The Final Quarter

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The Final Quarter Page 9

by Anne Lange


  “I get that. And, clearly, you won.” Given the state of his arousal, his cock would probably wear a mark of the indentation from his zipper for a few hours.

  Mitch inched closer to her. “Now, lie down and give me your hands.”

  He wrapped the silk tie around her wrists then stretched them out over her head. It wasn’t tight by any stretch, but it was the symbolism. Besides, he liked the way the position pushed her breasts up.

  He glanced at her face to gage her reaction. Her eyes glittered and she licked her lips. He dipped down for a heated kiss. Then he pulled himself away from her mouth, sat up and ran his hand down her silky smooth right leg until he encountered the strap of her shoe.

  “Although I love your sexy-as-hell footwear, I’m going to take them off. Don’t want to risk getting stabbed in the back.” He chuckled at her affronted gasp as he unbuckled the shoe and slipped it off her foot. She had such tiny feet. He loved her feet—not that he had a fetish or anything, but many people had ugly feet, him included. But Serena’s were delicate. The skin smooth and unblemished. Slender toes, her nails painted a deep red tonight.

  After he’d removed her shoes, he knelt between her legs, grasped one foot in each hand and lifted, hooking them over his shoulders. Sliding them along until the backs of her knees settled in place. He slipped a hand under each ass cheek and shifted her toward him, bringing her nice and close to his mouth. Just where he wanted her.

  Her aroma drifted up to him. He closed his eyes and inhaled the spicy scent of his wife. His mouth watered heavily. What he would have given right now to have had a can of whipped cream. He’d have loved watching the cold substance melt against her hot pussy. The sweetness he’d lap up mingled with her natural juices. God, they hadn’t had that kind of fun in years. When did we stop having fun sex?

  “You going to look at me like that all night?” His wife’s husky words rippled through him.

  “Just contemplating where to start.”

  “I’m sure anywhere you decide will work for me.”

  “Hmm. You might be right.” Mitch leaned back on his heels, letting her legs settle along the tops of his shoulders until he could grab her right foot. He gripped it and ran his tongue along the inside of her arch. She jumped and tried to jerk her ticklish appendage away, but he held firm, licking her again. He traced along the bottom edge of her toes where they met the rest of her foot. Then he nipped the top of each toe, starting at the baby one, working his way across until he enclosed her big toe between his lips, then he twirled his tongue around it, sucking it into his mouth until she squirmed, tugging, trying to dislodge him. But he wasn’t going anywhere.

  Mitch laved each one. Circled them, sucked on them, tickled the very tips until his wife moaned and thrashed on the bed. He did the same to her other foot. Spending so much time lavishing attention on each digit that he felt like he’d had a feast. The salty goodness of her skin, mixed with the heady fragrance of her arousal, engulfed him.

  Now he was ready for dessert. And oh, man, could he smell his treat.

  Serena was so fucking horny right now, her pussy glistened with an abundance of moisture. Her juices dripped down her slit to coat her ass. It drove him wild thinking how hot she was for him. If only he could spend more time with this woman. Spend night after night in their bed, touching, tasting and breathing her in.

  If his career was over, he’d have that time.

  Mitch leaned in and followed the trail with his mouth, lapping up the excess, waiting for more. She spilled plenty and he hadn’t even tasted her fully yet. Her perfume filled the air, taking his breath away. When he glanced down to the bed, a small wet spot had formed just beneath her bottom.

  Mitch licked up her slit, savoring her taste. He wiggled his tongue over her clit. She gasped, so he repeated the action—multiple times. He dipped into her pussy, scooped out some tasty cream, swallowed it down and went back for more. He used his tongue like his cock, fucking her with firm strokes. God, she tasted divine.

  Holding her tight in his grip, he went to town, sucking, nibbling and licking, even biting, though gently. He plunged one finger into her hole. Added another. He pumped them in and out, stroking her inner walls, pressing against that special place. Then he slanted his mouth over her clit and sucked hard. Her back bowed as she became completely unglued.

  Mitch swallowed every ounce she gave him until she lay replete on the bed. He chuckled. “Feel good?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Her eyes drifted closed. Her chest rose and fell with each harsh intake of breath. “You’re going to have to give me just a second.”

  “No worries. I have plenty to keep me busy until you’re ready.” He pushed her thighs to her chest, exposed her fully, including that pretty little puckered rosette. Inserting a finger inside her, he shivered as her pussy clutched at him. He withdrew and rubbed his finger over her ass. Serena jumped under his touch. She trembled.

  “Cold?”

  “No.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve touched you here.”

  “Uh-huh.” She gulped.

  Mitch stole more juice and caressed the sensitive area, this time adding just enough pressure to make her gasp. When his finger popped through the opening, he paused as she sucked in a hissing breath. Then he pushed in slow and deep. She groaned. He withdrew and plunged back in again. Not hard, but firm. Just fast enough that she jerked and shuddered beneath him, her breathing hard. She’d always loved anal play. Another thing I’ve deprived her of.

  “Feel good?”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Want me to go faster?”

  She nodded, unable to speak because she was biting her bottom lip.

  Mitch leaned in and licked up her labia as he speared his finger into her ass. Over and over again, picking up speed while he tongued her hole then sucked on her clit again. Not hard, knowing she’d be sensitive. But she bucked. After the first orgasm, she was touchy. But he also knew she loved to have her ass finger-fucked. He could sometimes make his wife squirt like this, and he hadn’t experienced that special treat in a long, long time. She was shy about it, embarrassed even, but he fucking loved it.

  Mitch increased the tempo in her rear while he flicked the swollen bundle of nerves at the top of her pussy. She was lifting her hips to meet each thrust. She clenched her fingers tight together and rolled her head back and forth.

  Liquid started to flow from her. Serena shook with the force of the climax he sensed was bearing down on her. Rising from his knees then crawling on the bed, he rammed his finger into her ass, nothing hindering him now. She moaned and begged for him to go faster. Harder. He flicked his tongue over her clit in rapid strokes. She moved with him, eager for every tap to the nerves around her opening that primed her for the explosion.

  Serena grunted, stiffening as fluid gushed from between her legs, spraying him on the chest and soaking the linen beneath her.

  Shit. We’ll have to apologize to the staff before we leave.

  Mitch pulled free of her body and held his wife as she quaked in the aftermath. She didn’t have such intense orgasms often, but when she did, it took a few moments for her to recover. He cuddled her close until she relaxed enough for him to go grab a washcloth from the washroom. Then he cleaned her up while she sucked in huge gulps of air.

  “Scoot up farther on the bed, hon.”

  She managed to make it happen, but it wasn’t graceful. He smiled.

  Mitch unclasped the buckle on his pants, lowered the zipper then pushed his pants and briefs down his legs. He kicked them out of the way, then he turned back to his sexy, naked, totally boneless wife

  When he reached the bed, he placed his hands on either side of her, leaned down and trailed kisses up her tummy, around her navel, stopping for a moment to dip his tongue in deep. Then he continued up to the bottom swell of her breasts. He licked underneath. Sweat from her earlier dance and her orgasms gathered there—the salty moisture tasty, turning him on even more.

  He dragged the
flat of his tongue up over the swell to her nipple. He circled the tip with his tongue until all the little bumps rose and the nub pebbled into a rigid point. She moaned and rocked her head from side to side. Mitch covered her nipple, pulling it into his mouth allowing it to stroke the roof of his mouth while he sucked. He released it, nibbled on it gently, then he bit down just hard enough that she gasped. He blew on it, licked over it then kissed it.

  By the time he’d given adequate attention to both, Serena was lifting her hips, thrusting up to meet his. He slid down her body, so his cock could find its home between her thighs. He rubbed it against her moist center, coated it in her juices. She’d pulled her plump bottom lip between her teeth. With each sweep of his dick over her clit, she hissed, whimpered and rocked against him some more.

  “I want you inside me, Mitch. Please.”

  “Are you sure you’re ready?”

  “God, yes.” She slid her hands down his back and latched on to his ass.

  Mitch positioned himself at her entrance.

  Serena shifted, raising her knees, placing her feet flat on the bed. “Now.”

  He surged forward to the hilt. One hard, deep plunge. Then he withdrew and drove in again.

  She gasped and clutched at him, wrapping her legs around his hips. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  Mitch rolled his hips and thrust forward. In and out. Harder. Then faster. He held his upper body weight off her chest, resting on his forearms. Ignoring the pain in his shoulder, he cradled his hips between her bent thighs.

  He looked down at this wife. She looked up at him. The love he saw reflected back at him scalded him. He crushed his mouth to hers and plunged inside to tangle his tongue with hers, keeping time with each pump of his hips. He powered in and out, ramming into her, trying to bury himself as deep as possible—to meld their bodies together. She caressed him, hugged him, held him tight, both within her arms and within her body.

  She sucked on his tongue, moaned in his mouth and dug her nails into his ass. And he fucked her as deep, as hard and as fast as he could.

  She started to whimper. “Yes. Oh, God. Yes. Mitch. Again. I’m going to come again.”

  The pressure started to build. He felt his balls draw up tight, ready to unleash their burden. Fuck, her cunt sucked him in just as hard as he strove to drive his cock deep.

  She shuddered, then she stilled. Her body tensed. Her nails probably drew blood as the walls of her pussy squeezed and pulsed around him. Her head fell back and she pushed it into the pillow, breaking their kiss. The muscles in her neck stretched with the arch. Mitch latched on to the side of her neck, placed his mouth over the prominent tendon there and sucked, wanting to mark her. Needing to make her his again.

  Serena screamed as she came, the convulsions running through her body forcing his orgasm from his. He bucked a few times and groaned through one of the hardest climaxes he could remember in a long time. God damn.

  When he stopped shaking, he dropped down, squishing his wife, but it couldn’t be helped. Both of them breathed hard. Sweat trickled down his forehead, slid down the side of his face and fell in droplets on her chest. Fuck, I love this woman.

  She stroked up and down his back with the very tips of her fingers. The sensation tickled. But he didn’t have the strength to react.

  “That was… Wow.”

  He huffed. “Yeah. Wow.” He licked his lips.

  “I think we should get up and get dressed,” she said. “Just in case somebody else wants to use the room,” she added.

  “Not sure I can move.”

  “Well, you’re squishing me and I can’t breathe anymore, so I think you should try. I’d appreciate it.” She patted his shoulder.

  He laughed and rolled away from her to land on his back beside her.

  “You wore me out.” Serena giggled. She lay like a limp dishrag in the middle of the bed.

  In his peripheral vision, he managed to see her lips turn up in a smile. Pride swelled his chest. “Glad I could be of service.”

  Neither of them moved.

  “We should probably change the sheets before we leave, because you left a wet spot.”

  “Mitch!” She slapped his chest, laughing.

  He grabbed her hand, brought it to his mouth and kissed her fingers.

  God, he loved hearing her laugh. He hadn’t heard it in a while. And that was his fault.

  “I love you, Serena.” More than he could tell her. So much so, he just might be willing to turn his back on his career.

  She turned her head toward him. “I love you too.”

  But will she still love the man I’ll become if I can’t play ball after tomorrow?

  Chapter Ten

  Mitch dropped the weights to the floor, grabbed his towel and wiped at the sweat running down his face. He picked up his bottle of water and downed half the bottle.

  “Looking good, Ryland.”

  He looked up at one of his teammates. “Thanks, Sampson.”

  “Think you’ll be ready to play soon?”

  “That’s the plan.”

  “Good. Because we’re getting fucking creamed. If you don’t get back in the game sooner rather than later, we might as well kiss the season goodbye.”

  Yeah, Mitch was well aware of it. “Until the doc clears me, I’m benched.”

  “Well, get your ass unbenched.”

  His teammate wandered away, moving over to the punching bag and hitting it with enough force that the joist holding it bounced. He wasn’t the first player who’d offered such advice, just the most direct.

  Mitch crossed over to the mirrors to do some lunges. It wasn’t as if he enjoyed sitting on the sidelines. While he went through three reps of legwork, he thought back to his evening last week with Serena. Fuck, it had been hot. Since that night, they had talked. Nothing earth-shattering. He hadn’t told her about his father. But although he’d spent most of his time at the gym, he had told her the truth about his injury. He didn’t share his concerns that this reassessment could signal the end of his career. But she only needed to see his face to understand.

  This week’s home game would be his third sitting on the bench. He’d been working out solidly the last number of days and had a scheduled appointment with the team doctor tomorrow afternoon. Coming into this week, he’d hoped to be cleared to suit up for the game.

  Mitch rubbed his shoulder, massaging out the shooting pain he’d been feeling whenever he did anything strenuous. Somehow, he had to get through the session with his trainer while the doctor watched, and not let them realize that the ache he’d started with a few weeks ago was now a full-blown suck-in-your-breath pain. He’d prayed that the training, the ice treatments and the rest would send him on a healing path. Instead, all it had seemed to accomplish was aggravating the injury. In his gut, he knew he faced surgery. This would definitely end the season for him, and probably for the team.

  Next season was up in the air. He could bow out now, take the time to truly get better. But by the time that happened and he got back in the game, he’d be a second-string player.

  Over the last couple of nights, he’d been giving it a lot of thought. If he left on his own terms, he might be able to get a buyout. Each evening when he came home and spoke with Serena, he choked on the words to ask her for advice. He needed to come clean with her. But he wasn’t ready to make that sort of decision yet, and he knew she’d encourage him to make one. He still had time—didn’t he? And if he got through the reassessment without anyone being the wiser, then he’d be home free for at least the next few games—or until his arm failed him on a play again.

  “Hey, Ryland. Got a minute?”

  Mitch jerked his head up at the call. The coach was standing at the entrance to the workout room. He indicated with a nod of his head that he wanted Mitch to follow him. Mitch grabbed his water and his towel then moved toward the door, using every bit of strength and determination he had to keep his stride even and his arm loose at his side.

  He
walked through the door and found the coach and his trainer outside in the hall. He looked back and forth between them.

  “What’s up?”

  “How’s the arm?” Coach asked.

  Derek, the trainer, leaned against the opposite wall.

  Mitch didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth either. “Tired from today’s workout.”

  “Any pain?”

  He looked down at the floor. “Well, I happened to smack my knee with one of the weights. I’ll probably have a good-sized bruise come morning.”

  “I wasn’t referring to your leg.”

  “Been practicing lifting some weight.”

  He dared a glance at Derek, who gave nothing but his steely dark gaze. Mitch looked at the floor again.

  “Is your arm holding up?”

  So far, at least in public. But by the time he’d made it back to the change rooms after each session, he’d wanted to clutch his arm close. Only a soak in a hot tub and some ice had helped.

  “It hasn’t fallen off yet, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  Coach pinned him with a serious look. “Tomorrow Derek will be taking you through some exercises. Doc will be watching. So will I. And if Doc doesn’t think you’re ready, Mitch, you won’t be playing.”

  Shit. “I’m ready.”

  “I’d hate to lose you. You know that. The sport needs players like you. But I need you healthy and in winning shape.”

  In Mitch’s experience, most coaches were all about the win. Coach Wilkes was no different, but he also cared a great deal about his players and their futures, and he wouldn’t allow them to take unnecessary risks.

  Mitch nodded, unprepared to say anything more. Unsure he would know what to say even if he opened his mouth, so he didn’t.

  Coach left them and headed back to his office.

  Derek pushed off from the wall, but stared at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie. “Ten a.m., Mitch. We’ll get it done and out of the way before you meet with the doc early in the afternoon. If you’re cleared, you begin practicing with the team on Friday before the game.” He paused. “I know you’ve been having trouble. You’re making it through our sessions, but I can see the result of what it’s doing to you. I’m not convinced you’re ready. And if you push it, you could do irreparable damage. Listen to the coach.”

 

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