by Kaylin Evans
“I want you,” I growl.
“I want you too,” she answers. She takes my hand and presses it to the inside of her thigh, guiding me under her lingerie and up to her bare, soaking wet pussy.
“Oh Christ,” I groan. “I need you.”
Alyssa leans forward, my hand still between her legs, and whispers in my ear, “So take me.”
God, I think she’s trying to drive me insane, and I think I like it.
I wrap one arm around her, twirling her around again and falling backward on the bed so now I’m on my back and she’s straddling me. She lowers down onto my cock, her juicy pussy sheathing me in one smooth motion. It’s like heaven and we both close our eyes for a moment, relishing the sensation.
When I open mine again, Alyssa’s still blissed out, her head tilted back as she rocks gently on my cock. I grab her hips and lift her up, thrusting into her again, and she throws her head forward, giving me a hungry look.
“Oh my God, that’s good,” she says. “Fuck me, Sawyer.”
That’s all I want to do—tonight, this week, forever.
I thrust into her again, as deep as I can go. Alyssa lets out an involuntary moan and puts her hands on my chest for leverage as she really gets into it. “Harder,” she begs. “Fuck me hard.”
So I give it to her with abandon, bouncing her on my cock as we find a rhythm. Alyssa’s hair falls across her face and her expression is pure pleasure. I let go of her hips long enough to drag the straps of her lingerie down her arms and free her perfect breasts, then grab onto her again and slam her down onto my cock so hard I feel the beginning of her orgasm.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she gasps with each thrust, losing herself completely.
I watch her tits bounce and her mouth go slack even as she squeezes her eyes shut. My cock throbs inside her and my balls contract, ready to release. All it takes to send me over the edge is the flood of warmth as Alyssa starts to come on my cock. I lose it too, sitting up and wrapping my arms around her so I can bury myself as deep as possible inside my future wife as I fill her up with my cum.
It’s perfect, it’s incredible, and by the time we both collapse onto the bed, I am equal parts exhausted and ready to go again.
We’ve got all week for that… and this is just the beginning of the rest of our lives.
Epilogue 2
Alyssa
Six months later
I’m standing in front of a full-length mirror trying not to cry as my sister drapes a gauzy white veil around my shoulders.
We’re in a comfy little dressing room on the second floor of a converted barn, and through a window to my left, I can see all my wedding guests finding their seats on the lawn. There’s an altar waiting for me, with the mountains rising up behind it. Sawyer isn’t there yet, but he will be soon.
So will I.
“Hey, don’t cry,” Taylor says. “You’ll mess up your makeup.”
“I’m trying,” I say, taking a deep breath.
I’m not normally the emotional type. When you’re a surgeon, you’ve got to stay calm and collected at all times because you never know what’s getting thrown at you next. But today I woke up with the knowledge that I’d be marrying my best friend, the man of my dreams, the best surgeon I know, and my soulmate—all wrapped up in one damn fine package. And I just can’t stop the emotions from welling up.
“Is Dad out there?” I ask. Taylor and I should be heading downstairs any minute, but I need to know the answer to this one question before I go.
Taylor goes to the window and scans the seats. It doesn’t take her long. “Yep, front row, center. You okay?”
I take another deep breath and nod.
After Tay moved to Hemlock Hills and Dad realized that he was well and truly alone, left by both of his daughters on account of his behavior, something changed in him. He started going to meetings again and he called both of us separately to make amends. He’s even been seeing a therapist, and it seems like, for the first time in his life, he really wants to change and be a decent person.
That earned him a wedding invite, although both Taylor and I are holding him at arm’s length until we’re convinced the change is permanent. I wasn’t ready to trust him to walk me down the aisle, but I do want him here on my big day.
“Let’s go,” I say. “I’m ready.”
Taylor fluffs my veil one more time and now she’s tearing up. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you,” I say. She’s wearing a navy chiffon bridesmaid’s dress, just like Erin, Holly and, surprise of the century, Trish, who’s become a really close friend over the last year. They’re all waiting for us downstairs.
Taylor gathers up the yards and yards of fabric that make up the train of my dress, then we go carefully down the steps. My heart is pounding and I feel dizzy in the best way imaginable as the Wedding March begins to play. I hear everyone outside standing to attention, and Tay fans out my train then steps up beside me, linking her arm in mine. I can’t think of anybody I’d rather have walking beside me down the aisle.
All of Sawyer’s groomsmen are standing in the little foyer with us—Ryder, Finn and Caleb, along with Sawyer’s two brothers, Spencer and Silas. It’s especially nice to see Silas taking his position as best man near the back of the line. He and Sawyer may have had a long rough patch, but now that they’ve gotten over it, it’s like they’re making up for lost time.
“Let’s get you married,” Taylor says, and Ryder pulls open the door.
All eyes turn to us, but when it’s my turn to walk, all I see is Sawyer waiting at the altar. He’s in a crisp gray suit with a single white chrysanthemum pinned to his lapel, and he’s beaming as he watches me approach.
“Hey, slow down,” Taylor whispers, tugging on my arm, and I realize I’ve practically been running to meet my husband.
I force myself to take it slow, drinking in the moment, the scenery, the people around us. Everyone in the world that I care about is right here at the base of this beautiful mountain, ready to witness Sawyer and I professing our love and knitting our lives together forever. The tears threaten to resurface and I take another deep breath, my heart so full and content in this moment.
Finally, we reach the end of the aisle. Taylor stands beside me as my maid of honor, and I step onto the altar and slide my hands into Sawyer’s.
My pulse is no longer racing because I’ve never felt calmer or more at home than I do with this man.
My husband.
My forever.
I can think of a dozen reasons why I shouldn’t want Xander Cane.
Top three?
He’s my boss.
He’s fifteen years older than me.
And there’s no chance he shares my kink.
That silver fox is vanilla to the core, but every time he passes my desk, my thighs clench all the same. I just can’t help fantasizing about the hospital chief.
But when I show up for my weekly dance shift at Masque, I must be dreaming because Xander’s sitting front and center, waiting for me. Well, waiting for Violet, the masked dancer I become when I’m here.
I’ve never found someone to share this side of me with and I sure didn’t expect it to be Dr. Silver Fox, who isn’t so vanilla after all. What’s the harm in a little anonymous fun? Soon I’m giving Xander private dances and unleashing his wild side.
All my fantasies are coming true and I’m falling hard… but what will happen when the mask comes off?
What the Heart Wants is the next book in the Mountainview Hospital series. Turn the page for a sneak-peek at the first chapter in this spicy age gap romance.
Sneak Peek: What the Heart Wants
The bass line is vibrating through my chest and the familiar smells of perfume, leather and booze fill my nose.
I’ve only been here fifteen minutes and I’m already feeling more relaxed than when I left my day job, more at home than I do most other places on earth.
When I took my current job as the personal assistant to hosp
ital chief Xander Cane, I knew the work would be demanding. I also knew I was moving to a tiny town in the middle of the mountains. Not exactly kink central.
So when I found out about Masque, the only club of its kind within a four-hour radius, you better bet I came running. Part gentlemen’s club, part BDSM playroom, Masque caters to high-end clientele, and as the name suggests, privacy is part of the package here.
It’s perfect for me. I come a couple times a week just to unwind and play. I also take one shift a week entertaining—mostly dancing but I do whatever my clients like—and that covers my own membership fee. It’s not like an assistant’s salary is going to pay for a place like this, but even if it did, I’d still sign up for shifts. I love getting up on that stage and knowing all eyes are on me.
“Vi, you’re up in five,” Madam Zora pokes her head into the dressing room to tell me.
“I’ll be ready,” I promise.
I’m sitting at a vanity in front of a lighted mirror, the countertop cluttered with makeup and accessories from a dozen different girls. There are racks of costumes all around me, and the first time I set foot in this room, I thought I’d been transported back to my ballet days as a little girl.
Only with decidedly more crotchless panties lying around.
Same amount of sequins and glitter, though.
I grab a powder brush and a compact and dab the shine off my nose and forehead, then do a quick outfit check in the full-length mirror on the wall. I’m all alone in the dressing room for now, but this will be my last moment of quiet until the club shuts down at two a.m.
Tonight I’ve got on a scarlet-red latex two-piece with delicate chains across my belly and draped cooly over my breasts, and a matching choker. The metal will glimmer in the spotlight when I’m up on the stage, getting everyone’s attention, and then when I descend onto the floor to mingle, it will provide additional opportunities to chain or be chained—depending on which playmates I find waiting tonight.
The final touch is my mask. It’s black and lacy, with a veil that comes down to my chin. If you saw me in it in broad daylight, I’m sure you’d know that I’m Melody Raines… but in the club, in the dimmed lights and the intoxicating atmosphere… I’m just Violet.
I love being Violet.
When I hear the opening chords of my music, I head to the stage. The adrenaline starts flowing, I drop every last ounce of self-consciousness at the door, and I am free. There’s no feeling like it in the world.
The stage is a peninsula with a mix of men and women seated around it. There’s room to strut and dance, and a pole where I’ve been perfecting some crowd-pleasing moves lately. Beyond the stage, there’s a bar and a handful of tables, and in the mezzanine upstairs, there is every type of toy and piece of bondage furniture a twisted mind could hope for.
Up there, those people are in a world of their own. Down here, all eyes are on me. I’m the entertainment, the performer, the star.
I make a circuit around the edge of the stage, teasing and taunting my favorite regulars, who I recognize because we all tend to wear the same masks for continuity’s sake. Some are complete mysteries to me. Some I’ve never even heard speak. Others are less concerned with their privacy and wear the bare minimum in masks, simply because they’re part of the club rules.
I finish my circuit and grab the pole, ready to launch myself onto it and really start feeling the music. But when I make my first spin, I catch a new masked man in the audience and I nearly lose my grip.
There’s a gasp from the other members who noticed my slip.
Shaken, I adjust and spin again, and there he is sitting down front and center.
He’s in the same navy Armani suit he often wears to the hospital, and he’s wearing a wide black satin mask, but I’d know that teakwood cologne anywhere.
Xander Cane is in my club, here to watch me dance.
I lose all momentum and just stare at him for a moment, my heart pounding in my scantily clad chest.
A thousand thoughts flood my mind. Most of them have to do with losing my job if he recognizes me, but the one that ends up louder than the rest is this: I have never been more turned on than I am right now.
With his eyes on me.
His scent invading my senses.
My music pounding in my ears.
He’s on my turf and I’m here to play. He must be too, so I’m going to give him a show he’ll never be able to get out of his head. I know I won’t soon forget it.
Coming September 2021 - Preorder your copy for just $0.99
About the Author
Hi, I’m Kaylin. I live in Ohio with my husband and two adorable, book-nibbling rabbits. I love black coffee and sweater weather, and I’m an unapologetic planner nerd.
My books are for you if you love cinnamon roll heroes, strong heroines, second chances, slow burns, and ensemble casts of close-knit friends.
Let’s talk romance—find me on Instagram!
Free Holiday Anthology
This five-novella series of heartwarming romances is for you if you love a cozy small-town atmosphere, nostalgic holiday traditions, and sizzling chemistry.
These five happily ever afters are available exclusively to my newsletter subscribers.
Get my books now