This time she leaves my ankles untethered.
Standing beside the bed she slowly begins to undress herself. Something stops her in her tracks and she quickly turns away and busies herself on the other side of the room.
Music begins to play. I recognize the song as Dangerous woman by Ariana Grande. Once again, she’s setting the mood perfectly.
Returning to her previous position Sianna turns and bends over in an effort to remove her jeans and make me come at the sight of her ass I’m sure of it.
A black G-string occupies the line between her fine as hell cheeks that I hope my tongue will one day get to trace along.
With her jeans now out of the picture, Sianna removes her bra and skimpy G-string. Naked and beautiful she expertly covers my cock with a condom and straddles my waist.
“Now I’m going to place your dick inside me, but you Mr. Heat are going to do all of the work.”
Fuck yeah. I like where this is heading.
Sianna does exactly as she said she would. The heat radiating from her slick pussy almost burns my sensitive dick, but it’s a pain worth enduring.
Resting her hands beside my head I asks her “Are you ready for this?”
To which she responds, “Baby, I was born ready.”
I spend the next ten minutes or so fucking the shit out of her luscious pussy while her tits dance around in my face. We come together and are left breathless, but utterly satisfied to say the least.
Resting her head on my chest, her honey blonde hair tickling my face she says something that sends me into an absolute panic.
“Well that sure was a nice way to start a lazy Sunday morning.”
“SUNDAY! FUCK ME TODAY IS SUNDAY”
“Yep all day,” she says as she sits on the edge of her bed.
“Sianna you have to untie me. Today is Super Bowl Sunday. I have to go.”
“Oh fuck.” She says as she laughs at my predicament.
But this is no laughing matter. I should be with my team getting psyched for the game not riding Sianna’s perfect pussy. Although, at least it has put me in a good frame of mind for the big day ahead.
***
Sianna throws my clothes at me and I put them on as quickly as I took them off. We race out the door hand in hand and jump into my waiting car downstairs. Checking my phone, I have several missed calls from Ricky and Coach. Fuck, I’m dead meat.
We get to the MetLife stadium with only an hour to spare before kick off. Joe, my coach, is waiting for me in the parking lot. He glares at me and snarls “She better have been worth it,” as I lead Sianna past him.
“You have no idea coach. You have no idea.”
We laugh as we run past him. I’m sure this is not the last I’ll hear of my antics, but right now I have a job to do. I guide Sianna toward one of the box seats before making my way down to my team.
***
I’m suited up and ready to go. The team has been prepped on our last-minute change in play, which may win us or lose us the game. I just hope that Gabe Ryder is as predictable as we think he is.
Running out onto that field, hearing the crowd roar, sends chills down my spine each and every time. Even as an elite athlete you never tire of hearing that roar. Cameramen litter the sidelines as do our cheer squad. The big screen shows my stats and compares me with Gabe Ryder, the New York Giants quarterback. I can’t help but smile as I remember the cunning change in play we have in store for young Gabe. Now my face, in real time, fills the screen. The crowd roars even louder. Ricky runs past me and taps my head. He’s excited. All of the guys are pumped for this game.
Looking up into the stands it’s impossible to pick out Sianna but I know she’s up there watching my every move. I blow her a kiss sending the cameramen into a spin as they whip around and take focus on any and every beautiful girl in the crowd.
***
It’s half time and Giants lead by a measly two points. There’s nothing in this game, but a small lead in the Giants favor. If the final siren sounds now that’ll mean we’ve lost and I won’t have that.
While Rudimental and Ed Sheeran entertain the halftime crowd, I’m left to pump the team up and spur them on to victory.
“Guys we have one last shot at this. This half of the game is make or break time, you all know that, so let’s not fuck it up. We all know the play, we all know the job we have to do and we’re all pretty god damn good at it, SO LET’S GO OUT THERE AND KICK SOME GIANT ASS!”
The roar in the changing room is louder than that outside. We chant and hit each other's helmets then lean our hands in. Connected as one we pump our hands three times before breaking. God, I love the thrill this game gives me and it’s not only because we’re finalists in the Super Bowl, it’s because of the camaraderie this environment demands of you. This feeling of pride can’t be replaced. It’s almost enough to make me cry, but not yet. First, we have to win this game then I’m sure we’ll all cry and celebrate our victory.
“Well Richard it all comes down to this last play of the day. There are only mere seconds left on the clock and the scores are tied. The entire weight of this game now rests on the shoulders of ‘Bringing the heat’ Mr. Preston Heat.”
“Not a truer word has ever been spoken Ken and I can’t tell you how excited I am. I’ve literally been sitting on the edge of my seat this entire last half of this game and now it all comes down to the absolute wire. Can Preston Heat pull off the impossible?”
“Well Richard, yes I think he can. We’ve all seen this team’s impressive play when the pressure is on. The Jet’s really do handle this kind of pressure better than any other team out there, but I must say Gabriel Ryder has played an impressive game today. He and his team could still steal this win from the Jets.”
“Yes, you’re right Ken, but I must agree with you I think the Jets, even though they have to pull off the impossible, I think they can win this. Listen to that crowd. They sure are on the Jet’s side, or should I say, Preston Heat’s side, as his team sets up the last play of the day.”
“Here we go. There’s the snap OH AND WHAT’S THIS RICHARD? PRESTON HEAT RUNS RIGHT, NOT PREDICTABLE LEFT. THE GIANTS DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO. THEY SCURRY BUT IT’S TOO LATE. TOUCH DOWN. THE JETS HAVE WON. THE JETS HAVE WON.”
“OH MY GOD KEN THE JETS HAVE JUST WON THE SUPER BOWL WITH ONLY SECONDS LEFT ON THE CLOCK AND A SURPRISE PLAY BY PRESTON HEAT. THE MAN IS AN ABSOLUTE CHAMPION AND NOW HE IS THE ENVY OF AN ENTIRE NATION. WHAT A PLAY. WHAT A HERO.”
“It doesn’t get any better than this Richard. Oh my goodness. Look at this. This is what it’s all about right here. The jets lift Preston Heat up on to their shoulders. Preston Heat you are a god of the football world, your teammates, every Jets fan here and around the world, and football fans in general, know it. Oh my goodness I can’t believe it. The Jets have just won the Super Bowl. Let’s go back to the replay now Richard and watch that change in play again.”
SIANNA
“Preston honey wake up, you’ll be late for school.”
“I don’t wanna go to school momma.”
“Oh, why not?”
“I wanna go and help dad train the team instead.”
Preston Junior has had the same undeniable obsession as his father with football since the day he was born. He’s seven now and even though the toughest decision he has to make each day is what toy he will play with today, his commitment to his dad’s team, the New York Jets, is actually quite sweet.
“I tell you what. Why don’t we make a deal? You go to school today and I’ll take you to help daddy a little later in the day.”
“Are you sure dad will need my help later in the day? What if he needs me now?”
“I will ring daddy and make sure he leaves all of the important coaching decisions until you’re with him later. Okay?”
He huffs the same way his father does and stares me dead in my eye. I don’t dare break contact with him if I’m to win this battle.
“Okay. It’s a deal.”
&
nbsp; “Good, now scoot young man. I have a job to get to too you know.”
Walking into McMillan McMillan I can’t help but notice a new face on the reception desk.
“Hi. I’m Sianna Heat, you are?” I ask as I extend my hand to greet our newest employee.
“Oh, nice to meet you Mrs. Heat. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Kelly. First day so please forgive me if I stuff anything up.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine Kelly. Nice to meet you. I hope you have a great first day.”
“I’m sure I will. Thank you, Mrs. Heat.”
I swear every time I enter this lift I’m reminded of the day I told Daniel to pretty much stick his job offer. After the Super Bowl he called me and assured me that his job offer and his opinion of me was based purely on my results and tenacity. He copped his fair share of my tenacity that day and he told me days later that he liked what he saw. The fact that I was considered an associate of Preston Heat’s at the time was a bonus for him as he’s a massive Jet’s fan, but it was definitely my winning personality and my stuff you attitude that won him over in the end.
The phone on my desk is ringing as I enter my office. I rush for it and manage to grab it just in time.
“Sianna Heat. How may I help you?”
“Lunch at 12. You in?”
“Hi Rhi! Yeah sounds great. Same spot. Yeah sounds good. See you then.”
Rhiannon and Ricky are doing well. They’re married now too and are expecting their first baby in July. Our second child, a girl, is due in June, so we’re both fat and hungry pregnant momma’s and I love it.
No sooner have I put the phone on the receiver than it rings again.
“Sianna Heat. How may I help you?”
“Well you can begin by coming home for lunch and tying me to our bed post then having your filthy way with me.”
“Mr. Heat. I couldn’t possibly do that. You know I’m not that kind of girl.”
The smile on my face actually hurts my cheeks.
“Oh no you don’t. I know you better than that Sianna and I love you for it. Promise me.”
“Unless you have a large pepperoni pizza ready and waiting for me then no I can’t promise you anything.”
“Consider it done.”
“Then consider me home for lunch.”
Damn now to break my lunch date with Rhi. She’s not going to be happy.
THE END.
Every single day I am grateful for having Ethan Rossi in my life.
Not only is he a hot blooded gorgeous Alpha male, but he makes me irrevocably happy.
The way he holds himself oozes confidence.
Ethan is assertive rather than aggressive and he protects me in a way I never thought possible.
He is a born leader, ambitious in his career and when he commands others they obey without hesitation.
I love his sensitive side, his curiosity to always learn more. He inspires me every day.
HE is the man I should have married.
However, life had other plans in store.
If only I’d met him first…
THE BEGINNING OF THE END
“Welcome home, husband,” I declare as any newlywed would when their significant other walks through the door. I lovingly kiss Mike as he embraces me in his arms.
“You will be impressed. I have roast beef and all your favorite vegetables in the oven. And of course, red wine chilling in the cooler,” I tell him, hoping to impress him with my devotion.
“This married business suits you, Mrs. Owens.”
“I could totally get used to this treatment,” he announces, swatting me playfully on the butt. I hope he realizes daily roasts aren’t in the cards.
I must admit, since our stunning wedding at the local chapel, life has been mostly wonderful.
I haven’t had many men in my thirty-one years because I’ve lived a sheltered life. I wanted something special and wasn’t ready to settle for the one-night stands, immature guys, or players. I’m a Taurus, and I’m pretty true to my personality traits. I’m reliable and practical, stable and considerate of others. Pretty damn boring.
Our wedding was an intimate ceremony with close family and friends. The reception was immaculate, and the table settings stunning with a silver and white color theme, gorgeous candles, and a candelabra that sparkled.
My dress was my third choice. The first was way too expensive, and I just knew Mike wouldn’t approve. But it was stunning with so many princess-cut diamonds—my dream dress.
Choice two was another fantastic design, more reserved, fewer diamonds with scalloped edging and lace bodice.
The dress I finally decided on was still stunning, don’t get me wrong.
I gazed in the mirror at the crisp white satin gown and smiled at the four larger diamantes along my low-cut bodice and straight skirt. The saleswoman helped me choose some pretty costume jewelry and white heels.
I felt like a princess, and I was marrying my Prince Charming.
Or so I thought…
Like I said, life has been incredible.
Before that ...
We had what I like to call hiccups, but in reality, they were significant issues.
Mike and I met through mutual friends.
Italian with short dark hair, olive skin, and jade green eyes, he caught my eye right away and then charmed my socks off with compliments and a few one-liners. As I think back now, they were quite cheesy. But like I said, I don’t have much experience with men.
Mike is a very successful sales manager for a large city firm. We didn’t waste any time getting serious, and after a few fantastic dinners dates at some amazing restaurants, he asked me to move in with him. I was over the moon and so in love that I didn’t hesitate and moved from my tiny little apartment into his larger, modern condo. He likes the interior clean and fresh,, so it hasn’t changed much. Personally, I really need more color. It’s a little dull and lifeless for me, and my personality is a little vibrant at times.
I’m hoping he warms to my feminine touches, but so far, he’s hidden everything I’ve bought in the cupboards. I’m just talking about a few fake succulents, a turquoise table runner, and a stunning silver vase. He instantly dismissed my suggestion for a colored feature wall.
“White is a little boring, Mike, especially when it’s everywhere. Can we just paint one wall?” I ask him sweetly, almost pleading for a little say in my new home. “Nothing drastic. How about like a shade of chocolate, mocha, or a light brown, babe?” I add, trying to sway him yet keep it simple.
“God, Sienna, how many times do I have to say no? White is fresh. I’ve lived here for two years, and I like it the way it is,” he states in a firm tone. I let out a deep breath in frustration, and I am reminded of living at home as a child. I should just leave it, but silly me doesn’t.
“Wouldn’t it be fair to make decisions as a married couple sometimes? Can I have some input?” I declare, feeling a little low and unworthy.
“Don’t you dare argue back. You are rude and selfish, and I’m not discussing this any further,” he screams, then he catches me completely by surprise when he slaps me firmly across my right cheek.
He storms off and slams his office door, leaving me holding my cheek as a single tear streams down my face and feeling a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. How the hell do men know how to strike a woman so hard? I take a deep breath, my body still shaking, but I pick myself up and head to the kitchen to grab an ice pack before I have a bruise to match the excruciating pain.
That was the first time Mike hit me, and from his sincere apology, I thought it would be the last.
“Oh Sienna, god, I’m so sorry, baby. I should never have done that. I snapped, and it will never, ever happen again. I swear on my life,” he declares and pulls me into his warm arms. His arms make me feel safe. The vows from our wedding day are fresh in my mind. He loves me, and it will never happen again.
“Can you forgive me, Sienna?” he questions, holding my chin and looking into
my eyes.
“Yes, of course, you are my husband,” I tell him, really meaning it.
Over the next two weeks, we are busy with dinners and a work function for Mike—nothing out of the ordinary. He is nice and calm with a smile on his face.
I remember the Friday he came home late from work, smelling like alcohol.
“I hope you didn’t drive home over the limit. I could have picked you up,” I announce as I dish out his dinner after heating it up.
“I’m not a child, Sienna. I am capable of driving,” he shouts as he comes out of his office, looking angry.
I have a glass of red wine in my hand because I enjoy a drink on the weekend.
It’s a nice shiraz and tastes terrific.
Veraciously, he slaps the glass from my hand. It goes flying—thank god, it doesn’t break—but it lands on his fancy cream-colored plush carpet. It instantly soaks in, and I can see the stain spreading farther, causing me to cringe.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sienna, look what you did. Get down on your hands and knees and scrub that carpet. What kind of a whore drinks red wine? You are not elegant. How am I married to such a clumsy bitch?” he screams, pushing me to the carpet. I remember stumbling, feeling shocked and horrified that my so-called Prince Charming could treat me so callously.
Mike storms off to the kitchen, bringing back a cloth and throwing it at me.
“Scrub it,” he screams, and I stumble to grab the wet cloth and start frantically scrubbing. My uncontrollable shaking causes it to spread the red farther along the cream carpet.
“You silly slut, you are making it worse,” he shrieks and grabs me by my hair and pushes my face against the floor until my cheek is flush against the carpet and the smeared wine stain.
“You are hurting me, Mike,” I shout out as the pain becomes extreme in my cheekbone.
“Shut up, Sienna. You deserve it as punishment for your recklessness. You make me sick. You are weak. I’ve wanted to tell you since I met you,” Mike bellows.
I swear my life flashes before my eyes.
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