft on my neck as he curls his hand tighter around me.
Breathless, I turn to him. “Terrified. Excited.” I run my hand along his jawline. “Grateful. Horny.”
He chuckles and presses a soft kiss just next to my mouth, the type of kiss that always leaves me wanting more. “I am so proud of you. Everything looks amazing.”
“I couldn’t have done it—”
He presses another kiss to my mouth, silencing me. I groan against it, suddenly wishing we were in private. He tastes like peppermint. “Nope. You get all the credit tonight, baby.”
He steps back and twists away from me. When he turns back, he somehow produces two full champagne flutes and hands one to me. “To you. I love you.”
I clink my glass against his and we both knock back a gulp, our eyes locked over our glasses. I lick my lips afterwards and his eyes dart to the movement, his expression darkening.
He steps closer to me and drops his voice to a whisper, his breath hot on the side of my neck. “You look absolutely delicious. I am having all sorts of inappropriate thoughts. Mostly of abandoning this night completely so I can spread you out like a feast.”
I knock back the rest of my champagne and ignore the shiver of delight rushing through me. He can always sense how his words affect me, because he slides his fingers along my thigh, teasing at the hem of my dress.
“I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
