Page 19

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

Sweet Jesus, I could live inside Becca’s pussy and be incredibly happy.

The way she responded to me, and all the sounds she made, were fucking phenomenal. I’m not even sure she knew how responsive she was. Little moans, gasps, high-pitched sighs that had me two seconds from blowing my load.

Did I visualize my team all lined up in tube socks and jockstraps in an attempt to last longer? Yes. Yes, I did.

Becca sighs against me as she snuggles into my side, nuzzling my neck in contentment. Shit. I need to get a washcloth for her, and get her under the blankets. It’s been an incredibly trying few days for her, and I know she’s exhausted.

“No,” she whimpers as I slide out from inside her, but I see the wince as my piercing drags along the nerves. “I like that thing.”

“My dick or the piercing?” I ask with a chuckle.

She smiles softly. “Both.”

Climbing off the bed, I head to the bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. Wetting it with warm water, I return to Becca to find her slowly scooting up to slide under the blankets. I grab her ankle to stop her before tenderly wiping between her thighs. She watches with eyes as wide as saucers. “Something wrong?”

“You just cleaned me,” she whispers.

“I did.”

“Is that normal?” she inquires.

My brow furrows in confusion. “I’m gonna need a little more information, darlin’. If you’re asking if I take care of my woman after sex, then yes, it’s normal. If you’re wondering if I can last longer, then yeah. If you’re wanting to know when we can do that again, I have every intention of waking you up at some point tonight.”

Becca’s ears tinge pink as her cheeks flush. “I meant the first part.”

I fight the urge to smile. I’m loving how bashful she is right now. Tossing the washcloth onto the bathroom floor, I turn off the light and climb into bed beside my wife.

My wife.

Fuck, I love that.

Not giving Becca a chance to argue, I put my arm around her and pull her into my side. Burying my face in her hair, I speak. “There are a few things you’ll learn about me, Spitfire, and some of them might piss you off because of how independent I know you are. Whenever you’re with me, you won’t open a door. Anywhere. I’ll always make sure you’re comfortable, no matter where we are. Better expect that I won’t let you pay from now on. I’m open in the bedroom. You want to try something? Just talk to me. Rest assured, though, because you’ll come first, and you’ll come often. And yes, I’ll be cleaning you up every time.”

“Wow,” she breathes. “Part of you is a gentleman, and part of you is a rake.”

I let out a bark of laughter. “I don’t know about that.”

I feel her tense and hear her intake of breath as she debates on saying something, so I squeeze my arm around her tighter. “It’s okay, darlin’. Just say what you want to say.”

“Well, it’s just —” she stammers. “You say you’re open in the bedroom. What exactly does that mean? Open to trying positions, or bringing in some toys? Or open as in you’d want to bring other people in —”

I interrupt her immediately. “There will be no other people. I don’t fucking share, Becca.”

She lets out a loud exhale. “Oh thank God. I don’t want anyone else in there. I don’t like sharing either, you know.”

“Good,” I tell her, smiling against the top of her head.

I fall asleep with Becca tightly in my arms, and get the best sleep I’ve had in months.

Six hours later, we’re boarding the team plane back to Denver. Coach must have warned the team, because every one of my teammates stands to greet Becca warmly. As soon as I have Becca safely into the back of the plane, Levi motions for me to come to where he’s sitting with Gabe and Grant.

“Care to explain why you didn’t even have a girlfriend, and the woman who is now your wife wasn’t even replying to your texts a week ago?” he asks pointedly.

“Long story. Becca has a shitty family, and I gladly helped her out by marrying her.”

“Is this just a temporary thing?” Gabe asks.

I shrug. “She might think it is. But I’m gonna make her fall in love with me.”

Grant snorts. “Pretty sure that’s not how love works, oh Captain, my Captain.”

“Can you quit it with the Dead Poets’ Society reference, Nally? I had to Google that shit, and now my suggestions are weird.” I cast a quick glance back at Becca, who is trying to seem nonchalant, surrounded by hockey players, but failing miserably. “I’m telling y’all, she’s it for me. I knew she was different from the first moment I saw her.”

I vaguely hear the door closing, but don’t fully register it until I notice everyone around us stand up and start removing their clothes. “Fuck!”

Turning, I lunge back toward Becca, frantically waving my arms. Eyes bugging out of her head, and her mouth open in shock, I reach her and cover her eyes. “Jax!”

“God dammit, woman, I told you to call me Jacob,” I mutter, forcing her head into my chest.

She laughs openly against me. “What is going on? Is this normal? Aren’t there any females that travel with the team? They didn’t do this for my benefit did they?”

I watch my teammates, suddenly furious that she saw them all in varying stages of undress. I’m by no means self-conscious. I know I’m in shape. Kinda have to be in this line of work. But I’m in my mid-thirties. I know some of the younger guys are packing more abs than me. “How much did you see?”

“Just everyone standing up, a couple shirts coming off, and then you flying back here to protect my virginal eyes,” she cackles. “What was that?”

“You’d have done the same thing if a group of women suddenly started undressing in front of me.”

“Are they done yet?” she asks, her voice muffled. “I feel like they all think I’m giving you a blow job right now.”

Shit. She’s right, and as soon as I let go of her head, she pops up, her hair in disarray. Fortunately, no one is looking at us. They’re all comfortable and in their seats. “Sorry about that. Guess I got a little self-conscious there for a sec.”

She gives me a sweet smile. “I don’t see why you’d be. You’re pretty impressive, Jacob Mitchell. Now tell me why they all did that.”

“We always do it. No one wants to fly for hours in an uncomfortable suit.”

“Do all teams undress on the plane?” she asks. “What about other sports?”

“No clue. Guess I’ll have to ask my friend Jamie if the NFL teams do this as well. The NHL is a stickler for game day travel outfits, though. Other sports let guys dress however they want.”

“Do you want to get undressed?” she asks shyly. Her hand finds my tie, tugging on it. “You do look handsome all dressed up, but I understand it must be cumbersome for a three or four hour flight.”

“I’m fine. You better stop looking at me like that, though, or I’ll have us joining the mile high club here before long.”

Becca blinks rapidly. “You most certainly will not. Have you seen those bathrooms? They’re disgusting, and there isn’t enough room for anything good to happen.”

I fake stretching before laying my arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know how much you know about hockey players, but we’re actually pretty flexible.”

She cocks a brow at me. “Is that so?”

I nod, leaning toward Becca and pecking her lips quickly. “If you want to find out how bendy I am, just say the word.”

Usually on trips, I’m in my own little world. I might read, take a nap, or zone out while listening to some music. None of that happens with Becca next to me. When we weren’t talking, I found myself just watching her. I truly don’t think she knows how beautiful she is. Physically, yes. But her soul is what speaks to me. Her breathtaking soul makes me want to do anything to make her happy.

We talked about where we both like to hike, and how she thinks her dog will react to me. I’ve yet to broach the subject of my guinea pig room to her in full. Most people think I’m embellishing details. That it’s probably just a big cage or two. Nope, it’s a whole ass room.

We discussed what we both like to eat, and I found that our daily diets are pretty in tune with one another. At first, when Becca started talking about clean eating, I worried she thought she was fat. That isn’t the case. She’s very conscientious of what she puts in her body, especially colorants and chemicals. When I told her I love to cook when I can, she excitedly began making plans for all the healthy meals we can prepare together each week.

I asked if she’d be okay with moving in with me, and she agreed. I have the space. My apartment is probably too big for just me and the pigs. Besides, I like knowing she’ll be in a safer apartment building when I’m on away trips.

Becca falls asleep as we’re beginning our approach into Denver, and I’m surprised when her phone vibrates with an incoming call. Being a nosy husband, I look at the screen, only to growl when I see it’s her brother. Leaning away from Becca, I answer the call.

“What the fuck do you want, asshole?” I hiss.

“Oh. It’s the husband ,” Rodney sneers. “Interesting that it seems you only got married last night, when my dear sister insinuated you were already legally wed.”

“Really doesn’t matter now, does it? She’s my wife, and you can go fuck yourself.”

“My, my. Hockey players sure do have vulgar mouths,” he says cheerfully. “It doesn’t matter. Your marriage will end, one way or another, and I’ll get my way.”

“The fuck you will,” I snarl. “Let me make something perfectly clear, Ronald.”

“It’s Rodney.”

“I literally don’t fucking care.” I cast a quick glance down at Becca, wondering if she’s faking sleep, as I continue. “You so much as glance at my wife, and I’ll make you pay. You’ve very much underestimated me. I will stop at nothing to protect her. Understood?”

Rodney laughs heartily. “You won’t do a damn thing. It would end your precious hockey career.”

“You think I care about that? I’ve got the girl of my dreams and millions in my bank accounts. Test me, Randolph. Just fucking test me. Lose this fucking number.”

I end the call, then go into Becca’s contacts and find Rodney’s info. First, I forward his contact to my phone, and then I block him from Becca’s. Good riddance.

“He won’t stop until I do what he wants,” Becca says clearly, jarring me. Her head pops up, and a sheen of tears threatens to spill down her cheeks. “He won’t stop. He’ll drag you through the media. He’ll get you fired. He’ll go after your money. It won’t end until he gets his way.”

Turning, I gently grasp her chin with my thumb and forefinger. “Sounds like your brother and I share a couple of traits. Tenacity being one of them, but also stubbornness. I’ll be damned if I let that little jackass try to bully me into giving you up. You’re mine, darlin’. And I protect what’s mine.”

She gives me a shaky smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “No one has ever called me theirs before. Does that mean you’re mine as well?”

“Fuck yes, it does,” I whisper as I kiss her deeply. No one has ever called me theirs either, and fuck if that doesn’t make me realize something monumental.

I’m in love with this woman. I know it. She brings a peace to me that I never thought possible. I felt a pull toward her from the moment she ran into me, and it didn’t lessen, even when we didn’t talk.

I told the guys I would make Becca fall in love with me, so now I have to figure out exactly how to do it.