Taste of Commitment (Whisky and Risky #2)

Epilogue

KNOX

TWO MONTHS LATER

You would think someone who’s been living out of two suitcases in a single bedroom wouldn’t have that much to move. Wrong.

I should have known when I had to build exposed shelving in the kitchen for all the coffee mugs Taylor had accumulated over the last three months, that her room was likely overflowing with stuff, too. I can’t complain though. I’ve never been happier than I am when she comes home with a new coffee table book and says, “We needed it.” She’s made our house a home, and today is the day she officially moves out of her little corner room. I say officially because unofficially, this has been her home since the morning she decided to stay.

I set a box of various vases and bowls on the kitchen table, and Mi Hambuguessa hops up alongside it, head-butting the brown box. I scratch the soft spot between her ears and then head down the hallway to the bedroom. I find Taylor sifting through a pile of clothes on the bed, I stand behind her as she hooks the dainty strap of her green dress onto a hanger.

She drops the garment and turns around to face me, her fingers already working on the button of my jeans. I take a quick glance at the clock beside the bed and decide we have time.

“What’s going on, Browning? You’ve been checking the time all day.”

“I’ve just been waiting for a good time to fuck you in your new house.” Her lips pull up as she sits down on the edge of the bed. I cup her cheek and trace her lips with the pad of my thumb. “So fucking pretty, Nova girl.”

She looks up at me through a thick fan of lashes as she pulls my thumb into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing out when she sucks it. The sting of her teeth causes my breath to shutter as she rakes them down my finger before dropping me from her mouth.

She lays back on her piles of clothes while scooting up the bed and sliding her pants down, exposing her bare legs and a purple lace thong.

“You’re going to ruin your dress,” I say, pulling out my already hard cock from my briefs and letting my pants fall to the ground. I stroke myself, loving the way it excites her and the way her tongue wets her bottom lip as she follows my hand with her eyes.

“Fuck the dress,” she taunts me with the words she spit at me the first time we did this. Months later and it still somehow feels just as exciting as that first time.

I check the clock once more and lose all restraint as I rip her thong off and push into her in one quick motion.

Her back arches from the bed as a hissed breath escapes her. I slide into her slow and deep until she’s scratching and clawing against my back.

“Knox,” she whimpers, her fingers digging in for more.

“I love the way you look on your back, completely exposed for me.”

“Yes,” she breathes. “More, give me more.” A guttural moan reverberates in my throat because I love my needy girl.

“Knees up, love.” Taylor’s pussy clenches my length as she lifts her legs and squeezes them against my torso. Her fingers run through my hair as she cries out my name and I rock back and forth, knowing damn well I’m hitting that spot hidden so deep inside her.

“Yes!” she wails. “Oh god?—”

I drop my mouth to her, covering her cry with a searing kiss as the heat licks up my spine and we’re both moaning as the release hits us.

I hold myself over her, as our breathing ebbs and flows, her hair sticks to a light sheen of sweat in the crook of her neck, and I press the strands away before kissing that pulsing spot. I’m hit with my favorite scent. The one that’s brought me so much comfort over the years. The one she calls desert rain and cactus flower. The one that can only be described as her.

TAYLOR

Knox comes back into the bedroom with a warm washcloth and glides it between my legs.

“I know getting up is probably the last thing you want to do right now, but we do need to get dressed,” I groan, rolling over, clutching the pillows closer to my naked body. “Here, these should make it easier.” Knox lifts my sweatpants from the corner of the bed and begins sliding them up my legs .

“Is there a reason for this?”

“Yes,” he murmurs while kissing the top of my head.

“What could poss—” My words stop, and my head whips to the front of the house, where a honking sounds. I look to Knox, who says nothing but nods his head toward the door.

I throw on one of his hoodies while hesitantly walking to the front door.

My lungs collapse and my eyes bulge out of my head. I pray my legs hold firm as I run down the porch steps and Camila leaps into my arms. Her unruly dark hair sticks to the tears that have immediately fallen from my face and her legs wrap around my waist as I squeeze her and we make sounds that are undoubtedly concerning the men watching us.

But we don’t care.

Our souls are together again.

I might be the only person in the world who has loved moving day.

Camila and I sit out on the porch swing, huddled under a blanket, watching the sun dip behind the mountains.

“So what do you think?” I ask.

“About the view?”

“All of it.” After we pulled ourselves together and gave quick introductions, we gave Camila and Miles a tour of Emerald Browning Cottage before dinner.

“I think.” She sits up, looking at me. “It’s almost as perfect as you.” Her voice cracks and her lips wobble and I feel the sting start behind my eyes. “I love that you found someone to capture your wild heart, Tay. Of all the places I’ve been in my life, being on the receiving end of your love has always been my favorite. ”

The tears fall, freely, and I pull my deep-feeler girl back into me, holding her in one of my bone-crushing hugs.

“Whether here or there. Then or Now. You know the deal,” I choke out.

“Whisky and Risky forever, baby,” she cries alongside me.

My throat might burn but my heart is so full.