Page 29
About 5 months later…
Arden
I let my tongue lazily trace the lettering of his glacies bellator tattoo while scorching hot water rushes the stretch of my spine and ass that’s being roughly grappled and bounced along the entire length of Tanner’s cock.
Henrikhavemercy… how the fuck are we supposed to ever finish house renovations if we’re rushing off to bang after each room we successfully paint?!
Never had this much shower sex in my life.
“ Such a fucking beauty, babe, ” groans my fiancé against the ear that once housed an aid yet no longer has to. “ Especially when you’re this wet. ”
Whether that’s in reference to my entire body or just my pussy is unknown.
And unneeded to know given the way my slippery muscles clamp down in approval.
Greedily swell and soak his shaft as he fervidly pounds deeper.
Faster.
Frenziedly fucks like he’s desperately racing against the penalty clock, determined to get a shorthanded goal.
Scraping my nails upward into his scalp not only steals a delicious, dark hiss from his parted lips, it spurs him to tighten his hold.
Slam into me harder.
Shoot to the tips of his toes to ensure his full force is felt on every stroke.
The uncontrollable need to moan his name sends my mouth tumbling off his skin. “ T…Ta… ”
“ You can do it, Slayer, ” he purrs, balls spanking my backside the way he wishes his fingers could. “ Say my bloody name. ”
Clutching onto his wet locks for stability precedes my head dropping backward on a louder, more intense attempt, “ T…Tan… ”
“ God, you look perfect on my cock, ” he praises alongside more feral jerking. “Ice it. ” The salacious instruction encourages my hips to sway into his rabid bucking. “ Fucking snow me. ” Water continues flowing down my bouncing tits, splashing droplets around the enclosed space. “ Bloody cover me, snipe. ”
It’s impossible to stop my sopping muscles from tightening.
Thrumming.
Swearing their allegiance on every sharp thrust.
“ Scream my bloody name ,” Tanner possessively commands, panting and puffing and pounding, completely unhinged. “ Scream my bloody name and come on my cock. ” His middle fingers curl slightly inward to guarantee they’re brushing against my back hole. “ Give me my goddamn gino, Slayer. ” Adding pressure is attached to proclaiming. “ We both know I’ve fucking earned it. ”
Despite every spiteful instinct inside of me that’s insisting we continue to resist, fight the good fight, be the stubborn pest he fell for and keeps falling for, I can’t refrain from succumbing to the blissful pumping that’s continuously caressing my clit and the heavenly nudging being matched on the opposite end and the heat from the water that’s salaciously suffocating me like it’s his palm around my throat.
Even if I wanted to hold out for another five minutes or – fuck – five seconds, I couldn’t.
Grinding into his controlled yet frantic diving, kicking my ankles into his tensed thighs, yanking his head backward while he does his best to keep it forward, to keep his attention plastered on me, leads to a body shaking orgasm I swear I’m going break a bone from.
“ Tannnnnerrrrr! ” leaves once and then twice and a third time, each screech louder, more intense than the next. The rattling sounds of the glass door caused by my screaming simply emboldens them to become wilder. Rowdier. Almost deafening. “ Tannnneeeerrrrrr! ”
“ Fucking, take it, Slayer, ” growls the love of my life at the same time the first blistering burst splashes against my quivering muscles. “ It’s all bloody yours. ” Fiery wave after wave spills past my insatiable lower lips until it can be felt spewing itself onto my trembling thighs. “ Only. Yours. ”
At that announcement, my face springs back upward to pounce his lips in a way I’m grateful I get to do in private and in public now.
I never pictured myself being one of those broadskies that like needed to publicly have her tongue in her boyfriend – er – fiancé’s mouth and to be fair I’m not one.
I’m just also… not not one.
As soon as we were allowed to become public, we did.
Like day of surgery, in the waiting room of the hospital, we posted a photo of us together showing off my ring, type of did.
My parents were, of course, first in person to confront us about it that night when they brought over dinner.
Dad knew it was coming since Tanner actually asked for his blessing, knowing how close we are.
Mom was excitedly blindsided to the point I was thankful my ear was in recovery meaning she had to keep her girlish squeals primarily inside so as not to hinder the healing process.
I ignored calls along with the scathing texts for the split egg.
We video conferenced his parents who too were not at all surprised.
Day two of engagement?
Tanner was on his own.
Post op hit me harder then and simply getting out of bed to piss was a nightmare.
Bear and Tanner both hovered and cuddled all day, bonding while I mostly slept. During those sessions, he also told the boys – although Becks and Pecks already knew it was happening – told the bosses – Hennington fussed about paperwork – told his agent – who mentioned the word prenup – and then the media who were at that point all vying to be the first to report about the situation.
Some things noticeably shifted after that point.
Some didn’t.
For instance, Tanner was still invited out for shenaniganskies, but so was I.
Whether they were going to the ballet or just to swing golf clubs, I was given a pass to tag along, like I was one of the boys, proving that despite our change in status I am still one of the boys.
No one holds their tongue – or their farts – around me.
They still talk tit sizes and testicle smells.
They’ve even upped their pranks, although when I figured out they worked with the Slayers to cover my jeep in pink silly string and diamond ring balloons my first day back, I only punished them.
Swapping out rego pracky sweaters so they all had to play in hot pink bride squad crop tops was something that had Hot Rocket laughing until she cried, commanding I take footage of it for soc’.
While they didn’t love the very expensive prank, fans did.
And seeing the consanguinity during the playoff run seemed to add to our momentum along with our ticket sales.
The only major differences that occurred were that Tanner didn’t have to feel guilty for staying in rather than going out when they were on the roadskies – especially during the stretch I couldn’t travel because of my ear – and that I could openly do the cutesy things Slayers get to do.
Like wearing my jersey.
Hoodie.
Our custom designed player kicks.
And of course, the standard kiss for luckskies that never fails to trend during battle season of The Cup.
The Cup which we lost.
Again.
Losing one player to LITR because of a blood clot in his shoulder and two more to IR because of a puck to the eye nearly blinding one and a body check dislocating the other’s hip, we knew early on we weren’t going to make it to the finish line.
But it didn’t stop the boys from showing up.
Or playing until they were literally falling apart.
Or fans from screaming with all they had which was such a magical experience to capture that I’m sad I don’t get to continue on capturing it next season.
Our new camera hire, Marvin Falhaber, has thankfully been so easy to work with that the transition has been rather seamless, and even more gratefully, my replacement , Romella Pascual, has been even easier.
Quite possibly because she’s so much like me.
Which was certainly one of her interview selling points…a lot like her hatred for Ramirez.
We get along fucking great, the boys like her well enough to give her the respect that’s due, and I don’t feel like I’m completely abandoning them to change departments.
Then again, I’m not just changing departments.
I’m going to be helping run one.
It’ll be weird not following Tanner around like his shadow, but I think we’ll be okay.
I’ll still be on the roadskies with them enough while getting our broadcasting department officially off the ground so there will be plenty of time to adjust.
Plus, LMC is in negotiations for steady local advertising for each main city location as part of a broader community building tactic, so whether its with Dalvegan or my family’s company, I can pretty much be anywhere he is, if I want to.
Downside to that is due to the success we had this past season, the womb ruiner, solidified her voice in brand consulting, meaning she could potentially be there too.
Interestingly enough, I haven’t seen much of her since we did the big VIP winner reveal shortly after my return to the barn.
Not even at family brunches unless Tanner isn’t with me.
Can’t say I hate it.
Our tongues obsessively tangle, twirling faster and faster, turning up our lower halves to the frenzied state we should be trying to steer away from in our cooling down process.
We need to eat!
Foodskies!
Real foodskies!
Protein smoothies during the off season should not be a thing I’m forced to consume!
Besides, he’s been promising me wings all day as a reward for not chirping him about his anal-retentive painting preferences.
Like bud.
Get bent.
It’s just a roller.
Not a 3P you need all season.
Aggressive, incessant barking suddenly begins in the bathroom, forcing us to part and redirect our attention to our clearly very pissed off pup.
“ Seriously ?” whines Tanner while transitioning to more tender touches. “You cannot possibly need to go out already. You were just there.”
His woofs grow in numbers, although it’s hard to say if he’s arguing, or insisting on something else.
“Bear,” Hamster Boy sighs in annoyance, “you-”
The doorbell ringing amplifies his barking indicating that that’s what he was trying to tell us.
“Alright, alright,” murmurs the man I’m Spartan burn down the world in love with prior to turning off the water, “we understand now.” One final, sassy snuff is delivered before he victoriously stomps out of the room prompting Tanner to investigate, “Is it just me or has he been a tad grumpier lately?”
My wet figure easily slides off his, back to the ground. “You would be too if the dude your mom is bangin’-”
“ Engaged to. ”
“-suddenly moved all his strange shit in-”
“It is not strange.”
“-and kept covering the places you like to sleep with plastic-”
“Tarps.”
“-and spilling horrible smelling wet liquid into buckets-”
“Paint.”
“-that you’re not allowed to touch because the one time you did your mom yelled at you with her whole chest while giving you a bath-”
“Are these updates why he’s cranky or why you are?”
Shooting him a playful smirk is attached to backing out of the walk in.
I don’t really hate any of it.
It’s an oddly fun thing to do while Gladiator plays in the background.
Plus, for the first time since I’ve lived here, the place feels more like a home than just somewhere I crash.
Ugh.
He’s turning me into a girly broadskie.
It’s so gross.
Post quickly throwing on one of Tanner’s old jerseys and him a pair of workout shorts, the two of us follow Bear to the front door where he is steadily griping about someone being on our doorstep.
The instant we realize who it is we state in tandem, “ Banco. ”
Bear plops his ass on the floor beside my feet but continues to hold his large torso in a protective position.
Becks barely waits for the blockade to finish opening before grumbling, “This is gonna be a long week together, aye, pup?”
Confusion has me and my other half crinkling our foreheads in tandem, yet it’s him who speaks, “ What? ”
“You’re gonna be gone a full week, right?” Beck casually shoves his hands into his pockets. “Starting tomorrow.”
“ Next Thursday,” sighs Tanner at the same time he opens the door to usher the guy who now rents his old apartment into our house. “You are an entire seven days too early.”
“Shit,” mumbles the guy I’m so glad has stayed sober during his entrance, “my bad.” Once the door is shut behind him, he shrugs off the mistake. “I’m here. You two wanna order wings?”
Light laughs leave me as he gives a warm rub to Bear’s head. “When don’t we?”
“You think you’ll have them at your wedding?”
“We do not even bloody know when we’re having a wedding,” gripes his best friend, “let alone what we will be serving.”
The three of us head towards the living room that was painted the previous week. “Wait, you two still haven’t picked a date but are going to look at venues in another country?”
“Concert,” I correct on a shake of the head. “We’re going to see Shakira, a bit of the country, and visit his adorable old gran who happens to think I should’ve gotten a bigger ring, by the way.”
“And to eat pepperoncini wings,” Tanner adds during our flop onto the couch that used to be in his apartment, as opposed to the one I had when I lived alone.
It wasn’t uncomfortable.
It just wasn’t as comfortable as this one, which is basically like sleeping on a giant pillow.
“Mmm…undecided there,” creeps out of me after Bear joins us forcing Becks onto the other piece of empty furniture.
“We are having those wings, Ducky.”
“We are not not having them, Hamster Boy.”
The eye roll that leaves him gets us all chuckling.
Of course, I totally plan to try them – come on, it’s wings – but I gotta give him shit first.
It’s in my nature.
“And we really should pick a date.” He extends an arm around the back of the sofa while my feet stretch out into this lap. “That’s not during the season.”
“Yeah, every hockey fiancée, pretty much has to have a fucking summer wedding.”
“Or when the season ends if leur équipe est nulle .”
“Thankfully, the Dragons don’t suck ,” I sassily sneer, “meaning we have to get married over the summer.”
“But not the week of training camp,” Tanner points out.
“Or the team outing event,” I remind.
“Or the annual family skate.”
“Or when Cap got married.”
“Or on his birthday.”
“This sounds way harder than picking a place to get wings from,” Becks interjects while retrieving his cell. “Maybe you two agree on that first and then move onto harder shit like a date or place or cake flavor.”
“ Wing Warriors ,” we answer in tandem, bearing matching grins.
“See,” our most frequent houseguest teases, “ you can do it. ”
Of course we can.
Not doing it is just our pregame style for most life situations, especially the major ones.
And as our game of life continues to change, I get the feeling so will our ritchies.
Which I don’t mind.
Being on the same team with Tanner Frosky – for work, for love, for food – definitely beats not being on one with him at all.
***
Thank you for reading The Stud (Dalvegan Dragons #3) ! I hope you loved this pro-hockey, off-limits forced proximity romance!