Page 17

CHAPTER 16

GUNNAR

“Holy shit, you’re Gunnar Stag from the Fury.” Our driver is turned around, staring instead of racing up Smallman Street toward my apartment.

I nod, draping an arm around my wife and grabbing a handful of boob when she presses against my side. “I am. And I’d love you to drive me home. Please.” I flash him a grin, and he keeps shaking his head.

“I never got a pro athlete as a fare before. This is so great.”

I drag a hand through my hair, anxious about being stuck here for another hour making small talk, but Emerson steps in to save the situation. She leans forward. “Do you want to give me your phone and I’ll take a quick pic of you two? Really quick before we get moving?”

The guy beams, pulling out his phone and fiddling around in his hurry to unlock the screen. I scoot forward and give a thumbs up as Emerson leans back to get us both in the shot. “Perfect,” she says, handing the driver his phone.

“My kids are never gonna believe this. I should call them right now and tell them Gunnar Stag is in my cab.”

I’m about to leap out and just walk home, but Emerson smiles. “We would be so grateful if you could get us home. Gunnar is exhausted from his win tonight.”

The guys’ brows shoot up. “Yeah! Of course. At your service.” And he gives her a wink before zipping out onto the street.

I kiss her on the cheek, relieved that she soothed the fan without pissing anyone off. Usually, I’m good with this sort of thing, but college hockey fans aren’t nearly as wild as the pros, and I’m in a pretty thick fog of pheromones here with Emerson in a Stag jersey, making sex faces.

The driver continues to talk about hockey, rattling off stats about our team and our upcoming opponents. I could be back here making out, but I know it’s in my best interest to listen. I try to grunt at the appropriate times, and thankfully, the ride is pretty quick. Before I know it, my wife is tugging me out of the back seat and looking like she’s about to pay the driver.

I growl at her as I reach for my wallet and hand the guy a hefty tip before slamming the door and scooping Emerson into my arms. “You know I love opening the door for you, Salty. Were you about to pay that cab driver yourself?”

She grins. “Is that so terrible? You’ve been paying for everything, and I have hardly left the apartment.”

I roll my eyes and pull her close, kissing the top of her head. “The whole reason you’re here is because of me. And it feels better if I’m being good to you.”

“Mmm.” She hums and looks up at me, then bites her lip. I’m not drunk on alcohol, but the rush of hormones flooding through me makes it feel like I’m halfway blitzed on Emerson alone. “You want to be good to me?” She traces shapes on my chest with her fingertip. I nod, palms on her ass now. She has the most perfect ass and I love how it feels cupped in my hands. Her voice is low, barely perceptible. “I looked up the pearl necklace…”

I’m instantly hard, panting at the thought of doing something so dirty, so primal with this woman. “You did?”

She nods. “I think you should give me one.”

I cannot explain how we get to the apartment. I don’t know which of us unlocks the door or slams it shut behind us. All I know is we are splayed across Emerson’s bed because it’s the closest one to the door, and I’m nestled between her thighs with my tongue in her hot little mouth. My dick is so hard I’m worried it will rip through both our pairs of pants. Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad thing because then it would be touching her silky skin.

“Salty, you really want to do that? Do you want me to come all over that pretty neck?” I lick along her throat to illustrate my intentions.

“God, Gunnar, yes. Please. I want to see you come.” Her legs wrap around me, insistent, pulling me against her center where she’s hot and soft. I can’t believe she wants me to be a jeweler for her.

“I gotta get you there first, Salty. I’m going to eat that perfect pussy again until you’re screaming my name. But then you have to tell me if you want to drop to your knees on the floor for me or if you want me to fuck your tits until I make a mess of you in this bed.”

The words falling out of my mouth are obscene, but it seems to drive Emerson wild because the more I talk, the more she moans and rubs herself against the hard ridge in my pants. Her hands move to my waist, fumbling with snaps and zippers. I pull back from her just enough to rip her clothes off, and I grunt appreciatively when I see her naked.

“You are so incredible, Emerson. God, look at you. Just look at you.” I drag my palms down her nipples, and she moans. I nip at the skin of her rounded belly, nudge at her thighs with my nose.

“I want you naked, Gunnar. I want to feel you.” Her eyes flash in the dim light as she grabs at my shirt and tugs. I let her pull it off over my head before I dive back down to get my mouth on hers. She rips open my pants and grabs my cock while biting my lip and I realize I’ve somehow unlocked a wild, horny layer of Emerson’s personality.

“Salty,” I whisper against her mouth. “You’re desperate for it.”

She nods. “You make me this way. I keep thinking about you doing those stretches on the ice.”

I laugh. “You like when I stretch?” I pinch her nipple as she sucks in a breath.

I decide to get down to business and kick my way out of my pants, pushing her thighs wide enough for me to lick and suck and slide a finger inside until Emerson is pulsing and shrieking. In minutes, her hands drop to my hair and she holds me against her center while I fuck her with one hand and lap at her clit. She comes loud and long, and I lap up every single moan. “Mmm,” I whisper. “You did need it bad, Salty.”

Her hands flop to the mattress as I kneel above her, giving my dick a tug while I try to decide what comes next. “Are you ready for this? Because we don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”

Emerson’s gaze snaps to mine. “We’re doing it.”

My mouth hooks to the side in a grin, and I look around her room. I spy a row of cosmetics on the dresser. “Go get your lotion,” I command, and I almost come in my hand when she obeys, climbing out of bed to grab a small container and scurrying back while she opens it.

I lick my lips and continue casually pumping my wood. She scoops out a handful of lotion, fragrant and fresh smelling. “Can I rub it on you?” She looks up at me hopefully, as if I might deny her this request.

“God, yes.” I rock back onto my heels as she sits in front of me, both hands working the lotion into my shaft. She circles my tip with her thumb, concentrating on her work with the same expression I’ve seen her wear when she’s making music. “So good,” I sputter. “You feel so perfect.”

“Really?” She smiles then, enjoying the praise, and I know this won’t take much longer.

“Lie back,” I growl. My voice is low. “Press your boobs together.”

Emerson’s face is indescribable as she settles on her pillow, hair a mess, peachy nipples hard and pointed at the ceiling. Her palms cup the sides of her boobs and press, leaving a heavenly channel for me to slide inside. When I do, we both groan. I might die from the pleasure of seeing my dick disappear in between her boobs, but when I thrust forward and the tip pokes out, she sticks out her tongue and laps at the crown of my cock.

I pull back, shocked into ecstasy, and my hips start rocking without my knowledge until I’m driving into her, grunting. We both moan when she licks the tip of me again, and I dig my hands into the headboard as I come, giving her the hot ropes of my release like she asked for. Emerson screams my name and pants with each splash hitting her skin.

My breath is ragged and hopeless, and I am wrecked when I collapse beside her. But she moans in pleasure, writhing around on the bed. One hand traces the mess I left on her chest, and the other dips between her legs. “Gunnar, that was so, so sexy. Holy cow, I need…I need…”

“Ugh.” I see that my wife needs me again, needs to come after seeing me lose myself like that. I join my hand to hers at the top of her thighs. She rubs at her clit while I slide a finger inside her and together, we pull her over the edge.

I should get up and get her a washcloth, clean her up, get her clean again. But I pass the fuck out with her chanting my name as she drifts off to sleep, marked by our shared desire.