The Mobster’s Masseuse - Page 28

I might have run away once, but I know in my heart that I’ll spend the rest of my life running toward this complicated man. Toward my forever.

EPILOGUE

Walker

Five years later

It’s my fortieth birthday party, but I think of it more as an anniversary. Five years since the day that shook the earth. Changed me. Put me on a path to a rich future full of love, laughter, fights, making up, excitement and a whole lot of sweaty, hair-pulling fucking.

The day I met my wife, Meadow, my love, my life, my heart and soul.

My fantasy come to life.

The mother of my twin boys.

I watch her now as she saunters around the dining room table in a tight red dress, making sure our guests are comfortable. I’d rather she sit on my lap all night and let me feed her, let me pet her pussy beneath the table, but in the last five years I’ve had to learn to let Meadow be Meadow. My wife likes to have a purpose, to be useful, to make people comfortable, and so when we entertain—and we entertain a lot now—she has to make her rounds. And I watch. I watch, because I can never peel my eyes off of her.

A sense of contentment settles over me. Life is extraordinary. My children are asleep upstairs. I’m surrounded by new friends and old. The old friends are from the neighborhood or the families of some of my most trusted men. The new ones are mostly local women, courtesy of Meadow’s massage studio.

True to my word, I opened her a facility overlooking the bay with rooftop massage areas and meditation rooms. I ship in mineral water from California for her bathing therapies. Her client list is exclusive and I perform a background check on every single human being that walks through the door. I have the place surrounded by bodyguards and half a dozen more inside. It takes a lot of work to give myself peace of mind when I can’t be by her side, but it’s worth it, because my wife? She fucking glows with happiness. Knowing I had a hand in that happiness is worth all the efforts to keep her protected and more.

Our eyes meet across the dining room and the conversations taking place around me fade. Everything fades away but her.

Christ, she looks hot as sin tonight.

The dress pushes up her tits but doesn’t constrain them, so they jiggle as she struts toward me and my cock stiffens under the table.

Yeah, I’d say it’s about goddamn time to get her pregnant again.

You’d think my obsession with Meadow would mellow over the course of five years, but it’s grown into an inferno. Taken on a life of it’s own. There is a building across the street from her massage studio and I’ve bought out the top floor so I can watch her work through binoculars. She has no idea how much time I spend fucking my hand while she prepares her massage rooms or straightens pillows in the waiting area. I’m a lunatic for her. My every waking moment is consumed by Meadow McManus.

She still doesn’t put up with my bullshit and when we fight, I’m miserable, but I’m also alive. She keeps me sane and she keeps me on my fucking toes. I don’t take a single moment with her for granted.

Meadow has almost reached me now and as soon as she gets to where I’m sitting at the head of the table, I’m getting her alone. I can’t wait another second.

How am I so relaxed and keyed up at the same time? I suppose relaxed isn’t the right word. I’m never completely that way. But five years ago, I rampaged through the New York operation that targeted me—and had the poor judgment to lay a finger on my wife—so that threat has been eliminated. I left such carnage in my wake that my enemies have receded into obscurity and my businesses have grown by leaps and bounds. No one fucks with me or my family. It’s true what they say. Behind every powerful man is a strong woman—and that goes double for me.

My whiskey glass is refilled by Helen and I thank her, though I’m still holding a slight grudge against her for helping Meadow escape five years ago. It took me a couple of days to put together what exactly happened and I confronted Meadow about it. She told me if I fired Helen she would cry. And when I still hesitated, livid over being betrayed by someone on my own staff, Meadow got down on her knees and unzipped my pants, begging me with her mouth to be lenient.

So Helen is still here.

Did I mention my wife is a fucking magician with her mouth?

“Hey,” Meadow says as she reaches me, leaning down to kiss my lips. “You look deep in thought over here.”

Source: www.NovelCorner.com