Page 27 of Vintage

“Do you really see it that way?”

"Yes..." A smile broke free on my lips. "And, I would absolutely love to have three little Amerys." The certainty in my voice made her laugh out loud, her laughter echoing in the stillness of the night, and my heart raced as if I were falling for her all over again.

Her name spun in my mind like a sweet melody, filling my dreams, but being here with her felt even better. A reality where I could touch her, kiss her, fuck her, whisper sweet nothings, and after all my wild thoughts, still seek her forgiveness and call her mine.

"So..." she said, licking her lips.

It might have been our first real night out since moving to Willow Crest two weeks ago, but I could already envision us making this place our forever.

"So... three girls, huh?"

I recognized that look better than anyone—the warm, spicy cinnamon heat in her gaze. How could anyone resist falling for her just from that eye contact?

“Three girls, for sure.” I smiled, pulling her closer as she rested her hands on my chest. With my arm around her waist, she tilted her head, biting back a smile, and let out a deep, contented sigh.

"I'd love that. So, three girls it is."

As I held her tight, our lips met. Each breath exchanged felt like more than just a simple kiss; it was my wife, her intoxicating presence ensnaring my heart, mind, and soul. I was willingly on my knees, begging for her mercy.

Some people can convey everything through their words, but I struggled to make my special someone feel unique compared to how I treated others. It was challenging at times, but it all boiled down to intent. My gestures often went above and beyond, something only a few could grasp, while others questioned my sanity and morals.

But she embraced it. She accepted me and all that I am, yet I still felt uncertain and scared... scared of losing her.

"Ro," she breathed my name, drawing me in closer.

When her tongue explored my mouth, a low groan escaped my throat. I cradled her face, brushing my lips against hers, kissing her softly, lost in the brilliance of her eyes.

She whimpered gently, pulling me nearer. I captured her lips, my tongue diving deep as if I were quenching a thirst that had lingered for days.

It was a passionate struggle, our lips molding together, tongues dancing, teeth grazing and claiming, every moment raw and coursing through my veins down to my bones.

The moment I released her, we both gasped for air, yet the electric tension between us remained undeniable, the desire for more pulsing through our bodies. I needed her, and her eyes reflected that she needed me just as fiercely.

There was a hint of grace in her small smile, and despite any lingering doubts, one glance from her brought a wave of calm over me.

"The lovebirds are out for a late-night stroll? Should I remind them about the public obscenity laws?"

I shut my eyes, letting out a warm breath, stifling a growl that threatened to escape.

Fucking Darius. This guy has no life of his own, and just because I walked into his bar and got everyone so hyped that he made some extra cash that night, I’m now stuck dealing with him and his so-called creepy friendship.

I have a decent circle of friends, but none are like him. Self-centered and fucking infuriating.

"Tell me, Mrs. Rowan, I’m having a nightmare," I murmured against her forehead, and her sweet laughter rang out, sending blissful shivers down my spine.

"Man, he’s really whipped," Darius chimed in again, and my blood began to boil.

I stepped back from Amery and glanced sideways at the road.

Darius was on his bike, flanked by two of his crew members, all of them staring at me and my wife. That bastard had a grin that made me seriously consider murder.

"Didn’t I tell you last time we met to ignore me if you ever saw me?" I shouted, loathing his smirk.

He feigned hurt, pouting, which only made Amery laugh harder while his guys behind him fist-bumped, grinning.

"Oh, don’t act so naughty. I get it, you want to have some fun with your wife, but if I’m being cock-blocked, who are you to get lucky?" He smirked, and I started plotting how to dispose of his body.

Maybe I won’t need anything; I could just bury him behind that old Victorian house by Willow Tree Lake.

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