If This Was a Movie (Evergreen Park #2)

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

One Year Later

Nate

Her breaths are shallow as I press soft kisses down her neck, my fingers sliding through her wet pussy. “Please,” she whimpers, hips bucking.

It’s the night before Christmas Eve, and Jules is naked on her back in my bed, begging for me.

The perfect present, in my opinion.

We’re supposed to be wrapping gifts for Sophie so we don’t have to stay up until midnight like last year when we assembled a dollhouse at the last minute, but we got a bit…distracted.

That happens a lot with us.

“I’m gonna eat you, but you gotta be quiet, Julianne,” I say low, pressing a kiss to her neck. When she looks at me, her hands in my hair tugging my head back, I’m reminded why I fucking love this woman.

“Make me,” she says, taunting me, and I smile wickedly.

“Okay.” Then I flip us so I’m on my back and shift her until she understands what I’m trying to tell her, moving until her pussy is over my face, my cock in front of hers. “Put your mouth on that; it’ll keep you nice and quiet,” I say, then put a hand on her hip to pull her down and run my tongue from her clit to her entrance.

She starts to moan, and my hand moves down, pressing on her back. And then she takes me in her mouth, muffling the cry. Instead, it reverberates down my cock to my balls, a torture of its own.

I groan in approval into her cunt, and her hips buck toward me, my tongue sliding into her. Then I start to devour her, alternating between sucking on her clit and sliding a finger into her pussy with fucking her with my tongue. Her mouth slides down my cock as she moans again, one of her soft hands moving to cup my balls the way she knows I like, and I groan once again into her.

We continue this cycle for what feels like a blissful and torturous eternity before she starts to move faster, riding my face, muffling her cries as she sucks me off. She’s close, and when my hand moves back to slap her ass, her entire body shakes above mine. My cock slips into her throat as she moans, coming on my tongue. She continues to ride it out, my cock in her mouth, before her body slackens just a bit, her mouth moving faster to even the score.

But that’s not what I want.

My hand slaps her ass. “Go, baby. You did good; now ride me.”

She removes her mouth from my cock, her long, dark hair moving over her shoulder and grazing my thigh as she looks behind at me with a wicked smile on her lips.

“Glad I got your approval.” I have a witty response on my tongue, ready to continue to banter with her, but then her hand wraps my cock as she shifts, tugging once, twice, three times, and I groan aloud. “Now, who is supposed to be quiet?” she asks.

“Still you. Now go,” I say, and she laughs before moving down my body as she sits up and positions her wet cunt over me. She rubs the tip of me along her wetness until she notches the head inside.

A sigh leaves her pouty pink lips, ones I know are swollen from sucking me off, before she slowly, torturously slowly, sinks down on me, moaning as she does. My hands go to her hips, fingertips digging into lush skin to stop me from slamming her down, letting her take whatever time she wants or needs. It’s a tight fit like this, the way she’s leaning forward just a bit, and her knees are spread on either side of me.

Next time, we’re doing this with a mirror in front of us.

Or a camera, making a movie of our own.

“Oh, god, fuck,” she moans, once she’s seated and full of me.

“Quiet, Jules,” I say through gritted teeth as she clamps down on me, slides up, and then slowly glides back down. “You have to stay quiet.”

“I’m trying,” she whispers now, a plea in her words. “It’s so fucking good though.” She leans back a bit, a hand moving up to pull at her nipple. Her other hand rubs at her clit leisurely as she slowly fucks me, occasionally moving down, fingers spreading over where we meet, grazing the underside of my cock as she fucks me.

My balls tighten, wanting to spill inside her, and god-fucking-dammit, I need her to get there quicker. I shift us, moving so I’m sitting up a bit, changing the angle, and making her moan before moving her hand away and taking over playing with her clit.

“Nate!” she moans, her body stilling with the loud noise. My hand moves up, covering her mouth as she starts to move over me, fucking herself on my cock, my fingers rolling over her swollen clit.

“Bad girl,” I groan. “Couldn’t stay quiet, so now I have to keep you quiet.” She moans again, her head tipping back to my shoulder, the wetness of her pussy loud in the quiet room. We need to get a fucking noise machine in here for nights like this. “You’re so goddamn wet for me, aren’t you? Can you hear it?”

She nods under my hand, her pussy tightening as I continue to murmur in her ear. “You feel so goddamn good, Jules. I want to be buried in you forever, fucking you always. Next time it’s just us, I’m going to make sure you’re so fucking loud the neighbors hear. I’m going to pound into you, make you scream my name. But right now, you need to be quiet, and you need to fucking come.” Her hips buck, and I know she’s close as a rush of wet slicken my cock.

“That’s it, Julianne. Fuck my cock,” I groan through gritted teeth. “Take yourself there and take me with you.” Another deep moan is muffled by my hand, followed by the tightening of her pussy around me.

I’ve learned Jules loves this; this, stay quiet, or I’ll make you game of ours. She loves being under my control, loves when I find creative ways to keep her quiet, be it with my cock or a pillow. Last month, I balled up her panties and shoved them in her mouth while I fucked her from behind.

She came especially hard then, but tonight, I think she’s going to beat that one.

I tighten my hold on her mouth as she shrieks beneath my hand, as her hips buck, and my finger moves frantically on her clit before she tightens around me, her entire body going still.

That’s when I let go, groaning into her neck to dull the sound as I lift my hips into hers to get deeper, filling her with pump after pump of my cum. I move my hand, letting her catch her breath as we both come down before flopping back on the bed, panting.

A moment later, she slides off me, both of us moaning with the loss, and she rolls beside me.

“Good enough?” I ask, and she mumbles something, probably a curse or two, before slapping me on the chest. I laugh, standing and moving toward the bathroom for a wet washcloth before coming back out and cleaning her up. She mewls with pleasure as I graze over her swollen clit, and I smile.

“If we wrap presents quickly, we can go for round two.” She glares at me, and I laugh before rolling off the bed and throwing the washcloth in the laundry basket before moving back to her. “Come on,” I say, slapping her ass. “We have some wrapping to do.”

She looks over her shoulder at me, then groans, flopping on the bed with a sigh, and I can’t help but laugh. “You were the one who bought Sophie eighteen thousand gifts and who says they all need to be wrapped.”

“They do,” she grumbles. “Even the stockings.” Thankfully, all of the gifts I bought Jules were already wrapped in the spare closet, something I took care of while she was at the end-of-the-year party for First Position. “I just don’t like leaving your bed.”

“ Our bed,” I remind her. It’s been a year since my grand gesture to convince Jules of where she belonged and her moving in for good.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” she grumbles, standing up and reaching for her pajamas. “Our bed. Come on, Donovan. You’re not getting out of wrapping just because you gave me an orgasm.”

“Two,” I correct her, and she rolls her eyes.

“Come on. I’ll get the wrapping paper, and you will get the gifts.”

And then, as always, we move as a well-oiled machine, wrapping gifts for Sophie, my sisters, Ava and Harper, and my family.

And we only take one more fuck break.

A success, if you ask me.

There is a pile of paper covering the living room floor, various patterns and colors, ribbons, and bows mixed in as Sophie opens her last gift—some new set for her Ashlyn dollhouse Jules decided she had to have.

“That’s it, Soph,” Jules says as she smiles at our girl, who is looking around like something isn’t right. “What’s wrong?” Jules asks, unsure.

Sophie takes a moment before pouting. “It didn’t work,” she says grumpily.

“What didn’t work?” I ask, sitting back and fighting a laugh at her dramatics.

“The Christmas magic, it didn’t work.”

“What do you mean, sweetie?” Jules asks. She’s absolutely the worst at keeping secrets, as evidenced by her widening smile she can’t fight. It’s why I didn’t even tell her my plan until a couple days ago, instead having Jaime help me secure and hold on to Sophie’s gift for a bit. As Jules assumed, Jaime and I have become fast friends, both constantly dealing with the chaos that is our women and the schemes they brew up. He’s a quiet guy, but when he does talk, it always makes me laugh.

“Last year, I told Santa I wanted Daddy to marry the real life Ashlyn. And you guys aren’t married, but we’re working on it, you know?” She gives me wide, knowing eyes that Jules misses, thankfully.

Jules snorts out a laugh before nodding. “Okay?”

“And this year, I told him I wanted a cat because Dad said I wasn’t ready, but if you ask Santa and you’re good, you get what you want .”

“Well, that’s not exactly how that works, Sophie,” I say, sitting next to Jules.

“But it is how it works,” she says, flailing her arms. “And I was good! What was the point?!”

Jules rolls her lips into her mouth to fight a laugh before finally putting our girl out of her misery. “You know, I think there’s one last gift,” she says, tipping her chin toward the tree, where deep in the branches is a pink wrapped gift.

“What? No, there—” she starts, then spots it, bolting up. She’s gotten so fucking tall in the last year, my little girl is not so little anymore. I can’t help but wonder how long Jules will want to be married before she’ll want to try and give Soph a brother or sister.

I hope it’s not too long. I don’t know if Jules knows yet, but since they got married last summer, Jaime told me he and Ava are starting to try for a kid of their own. I know Jules would love nothing more than to have kids around the same age as her best friend.

Sophie grabs the small box and starts tearing the paper without any hesitation. Jules looks at me with a soft, serene smile as she stands, quietly walking toward our room to get the gift Jaime dropped off last night after Sophie went to bed. Soph opens the box to find a small pink collar, her eyes going wide as she looks at me.

“Daddy?” she asks, but her eyes move quickly to the hall where Jules, in the matching pajamas she bought all of us, is stepping out of our bedroom, a small white cat in her arms. “OH MY GOD!”

“Merry Christmas, Sophie,” Jules says with a smile. “It’s not from Santa because he can’t bring real animals on his sleigh, but he told us you wanted a cat, and your dad and I decided you’ve been so responsible, watching Peach and all, that you earned one of your own.”

Sophie's eyes start to water, and I watch Jules’s follow suit.

I shake my head. My two girls, total crybabies.

“Can I hold her?” she asks, her voice soft.

“Sit down,” Jules says, and Sophie runs to the couch before Jules hands Sophie the incredibly gentle and chill kitten. Instantly, it curls up into our daughter’s lap, settling down to go back to sleep. “Oh. My. Gosh,” she whispers, eyes wide. “Daddy, do you see it?”

I nod, and I look up to see Jules taking photos and videos of Sophie. “She’s cute, Sophie. But you’ve gotta take care of her. That means cleaning the litter box, making sure she’s fed, and playing with her every day.”

“I will! I promise!” she shouts, and even though she’s only six and I know she probably won’t remember most of the time, I smile and nod.

“I know.” Jules and Sophie talk about the cat, Jules probably sending a million pictures to everyone we know, and I move, grabbing one last gift I hid in the corner before setting up my phone, knowing that’s what Jules would want.

“Hey, dollface, I’ve got one more,” I say, and her brow furrows. We’d talked about making sure all gifts were done before we gave Sophie Ashlyn, the kitten, but I also knew then I was lying. “Humor me.”

She rolls her eyes, sitting next to Sophie right where I expected, and I hand her the box, sitting on the edge of the coffee table to watch her unwrap the box, then taking the lid off. When she gasps, I can’t help but smile. She lifts out a frame—the matchbook from that very first night—between two panes of glass.

Her hand goes to her face as she looks from the frame to me to the frame again, her eyes watering as she does.

God, she’s so fucking cute.

“Just like your parents,” she whispers, and I nod.

“There’s more,” I whisper, watching her brow furrow, but she sets the frame aside, Sophie now watching along smugly as she reaches down into the box, pulling out a small matchbox.

Strike up a happily ever after, it reads on the outside.

“Nate,” she whispers, and I move, grabbing the small box from her.

“I ran through every movie we’ve watched where he proposes and tried to think of one to recreate, but nothing fit. In Love Actually , he proposes at her work, but that isn’t your style, even if I could have used the kids and gone full Meet the Parents . In Sweet Home Alabama , he closes down Tiffany’s for her, but that engagement ends, and I’m not letting in any bad vibes. In The Wedding Singer , Adam Sandler sings on a plane, but I think you’d rather die than have that happen.”

She laughs and sniffs, her lower lip wobbling before nodding her agreement.

“So I went with the one that feels the most…us.”

“A matchbox,” she whispers, a single tear falling.

I swipe at it, then slide open the box, grabbing the ring before moving to one knee. Jules gasps even though I know she’s already put together what’s happening. Sophie squeals with excitement, stomping her little feet and probably terrifying her new cat, but my eyes are on Jules.

Like they always are.

“You want to be loved madly, and I am absolutely crazy about you, baby. I want to make every single day movie-worthy for you. I want you to make Sophie’s Christmas wish come true: become my wife, become her mom. I want to convince you to give her a brother or sister or maybe two.”

She’s crying full out now, and I swipe at her tears once more. “Such a crybaby,” I whisper, and she slaps my shoulder.

“But I love you. I love you so damn much, Jules, it’s insane. I know to my soul that you were meant to be mine and that there was always some string tying us together. Even when we tried to ignore it, it pulled me to you, and I’m so fucking grateful it did. I’m so grateful you were in that bar on New Year's. That your pipe broke and that Claire was moving out. That Sophie made that wish, and all the pieces fell into place until we found each other again.”

I sigh. “Let me love you madly. Let me make your life a fantasy. Let me give you the fairy tale ending you deserve. So, Jules, will you marry me?”

I hold my breath as I wait for her answer, but I don’t have to wait long as she nods rapidly, holding her hand out so I can slide on the ring. Once it’s there, a classic princess-cut Ava and Claire helped me pick out; she stares at it in awe, like she can’t even imagine this just happened.

“If this was a movie, I think this is where you guys would kiss,” Sophie says, breaking Jules from her reverie as she laughs out loud through the tears, swatting playfully at her.

But I take our daughter's advice, putting a hand on each side of Jules’s face and pulling her toward me, pressing my lips to hers as we start our own happily ever after.