Page 33

Chapter Twenty-Five

T hat may have been the game of my life, but it’s the last thing I want to talk about. I can’t get through press fast enough, and every question that comes to me about finding out I’m having a boy only makes me want to bust out of here faster to get to Peyton.

Thankfully, after twenty-five minutes of interrogation, our PR rep cuts me loose, and I tear out of the locker room to find my wife and her family waiting for me. I scoop her into my arms and kiss her within seconds of seeing her face.

“You’re going to make me dizzy.” She giggles as I spin her in circles.

I put her down on her feet but keep her face cupped in my hands so I can admire her smile, her eyes, the tears pooled at the corners, the dimple from her mouth pushing into her cheek, the faint line that creases her forehead when she grins.

“A boy.”

I shake my head, still in shock.

Peyton shrugs.

“I told you.”

Her family laughs along with me.

“She told all of us,” Reed adds.

“Yet I’m the only man smart enough to listen to her,” Buck pipes up. “Speaking of?—”

He holds an open palm out toward Jason, and Peyton moves to stand by her grandfather with her hand on her hip.

“Pay up, buddy,” she says.

Jason shakes his head, then pulls a wad of cash out of his pocket.

“Dude, you guys aren’t stupid enough to bet on the game, are you?” My chest flutters with panic.

“Ha, no! We bet on your baby,” Jason says.

“Not all of us,” Ellie gripes, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Grampa and I won,” Peyton says, taking the cash and dividing it in half. Her grandfather pushes his half away when she offers it to him.

“I told you to keep all of it,” he says.

Peyton’s head falls to one side for a moment, then she bends down to hug Buck.

“Looks like I have a crib to buy,” she says, her eyes flitting to me.

She’s been dying to get to work on the baby’s room. We decided to invest most of the money from my deal and eventually put it toward our dream home. The guest house has a small second bedroom that will work for now.

“You pick it all. You have much better taste than I do anyhow,” I admit.

Peyton grins and then pockets her fun money. I drop my chin and lean in to kiss her softly, holding her gaze as I pull away.

“So, what happened to no traveling?”

I hope she didn’t risk anything.

“Technically, it’s no flying. So, guess who got an RV?” She quirks a brow, and I glance over her shoulder to her dad.

“Uh, tour bus, thank you very much,” Reed answers, holding up a set of keys.

My mouth hangs open with a quiet laugh over the extremes this family is willing to go to, then my eyes focus on the jersey Reed is wearing. I flinch.

“Is that—?” I whirl my finger to ask Reed to spin around. He obliges, looking over his shoulder at my name, then at me.

“Got it for a real bargain, too. Forty bucks. It’s a knock-off.”

“Ha! I’m legit enough to have knock-off jerseys! Fucking wild!”

I walk to Reed and pinch his sleeve to test the fabric. I’m impressed with the quality for a fake jersey. I’m about to ask if there’s enough time to hit the stand for one of my own when her mom tosses a plastic bag to me that I catch against my chest.

“No way!”

Nolan nods, wearing a crooked smirk.

I pull out my own fake jersey and instantly pull it over my head, pushing my arms through the sleeves. It fits weird, half because it’s a fake and half because I just yanked it over a button-down shirt. But I love this thing.

“Hey, while I think this shit is super cool, umm , you should probably get it off before management sees it. They don’t want you in anything Cyclones that they didn’t make themselves or endorse,” Bryce utters in my ear.

“Right!” My eyes go wide, and I pull my jersey off as quickly as I slipped it on and tuck it in the bag for later.

“Maybe I can wear it later,” Peyton says in a low voice. She arches a brow, and suddenly all those imaginary times I touched her over the last few days come flooding to the surface of my mind.

I can’t exactly steal her away without spending time with the family first, especially after Reed drove an RV .

. . err . . . tour bus for twenty-two straight hours to get them here in time for my game.

But thankfully, Reed pushes for an early dinner at one of his favorite spots in Portland, probably anxious to shut his eyes for ten hours before turning around and driving everyone back.

It’s just after eight and the sun has set by the time I get Peyton alone in our apartment, and the moment I carry her across the threshold, my mouth is on her body.

While the thought of her in my jersey is sexy as hell, I really don’t want to wait for her to change just to get her undressed again, so I toss the plastic bag with my jersey onto the side table by the entry, then quickly go to work lifting the Cyclones T-shirt up her body and over her head.

“I wish I wasn’t so frumpy for you,” she says as I toss her shirt to the floor.

I nip at her neck, then drag my tongue along her jawline until my teeth graze her plump bottom lip.

“Frumpy is never a word I would equate with you.”

My hand traces the curve of her shoulder, pulling her bra strap down to her bicep so I can kiss her from her collarbone to the inside of her arm.

“I’m only going to get frumpier, too,” she says, still stuck on that word.

I pull back enough to press my finger to her lips and shake my head.

“Not frumpy. Beautiful.”

Her bottom lip tucks between her teeth as she lowers her chin and looks up at me through her lashes.

“You still think so? My jeans don’t fit anymore.”

Her hands move around the sides of her body to her tummy. Mine follow the same path until our fingers intertwine over her belly.

“The bigger this gets, the more amazing you are.” I press a chaste kiss on her lips before dropping to my knees and kissing her belly. Most people wouldn’t see the bump that I can see, but it’s there. She’s showing.

Our baby boy is growing.

“A boy,” I whisper again, looking up at her with a massive smile that forces my cheeks up so high my eyes squint. Peyton’s hands dive into my hair as our eyes meet.

“Our boy,” she says. “I told you so.”

I laugh softly and bite my bottom lip.

“You did,” I say, hooking my thumbs into the cotton waistband of her leggings and slowly rolling them over her hips.

“No cameras in here, right?” Peyton jokes.

I shake my head.

“Uh huh. So I can do anything I want,” I say, slipping her leggings all the way down and removing them, along with her tennies.

My palms wrap around her calves, then slide up to her ass as I move closer on my knees.

I kiss between her legs, over the black satin triangle that covers her, as my fingers crawl up her curves, then hook the top of her panties and drag them down her hips.

She unhooks her bra while stepping out of her undies, tossing it to the floor with the rest of her clothes, then moving her hands back into my hair.

My tongue slides into her swollen center, my mouth covering her pussy as I close my eyes and suck. She tastes like all my favorite things, and the sounds she makes when my tongue flicks against her clit makes my cock swell.

“Since I only have you until morning, I might need to fuck you all night,” I say, dragging my tongue over her once more before slowly standing and removing my button-down shirt.

“I slept all the way here,” she says with a devilish smile.

I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me as I carry her into the bedroom.

“And you can sleep all the way home.”

I set her on the edge of the bed, and she scoots back, her legs parted, knees bent, and I take in her breathtaking body.

Every curve is perfect, from her full breasts to her round hips, the muscles on her arms and legs from her unrelenting discipline to keep her body working despite the pain she often feels.

“My God,” I hum, unzipping my slacks and pulling my cock out to pump while I stare at her.

“I don’t think I need to touch you to come, baby. I could come right now,” I say, toeing my shoes off and kicking my pants from my legs as I stroke myself.

“You better touch me. I drove a thousand miles for this,” she teases, and I lick my lips as I crawl above her, settling between her legs and palming her right hip.

Her hips rise as I angle my cock and slide into her sweet, wet pussy. I go in slow but deep, holding still when she’s full with me, reveling in the way she hums with pleasure and her body vibrates around me.

“You feel so fucking good,” I say, sliding out of her completely to rub her clit with the tip of my dick before pushing in again.

“Oh, my God, Wyatt!” Her head tilts back as she arches her back, her hands grasping at the loose sheets on the bed, pulling them into her as I start to rock my hips at a steady rhythm.

My hands move from her hips, roaming up her ribcage until they cup her breasts, her nipples hard rocks that beg for me to pinch them.

I squeeze them and pull, coaxing her to arch for me more.

When I let go, she takes over, rubbing her tits with her thumbs while I brace myself on my palms and drive into her.

When her body starts to quiver, she wraps her legs around me again, holding me to her and forcing me to pump my hips faster as her orgasm takes her breath away.

I come with her, shocked I was able to hold on as long as I did.

When we both finish, I roll us, still connected, so her body rests on mine and my cock can continue to flex inside of her until I’m ready to fuck her again.

Until then, I draw lazy lines along her spine and shoulder blades, secretly spelling boy names that I’ve been thinking about since we found out. She was so sure it was a boy all along, I couldn’t help but believe her.