“Oh fuck, that feels good. Your pretty cunt is squeezing me so tight.” Sweat beads up on my forehead from the restraint I’m using to stop from plunging into her in hard, quick thrusts. This thing would be over too quick.
“Look at us,” I say to our reflection in the mirror. Her lips are puffy, cheeks flushed. Her sweater’s fallen off one shoulder and the swell of her breast peeks out. “I was made for you.”
“Unbelievable,” she mutters, the word almost too quiet to hear, as I bury myself in her. I pull out and do it again and again, each time at that slow, torturous pace that has her unable to speak.
“Tell me you’re mine again,” I say when she’s taking all of me. I drop my mouth to her neck and lick the line of her collarbone. “Say you’ll be mine forever.”
She meets my stare in the mirror. My heart hammers in the seconds it takes her to reply.
“I’m yours.” Her words are barely a whisper. She doesn’t add the forever part, but I hope she feels it. Because there’s no way I can let her go now.
30
HANNAH
Me
Where are you?
Travis
Lifting weights with Galaxy. You’re home already? I thought you were going to a yoga class.
Me
Changed my mind.
I can see the three dots, indicating he’s typing a response, but before it comes through, I send him a photo of me in his jersey. Only his jersey.
It’s probably hard to know that’s all I’m wearing, considering how big it is on me, but hopefully he’ll get the memo. The memo being I’d like to have sex with my husband immediately.
Travis
I’ll be there in eleven minutes.
I fight a grin and set my phone on my dresser, then move over to the mirror to look at myself. His white and purple jersey comes down nearly to my knees and the sleeves fall past my hands. Still, it’s not a bad costume.
I’m dressed as Travis Bennett’s hot, sexy wife who’s been turned on all day, every day, for weeks now. Except it’s really more me intentionally trying to look the way I feel.
I’m in love with him. I probably have been for longer than I’d like to admit. But the thought terrifies me. I’m not even sure why it’s so scary. I trust him. He’s amazing. He continually tells me and shows me how he feels. And Wren too. They text daily now about podcasts andTwilight(they’re reading the books together). This gorgeous, sweet man has shown up for me in such big ways. He’s always taking care of me, and now I want to flip the tables.
I walk downstairs and check on dinner. I didn’t have time to make a whole meal, so I picked up food on my way home instead. All his favorites. Huckleberry muffins, barbecue ribs, and the macaroni and cheese from a deli nearby that he eats at least once a week.
I know that one meal and a sexy fantasy isn’t going to even the scales, but it’s a start.
Nine minutes have passed when the front door opens and Travis walks through, looking wide-eyed and frantic. He slams the door behind him and then freezes just inside the doorway when he spots me in the kitchen.
“Welcome home, honey,” I say in my sweetest voice.
His stare stays locked on me as I step away from the counter into the space between the kitchen and living room, giving him an unobstructed view of my outfit in the process. His gaze moves slowly down to my legs and then back up. The heat in his eyes makes my skin prick with awareness and my pussy clench.
He walks slowly, never taking his eyes off me, erasing the distance between us. My heart is racing in my chest. The way he looks at me is transformative. Like he’s the lucky one instead of the other way around.
“Holy shit.” He drops to his knees in front of me. His hands go to my calves and then drag up to my thighs, only stopping when he reaches the apex of my thighs. He groans and then pushes the jersey up like he needs to double-check I’m really not wearing panties.
Only then does he bring his stare up to my face. “How are you real?”
Smiling, I run my fingers through his thick, dark hair. It’s messy from a day of practice and working out. I like him this way, caught off guard and not trying to be everything I want or need. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the effort, but I like him for him.
