“Wham, bam, thank you, Libby Lamb,” he whispered, and the once infuriating words now brought a smile to her face. “I hear you’re about to become a posh brand name. What’s next for the soon-to-be Mrs. Cress?”
Her beefcake would get a kick out of her news.
She batted her eyelashes at the man. “About that wham, bam, Libby Lamb business…”
Epilogue
Erasmus
Libby arched her back, gripping fistfuls of the comforter. “That setting is really good, Raz! Just like that. Just. Like. That. Don’t stop!”
He drank in his fiancée, writhing on the bed. With her naked body spread before him, he was most definitely the luckiest bloke on the planet. His fiancée was the trifecta of female empowerment. An entrepreneur, a former nanny, turned soon-to-be stepmum, and the sexiest yoga instructor to execute a ball-busting donkey kick. Libby Lamb might be all about love and light, but don’t get on her bad side. She was killing it, metaphorically, of course, and the future couldn’t be brighter for him and his raven-haired beauty.
She was in talks with major fitness platforms to roll out Pun-chi yoga in gyms, community centers, and online. She’d extended offers to Shandra and Ida, collaborating with the women to modify the moves to allow older adults and people with disabilities and chronic health conditions to participate in the new fitness craze. And thanks to their connection with Gale Tech, a fitness app was in the works.
But that wasn’t all they’d been up to for the last two weeks.
They added a dimension to the Cress Family Foundation that centered on crafting a Pun-chi yoga curriculum in conjunction with academic tutoring to offer to schools across the state. They were doing this side project as a team, and they already had several school districts interested in the pilot program.
The Lion and the Lamb balanced each other, sustained each other, and loved each other.
And that wasn’t all.
He enjoyed another perk of being engaged to the new face of female sexual empowerment.
And what perk was that?
Lead vibrator tester.
Yep, it was a tough job, but someone had to do it.
If he’d heard about this occupation when he was fourteen, he might never have started boxing. In fact, just imagining the work would have kept him locked in his bedroom back in East London, tearing through boxes of tissue, draining tubes of lotion at Mach speed, and freaking the hell out of his granny.
Lucky for bloody everyone, he’d only recently learned about the job, but he’d taken to it with the attention and vigor it deserved as only the reigning Boxing Heavyweight Champion of the World could.
Of course, he beat Silas Scott.
With Libby’s love, he’d gone into the ring focused, fresh, and on fire—not because he chose to fight out of guilt, doubt, or a misguided notion.
He was there because he finally understood what he was fighting for.
And so did Libby.
Knowing that she believed in him and trusted that he’d come out of that ring the same steady man he went in had given him the edge. Flying on the high of Libby’s love, he could have beaten Superman in three rounds or less.
Yep, the Snake barely made it to the third bell.
After it was over, he’d shaken the man’s hand. He’d looked the bloke square in the eyes and wished him well.
That’s the thing about love—real love.
Once you let it in, it annihilates the bullshit. There’s no need to put on a facade. There’s no need to pretend.
Nothing is impossible when you believe in love.
Corny?
Maybe.
But it was the truth.
And here’s another truth.
That fight was his last.
And he had zero regrets about it.
Boxing had been good to him. It had given him purpose and made him a bloody fortune. It was how he met Mere, and it’s what led him to Libby. But there was a wide world out there, and he happily traded his career in professional boxing to be a devoted father, loving partner, and community volunteer, coaching kids at the Helping Hands community center’s boxing gym.
The next phase of his life started now.
And that phase included getting down to business—the deliciously dirty kind—with the woman who held his heart in her hands.
“We should be taking notes…about this setting,” Libby got out, gasping for breath as he worked the prototype of the revolutionary hand-held massager, aka, the Wham, Bam, Thank You, Libby Lamb deluxe vibrator—soon to be available in an array of empowering colors.
They were partial to the indigo-colored device.
Not a shocker.
The blooming thing even came with a lovely little waterproof bag.
Talk about convenience.
Actually, he’d take a hard pass on talking about convenience. He had something hard of his own to take care of.
“We can skip the notes on this testing session, plum,” he said, giving his cock several hard pumps as he expertly drove her wild with the vibrator.
His fiancée whimpered. “Wham, bam, so many women are about to be thanking Libby Lamb when these come out.”
“Now, who’s the cocky beefcake?” he purred, desire flooding his system.
“Do you have a problem with cocky beefcakes?” she teased, then bit her bottom lip as she pushed up onto her elbows.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
She raised a hand and beckoned him with her index finger. “Get up here and finish the job like the beefcake you are.”
Challenge accepted.
And this may be a good time to note. It didn’t get any better than banging a yoga instructor. He lifted one of her legs, resting it over his shoulder, then turned his attention to the other. He gripped her inner thigh and pressed it into the bed, opening her like she was the sexiest clam ever to emerge from the ocean. With her long, flexible legs, the woman was a celebration of sensual angles. He lined up his cock at her entrance and slid in slowly as Libby concentrated on his thick shaft.
There was nothing hotter than watching her watch him as he filled her to the hilt.
He adjusted her leg on his shoulder, pressing a kiss to her knee, and rocked his hips. He penetrated her sweet center in long, steady strokes, pleasure building. Her lusty sighs fed a hunger deep within him, and he inhaled a tight breath. He had to hold back. This wasn’t an easy thing to do, balls deep inside a woman with an iron core. She tightened around his hard length, moving with him, but he controlled the pace.
He still maintained a pinch of cocky and a dash of alpha arrogance.
He was London’s Lion, even if he had been tamed by a lamb.
Libby met his gaze, and pure carnal need flashed in her amber eyes.
It was about to get spicy.
She ran her hands up and down her torso, putting on quite a show as she skimmed her fingertips along her killer curves. Moving further north, she cupped her cleavage, then pinched her pink, pearled nipples. The beast inside him growled as her full breasts bounced from the force of his thrusts.
“You are bloody perfect, plum,” he bit out, beads of perspiration trailing down his rock-hard torso. “How do you want it?”
“Just like that,” she answered before sliding two fingers into her mouth and giving them a good, hard suck. She trailed her wet fingertips between her breasts, past her navel, to her most sensitive place. She rubbed her sweet bud, watching him pump and grind, their pace growing more frenzied, more heated, and more frantic by the second.