Page 22

Chapter Twenty-One

GREYSON

How I ever settled for getting three to four mediocre hours of sleep and needing at least three cups of coffee is mind-blowing. Falling asleep and waking up next to Stella is apparently all it took to remind my body what it’s like to get a full night’s rest. Even on the nights when we stay up later than we should because we’re busy spending time with each other, I still wake up feeling refreshed.

It’s been a few weeks since our holiday getaway and I’ve barely left her place since. The only times I’ve stayed at my condo have been when there are late games or if we get back into town from an away game in the middle of the night. Other than that, every second of my free time is spent with Stella and Harper.

Dominik was right. Even I can tell how drastically I’ve changed over the past four and a half months.

It’s almost as if I hit a pause button when Stella left all those years ago, and while my body kept aging and changing, I never thought to hit play. Now that I’m getting a taste for life again, I never want it to end.

Reaching blindly, I grab my phone off the nightstand and check the time. My alarm hasn’t gone off, and the faint glow coming from behind the curtains tells me the sun is just beginning to rise. Confirming my suspicion, I smile when I see we still have another hour to lie in bed before I need to get up. There’s no doubt that my subconscious woke me up. The excitement and nerves for today have been building up all week.

Stella and Harper are coming to my game this afternoon.

Wrapping an arm around Stella’s waist as she sleeps beside me, I carefully tug her closer. She doesn’t even flinch. I swear it’s like she has two sleep settings. One for if she’s alone and needs to be up with Harper. Those mornings that I’m not here, she sends picture updates, showing me that she can be up and moving immediately. The second option has only started since our vacation. And that setting makes it so Stella would sleep through anything.

The fact that she’s been able to rest and relax when I’m around fills me with a great amount of satisfaction. I like that she trusts me with our daughter so that she can get the sleep she deserves.

Stella was made to be my own perfect temptress. Everything about her draws me in, like she’s a beacon of light meant for only me.

The strap of her sleep shirt shifted at some point, baring the smooth skin of her neck to me, and I immediately place a kiss there. Ever since we had sex in her entryway before vacation, keeping our hands off each other has been damn near impossible.

She moves then, lazily wiggling her butt against my morning wood, and I grin against her shoulder. Stella might love sleep, but her body reacts to my presence just as quickly as mine does for her. Maybe she won’t sleep through anything . Gripping her hip, I hold her against me and kiss behind her ear, grateful the silk bonnet she sleeps in provides me with access to the sensitive spot. She shivers, turning her head and sleepily batting her eyes open to look at me.

“What time is it?” she asks groggily.

“Early,” I tell her vaguely, kissing her temple as I tease my fingers over the waistband of her shorts.

“Mmm, I should get a head start on breakfast since I’m up,” she whispers, eyes fluttering shut, but her body says otherwise. Her thighs part, one leg tangling back over my thigh, and I take that as an invite to move my hands lower.

“I already have breakfast plans,” I tell her.

Her eyes snap open, and she tries to blink away the sleep haze.

“You do?”

With a smirk, I move quickly and roll her onto her back so I can hover above her. Her top gets caught as she flops onto her back, barely containing one of her breasts. I bend down, kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh before working my way lower. I push her shirt up, exposing her stomach so I can pay attention to her beautiful marks as my hands find her shorts and start working them off. The fact that she now sleeps commando is by far the hottest thing I’ve learned about her.

Stella throws her head back against the pillow, lifting her hips and giving me better access to rid her of her pajamas.

“Where are you going for breakfast?” Stella asks breathlessly.

I lie down on my stomach between her spread thighs and lick my lips at the sight of her pussy.

“I’m already there,” I tell her. Not giving her a second to respond, my tongue darts out to taste her. Stella gasps, her hands clutching the sheets, and I dive in.

My tongue thrusts into her dripping entrance, desperate for more of her. Her moans fuel me on, going straight to my painfully hard cock, but I ignore it. All I want is to feast on her, to draw out those beautiful noises I love so much and feel her fall apart on my tongue.

If I could wake up and be between her thighs every morning, I’d be the happiest man alive.

Stella’s fingers tangle into my hair and she holds me in place as if I’d even consider moving. I wrap a hand under one of her legs and twine it around her hip to hold her down. Using my other hand, I find her clit and start massaging in circles over the sensitive bud. I fuck her with my tongue, loving the way she shakes above me and pants my name.

Her nails bite into my skull. I pick up my pace.

She tries to say something, but her words are cut off by her orgasm. Stella comes and I catch every drop of her release, slowing my movements as she rides through her orgasm. When she finally releases my hair and relaxes back into the mattress, I kiss the inside of her thigh before letting it go.

Stella looks down at me, a tired smile stretching across her face. Crawling up the length of her body, I hover above her and grin.

“Absolute best game day breakfast.”

She laughs, reaching out to pull me in for a kiss.

“I’m sure we can arrange that for most game days.”

The not-so-quiet giggles coming from the stairs pull my attention from the dishes I’m loading in the dishwasher. I can’t quite make out what either of them is saying, but it’s easy to tell that the girls are scheming.

By the time Stella and I made it out of bed this morning, Harper was just waking up. We spent the morning at the park down the street before needing to come back for lunch. The rest of the early afternoon was spent explaining to Harper why she couldn’t go to the arena four hours early. When Stella finally told her they could get ready, I thought Harper was going to jump out of her skin from excitement.

They went upstairs almost an hour ago to get ready for the game and I’ve been keeping busy with anything I can get my hands on. From tidying up some of Harper’s toys, switching the loads of laundry, and now dishes. Nothing seems to fully help calm the nerves for tonight’s game.

It’s not the actual match itself that has me on edge. Tonight is the first time Stella will be at one without a contract forcing her to be there. This time, she’s coming because she wants to. And she’s bringing Harper.

Stella told me that Harper had so much fun watching me on TV and that she’s been begging for Stella to bring her to a game. Neither of us thinks she actually understands what’s going on, but if she’s having a good time, I will make sure she has a seat at every game she wants to see.

“Daddy, close your eyes!” Harper yells out and I smile.

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to her calling me that. Each time she does, my heart malfunctions and misses a beat.

Turning the water off, I dry my hands on a dish rag and do as I’m told.

“Okay, they’re closed,” I call out. Turning my back to the sink, I place a hand on the counter and use it to guide me to the end so I’m facing the living room.

“No peeking!” Harper warns.

“I wouldn’t dare,” I promise, squeezing my eyes tighter to prove my point.

I listen as Harper directs Stella on where to stand and something about Marshmallow needing to see too.

“Okay, open!” Harper finally says and when I spot them, I’m pretty sure my heart works its way to my throat.

They’re both facing away from me, Harper looking over her shoulder with a cheesy grin. They both have their hair pulled back in matching braids with gold ribbons woven into them, but that’s not what holds my attention. It feels as if I’m stuck in this moment, staring at the matching red-and-gold jerseys they both have on. The number seventeen and my last name are spread across their backs.

My jersey.

“Mama got them,” Harper explains. She grabs Stella’s arm and pulls her closer while pointing at my number. “It’s you!”

It’s an effort to swallow back the emotions that bubble up.

I bend down, scooping Harper up and reveling in the laughter that follows before facing Stella.

She’s smiling, but I see the hesitation lingering in the corners of her eyes. I wrap my free arm around her waist and tug her closer.

“You both look beautiful,” I tell them, hoping Stella can see just how much it means to me to see them both wearing these jerseys.

Harper leans away, smoothing out the front of her jersey.

“I want one of these,” she claims, pointing to the bobcat logo on the front. I laugh and poke her belly.

“You’ll have to settle for a stuffed one, baby girl. Bobcats are definitely not house pets.”

Stella laughs, dropping her head to my shoulder as we listen to Harper explain why she thinks she could tame a bobcat.

With my girls in my arms, the unnecessary nerves I had for tonight’s game finally begin to fade.