Page 75 of Toy

Epilogue

Mason

One year later

“Refill, Mr. Ashwood?”

I stirred from my nap and lowered my sunglasses at the sound of the purring feminine voice. Jolie was standing over my deck chair with a jug in one hand and a playful gleam in her eyes. A black and white swimsuit clung to the curves of her body.

A voice in my head shouted for me to tear the suit off, throw it in the ocean and bury myself between her legs. Every inch of her body was pure perfection, even the thin white scars criss-crossing the tanned parts of her skin. Instead of blemishing her beauty, they added to it. They were marks of strength. Proof of all the things she’d survived.

“Sure, I’ll take another drink ,” I said, sitting up and watching as she bent over and filled my glass with another serving of the potent rum cocktail I mixed up earlier this morning. “You know, if I squint hard enough I can pretend that swimsuit is a French maid outfit.”

Jolie arched a teasing brow as she set the cocktail jug down on a nearby table. “That’s the point of it.” She dipped a knee in a curtsy. “I’m at your service.”

“Get over here,” I growled, pulling her down to my lounger. She giggled as my hands roamed her soft body, kneading and groping all my favorite parts. The top of her swimsuit was a halter-neck, and I deftly untied the string and let it fall, exposing her breasts to the sun.

“You can’t treat the resort staff like this,” she murmured breathily in my ear as I squeezed her tits in my hands. “I’ll have to file a complaint.”

“I don’t think so. You said you were at my service,” I said with a smirk, bringing one hand down on her ass in a hard slap.

She squealed and giggled again. I moved my hands to her waist and pulled her in for a dirty, messy, rum-scented kiss. It would soon turn into hot, sweaty beach sex, and we both knew it. That was exactly what honeymoons were for.

After a year of planning, our wedding had gone off without a hitch. We flew everyone we knew and cared about to the Caribbean for the event, and we said ‘I do’ in front of a beautiful sunset on the beach last week.

My old friend Thad was my best man, and Martha was Jolie’s maid of honor. Beck got herself ordained online, and she officiated the ceremony for us. Seeing as Jolie didn’t have a father to walk her down the aisle, she asked her old neighbor Mr. Bennett to do it, seeing as they were friends now. The man’s face was usually arranged in a grouchy expression, but he didn’t stop smiling for the whole wedding.

The private island I’d booked for the honeymoon was as ridiculously beautiful as my new wife. The colors were nearly too bright and intense to be true. There was the stunning, glittering blue of the surrounding ocean, the pristine white sands of the beaches, the luxuriant green of the exotic trees and shrubs, and the dappled yellow, pink and orange of the shells we found washed up in a tiny cove we explored the day before.

The Italian-style beach house was just as wonderful. Sprawling rooms, floor to ceiling windows, handcrafted tiles, lengthy terraces with dazzling ocean views. Everything in marble.

The whole place was our very own personal paradise.

“I think all the ice melted,” Jolie gasped fifteen minutes later, dewy beads of perspiration dotting her forehead as she lay back on the lounger. Her skin had a pink freshly-fucked glow to it. It was my favorite look for her; one which I intended on keeping on her face every day for the rest of our lives.

I glanced over at the cocktail jug. She was right. All the ice was gone, and the jug was dripping with condensation, seeping down onto a puddle on the table. “Guess I got a little distracted by the sexy maid who brought the drink out,” I said with a grin. I picked up my glass and downed the drink she poured for me earlier. “Are you having any?” I asked, setting down the glass again.

She shook her head. “Too full to fit anything in right now,” she said, patting her stomach. “You can have it all.”

“If you say so, Mrs. Ashwood.”

She smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing my new name. Say it again.”

I leaned over and kissed her nose. “Mrs. Ashwood.”

Her smile grew wider. “Do you want to know something?” she asked a moment later, propping herself up on one elbow.

“Sure.”

She turned her head and gazed out at the shimmering water. “When you first arrived at New Eden nine years ago, I had a dream. I was on a beautiful tropical island with you. It looked a bit like this one. There were bright colors everywhere and birds singing in the air, and we were all alone. We could do anything we wanted.” She hesitated for a second, brows lifting slightly. “Back then, I never thought it could actually happen. Now I look at all this and I just can’t believe it did. I’m so happy.”

I stroked her hair. “I’m glad I could make it happen for you.”

“The only thing missing is chocolate cake. We were eating it in the dream,” she said. She covered a yawn and lay back down again.

I sat up. “The staff packed up some of our wedding cake and left it in the fridge here. I’ll go and grab some for you.”

“No, it’s fine. I think I’d probably throw up if I ate anything sugary at the moment.”

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