Page 114 of The Aster Valley Collection, Vol. 1

MIKEY

It hadn’t been easy setting this up, but if there was one good thing about having pro-ballers in the family, it was being able to to pull strings at a high level.

The Cardinals hadn’t even blinked at adding me to the sideline crew once my brother had called in a favor with his agent.

As much as I’d grown to hate the NFL before meeting Tiller, it was actually nice being back at a game now that there were absolutely no stakes involved.

No angry or elated father depending on the result.

No eggshell-walking mother. No expectations to be or act a certain way.

And pretending to be a naive water boy while discreetly flaunting my assets at my increasingly horny husband in a situation where he could do absolutely nothing about it was intoxicating.

After the game was over, I quickly disappeared from Tiller’s view, helping the other water folk clean up and put things away down in the equipment rooms. Once I was able to leave, I wandered into the locker room and scoped out the players on display.

There’d been a time when I was both exhilarated and terrified in the team locker room, but today, I was mostly exhilarated.

Having a pro football player as a husband gave a smaller guy like me confidence.

I knew from experience that Tiller Raine would burn the fucking world down before letting anyone harm a hair on my head, and so would most of his friends.

Someone nudged me and pointed to the row of lockers to the far right. “Your man’s over that way.”

I turned to thank the guy, recognizing a grinning George Mims who used to play for the Bengals with my brother. “Thanks, G,” I said, fist-bumping him. “I came to surprise him.”

“It his birthday or something?”

I thought about playing out one of my husband’s forbidden fantasies. “It might as well be,” I said distractedly before hot-footing it toward Tiller’s locker where I saw he was currently peeling off his wet shirt, revealing one of the world’s sexiest chests.

He was busy laughing with a player sitting on a nearby bench as he tossed his shirt into his locker and leaned over to grab a clean towel off the top shelf of the locker.

He shucked off his pants and wrapped the towel around his waist before reaching under to pull off his boxer-briefs.

I was irrationally grateful he hadn’t bared his nuts and bolts to all and sundry.

I kept my distance until he disappeared into the locker room and then I made a beeline after him. Thankfully, the players had already finished showering. I knew from previous conversations that Tiller wouldn’t shower until he was sure the players had gotten first dibs on the stalls.

While Tiller’s fantasy may have included having sex in a group shower situation—I wasn’t sure, to be honest, because the minute he’d mentioned sex in an NFL shower room, the blood supply to my brain had completely cut off, I was grateful the Cardinals’ locker rooms had individual stalls.

There was fantasy role play and then there was public scandal. One was fun while the other was not something either of us wanted any part of.

I snuck into the stall behind him and shut the door quietly. Tiller wasn’t stupid. After turning on the strong spray, he turned around and affected confusion.

“Boy, I think you’re in the wrong stall.” He spoke in a low voice, well-covered by the noise of the rushing water.

I held my fingers up to my mouth nervously. “Mr. Raine, sir? I… I was wondering if you… well, that is…” I stopped and swallowed. “I know I was pretty nervous out there today, and…”

Tiller was having trouble keeping a straight face. “And?”

“And I’m awfully sorry for messing up and getting you all wet earlier. I didn’t mean to make you angry.” I pulled my hands away from my mouth and began to wring them. “And I just wondered if… if there was any way I could make it up to you. Sir.”

He bit his lip, eyes flaring with heat. “You want to make it up to me, sweetheart?”

I nodded vigorously. “I’ll do anything you want. Anything .”

He pretended to consider my offer, raking his eyes up and down my body as if touching me with skating fingertips. My dick swelled in response to his look.

“Get on your knees for me.”

I sucked in a breath. “L-like…” I pretended to look around to make sure no one else could see or hear us before lowering my voice. “You mean like suck your…?”

“Knees. Now.”

His deep voice was commanding yet carried a familiar tenderness he couldn’t hide. “Yes, sir,” I breathed before starting to kneel.

Tiller reached out to grasp my chin. “Wait. First I want you to strip down. Take off all your clothes.”

I blinked at him. “You want me… naked?”

He crossed his arms in front of his wide chest. “I don’t have all day, water boy.”

I quickly toed my shoes off and shucked my clothes, tossing them onto the nearby hooks before standing in front of him nervously again. “This okay?”

The assessing look took twice as long this time. “Depends. Show me what you can do with that mouth of yours.”

He stepped backward into the warm spray and crooked his finger at me. “C’mere, kid.”

I stepped forward and dropped to my knees, trying my hardest to continue feigning virginal nerves when all I wanted to do was swallow my husband’s cock.

Within moments, I was sucking his dick hungrily while his fingers twisted in my hair. “Like that,” he grunted. “Take it, boy. Suck my cock. Just like that.”

My own dick strained up, and I reached down to stroke it.

His hand flicked mine away. “No.”

It was clear he wanted to edge me as punishment for putting one over on him, or as a reward for doing it well.

I put my hands behind my back and continued to impale my throat on his cock until he yanked me off. “Stand up. Hands on the wall. I’m taking your ass, and you’re going to let me.”

Before I was fully upright, his lubed fingers breached my hole, shocking me into a gasp.

Tiller’s voice murmured sweetly against the back of my ear. “You’re lucky I had lube in my bag from last night’s phone sex.”

I smiled to myself before bracing my hands on the shower tile and pushing my ass back at him.

“I’ve never had a… a… penis in my bottom before,” I stammered, holding back laughter from the sheer joy of being here with him, of feeling my husband’s hands on me.

Of teasing him and seeing him enjoy himself after a stressful few weeks.

Tiller lined up the head of his cock and began stretching me with it. His lips returned to nibble at my ear and throat. “How does that feel, sweetheart? You like that? You like getting fucked in the locker room showers by a big strong football player?”

“Yes,” I groaned as he nailed me just the right way. “Fuck yes.”

“You gonna be a good boy and take my cock like this?”

I couldn’t pretend anymore. I needed him too much. “Tiller. Please.”

“That’s Coach to you, boy,” he teased.

I let out a laugh. “Never in a fucking million years.”

He pounded into me, clutching my shoulder with one hand and reaching around to stroke my dick with the other. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” His voice was growly with need.

I reached down to feel his hand as it jacked me. His thick cock spread me wide open and the hot water streamed all over every inch of our skin.

“Enough to fuck the water boy in the Cardinal s’ team locker room?” I gasped.

“Enough to make love to my fucking husband wherever and whenever I fucking can.”

My orgasm slammed into me, nearly causing me to slip down to the floor. But Tiller’s strong arms kept me upright, kept me pinned in place as he thrust his release deep inside of me.

I reached back to palm his wet head and turned my face to press a kiss against his cheek. “I missed you,” I admitted into his skin. “I love you so much.”

The low rumble of his laughter surprised me. “Why are you laughing?” I asked, wondering if I should be offended.

“I was just remembering one of your fantasies...”

I wracked my brain to think of what I would have confessed to him other than the standard shit we’d already done at home.

“You’ve already fulfilled them all,” I said, firmly believing it.

“If I recall, it was specifically set in Arizona after I came running off the field. Seems like we missed an opportunity.”

I shook my head. “I still don’t know…”

“Maybe Ty Kenner could jog your memory. I believe he had a starring role in this particular fantasy.” The fake-jealous growl in his voice reminded me what he was talking about.

Memories from my fantasy confession slithered through my mind.

Then I started to fantasize about what it would be like to wait for you in the tunnel like a groupie. Have you come running off the field in your sweaty uniform and shove me against the cool tunnel wall.

You fucked me face-first into the cement bricks and then told me if I wasn’t completely silent you’d let your teammates take a turn with me, too.

I sucked in a breath. “You wouldn’t dare,” I said.

“I dunno. As your husband, it’s my job to make sure you’re perfectly satisfied, baby. Maybe that world-class ass is wasted being used by just one man. Maybe you need… more..”

I rolled my eyes and stepped around him and reached for the soap, scrubbing myself off quickly before stealing his towel to dry myself. “Be careful what you wish for, Raine. If you keep threatening me with a good time–.”

Tiller’s arms banded around me as he dragged me back under the water, towel and all.

“As if I’d ever share you,” he said, turning me around to slam his mouth on mine possessively. “Fantasize as much as you want. You know I love to hear about them. But you’re mine, Mikey Raine.”

This worked absolutely perfectly for me, since the hottest fantasy of all was having Tiller as my best friend, my husband, and my lover… and I got to live that fantasy every single day.

I leaned up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to Tiller’s, losing myself in the kisses as one turned into another turned into another and the water finally ran cold.