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Oh…forfuckssake…
This is love, isn’t it?
All of sudden, his leg gently nudges mine to summon my stare back to his and away from the thought space I had slipped into. “Just realized you love me too, huh?”
There’s no stopping my entire body from leaning dramatically forward. “Yeah, when the fuck did that happen!? And why didn’t you tell me?! Why are you being a bad teammate?!”
“I thought you knew!”
“You just thought I knew I was in love with you?!
He fails to swallow all of his chuckles. “Yeah, baby. I figured you knew that. Fuck, I figured you’d be the first to know that shit.”
“Then do you really know me at all?!”
My idiot retort gets us both snickering.
Then laughing.
Then laughing so hard tears congregate in the rims of my eyes.
Ugh.
I’m a fucking mess.
And my life constantly keeps turning into an 80s Red Wings brawl I can hardly fathom making it out of alive.
Yet some way, somehow, not only did I manage to fall in love, someone managed to fall in love with me.
The real me.
The snoring, alphabet belching, will never be as dolled up as the puck bunnies I’m often picked over for version.
The one that just hopes to—at some point in her existence—make her father proud.
Brendan lovingly reaches out for my hips and tugs me forward until I’m straddling him, arms intertwined adoringly around his neck. “Regardless of a job, paperwork, bad press, or being banished back to the guesthouse again for tricking you into thinking zucchini bread was banana nut bread-”
“A divorceable offense.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Harlow.” He sweetly pinches my chin to keep our stares locked together. “You’re it for me. And I already put a fucking ring on it.”
Girlish giggles I’m embarrassed to make are quickly followed by my mouth pouncing his. Like usual, there’s no reluctance for him to part his lips to grant my tongue access inside as much as unleash his to feverishly tangle with mine.
They’ve barely touched twice when Margot aggressively knocks at the door. “Time’s up!”
Brendan ends the moment on a disgruntled groan.
“Everything good, Hennington?”
“Hundy P.”
My answer manages to spark a light in his gaze I can’t get enough of.
“Do me a solid, Margot, and go check on the boys?” Running my hands down the front of my husband’s sculpted, bare chest receives a low, hungry, grumble. “We’ll be back down in a period or so.”
Her irritation with the hockey time reference is announced on a loud gag. “Fine.”
The salaciousness of my smirk deepens during my fingers continued descent.
“I’ll also check in with Alice in PR. See where we are on containment strategies of this situation.”
Sounds of Margot stomping away prompt Brendan to cup my ass on a playful grin. “A full twenty minutes of game play with no whistle blows?” He grips my cheeks a bit rougher. “Wonder what we could do with that shit…”
“Each other.”
His light laugh is cut off by me resuming our kiss.
A kiss that is repeatedly broken and busted and fractured due to the frenzied nature of getting his dick out of his swim trunks and rammed deep inside of me where it belongs.
The first heave is hard.
And brutal.
And proof that he respects the limited time frame he’s been presented with.
Throwing my chest against his in ecstasy is unfortunately interrupted by Brendan yanking at the coverup in his way. “Take this fucking shit off, Harlow. Stop fucking hiding your body. Let me see that shit.”
Much like it only took a single pull at my string bikini bottom to give him the space he needed to slip inside, it only takes one swift action to free my increasingly shapely figure from the paper bag I’ve spent all afternoon hiding it under.
I was trying to avoid telling the team what was up in this regard, but that puck has now been iced.
Perhaps I should just lean into the shit?
Resume showing off my form.
Prove that just because I’m pregnant doesn’t mean I have to be less confident in the clothes I wear?
Brendan’s fingers savagely scrape against my chest during his unrestrained pursuit in having my nipple peak just around the thin fabric shielding them. Barbaric groans of approval precede a sharp slap to the ass. “Be a good little slut for me. Make them titties bounce.”
I sink my nails into the tops of his shoulders, sadistically cutting into the skin, and begin to recklessly execute the command. Furiously rising to the tip of his cock only to just as quickly fall to the base effortlessly builds a heavenly burning that has my toes curling against the cold bathroom floor. Wetness persistently whirls around his shaft on every pump, coating and covering and caressing each inch it comes in contact with, needing it soaked. Begging it to return the favor by painting my pussy white.
Remorselessly, Brendan grabs a hold of the string in the middle of my top, and yanks down on a growled demand, “Fucking take that dick, baby.”
