“My baby is growing up,” I whisper.

He smiles, reaching up to touch my face with gentle fingers. “I love you,” he whispers before kissing me.

“Gross,” a child says before darting off.

We laugh and mingle with guests. Clifton threads his fingers with mine as we stop to talk to Anton about the firm – I’ve made him a trusted advisor and pay him a handsome wage for his services – and where he plans to vacation next.

“I think Spain,” he says, rubbing his chin with one hand. He’s gone almost completely gray, and the lines of his face have deepened. He’s still a handsome man, but I can see the proof of his aging. He sees getting older as a gift he’s grateful for, since he almost lost his life. I feel Clifton’s hand at my lower back and love washes through me.

“I hear Spain is beautiful this time of year,” he says as Katie joins our circle.

Her swollen belly and adorable pregnancy waddle make me so happy. She’s due any day with her second, and our children will grow up as best friends.

Anton smiles at her. “You look uncomfortable, dear,” he says.

Clifton presses his lips to my temple before turning to greet one of the other dads. I miss him instantly.

“A little,” she says with a smile.

“I’m so excited,” I say, reaching out to take a bit of lint off her pretty apple-green dress. She thanks me, and she and Anton begin talking about Spain as I make my way to Clifton’s side.

He politely excuses himself from the conversation and turns to me. “I missed you,” he murmurs and my heart flutters.

“I missed you, too,” I reply. He pulls me close, then releases me. I smile and press my forehead to his.

“I have something to show you,” he says, taking me by the hand and leading me away. “They’ll be fine,” he says as I try to protest.

He guides me into the kitchen to a quiet corner, then into the pantry. Locking the door behind us, he pulls me into his arms. “I still want you as much as I did in the beginning,” he whispers, pressing his lips to mine.

My heart does a little dance behind my ribs as his tongue presses to the seam of my lips, demanding entrance. I open for him and he’s quick to work my skirt up and his fingertips find the heart of me. I gasp as his fingertips begin to dance an intoxicating rhythm that drives me crazy.

“I want you, too,” I whisper, feeling like my words are clumsy because my brain isn’t firing on all cylinders, thanks to his skilled hands. I tremble at his touch, giving over to his loving demands, and he plays my body like an instrument he’s spent a lifetime learning.

I feel the flash of pleasure as my muscles begin to tighten and relax. This has been his method for almost forever, and I love that he always makes sure I’m ready for him before we start.

“I’m ready for you,” I whisper.

At my words, he lets out a sound of pure hunger and lifts me up, pressing my back to the wall, and fills me in one gentle motion. I manage to keep quiet as he pins me to the wall and fills me over and over, the wet slide of our bodies working together driving me to the brink of madness. I’m grateful our passion hasn’t faded, grateful he’s such a good man, grateful we’ve been so happy and blessed. And I’m extra grateful for the way he fills me up as we rush to the finish line.

I don’t want anyone to notice we’re gone, but I also love that he can’t keep his hands off me. I hear him growl and pleasure screams through my core before rippling outward in warm waves of pleasure. He pushes up into me, holding me in place for a moment as I wind my arms around his shoulders and cling to his warmth. Pressing my lips to his, I enjoy the way his tongue teases mine, the way he claims me with his kiss, and the way my heart still pounds around him.

“We’d better get back out there,” I whisper.

He sets me on my feet and we both take a moment to straighten up our clothes and try to look presentable, like we didn’t just have a quickie in the pantry.

Once we’re both satisfied we’re in the clear, we unlock the door. Slipping out, we find that no one missed us while we were gone. But as we make our way toward little Ant and watch him continue to demolish his cake, I’m deliriously happy.

I love my family more than anything. I love the way my life has worked out. I love how amazingly happy we all are. And as my nearly-naked one year old makes a huge mess with cake, smiling, giggling, and eating handfuls, I wonder how things can possibly get better from here. Because I have no doubt things are going to get better – they have every step of the way.

As Clifton’s arms wind around me from behind and the professional photographer takes photos, I wish for a moment that my own family was here to enjoy this moment, and all the others they missed out on. But knowing that my ex is in jail for fraud and that my family still can’t seem to admit they were wrong about him brings me no joy. Maybe one day we’ll repair things between us, but I’m not about to hold my breath.

My life is full. My heart is happy. These people are my family and friends.

Clifton and I have made our happiness and now, we get to enjoy what we’ve built.

It’s an empire, a legacy, a lasting testament that love is the only thing that matters in the end.

THE END

Source: www.seynovel.com