Hiding with the Mountain Man (Rosewood Ridge Fire #5)

Epilogue

WYATT

T onight, I put our toddler to bed. Mina needed a break. She’d been working hard on her book, squeezing time in during the early morning hours before little Chloe woke up.

But Chloe was tired from our trip to see my in-laws in Knoxville. We’d spent a good four hours at the zoo, and that plus the drive had worn her out. That meant she went to sleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow.

It was a typical Saturday night in that my two older kids were spending the night with separate friends. Between their social lives and extracurriculars—Aiden was heavily involved in sports and Harper regularly camped with her scouting troop—we were mostly chauffeurs these days.

I had my mouth open as I turned the doorknob on our bedroom door, planning to announce all was great with our little one. But instead of sitting in bed under the covers, staring intently at her laptop as she’d been when I left her, Mina was on top of the covers, naked.

Her laptop was on the bedside table next to the tumbler I’d given her for our fourth wedding anniversary. World’s best author , it read.

“I need help with a scene,” she said. “It’s been a while since I’ve written one that takes place in bed.”

A smile broke out over my face as I whipped off my T-shirt. My sweatpants immediately followed.

“Leave on the underwear,” she said when I slid a thumb under each side of the waistband.

“Will do.”

I headed straight for the bed. But she stopped me before I could climb on top of her.

“Stand right there,” she said. “I need to see if this works.”

I opened my mouth to say something—I had no idea what—but before I could get a word out, she moved to a squatting position, calves folded under her, and tugged down my underwear.

She looked up at me as she began stroking me with her hand, then slipped her lips around my rapidly growing erection. I assumed she was testing out whether her character could easily give a blowjob while squatting on the bed.

That was a very obvious yes. I just hoped that wasn’t all the research she wanted to do.

Mina’s career was thriving. She’d pitched the first fireman novel to her agent, but in the end, she’d decided to publish it herself. It was a good thing. She was doing better than ever on her own.

Not that we needed the money—it was nice that it freed us from having to worry about putting food on the table. It also let me leave the construction crew to start my own landscaping business. It was seasonal work, but the demand was high, and during the Christmas season, I did some extra work hanging lights for local residents and vacation rental owners.

“What else do you need help with?” I asked, my voice tight. I hated to stop her, but no way was I coming in her mouth.

She shrugged and sat back, but she had a teasing smile on her face. “That’s all.”

“Maybe you can help me with some of my research,” I said. “Lie down.”

“I have a better idea.” She patted the bed. “ You lie down.”

I had no idea what she was up to, but with Mina it was sure to be interesting. I went around the bed and laid down in my spot, shoving off the covers. She moved over and straddled me, but not at the waist. No, this time she moved all the way up to my shoulders.

“This may make for an interesting scene in one of my books,” she said.

That was what I loved about being married to a romance author. She had a very vivid imagination, and that made things interesting in every aspect of our life, but especially the bedroom.

I positioned her over my mouth and began licking her as she gripped the headboard. Within seconds, I had her quietly moaning and sighing, her hips gyrating as I took her toward orgasm. Eventually, she removed one of her hands and began touching her breasts, caressing the nipple before squeezing it between her thumb and forefinger.

“Oh,” she said quietly, her voice hoarse. “Oh yes.”

She came in less than two minutes, returning both hands to the headboard and riding the waves. I started to sit up as she moved off my shoulders, sated, but she pushed me back down.

“Stay,” she said.

She maneuvered herself to my midsection, looking down at my full-fledged erection as she positioned it at her entrance. She closed her eyes as she took me in, and the expression on her face was like someone who was eating a delicious dessert after being on a diet for months.

The funny thing was, it hadn’t been months. We had sex at least five times a week. Usually before bed, but sometimes in the morning. Whenever we could sneak a quickie in, we did.

I was so caught up in watching her, I didn’t focus on the sensations at first. If I did, I would’ve lost it at the feel of her wet pussy around me, hugging my cock as she bounced up and down. Her movements grew quicker, and she began touching herself, moving her fingers over her clit as she cupped her left breast with her other hand.

That alone threatened to send me over the edge, so I had to squeeze my eyes shut and try to think of something else. Anything but her above me, her eyes closed, her bottom lip caught beneath her teeth.

She somehow managed to avoid crying out when her second orgasm hit her, but I knew it was happening. I felt her pussy contract around my cock. And then I was coming too, opening my eyes and taking in the full sight of her. The most beautiful sight in the world.

I rode my orgasm all the way to the end, savoring every second of it. And then I pulled her into my arms and held her, savoring that too.

“That was amazing,” she said. “I might have to go write some more.”

I took a deep breath and slowly let it out, a smile spreading over my face. “You go do that,” I said. “But first, let’s just lie here for a few minutes.”

That was exactly what we did. We didn’t even speak. Holding her quietly was enough. But she knew as well as I did that I’d be fast asleep in no time.

And she was right. I only woke up briefly as she slipped from the bed to grab her laptop. I turned on my side, smiling to myself as I drifted back to sleep. Having her writing next to me while I slept made me feel content. Especially now that I knew I’d helped with her research.

It was a tough job, but somebody had to do it.