by KD Robichaux
After an hour of spending time with her when we got home from the movie, I ended up just downloading the app on her tablet and signing her into my account, so now she can watch it whenever she wants. And the look she gave me—like I hung the moon and stars—will live in my brain until the end of time.
“So… I’m just going to come out and say it.” I look at her, taking a deep breath. “Whenever the house is complete and ready to sell, I want you and the girls to move in with me.”
Her eyes widen, and she stumbles over to the bed, plopping down beside me with a little bounce. She doesn’t say anything, so I start to explain.
“Any apartment you’d be able to afford on your own wouldn’t be good enough, not what you deserve. And I know you’re all about proving to yourself that you can make it on your own and provide for you girls, but why waste all that money, time, and effort, when I know in my heart that neither of us will be happy until we’re living together.” I take her hand, and she looks up at me, indecision and worry in her eyes. “When I built that house, it was with a big family in mind. So many bedrooms and space to fill with kids, laughter, and memories. And it’s only ever been me and Nick. That house is just that… a house. A big, mostly empty house. And if you and the girls were to move in, it would finally be a home.”
Tears fill her eyes at that, and her lips wobble into a smile. And finally, she puts me out of my misery. “Yes.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “Yes?” I thought I’d have to do a lot more begging and convincing, but then it all makes sense when she laughs.
“That house is like… a Joanna Gaines fan’s wet dream. There’s no way I’m giving up an opportunity to live there,” she teases. “Has nothing to do with the hunk who built it and his magical penis.”
I bark out a single laugh. “Magical penis, huh?” I yank her onto my lap, said penis instantly getting hard as she giggles.
“Yes. It’s completely magical. But before I let you show me any more magic tricks it can do, we need to finish this conversation,” she states, absolutely adorable and sexy as hell when she puts her little foot down.
“Shoot, naekkeo.”
“I know you already said I can have my job back, but I really want to continue only working days, so I can be there for the girls… and Nick now, when they get home from school,” she says, and my heart swells in my chest, thinking about my boy coming home to a woman who will treat him the way a mother should’ve always been treating him.
“Done.” I nod.
“I’m going to continue my schooling, so it’ll be up to you to take care of the kids so I can do my work.”
“Easy,” I reply.
She looks toward the ceiling as if trying to think of her other conditions. “I’m going to need a craft room, my own space for all of my wreath-making stuff. I really enjoy doing it, and I don’t want to give up the money it makes me.”
“Totally doable. Either we can turn one of the spare bedrooms into your space, or I can build you a she-shed in the backyard.”
She practically swoons at that, and she catches me by surprise when she spins around on my lap to straddle me. She shoves my chest, and I allow her to push me to the bed.
She groans, swiveling her hips. “Fuck, Win. I didn’t know you were into talking dirty. Say it again,” she breathes, giving me a naughty grin, and I smirk.
“Naekkeo, love of my life, goddess of my universe, I…” I pump my hips up into her. “…will build you…” I thrust upward again. “…your own…” Thrust. “…she-shed,” I finish, and she moans like a porn star, gripping the bottom hem of her Backstreet Boys tee, whipping it over her head, unhooking and yanking off her bra, and then squeezing her full tits in her small hands.
I know she’s playing around, but fuck if that’s not the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my goddamn life.
She hops off me, and I fight back a pout at the loss of the amazing view. She may make me weak, but I’ll be damned if I fucking pout like a little bitch. I lift my head to watch as she yanks off my boots and then my socks. And then I rock from side to side as she tugs on my jeans, allowing her to pull them down my legs before they disappear.
She leans over me and breathes along the elastic of my boxer briefs before grasping it with her teeth.
I growl, trying not to take over, allowing her to do whatever her heart desires. She tugs the fabric over my aching cock. “Fuck, baby.” I long to flip her over and bury myself deep inside her wet, molten core, but I bask in the sweet feeling of surrendering to her wants. I’m sure it’s an amazing feeling for her, finally giving in to her desire for me, knowing she has so much power over a man so much bigger than her. And I love the fact I can make her feel powerful in this moment, after she’s felt helpless for so long. The look in her eyes screams vixen, and I fucking love it on her.
My cock juts upward, and the sound of her sweet giggle fills the room.
“A little excited, are we, big guy?” she asks my erection. “I feel the same way when your daddy starts talking about custom craft rooms.” She looks up at me and winks.
A single milky drop of precum oozes from my tip. She braces above my hips, her eyes never breaking contact with mine as she leans down and swipes her tongue up my length. I hiss as if she’s burned me with her fiery touch, and the sound makes her grin impishly. I love this new side of her, this confident, sensual woman acting on what she wants. She grasps hold of my steely cock and engulfs the head with her searing mouth, and it takes everything in me not to thrust deeper.
She releases my cock with a pop, smiling up at me, and then she stands, taking off the rest of her clothes. When she straddles me again, she takes my shaft in her tight fist before lining me up with her dripping heat.
I close my eyes and savor the feeling of my length disappearing inch by slow inch as she lowers herself until she has me fully inside her. And then she begins to move, and I lose all sense of the world except for the place where our bodies are joined.
Heaven.
I’ve died and gone to heaven.
She rides me with vigor, her movements desperate as she chases her orgasm, the look on her impossibly gorgeous face telling me she is so close she can almost taste it. I reach up and lightly squeeze her bouncing tits, and when she gasps, I allow my rough palms to slide downward over her silky skin until I get to her pussy. I begin to circle her clit with my thumb, and she drops herself so hard I feel the head of my dick punch against her cervix. She grinds herself in circles, my vision going blurry at how goddamn perfect she feels. My breath starts coming out in pants as I try to stave off my orgasm, refusing to blow my load until Cece has gotten her release.
Her movements turn jerky, less graceful as her face contorts with her concentration. And finally, her body folds in on itself, her face planting against my chest as I feel her walls tighten around me in a vice-like grip. Feeling that, I come so hard I’m scared the power behind my orgasm will hurt her. So I try to be as still as possible while my cock pulses, emptying jet after jet of cum inside her, and she melts on top of me.
Before we’ve even caught our breath, I let out a chuckle, and she lifts her head to look at me. “What?” she asks, her eyes twinkling.
“I was just thinking… do we have to wait until you sell the house for you to move in? Because I could really go for one of those every night for the rest of my life starting now.”
She gives me a sassy smirk as she sits up, my cock still deep inside her. “Depends on how fast you can build that she-shed.” And then she hops off, swinging her hips and winking at me over her shoulder as she makes her way to the bathroom.
37
Cece
Two months and thirteen days. That’s how long it took for the she-shed to be built. I had been halfway joking when I told Winston I’d move in with him when I had my own oasis in his backyard, but he had taken me dead-seriously. Not even a week after my sassy stipulation, he booked the Mayson men to start planning. A month after that, they got to work building it.
That day, he stood me in the center of all the wooden beams, pointing out different aspects, but I wasn’t the best at visualizing what he was telling me without walls.
In my mind, a she-shed was one of those little buildings outside Home Depot that people use to hold all their lawn equipment. I’d seen on Pinterest how people had sheet-rocked the interior, maybe added a window A/C unit, and made it into a one-room getaway outside their home. This, however, was not that.
A month and a week later, I stand in the middle of the main room, surrounded by custom-made floor-to-ceiling holders displaying hundreds of spools of ribbon. One wall is full of deep hooks, naked wreath forms of various sizes ready to be customized, while other hooks are empty, a place to hang the ones I finish. There are two worktables—one at sitting-height with a fancy chair, and one at standing-height. There’s a computer desk in the corner, one with a brand-new desktop computer, a Cricut, and holders full of pens, scissors, and all sorts of other crafting supplies. Finally, hanging on the last wall are deep cylinders on a slant, ten rows of ten columns, and if it weren’t for the various stems of silk florals, I would question what they’re for. But it’s absolutely genius. A place to put all the fake flowers and greenery I use when making the wreaths. I’ll be able to buy in bulk and save tons of money by keeping inventory on hand.
He takes my hand and tugs me up the metal staircase to the second floor. Yes. My freakin’ she-shed has a second freakin’ floor. W-T-F?
There’s a full bathroom, all the way to the right, a kitchenette, and a loft-style bedroom with a queen-sized bed. Everything is bare, and he makes sure to tell me he left it that way so I could decorate it however I want.
“Is this the doghouse? Like for whenever we get in a fight, only it’s me who gets to sleep in this little oasis instead of you sleeping on the couch?” I giggle, but his face goes stoic.
“No, naekkeo. That would never happen. We’ll never go to sleep mad at each other; that’s one thing I can promise you. We won’t go to bed angry. We’ll stay up and fight until we work whatever it is out. And then we’ll have make-up sex and fall to sleep together in our bed,” he says, and my breath catches as I swallow. “This is a guest room, for when family or friends come to visit. Since all the bedrooms in the house will now be full of our children.”
I do the math in my head, counting the kid to bedroom ratio, and it doesn’t add up. “But there are six bedrooms.”
He nods. “Yes.”
“And we only have four kids. Then us in the master,” I say, a zing of excitement zipping through me as I think about the fact that his amazing freaking bedroom will soon officially be ours.
“Right,” he replies.
I look away, my brows furrowed, then meet his gaze once again. “So what’s the last bedroom for?”
“Not what. Who.” At my still confused look, he tells me, “Have you already forgotten, naekkeo? I wasn’t joking when I told you I want more kids. We have yours, we have mine, and soon, I want ours. I want that more than anything with you. And I’m not getting any younger.”
My heart is racing a mile a minute. What do I even say to that?
Nervous as hell, I do what I always do and say the first thing that pops into my head like an idiot.
“Geez, Win. I’m getting a proposal of making a baby with you before I even get a proposal of marriage. What the fuck?” I laugh nervously, swatting at his chest.
And before I even realize what’s happening, he pulls his hand out of his pocket and drops to one knee, my eyes going wide.
“Yeah, about that…” He lifts his hand and opens his fingers, and in the center of his huge, calloused palm is a sparkling silver ring. “Cece, you are the reason for all that’s good in my life. I thought I had everything I could possibly need in this world—my restaurant, my boy, my dream house—but it wasn’t until I met you that I realized I was missing the one thing I needed most. The love of my life. Our fates might’ve taken a really broken path, might’ve gotten lost and turned around a few times along the way, but then they finally crossed each other, and now all I want in this entire world is for the rest of my journey to stay on course with yours.”
My eyes fill with tears, and my chin begins to wobble as he takes my left hand and slides the ring onto my finger. I glance down, seeing the five diamonds, and I gasp at how beautiful it is.
“One stone for me—the big one in the center, and four for the babies we’ve already been blessed with—two smaller ones on each side,” he explains, and that’s when I lose it.
“It’s perfect, Win,” I sob, and I see him smile through my blurry eyes.
“Cece, will you marry me?” he finally asks, and I nod vigorously.
“Yes!” I cry, and he surges to his feet, picking me up on his way to his full height. He spins me around and around, and suddenly we’re falling. I squeal midair until we land on the bare mattress with a bounce, laughing loudly.
An hour later, we’re eating dinner Winston made us at his—well, I guess “our” now—huge dining table. I give him a nod at his silent question, and he grins.
“Kids, we have some news,” he announces, and all their eyes turn to him, forks hovering above their plates where they’d been shoveling in the best mac and cheese ever created. “I asked naekkeo to marry me… and she said yes.”
Lola and Kate gasp and then smile broadly, putting down their forks and clapping wildly. Nick turns his beautiful eyes that match his father’s toward me, the dark orbs going wide as his mouth drops. He’s the first to speak.
“Does… does that mean I get to call you Mom?” he asks shyly, and my heart clenches at this monumental moment. He and I had grown ridiculously close over the past couple of months. I never knew how different having a boy would be from my three girls, but there’s definitely a special bond there between us. He looks at me with stars in his eyes, especially when I show him all the physical affection I give the girls, hugs, kisses, and snuggles on the couch when we’re watching movies. Stroking my fingers through his hair while I’m reading him a bedtime story. It makes me sad to think his mother didn’t give him this love he obviously craved, but then I console myself by thinking maybe he at least got it from his grandparents all this time.
I look at Winston for confirmation, and at his wide smile and subtle nod, I tell Nick, “You absolutely can, my sweet boy.”
He chooses not to make a big deal about it, giving me a happy nod and then digging back into his mac and cheese.
“I have a question,” Ruby speaks up then, and my hand tightens on my fork, bracing for what could possibly come out of my wild child’s mouth.
“What is it, baby?” I ask her.
She turns to look at Winston. “Why do you always call Mommy that?”
“What? Naekkeo?” he clarifies, and she nods.
I answer her before he can, “It’s Korean for sweetheart. He’s called me that since the day he met me.” I beam over at him. But my face falls when Lola interrupts.
“That’s not why, Mommy.”
My head whips around to look at her, my brows furrowed. “That’s what it means, baby. I googled it a long time ago. It means sweetheart.”
She shakes her head. “That’s one translation, but that’s not really what it means when someone calls you that.”
I swallow, glancing over at Win, getting nervous when he just smirks.
I turn back to Lola for her to explain, knowing I shouldn’t question her, since she’s my little resident guru on all things Korean. “Um… okay. So what does it mean?” I ask her.
She grins at Winston and then faces me once more. Shrugging her little shoulders and dipping her fo
rk into her noodles, she replies nonchalantly, “It means mine.”
I stare at her for a moment, even though she no longer pays me any mind as she happily scarfs down her mac and cheese. And then my eyes turn to my fiancé.
“Is that true?” I ask, my voice going as weak as my knees, so it’s a good thing I’m sitting.
He smirks yet again, looking quite pleased with himself as he nods. “That it is,” he confirms.
“So you’ve been calling me yours since the day you met me.” I don’t phrase it as a question, but he answers anyway.
“That I have, naekkeo.”
When I don’t—can’t—respond, he shrugs much like Lola had. “I just knew. And now here we are,” he says, and he gestures around to our kids, who are eating contentedly, at our dining table, in our beautiful dream home, after having taken a most definitely crazy path to get here.
I reach over and place my hand on his, my gorgeous engagement ring catching the light from above and sparkling as I squeeze his knuckles. “Here we are.” I give him a watery smile when his eyes meet mine. “And here we’ll always, always be. Together, in our real-life happily ever after.”
“Boom!” Nick and Ruby yell loudly in unison, startling me, making me jump and pull my hand back from Win’s as I turn to look at them. But it’s only to see them with their heads together over one of their iPads, and it’s then I hear the music of their video game.
I shake my head at my jumpiness and remind them no devices at the table, and when they point out that they’re all done and ask to be excused so they can go play, I shoo them off, smiling at their giggles as they hurry to take their plates to the kitchen.
