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Big Man’s Happily Ever After

Page 30

by Wylder, Penny


  “Kill you?” she asks with a giggle, rolling her body against my side.

  “Yeah, kill me, because I don’t think my heart has ever raced this hard or this fast.” Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I pull her in as close as I can.

  She fits perfectly into the crook of my arm, like she’s been made for this space. Her body contours to mine, like a puzzle piece falling into place.

  And as we lay together, I’m struck with a sense of being complete. This woman was put on earth for me to find.

  Now I just need her to see it too.

  Because I’ve decided. I’m never letting her go.

  * * *

  Blinking my eyes open, I’m struck by a weight against my side. Looking down, Gil is still tucked in the same place she was when we fell asleep.

  I watch her for a moment, studying her face, her features, the little things that make her so beautiful. Her nose bumps up a little at the end, her cheeks are covered in really tiny freckles I had never noticed before. Her lips are twitching in her sleep, popping up into a slight grin and folding down with her brows as if she’s thinking really hard.

  Running one finger around the frame of her face, I softly touch her chin, moving to the shell of her ear and feathering over her brows. I don’t want to wake her. I could lay here all day like this and just study her.

  She slowly opens her eyes, and I smile. “Good morning,” I say, brushing loose strands of hair off her forehead and out of her face.

  Gillian smiles back, her eyes bright, squinting slightly as she yawns. “Good morning.”

  “Did you sleep well?”

  She nods. “The best I’ve slept in years actually.” Rolling to her back, she pushes herself up. “Have you been up long?”

  “Long enough to know you make cute faces in your sleep.” Chuckling, I push myself up too, and run a hand through my hair.

  “Stop it!” she laughs, hitting me lightly on my chest. “Do I really?”

  “Yeah. You must have been dreaming about something.”

  “Well, I don’t remember, if I was.” She giggles as she stretches her arms up high. “What time is it?”

  Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I check the time. “Almost seven thirty. We should probably head back.”

  “Yeah, that sounds good.” She climbs out of bed and gets fresh clothes from her suitcase. “So, how is this going to work exactly?” she asks as she slips into her clothes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like, you weren’t expecting us to live together now, were you? I mean, I’m just checking to make sure I understand the plan. We’re going to go about our lives like this never happened, right?”

  I want to live together. We should live together, but not because we have to, because we want to. . . At least, I want to.

  “We’ll figure it out later. I’ll talk to Eddie and see what the lawyer thinks.” I don’t tell her what I’m really thinking. I’m still trying to figure out how she truly feels about me.

  One second I feel like we’re on the same page, and the next she seems cold, like there’s literally nothing between us.

  Gillian nods as she heads into the bathroom gets ready to leave. She doesn’t notice me, but I watch her. I sneak peeks through the half open bathroom door as she’s brushing her hair. Hell, I even watch her as she brushes her teeth and think it’s completely adorable. When she closes the door and I hear the shower turn on, I’m disappointed. And instantly hard. Thinking of her undressing, getting under the hot water. When the water runs down her body, will she smell me and our sex from last night in the steam? When she washes between her legs will she remember me fucking her last night? When she gets out of the shower just wrapped in a small hotel towel, she brings her clothes back into the bathroom to dress. It’s agonizing watching her walk away. Knowing how her skin would feel under my fingertips. Knowing just how pretty and pink her nipples are. I shake my head and will my erection to go away. We have a long drive in front of us and I don’t need this particular distraction right now. I busy myself by bringing our bags down to the car, and I stop in the little shop to buy a few snacks and waters for the drive.

  We make the long seven hour drive back to California, and I’m happy that we are able to fill most of the time in conversation. We have plenty to talk about and I really love making her laugh. She’s tells me some crazy stories about growing up in a house with six brothers, and even tells me some gossip about athletes we both know. She’s super careful to stay professional, and nothing she says is inappropriate, but still, it makes me realize just how small the professional athlete community is and how news gets around quickly.

  She’s impressive in so many ways, and it only makes me like her that much more. She loves sports, knows how to throw a football, and even can change her own oil and brakes on her car. She doesn’t need help from anyone and is willing to fall hard to get what she wants. The hours fly by and we finally arrive back in Tahoe.

  “I’m right up here on the left. See? The long driveway with the red mailbox.” Pointing her finger out in front, she shows me where her house is.

  Turning up her driveway, I pull in and park outside her house. It’s a nice house, an A-frame, sitting right on Silver Lake.

  “Holy shit, Gil, this is your place?”

  “Yeah,” she says casually. “Why?”

  “I don’t know, it just seems—”

  “Too expensive for a physical therapist?” I half smile and shrug, causing her to laugh out loud. “My grandfather owned the land for years. When he passed, he left it to me. It took some time, but I saved and built this house. Sometimes being cheap is a good thing.” She winks and hops out of the car with her bag.

  “Here,” I call out, jumping from my seat, “let me walk you to your door.”

  “I’m a big girl, Ryon. You don’t have to do that.”

  “I know, but I want to.”

  “Suit yourself.” She flashes me a smile and turns to walk to her door.

  Stopping on the front step, she pulls out her key, unlocks the door, and holds her bag at her waist by the handle. I’m in front of her, and to be honest, I don’t want to say goodbye. I want this, whatever this feeling is between us, to just stay right here.

  It feels too good. Too real. Too incredible not to have all the time.

  Leaning in, I give her a delicate kiss on her lips. Her eyes soften and her body leans into mine, giving me a kiss of her own. Our mouths are so close, but not touching as we stare into each other’s eyes.

  I can’t. I can’t let her go like this.

  Grabbing her around the waist, I press my lips against hers and kiss her. Her hands instantly drop the bag to the ground and she drives them into my hair. Her tongue is warm as it slips into my mouth and she tastes like apples.

  Our kiss goes from delicate to feverish in seconds. Her nails rake across my scalp, moving across my shoulders and then to the middle of my back. Taking a firm step forward, I force her back against the door, and start to slide my hands under her shirt.

  “Wait, wait, wait,” she says, stopping my hands and pushing them down. “Not here,” her eyes glance toward the tree line. “My neighbors are nosy. Let’s go inside.”

  Swooping her off her feet, I carry her in my arms. “Over the threshold we go,” I say as I step inside and kick the door shut behind me. Glancing around, I take a step forward and then stop.

  “What’s wrong?” she asks nervously.

  “I don’t have a damn clue where I’m going. I’ve never been in your house before.” Laughing, I twist my body left to right. “Some guidance would be nice.”

  Gillian starts to giggle and points to the hall. “Bedroom is up the stairs, last door on the end.”

  With long strides, I climb the steps and move down the hall. The door is partially closed, so I give it a little kick to throw it open. I stand outside the door, staring into her room, seeing her bed, and something inside me ignites.

  This isn’t just a random place. It’
s not a hotel room, or even the front seat of my car. This is her room, her bed, the bed of my wife.

  “Why did you stop right here?” she asks, gently running her fingers down my face, grabbing my attention.

  “I don’t know. I guess this is just more personal than the hotel.”

  “You’re right. Now, if you’d kindly make your way over to the bed, I’d like you to fuck me.” She laughs lightly, but her smile, her smile is nothing but dark and dirty.

  Crossing the threshold, I walk to her bed, and lay her down. Her hair fans out behind her head like a sea of gold. Unbuttoning her shorts, she pulls them off as I stand above her and watch.

  The look in her eyes is telling me she likes this. She wants me to watch her undress, to tease me, to make me hard as she exposes more skin.

  Her shirt is next as she shimmies it over her head, dropping it to the floor. Wearing a red bra and black panties, she reminds me of a sexy Queen of Hearts.

  “Hot damn,” I say as I run a hand over my ever hardening cock.

  She twists her body softly, lifting her hands above her head, and rubbing her legs back and forth. “You like what you see?” she asks, slipping her hands down the outside of her breasts and over her stomach. Reaching her mound, she cups it and smirks at me.

  “I love what I see.” Tearing off my shirt, I throw it to the side, and climb up between her legs.

  Kissing her deeply, I brush my fingers through her hair, moving them down her ribs and under her ass. Gillian moans into my mouth as I move my lips to her neck and give her a little bite.

  “Mm, fuck, Ry. I like that.”

  “I like when you call me Ry,” I whisper back against her skin. She coos lightly, arching her back sharply as I drag my teeth across her collarbone.

  Smirking, my eyes stay on her as I slide down her body. Cupping both her knees, I open her legs wide and hold them in place. She inhales a quick breath as I hover over her pussy and pluck at her panties with my teeth.

  Her panties snap back against her pussy, causing her entire body to jerk up and her legs to try to close. But I don’t let them shut, I dig my fingers in harder and hold them in place.

  I love watching her body react to me like this. The way she writhes, the way she’s squirming and trying to force her pussy closer to my mouth.

  “I’m ready for a taste,” I say, dipping my fingers under the seam of her underwear and ripping the weak lace material in half. Throwing her panties behind my head, I grip her thighs and stare at her beautiful pussy.

  Smooth, wet, and so very, very lickable. I flick the tip of my tongue softly against her center. She shivers, tilting her head back deeper into the pillow. My tongue begins to work her. Lapping up her arousal, drinking her in as I suck on her clit.

  “Yeah, fuck yeah,” she says, pressing down on my head and tugging at my hair.

  Faster and faster, I flick my tongue against her swelling bead, loving every last drop. She tastes so sweet. I could do this all damn day.

  Releasing her thighs from my grip, I slip my hands under her ass and lift her off the bed slightly. It’s the perfect angle for me to play with her asshole. My tongue spears her pussy a few times, then glides down to her tight ass and circles her asshole.

  She groans loudly, digging her heels into the mattress to help hold her up. Taking one hand out from under her ass, I start to rub her clit with the pad of my thumb. My tongue keeps working her ass, the tip dipping in just a little as I massage her pussy.

  Her thighs are shaking and her moans are getting louder. Clutching her head, she lets out a throaty yell as her clit start to throbs. She’s about to come. I can feel her muscles tighten as her back lifts off the bed.

  Setting my hand on her belly, I push her back down and move my mouth to her pussy so I can feel her come on my face. Her pussy get wetter as her clit pulses, and a shudder runs through her body.

  Climbing to my feet, I yank down my jeans and grip my cock at the base. “Now I want to make you come again.” Stroking my length, her eyes expand as her breathing is already ragged.

  I can see she’s still in an orgasm daze, which makes me grin as I reach for my wallet to get a condom. Checking the pockets, I’m out.

  “Shit, I’m out of condoms,” I say. “You have one?”

  She shakes her head no, her legs gliding back and forth over each other, ready to feel my cock. “I don’t, but I don’t care. Do you?”

  “You sure?” I ask. “I don’t want to do anything you might regret.”

  “Fuck me, Ry, I don’t give a shit about anything else right now, just fuck me. Make sure to pull out.” Spreading her legs wide, she starts to finger herself. “Please fuck me.”

  She’s begging me, and the tone of her voice makes my dick thicken and my heart hammer. I love hearing her beg for me. It turns me from man to beast. I want to claim my woman, my wife. And that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

  Pressing my tip against her entrance, I thrust my cock hard into her pussy. Her walls trap me inside and Gil groans into my ear as I drop my head into the crook of her neck. She urges me on; her hands are on my ass, making me fuck her harder and harder. It feels so good to fuck her with nothing between us. Her fingernails are practically breaking my skin, and the headboard is knocking against the wall like we’re in some sort of porno. She’s so close, and I know this won’t last long. She urges me on. “Harder, Ry. Harder.”

  I get on my knees and grab her ankles, holding them up. I fuck her like we’re the only two people in the world. Everything blacks out around me, and it’s just me and her. This perfect feeling of fucking her. Her heat. So wet. So hot. I feel her pussy clenching around me, and her pleas turns into keening and I know she’s coming. Every instinct in me tells me to keep fucking her. To never leave this heaven between her legs, but I know I have to. And just as I feel my orgasm break through the surface, I come back to earth and pull out, stroking my cock, so wet from her pussy, and watching the spurts of cum fall on her perfectly pink and swollen pussy. One after the other. I feel like I’ve never come so hard before in my life. I

  Fucking my wife is the best feeling in the world.

  I can’t imagine myself with anyone else. Gillian Sannow has stolen my heart.

  I wonder if I stole hers.

  8

  Ryon

  Working on my shoulder, I count the reps in my head as I pull back on the thick elastic band. One, two, three. . .

  From the corner of my eye, I spot Gil as she crosses the gym. She sees me too and gives me a small smile. I wink at her slyly, giving her head nod as she moves to another one of her patients in the room.

  Finishing up, I check the time on the clock hanging above the door and realize it’s time for me to go meet Kyle to check the progress of my arm in the bullpen.

  Heading outside, he spots me as come out the door, and yells, “Hey, Ryon. . .” He pauses, slapping the inside of his glove. “You ready to take that sucker out for a drive today?”

  “Hell yeah, I’m ready. I’ve been ready for weeks, but everyone else is afraid.” He tosses me a ball, and I roll it between my fingertips.

  It feels good, it feels really fucking good. The way the stitches are sitting against the creases of my fingers, the weight of it in my palm. . . This is where I belong.

  Stretching my arm, I throw a few easy pitches. I don’t want to overdo it and hurt myself, but I’m eager to throw harder. He squats down, and I give it a good throw. The ball hits the pad with a loud thwap.

  “Shit, Ryon, you definitely haven’t lost anything.” He pulls the glove off and shakes his hand as if it hurts.

  “Yeah, okay,” I say sarcastically. “I’m sure you’re really hurt.”

  “Excuse me,” a younger player comes up cautiously. “I’m sorry, but are you Ryon Daniels?”

  He can’t be more than eighteen or nineteen. He has a tuft of blond hair poking out from under his cap and a youthful, enthusiastic look on his face. The kid is tall and lean, and it almost looks like his uniform is
wearing him.

  “I am.” There’s a smile on my face instantly. It’s always nice to be recognized.

  “Wow, I followed you through your first two years, you were incredible. I’m Steve Caulder. I started with the Tigers a few months back. Didn’t make the cut for pro, but minor leagues is a start.”

  “Most of the greats came from the minors, and thanks, man, I’m hoping to get back there at some point once this shoulder heals.”

  “Yeah, I sprained my wrist.” He rolls his wrist around.

  “Let me see what you got.” Walking to the base, Kyle tosses me his catcher’s mitt and steps to the side. Dropping down, I hold the glove out. “Show me your curve ball.”

  “Yeah? You’re serious?”

  Slamming a fist into the glove, I nod. “Put it here.”

  Watching his hands, he twists the ball, and I can tell instantly he isn’t gripping it right. His fingers are off the threads, and he isn’t holding it tight enough. I let him throw a few balls, then I call him over.

  After he adjusts, and follows my instructions, his curve ball is nearly perfect, and his slider lands low, exactly where you want it. He’s exactly what a pitching coach wants in a rookie player: fresh, eager to learn, and willing to listen.

  The kid leaves and Kyle walks up to me with another guy I’ve seen around before. “Ryon, this is Henry Vallerie. He’s a local scout for the National League.”

  “Hey, nice to meet you,” I say.

  “You too. I’ve gotten to see you play a few times. I wish I had been the one to discover you.” He chuckles, pointing his finger over at the young player. “You know, you have a talent for teaching. Have you ever thought about becoming a pitching coach?”

  Arching my brows, I shake my head. “No, I’m itching to get back on the field. I’m a pitcher, I don’t train them.”

  “Well, if you ever change your mind, give me a call. I know a few teams that could use you.”

 

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