Keep Me Extended Epilogue:

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Roan

I crack my knuckles, flexing my fingers and focus on the fresh air coming through my nostrils. I stand back on the sidewalk as Reggie approaches the Den’s big wooden doors. She looks over her shoulder at me as her hand wraps around the brass handle. I give her a small nod to go ahead. 

I've been practicing staying calm while she goes through doors alone for weeks. I can thank Dr. Wong for this particular type of torture–exposure therapy. At least it seems to be working. The screaming panic that took up residence in my chest when Reggie got near a door is now a muted holler. I can hear rational thoughts over it, I can breathe through it. 

The lingering pangs of anxiety wash away as we enter the pub's dining room. It makes room for a warm feeling I haven't been able to name. Walking into a room full of my brothers and our closest associates never used to create this sense of ease, of coming home. It was always a reminder of how I didn't fit in. No matter how hard I tried to be the perfect soldier, to not give my family another reason to resent me.

When we walk in, I see Lochlan tossing our niece into the air and his lightness. Old bitterness that he can be so carefree because he doesn’t remember mom doesn't strike me like it used to.

I smile as Niamh's buoyant giggle is as bright as the mid-morning sun streaming in the big front windows. Lochlan catches her and instead of squealing to be thrown again, she reaches her chubby little arms out towards us.

"Hola, mija," Reggie coos. When she tries to take Niamh from Lochlan, her sweet face scrunches and she shakes her head of blonde hair. Her arms shoot back out towards me and I look behind me at a loss for what to do until Reggie nudges me. "She wants you, tonto."

"Me?" My heart stutters in my chest. I've held her before. Four months ago, when she was only a week old, swaddled and milk-drunk. She looks at me expectantly with Harlow's piercing green eyes and my stomach twists. "Uh...I'm good. She's good."

Reggie laughs and takes her from Lochlan who is enjoying my discomfort way too much judging by his lopsided smile.

"I'm gonna miss her while me and Stella are away," He brushes a kiss on her forehead before turning away calling, “I got it!” to Harlow’s holler for an extra dirty martini.

Reggie passes her off to me, my arms held straight out as I hold her two feet away from my body. She squirms and tilts forward like she's trying to close the distance.

"My god, Roan, she's a baby, not a live grenade." But that's exactly it, I don't think tiny humans are my thing. I’d rather a bomb than a baby.

They are so wiggly and soft, squishy and bubbly. She presses her to my chest and I hesitantly wrap my arms around her small body. She instantly melts onto my shoulder and I stand ramrod straight as she sighs, nuzzling her hot cheek against my neck.

Reggie's eyes soften, melting into something adoring. She opens her mouth but before she can say anything, I say first, "Don't you dare 'aww' me." She bites back a smile and shakes her head with a shrug.

"Wouldn't think of it." She glances around the pub, empty except for our people. A long table takes up the middle of the floor with bouquets of sunflowers. "Looks like you got this handled so..." She begins to shuffle away with a smirk.

I call after her, "Wait, what am I supposed to do with--"

"Baby, Roan. Not grenade." She winks and dashes away leaving me with this chubby blob of a baby who is quickly falling asleep.

I stand stock still, not sure what to do. Do I wake her up? Leave her be? Pass her off to the next person? This is her party after all, does she get to sleep through the whole thing even if she has no idea it’s for her?

I can feel her belly inflate on deep, rhythmic breaths and I find myself slowing my own to match hers. She only stirs a little and the weight of her on my chest is somehow comforting. I notice Cash approaching and I shift her in my arms, trying not to look like a total fool.

"For someone who didn't want to be a babysitter, you sure seem to get stuck with it a lot." He jokes, brushing the wispy, golden hair off his daughter's forehead, but doesn't take her from my arms.

His eyes still on her, he smiles wistfully and swallows. I hold my breath waiting for whatever he's about to say. Nervousness swirls in my gut.

His gaze rests on his heir, our future, as he says, "I don't say this enough but," he clears his throat and finally looks me in the eye, "I'm really fucking proud of you, brother."

It's the last thing I expected him to say and instantly makes my throat tight. Emotion pounds in my chest. He tugs on his shirt sleeves and his lip twitches like he's too uncomfortable with the depth of this exchange.

He holds out his arms and I pass a dozing Niamh to him. She quickly settles into the crook of his neck as he holds her with one arm.

He places his other hand on my cheek and his bright blue eyes pierce mine. "You're a good man, Roan. A good protector."

Again, a response becomes impossible as my throat tangles into a mess of something equally heartbreaking as heart-warming. I didn't know how desperately I needed to hear his words until they settle in my chest and my lungs fill more deeply than ever before.

He must sense I am at a loss because he gratefully forces a soft chuckle and pats my arm, "Let's eat, huh?"

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Niamh's Christening brunch passes with fluffy biscuits, eggs benedict and these godforsaken mini sandwiches. Our family hasn't gone to a church service since our mother's funeral and this "christening" is no different.

Our mother would never let her granddaughter go unbaptized, so for her sake, Cash invited a priest to do the ceremony at a table of criminals in the middle of a pub.

The pub that was my mother's pride and joy though. In a way, what could be a better tribute?

I meet Reggie's eyes as she licks a dollop of cream from the strawberry shortcake served for dessert from her spoon. She keeps her facial expression family friendly but the burning flames in her eyes scorch my core.

I ball my hands into fists on the table as she sets down the spoon and reaches under the table cloth. She leans forward slightly, then wiggles in her seat. My jaw tightens, heart rapidly pounding as I wait for her hands to reach for me under the table.

Instead of her palm sliding over my thigh as I expected, she withdraws her hands from under the table and stands. She rests her hands on the back of my chair and whispers in my ear, "Now be a good boy and meet me in the back."

Before she leaves, she drops her black, lacy panties in my lap.

I shake my head with a quiet chuckle. Goddamn do I love this woman.

I wait a few minutes before excusing myself. My senses sharpen as I stalk to the back of the restaurant. My tongue buzzes for her taste. My skin hums for her touch. My body burns for her. 

Always. 

Through the open door of the kitchen, I can only see her legs, swinging off the island. The space is empty as we hired an outside catering company for today. I enter slowly, savoring the way her black dress accentuates the lines of her body as she leans back and rests a palm on the stainless steel surface. 

My eyes lock on a flash of red as I close the door. She’s holding a strawberry and takes a slow bite. A wicked smirk plays on her lips as her tongue flicks out to wipe the juices from them. Her gaze darkens and she holds out the other half to me. 

I cross the floor, undoing my belt as I walk. The sound of sliding leather against fabric is undeniably erotic. My chest hammers as I stop in front of Reggie and close my lips around the remaining berry. Finishing it off, I drag the back of my hand down her heated cheek. She sucks in a sharp inhale and her pupils widen. 

I lean forward until I can feel the soft flutter of her stilted breaths against my lips. She arches her back and tilts her head, trying to push for the kiss. My belt is still in my hands as I scoff darkly, “Desperate little thing, aren’t you?” 

She whines needily then widens her knees before snarking, “No more than you, mentiroso. So, what are you going to do about it?”

I scan the length of her body with a flaming gaze and catch her throat bobbing on a swallow. “I’m going to teach a brat a lesson.” 

My hand strikes out fast to fist the back of her head and I spin her around. I have her bent over the counter and pinned before she even has a chance to make some smartass reply. 

I kick her feet apart and keep the pressure on the back of her head as I wrench my pants down and let my throbbing cock out. She uses her arms at her side to hurriedly scrunch up her dress. 

“Fuck,” I breathe harshly as my cock slides between her thighs and glides over her pussy, slick and warm. “Do you think the priest would approve if he knew how wet you are right now, begging to be fucked with my entire family in the next room?” 

I tease my length through her folds with slow rocks of my hips before pulling a keening cry from her when I finally slam inside. She clamps her mouth closed almost immediately, teeth digging into her bottom lip as if she herself was surprised by her moan. I pump my cock in and out and her brows pinch together. “That’s a good girl, staying nice and quiet for me.” 

My hand tightens around my belt and I grab the other end. I don’t clasp the buckle but I wrap it around to the front of her neck and pull her back with the leather firm across her throat. I rasp in her ear as I deepen my thrusts, “Should I choke you with my belt? Right here, right now. Let you walk back out there with bruises, so everyone will know what a dirty little slut you are?”

She only answers in sharp pants as I fuck into her tight pussy. “No, don’t think that’s appropriate for a christening. But…” I muse out loud, letting go of one end and hiking the rest of her dress to her waist. A sharp smack crackles in the air as I bring the leather down swiftly against her bare cheek. “No one will see your ass.” 

She stifles another cry as I dole out another slap. And another and another. Her cunt squeezes my cock with each lash turning her skin a brilliant red. Her hand slips between her thighs and a soft moan escapes her lips as she begins to rub her clit. 

I get lost in all the sensations. Her trembling body matches the quaking inside my stomach, the snapping of the belt. 

“Oh god, Ro,” she whispers desperately as her pussy throbs around my swelling cock. 

 I can feel her orgasm crest and pulse through her. Pleasure rips from my groin and sparks along my skin. I grip her hips roughly and pull her back with each thrust, growling, “That’s it, little menace. Milk my fucking cock, baby.” 

My mind turns into a bright haze as my own release threatens to crash. “Goddamn, Reggie,” I sputter incoherently as I spill inside her, throwing my head back as I struggle to contain the groan of pleasure clawing up my throat. 

I collapse forward, catching myself before I flatten her, my heartbeat thrumming loudly in my ears. “Jesus fucking christ, you were made for me, baby.”

She chuckles in between soft pants, “Really, Roan, blasphemy at a christening?” 

The last Fox brother will officially be off the market after Dare Me, the fourth and final installment in the Fox Family Crime Syndicate Series. Order Dare Me here.