Page 50 of Holding Penalty

She sits up, noticing I’m here, propping her elbows back in a way that makes her full, perky tits press together. My stomach’s trying to jump into my throat. I imagine the sight of those tits spilling out of her top, and my teeth press together.

She waves, and I realize I’ve been sitting here staring at her for way too long. I get myself together as best I can and swing out of the truck.

As I walk toward the fence, I notice a small inflatable pool next to Piper. It’s filled with water, and Cheesecake is half submerged in it, pushing a floating frog toy around with her snout.

The sight of Piper and the animal who’s forced herself on me as my pseudo-pet relaxing in my front yard together on a nice, sunny day … it makes my stomach feel funny.

“Hey,” I say as I step through the fence door; but just at that moment Piper goes to stand up, and seeing the movement of her long, shapely legs makes the word come out of my mouth in an embarrassing squeak.

“Welcome home,” Piper says, smiling. Fuck me, hearing those words from Piper’s mouth really makes my stomach feel funny. “Congratulations on the win.”

Did she watch my game? Is that how she spent the first evening in my house, watching me play—watching me score?

Pressure swells behind my chest, a silly pride at the thought that maybe my wife even cheered when I scored our first goal of the season.

Keeping my gaze from dipping and scanning her un-fucking-real body while she’s standing right in front of me takes superhuman effort. But somehow I manage.

I nod to the pool. “Hanging out with Cheesecake, huh?”

“She’s very good company. Isn’t that right, Cheesy?” she calls to the capybara.

Cheesecake points her head in our direction, blankly considers us with her eyes for a moment, before pulling all her attention back to her little frog pool toy.

Piper laughs. “I got to know some of the staff who work at the petting zoo. I asked them if they had anything for her to wade in since she likes to hang out around the house, and they gave me this pool.”

Piper hops over to pet Cheesecake. She bends over to do it, her ass facing me in that sinful fucking bikini bottom, and I could pass out on the spot. My cock’s about two seconds away from being stiff enough in my jeans to hang a hat on, so I blurt out an excuse to go inside.

I make my way to the bathroom for some privacy. I wrench the sink faucet to its coldest setting and splash some frigid water on my face and neck, trying to cool down the flames licking through my bloodstream.

I might have seriously underestimated the effect that living with my wife would have on me.

When she asked if she could move in, I immediately agreed. After all she’s been through, I don’t want anything to stand in her way of getting her inheritance and being able to buy the bakery on her own terms.

Plus, the thought of living with Piper, talking to her every day, being there when she comes home from her work at the bakery, her being home when I come back from a game … something about it touched something inside me that’s sat dormant for a long, long time.

I didn’t think about any of the complications.

I didn’t think about how I might be slowly—or quickly—driven insane trying to control my attraction when we’re in this snug rancher together.

I didn’t think about where she’s going to sleep.

Shit. I guess what I mean is, I didn’t think about where I’m going to sleep. I’ll let her have my bed, obviously.

I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.

After I feel sufficiently cooled down, I grab a towel to dry my face. Once I feel put-together, I step outside.

And immediately feel like I’m falling to pieces again. Because now Piper is in my kitchen, leaning the curve of her hip against the counter, looking my direction with her arms folded over her chest and her tits pressed up.

I’m a fucking goner.

“I was petting Cheesecake when she randomly jumped out of the pool and walked away,” Piper says.

Even though I’m knotted up from head to toe—especially in my groin—that gets a laugh out of me. “Yeah, she’ll do that. She’ll stroll over, demand all of your attention, then up and leave the second she gets bored of you. She’s fickle.”

“I’ll win her over before the month is out,” Piper says.

“Doubt it.”