“Fuck,” he mutters, teasing my seam and finding me just as wet as I promised I would be. I see the heat flare in his eyes as he thrusts his fingers inside me, and when I reach for his dick, he’s already thick, hard, and ready for me.
I jack his cock a few times before lining it up so he can enter me. And,hol-y fuckballs. In one smooth, mind-altering motion, Mickey glides into me. The connection is just as electric as it was before. Maybe it’s even better now because I’m letting myself embrace it openly.
Sure, we’re in a confined space, and there’s the danger of possibly getting caught, but we’re finally together again and it feels incredible. Mickey licks his thumb and sucks it into hismouth before pressing it against my clit and rubbing it in tight little circles. He knows just what I like—just what I need— and he always gives it to me.
“Are you gonna give it up for me, Viv? You gonna soak my cock? Because I’m on the fucking edge here,” he says, his lips melting into mine.
He swallows every gasp and whimper that comes out of my mouth. I tilt my hips up just enough to—oh, fuck, yes. My orgasm hits with such force that it has me biting down on his shoulder just to keep from crying out. My body is riding each wave and clenching around his cock as the release tears through me.
And that triggers his.
Mickey’s always beautiful, but when he comes apart, he steals my breath away, and this time is no exception. “I love you,” I say, because I just can’t keep those three little words from tumbling out. It’s like once I said them a few hours ago, the floodgates opened. We kiss, our mouths hungry and desperate. I’m coming down from the high of my orgasm, and he is, too, but he’s still rock hard inside me.
I’m beginning to think that we could just stay in here and fuck the day away, when there’s a knock at the door.
Holy fuckballs.
“Just a sec,” Mickey calls in a totally normal voice before turning his attention back to me, lifting me off his dick, and cleaning us up in record time. He kisses me as we pull ourselves together and prepare to duck out of here without alerting anyone to the shenanigans that just occurred here. It’s a tall order, but we can pull it off.
After all, Mickey and I are shenanigan experts. Masters of mischief. Partners in crime.
Yeah, partners. I like that one best.
The End.
But, wait! The rest of the crew would never forgive me if they didn’t get one last chance to hang out together on the page. So here’s the epilogue…
Epilogue
TWO YEARS LATER…
“Nah, man, I’m telling you, they gotta be bigger. It’s a fucking balloon arch. If the balloons are all teeny tiny, they’re not gonna arch, they’re just gonna bend.” Ollie’s dispensing party decoration advice like he’s a pro. Dime and Flo flip him off, but I notice they start making their balloons bigger.
I could get up and help, but those guys seem like they have it all under control, so I lean back in my chair and tilt my face up to the sun. Besides, if I lend a hand, that balloon arch is liable to pop and sound like a hundred cannons all going off at once.
Calla, the three-year-old birthday princess, would not be pleased about that, and as her favorite uncle, I’m not here to mess shit up, even if that might be a specialty of mine. Hell, no. I’m here to make sure Calla has the best birthday party ever.
Well, I might have a few other plans for this weekend, too.
A lot of them involve catching up with my old teammates. Living in Poland means Viv and I don’t get to hang with our old crew too often, so we’re going to soak this time with our friends while we can.
It’s wild as shit that we’re all chilling in Coach Baylor’s backyard like nothing has changed.
In a lot of ways, it hasn’t. Ollie is still in charge of all the festivities, and his wife, Fallon, is still rolling her eyes at his antics.
Pete Santos is wielding a spatula and manning the grill like he’s auditioning for a cooking show. Coach Van is sprawled out on a nearby lounger, cracking jokes with his best bud while his son sleeps peacefully on his chest.
So, yeah, I guess some things have changed. For one, we’re in the middle of a baby boom. It’s crazy in the best way. Like I said, Van and Josie have a little boy, Felix, to add to their brood. Coach Baylor and his wife Jules have a son named Isaac, and Coach Anderson and his wife are expecting twins any day now.
Maggie and JT will have another baby by Christmastime, and my sister is due on Thanksgiving.
I swear, there’s gotta be something in the water around here. Yeah, a lot of us live hundreds—or thousands—of miles away now, but still. I’m not taking any chances.
Don’t get me wrong. Viv and I will be thrilled to welcome our own hellions into the world someday, but I’ve got some plans to put into place before then.
“Incoming!” I look up, ready to be ambushed by water balloons or a cooler full of ice, but it’s just Blue. He’s got Calla up on his shoulders and he’s tearing through the backyard like his ass is on fire.
“I love that he’s getting her all wound up when the party has barely even started,” JT grumbles from his seat next to me. “She’s gonna be a joy to put to be tonight.’
