thirty-five

GRIFFIN

With my naked wife curled up against my chest, our bedroom filled with the scent of sex and my balls utterly empty, I couldn’t be happier.

Well, I guess I could be happier if everyone already knew we’re married, but we’ll get there.

She’s done fighting this, thank the hockey gods.

Now all we need to do is figure out when we can host a party to tell everyone and what last name we’re going to use.

She thinks I’m kidding about taking her last name, but I’m not. If that’s what would make my wife happy, that’s what we’ll do. Or maybe we could hyphenate them. Griffin Graves-Wright doesn’t have quite the same ring to it as Griffin Wright, but it’s not terrible.

“What are you thinking about?” Mira draws little hearts and circles on my bare, sweaty chest while she rests her head on my shoulder.

“A couple of things.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

I kiss her forehead. “Like when we can plan the party to tell everyone we’re married. Think we could pull that off next weekend? The weekend after that, we have an away series, then we’ll be in Michigan for your meeting with the University of Michigan.”

As Mira’s soft chuckle vibrates through my body, my tired dick stirs.

Relentless fucker. I ignore him, because as much as I’d love to sink into my wife again, this is more important.

This is our future we’re talking about, and the sooner we can get this figured out, the sooner I can tell the world that Mira Graves is all mine and I am hers.

“I think next weekend is a little too quick. We’ll have to figure out food…”

“I’ll find a caterer.” With enough money, I’m sure I could find someone willing to work on a quick turnaround.

“We need to put together a guest list. I don’t want it to be some huge thing, but we need to make sure all the important people are free and able to come. I need a cute dress, and I was thinking…” Mira nibbles on her lower lip as her words taper off.

“You were thinking what, sunshine?”

“Well, if we’re going to tell everyone we’re married, maybe we should get some nicer wedding bands?”

Ah, shit. I should have already thought of that.

Of course, she’ll want to wear something nicer than a gold-plated ring that looks like it came from a toy dispenser at the mall where you put in a dollar and it pops out a jewelry-filled egg.

She’ll want something pretty. She deserves something pretty. And expensive.

She deserves a huge-ass diamond that can be seen from space, so every thirsty fucker on the planet knows her heart belongs to me.

Grinning, my heart feeling like it may explode right out of my chest in a spray of blood and gooey love, I pull Mira’s lips to mine in a searing kiss. “Let’s go right now.”

“It’s one in the morning,” she says, giggling. “They’ll all be closed.”

“That’s stupid.”

She giggles again. “Yep.”

“Fine. We’ll go tomorrow morning. I don’t have to be at the arena until three.” I grab her hand and bring it to my lips. Kissing each slender digit, I let my lips linger on her ring finger.

“Okay. What else were you thinking about?”

“Just trying to figure out what would sound best if you didn’t want to change your last name to Wright.

Griffin Graves sounds cool, I guess. Alliteration is fun.

Might get a little confusing on the ice, but that’s okay.

Graves-Wright sounds better than Wright-Graves, because that sounds like you’re trying to find the plot where your grandma’s buried or some shit and you finally found the right grave. ”

She laughs at that, and I tighten my hold on her. She’s soft and warm, and I love how loose she is when she’s happy and at ease. Like sexy Jell-O.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“No, for now, I’m Wright. Not sure Ridiculous would make a great last name. Though I suppose we don’t have to stick with either of our last names. We could make one up.”

“What?” Her voice shakes with laughter.

“We could combine them. Gright. Or Wraves.”

It’s my turn to laugh when her cute little nose wrinkles. “Those are horrible names. Definitely not.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right. We could just pick something cool, I guess.

What about something badass, like a Greek god’s name or something?

Like Poseidon. Griffin and Mira Poseidon.

” I don’t actually want to change our last names to something stupid like Poseidon, but I do want to make my wife laugh more.

And I definitely succeed. She stares at me with wide eyes for a beat, and then her head tips back and she laughs so loud, it almost hurts my ear.

“No. Absolutely not.”

I shrug. “Yeah, it’s not quite right. But you know what is ?”

“Let me guess. Wright?”

“Bingo.” I lean in and kiss the tip of her nose. She yawns. “But we can figure that all out in the morning. Time for sleep, baby. It’s been a long day, and we’re ring shopping tomorrow. Gonna need our energy.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” My beautiful wife yawns again, and I tug her close enough that she can nestle her face in the crook of my neck, exactly where she belongs. “Night, husband.”

The word lights up every single pleasure center in my brain. “Night, wife.”

Somehow, I untangled myself from Mira’s clinging arms and legs without waking her and, despite the salty scent of bacon mingling with fresh coffee in the kitchen, I’m pretty sure she’s still asleep.

Good. I want to pamper my wife this morning. Breakfast in bed, maybe an orgasm or two, then I’m taking her to the nicest jewelry store I could find. I called, and they were able to fit us in for an appointment later this morning.

It’s surreal. After Maddox said all that shit last night, I never thought this would be how I’d spend the day.

But Mira surprised me. Surprised me with semi-public sex in a parking garage—that was definitely a bucket list item—and by telling me she’s ready to reveal our marriage to our friends and family.

In between frying eggs and bacon, I’ve been looking at photos of engagement rings online.

I had no idea there were so many styles and cuts.

Mira doesn’t know I’m planning to get her a diamond, and I’m not going to tell her, but I’m planning to watch her like a hawk while we’re there.

Women love looking at sparkly jewelry, right?

She’s bound to make googly eyes at something, and when she does, I’ll go back another day and buy it.

The thought makes me giddy. Maybe we went about all of this backward, but I’m going to propose to my wife, and I’m going to do it sooner than later.

I want to give her everything. Just spoil her absolutely rotten. Because I’ve never been as happy as I am with Mira.

After piling two plates, silverware, and coffees on a tray, I carefully carry everything into our room where Mira still sleeps, curled up and naked, in our bed.

Everything about her is perfect. From the dark tangles of hair that fan out around her head in a messy halo, to the way her lips are always parted—just barely open—when she sleeps.

There’s a cluster of freckles on her left shoulder, a few silvery stretch marks adorn her hips and upper thighs from when she must have hit a growth spurt as a teenager, and she’s got the cutest little dimples above her ass cheeks.

She’s perfectly imperfect, and I’m going to spend my life learning every single one of those imperfections.

Unable to keep my hands off her any longer, I set the tray of food on my bedside table and crawl toward her on the bed.

Her eyelids flutter, but she doesn’t wake, so I lean over her, pressing gentle kisses to her shoulders, her arms, her breasts.

Soft little moans slip from her mouth before she’s fully awake and aware, and I decide to ask my wife how she would feel about being awakened by my fingers or my cock in her sweet little pussy one day.

“Rise and shine, baby.” I press a kiss to her belly, then drag my lips to just below her belly button.

Mira sucks in a sharp breath when I drag my tongue down to the top of her mound. “Am I dreaming?”

“I don’t know. Were you dreaming about me kissing all over your perfect body?”

“Mm, no, but I wish I had been.” Green eyes flutter open and focus on me. “Then again, real life kisses are better.”

Her sleepy smile slays me. It’s better than a hit of caffeine, sweeter than the strawberries waiting for us on our plates, and it warms me better than all the coffee in the world ever could. I’m so gone for this woman.

She sniffs as her brain comes back online, and her smile grows when she sees the food and coffee. “Griffin, did you make me breakfast in bed?”

There’s so much pleasure in the question that I vow to make my wife breakfast in bed at least once a month. If something so simple can make her so happy, I’d do it every day just to make her smile.

“Sure did.” I lean two pillows against the headboard for her and give them a pat. “Now, sit your cute, naked ass up so I can feed you.”

“I can’t believe you did this for me.” She pushes herself into a seated position and reclines against the pillows.

I hand her a plate and some silverware and decide I’ll need to buy some lap trays if this is going to be a regular occurrence.

But Mira doesn’t seem to mind eating with the plate in her lap, so I won’t worry about it this time. “It smells amazing.”

“Good. Eat up.”

I don’t start eating until Mira brings the first forkful of fluffy eggs to her lips. Her eyes flutter closed as she chews and she hums her approval.

“So good.”

Not as good as those sexy little sounds she makes when she’s happy. Damn.

“Are we really going wedding ring shopping this morning?” she asks as we eat.

“Hell yeah. And I can’t wait. Do you know how much I’ve wanted to see you walking around with my ring on your finger, wifey?

To know that, even when I’m on the road, any man who sees you will know you’re mine?

” Whether Mira wears my ring is inconsequential in the grand scheme of things.

It’s a little piece of metal. What matters is that she’s mine.

Heart, body, and soul. But I’m a possessive bastard, not to mention hopelessly romantic about shit like this, and it’s killed me having her walk around the Twin Cities with a bare ring finger.

I want her to want to show the world that she’s taken.

And now she does.

“I have to admit, I hated seeing those women throw themselves at you that night at the bar. Maybe if you’d been wearing your wedding band, they would have backed off.” Mira’s cheeks flush as she admits her jealousy, and I grin like an idiot.

“Why do you look embarrassed about that, sunshine? I want you to stake your claim. It’s fucking hot that you were all jealous and possessive. If you had told those women to back off, I may have bent you over that table and taken you right there in front of everyone.”

Mira’s nose wrinkles. “Ew. My brother was there.”

Oops. Yeah, I guess he was. “Okay, well, then I would have thrown you over my shoulder and taken you to a supply closet and fucked you so good that you’d be screaming my name, and every woman in the bar would have known who I belong to.”

“My brother can never hear us have sex, Griffin. I cannot stress enough how much I do not want that ever to happen.”

She looks so utterly disgusted by the idea. It’s hilarious.

She doesn’t think so, though, and when I chuckle, she narrows those pretty green eyes at me. “I’m serious, babe.”

I hold my hands up, palms out, in surrender. “Okay, okay. I won’t bang you when your brother is around. Duly noted. Can I finger you under the table?”

“Griffin,” she shrieks. I laugh and duck when she grabs a pillow and swings it at my head.

Yeah. This right here is everything I’ve been missing. Everything I always hoped for. Breakfast in bed and naked pillow fights with the most beautiful woman on the planet?

Someone pinch me.