“Fuck, Tiffy. I think you’ve been practicing.”
“No need to practice, Fletch.” She grabs my hard length and gives me a squeeze. “I learned from the best.” And then she wraps her mouth around me and I moan.
Her sucking starts slow, but increases in intensity as my head falls back and I fist her hair, pushing her towards me. Urging her on. Wanting more with each passing second. I pull away to stop myself from coming down her throat in a rush.
“I want more,” I whisper. “I want to make this last all fucking night.” So I take her hand and guide her up off her knees so I can kiss her mouth. “Finish what you started,” I say in a gruff voice.
She places both palms on my chest and pushes me back until I bump into the bed and sit down. She straddles my lap, our eyes locked together. “You want me to tease it out of you?” she laughs.
“More than anything else in this world, Tiffy.”
She smiles knowingly. The shy girl from last summer has found her stride. She reaches behind her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall forward just a little bit, just enough to give me a peek at her full breasts as they drape against her ribs.
I moan again. “Fuck.”
She slides the straps down her arms until I have a full view, and lets the bra fall into my lap. I reach for her, cupping her soft breasts, and this time she moans. I ease my face down to her nipple and take one in my mouth, sucking on her gently.
Her hands wrap around my head, fisting my hair in encouragement. I reach behind her ass and stand up, taking her with me. And then I toss her playfully down on the bed and watch her tits bounce.
“I really want you,” I say.
“Please,” she whispers back. “Take me.”
I kick off my shoes, drag my pants and boxer briefs down in one swift movement, and then kick them aside as I reach for her panties. She lifts her hips to give me access, and those panties go flying off over my shoulder.
Her legs come up, the shyness plastered across her face once more. And I die for that. Just die. I hike her knees up to her face and press my mouth to her pussy, letting my tongue swirl around her clit until she’s wriggling beneath me.
But I’m paying close attention to her. I monitor her moans and squeals. The way her legs clamp against my neck when it gets intense. The way she arches her back when I suck on her clit and stick my fingers inside her.
And just when I know she will explode, I stop.
“No,” she moans, so sorrowfully I almost feel guilty.
“I want to come with you this time, Tiffy.” I grab a condom out of my wallet and roll it onto my cock. She watches me, her attention one hundred percent on what’s coming next.
Us.
We’re coming next.
I ease into her, filling her up, and she clenches against me. Squeezing my shaft with her muscles and letting me know she’s so very, very close.
Us.
That’s the next chapter in our story.
Us.
I don’t fuck her. I love her. I love her hard and soft. Far longer than I should be able to with the heat of our desire and the rising intensity.
I savor every moment until we peak together and let out months of regrets, filling ourselves back up with a lifetime of possibilities.
We miss the show.
But no one cares.
We are right where we are supposed to be.
Epilogue
One Year Later
“Life is a game and everyone’s a player. Whether you believe it or not, the only thing that matters is the score.”
I’m so excited, I have to take deep breaths as we watch the season one premiere of Sexy in the Landslide bar. Everyone is here. Claudio and Steve. Samantha and my piece-of-shit brother, Walker, who I am learning to like again, even if it’s just in small in increments. And, of course, the whole staff of the hotel and the cast of our revamped Mountain Men show.
When I finally forced myself to leave Tiffy’s new and improved penthouse, I went back to LA to negotiate the terms of the contract. Since the screenplay was based on my experiences as a male stripper here at the hotel, I wanted the show to be true to how I wrote it. So I offered up the Landslide as the location.
It was hardly a negotiation, since the studio thought it was a great idea. And it kept me close to home while we were shooting.
The hotel has been balls to the wall since the opening night of Mountain Men 2. The show was off-the-charts popular, and we have a franchise in the making with a contract being negotiated for Vegas and a traveling show that will start touring in a few months.
Her dad would be proud. She manages the charities she left his billions to in addition to the hotel. And me. She manages me too.
I chuckle and have to hide a smile so she doesn’t think I’m up to something when she drags her eyes from the TV and looks over at me. God, that girl. She’s everything to me.
We got married on Valentine’s Day on the beach just outside. It was my idea. Who knew I was such a romantic? But I’m fooling myself. I’ve always known it. And I guess that’s why I was so pissed off when Walker left Samantha when she got pregnant. Sam hasn’t quite forgiven him for that either, but she’s trying. He’s trying too. And as Tiffy often reminds me, everyone makes mistakes, so I cut him some slack and let him find his way forward with the family he regrets leaving behind.
Tiff and I found out we’re expecting our first baby last week. The first of many, I hope. So in a few months life will be… I have to stop and catch my breath, that’s how fabulous life will be. I loved every minute when I was helping Samantha bring up Shelly, so I can only imagine that joy will overwhelm me once my own little person comes into this world.
When I made the decision to sell the house it felt like a failure. For about… five hours. Because that’s the amount of time that went by until I met Tiffy at the show that night. And that meeting has changed my perspective on everything.
Each of us gets a life and each of us gets to live it the way we want. I wasn’t in debt to my granddad’s wishes any more than Tiffy was to her mother’s. We do our best and no one has a right to ask us for more. And who knows, maybe one day that house will be up for sale again and I’ll be in a position to take it back.
But I’m not waiting around for it.
Because I was right. Life is a game.
And there are many ways to win it.
xoxoxoxoxoxoxo
END OF BOOK SHIT
Welcome to the End Of Book Shit (we call them the EOBS for short). This is where I get to say whatever I want about the book. In the Merc Book (Meet Me In The Dark) I had a lot of explaining to do (so dark, that shit scared me.) In 321 I had a very cool back story. Like, that EOBS was so fucking epic, it’s going to be narrated by me in the audiobook. In Social Media I really bitched up a storm about serials. And pricing of them. Those were epic as well. LOL. I pissed off a lot of people with those I bet. ;) But you know what they say, if you can’t take the heat…
So this book is special to me in two ways.
First the concept. I was at the Cleveland Author Event in April this year (Yay – that signing is one of the best out there!) and a few members of my Street Team were with me and one of them got us all tickets to go see Thunder Down Under (Thanks, Bella!) And that show barely started when my assistant, Jana, and I looked at each other and said, “We need a book!”
It’s not the strippers. OK, yeah, it is. But the whole show was just fun. They took this grandma up on stage and stuck her hand down their pants, and grandma giggled like she was a teenager. She got her picture taken and had a great time. They had brides-to-be on stage. They had the girls who did just about anything to get a guy’s attention practically dancing on tables. I bet there really are girls who go to these male revue shows for a chance to go home with a stripper like Fletcher. And I bet there really are guys like Fletcher who look for a new possibility every time he goes on stage.