Page 22

The following day, I headed back to work, and was immediately called into Brad’s office.

“You wanted to see me?” I asked from the doorway, hesitant to step foot in the room.

“Yeah. Leave the door open,” Brad says as he pulls at the neck of his shirt. Is he nervous? “Look, Becca. Clearly I overstepped with our last conversation. Looking back, I can see that I came across pretty creepy.”

“You did,” I admit.

“I owe you a sincere apology. You remind me a lot of my younger sister, and I think I took the role a little too far. Not only did I overstep a professional boundary, but also a physical one. I never should have placed my hand on your shoulder, and I promise it will never happen again.”

“Thank you,” I respond with a slight stammer. I did not expect the conversation to go this way at all.

“Word on the street is you’re now a married woman?” he asks. “Will you be changing your name?”

“Oh,” I say, surprised. “I hadn’t even thought about that yet.”

“Rick wanted to do a story about the marriage, but I told him no. An athlete suddenly marrying someone in Vegas is a bit of a breaking news situation, but since it involves one of our own, we won’t be addressing it.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that. It’s been a whirlwind.”

“Are you …” he trails off before looking me in the eye. “Are you okay? Happy?”

I feel a smile break across my face as I nod. “I am very happy. Jacob makes me feel so content.”

Brad laughs. “You don’t call him Jax?”

I shake my head. “He’s never been Jax to me. I get to see the man no one else sees. The patient, caring, and peaceful man. Jax is a hockey star, but Jacob is my husband.”

It’s possible I bit off more than I can chew with Jacob’s guinea pigs. And yes, I did mean that as a pun.

After carefully watching Jacob’s routine for a week, I thought I had everything under control for his first road trip. Boy was I mistaken.

He said they liked spinach. How was I supposed to know they’d basically yank it out of my hand and then fight over it? I was accidentally bitten when I tried to separate Rose and Lily. That was after Dahlia kicked her poo onto my shirt. Daisy hides from me, and I can’t coax her out from one of the huts, no matter what I try.

In an attempt to make things fun, I ordered these edible ball treats. The amount of research I did on toys for guinea pigs is pretty hysterical. The balls are good for exercise but also for their teeth. Jacob told me he occasionally lets them out of the cages.

As I nervously survey the cages, I hear a loud sigh from under the door. Thunder will not give up his desire to meet the pigs face-to-face. Thankful for that noise as a reminder, I take a towel and jam it under the door to ensure no pigs make it out of the room. That’s all I’d need to happen. “Hi, honey. How was your trip? By the way, my dog ate one of your guinea pigs.”

I really don’t want to have that conversation.

Alright, Becs. Put on your big girl pants and do this.

Gingerly opening the first cage, I’m able to grab Bluebell quickly. She squeaks once, then settles into my palm. Next is Rose, who side-eyes me before pooping in my hand. Lovely. Lily and Daffodil are harder to catch, but as soon as they’re set on the ground, they gleefully jump around.

I had to lure Daisy out of one of the huts with a treat. Jacob said she was the eater of the bunch, and now I understand. She weighs quite a bit more than the rest.

Finally, I track down Dahlia, who nervously shakes as I carefully put her in my hand. White with black spots, she peers up at me, and I think I fall in love with her immediately. “Well, aren’t you just adorable?”

I sit on the floor by the door, watching the pigs scope out the room, but Dahlia won’t leave my hand. She seems content to hang with me instead of roaming around with her sisters. Are they even related? Whatever.

Yawning, I lean my head against the door. It’s been a long day. Usually I’m in bed by now, but Jacob has a game in California, and I’m trying to stay up until he calls. He’s called every day that he’s been gone, and I find I’m missing him more than I expected.

Glancing at my phone, I see that it’s almost ten o’clock. My alarm goes off at three. I really can’t survive on less than five hours of sleep, so I decide to get the pigs squared away in their cages for the night so I can attempt a little bit of shut-eye. I quickly get four of them relocated, but I can’t find Rose and Bluebell.

“Seriously? Where the hell could they go?” I murmur as I check the towel under the door to see if it had been moved at all. A scratching noise under the chair alerts me to Rose’s location, but Bluebell is nowhere to be found. Near tears, I’m praying that I find her immediately, when my phone rings, scaring the crap out of me.

“Hey, Spitfire,” Jacob’s voice says warmly.

“Hi,” I whisper.

“What’s wrong?” His voice sharpens as he hones in on my distress quickly.

“Nothing.” I don’t want to admit to my husband that I lost one of his guinea pigs.

“Baby,” he says softly, and my heart skips a beat, “I know when you’re lying. What happened?”

“I don’t want to tell you.”

“Did something happen with your family? I swear, if your brother showed up there because he knew I’d be gone, I’ll fly to Indiana right now and shove my fist in his mouth so fucking hard I’ll have his teeth imprinted in the back of his skull,” he snarls.

I can’t help the giggle that bursts from my mouth. “Nothing with my family.”

“You promise?” he asks warily.

“I promise.”

“Something with work?”

“No.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me, darlin’.”

I sigh, knowing he’s right. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“I promise I’ll try not to be mad.”

“Fine. So I’ve been trying to spend time with the pigs multiple times a day so they get used to me, and tonight, I thought they’d enjoy getting out of their cages for a little bit. You had said you did that occasionally, so I thought it was fine. I even bought some special treats, and everything was going fine, but now …”

Jacob chuckles. “Bluebell likes to climb under the recliner I have in there, and because of her coloring, she blends in with the fabric. You can’t see her unless you’re pointing a flashlight directly at her. Stick a piece of spinach under the chair, and she’ll follow it.”

“How did you know that’s what I was going to say?” I ask incredulously.

“Two reasons. She’s done that to me more than once.”

“And the other reason?”

“Now it’s your turn to promise you won’t be mad,” he says with an amused tone.

“Okay?”

“I have a camera in the room, baby. I saw you get everyone back in the cages but Bluebell.”

I jump up, looking all over the room, finally locating a very small camera hidden at the top of a bookshelf. “This would have been nice to know a few days ago, Jacob.”

“Maybe. But I’ve enjoyed watching you without your knowledge.”

“Why do you have a camera in here?”

“Checking on the pet sitter initially. But then I found that watching them before going to bed on away trips actually relaxed me. So I kept the camera.”

“Any other cameras I should know about?”

“No.”

Huh. I’m weirdly disappointed in that.

Jacob lets out a loud bark of laughter. “Do you want me to put in more cameras, Spitfire?”

“What? No!”

“Becca, I literally just told you I’m watching you right now. You’re pouting. What exactly would happen if there were more cameras?”

“I don’t know. I’m as surprised as you are about my reaction.” Just talking about this with Jacob is making me all hot and bothered. “It doesn’t matter because there aren’t any cameras. Anyway, I just dangle a piece of spinach under the chair and she’ll come out?”

“Yeah. Go ahead and try. I’ll wait.”

It takes a few minutes before Bluebell takes the bait, and once she’s safely back in the cage system, I let out a relieved exhale. “I don’t think you have to worry about me taking them out of their cages anytime soon. That was way more stressful than I thought it would be.”

“You’ll get used to it. I love that you’re trying, darlin’. Are you heading to bed now?” Jacob asks.

“My alarm goes off in five hours, so yes. I wanted to stay up to see how your game went.”

Jacob gives me the rundown on his game as I lock up the apartment and make my way to the bedroom. After brushing my teeth, I climb into his big bed, noticing again how empty it is without him here.

“Turn on FaceTime, darlin’,” Jacob commands quietly.

“What? Why?” I ask.

“If you want to be watched, I’m gonna watch while you get yourself off.”

“Jacob!” I hiss, outraged as I look around the room wildly. I snort as I realize how absurd I must look, and I’m thankful there isn’t a camera in here for Jacob to watch me act like a buffoon.

“You were disappointed I didn’t have more cameras around the apartment. It turns you on to think about me watching you. So you’re gonna put Thunder in the hallway, turn on your camera, and then you’re gonna get yourself off while I tell you all the things I’d do to you if I were there right now.”

Hand shaking, I force my dog outside the bedroom door, close it, then pull the phone away from my ear to press the FaceTime option. Jacob’s handsome face fills the screen after one ring. Hair still damp from a shower, he’s shirtless, stretched back against a hotel bed, with one arm propped behind his head. He’s too pretty for his own good.

“There is something about how sexy you look in my bed. I think this is my favorite version of you. No makeup, no practiced performance that you have to put on for television. It’s just you. All natural. Beautiful. Mine.” His blue eyes stare intensely at me, sheer lust emanating from them in heady waves.

Holy moly. “ Jacob .”

He groans, his eyes closing. “Fucking love when you say my name like that, Spitfire. I’m hard as a rock right now. What I wouldn’t give to sink into your incredible pussy, feel you clench around me. Best fucking feeling on the planet.”

Rubbing my thighs together, I relish in the friction it creates. “I wish you were here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Touch yourself, baby. Slowly. I want you to gently circle your clit, but nothing else,” he commands, his voice rough and husky as he watches.

Too far gone to care about how embarrassing it could be if anyone knew about this, I slide my hand into my panties, immediately moaning when I touch my clit. “Do you — do you want to see?”

“No,” he replies gruffly. “I want to see your face when you come. I know your pussy intimately, and while I have every intention of spending quite a bit of time between your legs whenever I get the chance, it’s your face that I need right now.”

I gaze into his eyes, and I know I can’t continue unless he joins in. “Will you touch yourself for me, please, Jacob?”

“Fuck,” he hisses, his arm dropping from behind his head. “I’ll do anything for you, darlin’.”

Keeping his camera focused on his face, I see a shoulder shift as Jacob maneuvers into a different position. Without me asking, he tilts the camera down to show a hand wrapped around his shaft, his boxer briefs pulled down slightly so he can stroke the length comfortably. I’m completely enthralled as I watch his thumb swipe around the frenum piercing. So focused, in fact, that I’ve stopped touching myself, and Jacob chuckles. “If you can’t stay on task, wife, I won’t let you watch me.”

“It’s just …” I trail off.

“What?” he asks quietly.

I sigh as my middle finger resumes circling my clit. “I’ve never done this before. I must have assumed it was taboo, but it’s not. It’s incredibly erotic and sensual watching you like this. Have you ever done this?”

“No,” he responds. “Never wanted to do anything like this. Until you.”

“Until you,” I repeat, my finger circling faster. My breathing picks up as I chase my pleasure, and I watch Jacob increase his speed. I’ve never had the desire to do anything like this before. At this moment, I think I’d do just about anything he asked me.

“I wish I was there,” he pants, his voice strangled and thick with lust. “I’d give anything to bury myself inside you, feel you clench as you come apart. God, I fucking miss you.”

“Jacob,” I moan. “How many days until you’re home?”

“Three.”

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“We’re gonna circle back to the fact that you just cussed for the first time in front of me, darlin’, but know that I feel the same way. Just know that I can’t wait to fuck you again. When I get home, wherever you are in our apartment, just know we’re doing it right there. I will not be able to wait one fucking second to be inside you. Gonna live inside you,” he groans, his head falling back against the headboard as his eyes close in bliss. “Are you close, baby? Please tell me you’re there. I need you to come with me.”

“Jacob, I’m coming!” I shout, that last sentence the bit that does me in. He needs me to come with him. I’ve read it in books, and always rolled my eyes at how ridiculous it sounded. But hearing it from Jacob — from my husband — is one hell of an aphrodisiac I didn’t know I needed.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Me too.”

A kaleidoscope of colors bursts behind my eyelids as my back arches from the bed. I let out a guttural moan louder than I think I’ve ever made, and I vaguely hear Thunder whining at the door. In hindsight, I’ll find it humorous that my dog is concerned for my well-being, but right now, I’m too high on a wave of pleasure to care.

Aftershocks wrack my body as I come down from my orgasm, and I slow my finger to a halt. Opening one eye, I find Jacob in a similar mental space, a blissed out expression on his face as he catches his breath.

“I forgot to watch,” I admit with a breathy giggle.

Jacob laughs. “I guess I did too. My eyes closed of their own volition. I’m not even sure if we were talking at all. Did I say anything interesting?”

“Yes. You promised me you’d buy me a car for every month of the year,” I reply with a smile.

“Sounds about right. Done. All the same color, or an ombré rainbow?”

“Surprise me.”

“Be careful what you wish for, darlin’. I think I’m gonna enjoy spoiling you.”

Suddenly nervous, I backtrack. “I was just kidding. You know I don’t need anything like that, right? I don’t need to be spoiled. You shouldn’t buy me anything, actually. That really muddies the waters, and I don’t want you to think I’m only married to you for your bank account, because that’s a really despicable thing, and I know there are tons of wives out there that do that kind of thing, but I’m not one of them. Actually, I should probably give you some money for rent? Or groceries? Something? This isn’t an even exchange, and I want to do my part —”

“Woah,” Jacob shouts, interrupting my spiral. “Relax, Becca. If I buy you anything, it’s because I want to, not because I think you expect it. I know you aren’t in this for my bank account. You’re probably the least money-hungry person I’ve met in Denver, which is why I love you. And there are tons of wives that absolutely get with hockey players for the money. I’d never lump you in the same category as them. I will not, however, be taking rent or grocery money from you, so get those thoughts out of that pretty little brain of yours. You’re still paying rent on your apartment. You do not need to pay anything on mine. It isn’t about an even exchange. It’s about me wanting to provide for you, keeping you safe, and watching you be happy. You bring me so much fucking peace, baby. You can’t put a price tag on that.”

Stupefied, I stare at him in complete shock.

Did he mean to say all that?

Does he realize he said he loves me?