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“You wanted me to act like your wife, right?”
“Well, go ahead, then,” she whispers, lying there for the taking. “Treat me like your wife.”
“I like seeing you in my jersey,” I whisper. “Almost as much as I like seeing that ring on your finger.”
She has me in the palm of her hand and literally has no fucking idea.
When I step inside, I already know she’s in here without even laying eyes on her. I feel her before I see her.
I’ll wait forever for Scottie. I told her before this whole thing started that I wouldn’t lose.
But with Emory, it’s different. When he looks at me, I can’t think straight. When he touches me, I lose my footing. When he kisses me, I’m his. I’ve never wanted to be on someone’s mind like I want to be on Emory’s.
I’m obsessed with the thought of him needing to touch me. Like he can’t breathe without it.
“Stop holding back,” he whispers, grabbing the side of my face. His calloused hand scratches my cheek, and when his fingers bury themselves in my hair, I do as he says. For the first time, I initiate the kiss. I’m immediately swept away. I start off slow, kissing him with caution, but as soon as he pulls me on top of him, I deepen the kiss and lose myself.
“That’s it,” he encourages, gripping me tightly as I rub against him. “We’re too far gone to hold back now, Scottie.”
“Do you want me so badly you can’t think straight? Because that’s how I feel when it comes to you.”
“Let me make you mine.” His plea grazes my lips. “Right here. Just like this.”
“Please, Scottie,” he begs,
I’m done for.
“Make me yours,...
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“Fuck,” he...
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“God, you were fucking made for me,”
Do you miss me?
have no problem admitting that I miss her.
I miss you when you’re across the room from me.
It’s not a lie. It’s the truth, even if I’ve yet to say that out loud.
Don’t be shy. I’m your husband. Let me see how perfect you are.
I click my phone off. If I stare at her any longer, I’m afraid I’ll come right here, and I will be damned if I don’t fuck my wife tonight and prove to her that she’s mine.
I don’t like to be bossed around. He knows this. I know this. Yet, I do exactly what he says.
The headstrong part of me is withering inside, but the way his hands feel on my body outweighs every single breath in my lungs, let alone every willful thought.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers, taking me deeper with his other hand wrapped around my waist. “Let go for me again. I’ll catch you every time.”
All I know is that somehow, between the moment she cornered me in the arena bathroom and now, she’s become my favorite thing in the world.
But standing here and arguing with myself over whether or not to tell my wife that I no longer want our marriage to be a ruse seems counterproductive.
I turn, and my stomach drops to the floor. I have tunnel vision, and the only thing I see is her. God damn. She’s mine.
“You look beautiful.”
“Wow,” she whispers into my ear. “That was awfully believable. Are you trying to prove something to someone?”
“It better be believable. It was real.”
He’s going to shatter my heart. For the first time in my life, it feels full. I feel complete and safe. I can’t think of a time where I’ve ever felt like this,
want you to look at me while I praise you, because it’s what you need.” He pauses. “Especially from your husband.”
My heart does a triple flip when he rolls his white dress shirt sleeves up his forearms. His veins pop, and I swear to god, he gets ten times hotter.
I’m fucking my wife in the men’s bathroom, and I’m treating her like she’s a slut, but fuck, I think she likes it.
I’m in love with her. I’m totally fucking in love with her.
“Don’t shut me out. Let me be here for you.”
“I was trying to give you space earlier.” He grips my chin and brings me to look at him. “But you don’t need space.” He pauses. “You need me.”
It's surreal to see such a strong, willful man become so soft and genuine. It’s hard to believe that he wants to be like that with me.
“I’m coming home.”
I laugh. “Stop it.”
He pauses. “You s...
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“Stop ...
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“Stop making me fall in love with you.”
My hearttttttt
When I turn and see her, my world tilts.
My chest is tight, and my heart does this weird movement that only ever happens when I know Scottie is happy. Like it can’t beat properly if she is anything but.
