Bringing It Home (The King Brothers Book 2)
Page 17
I sigh when she lifts herself away.
“Leaving so soon?” I query.
She turns around and sinks back onto my cock in reverse cowgirl, leaning forward and taking hold of my ankles so I can see every detail of the sexual act before me. “Thought you’d like to see backstage,” she laughs, pushing back against me. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.”
I let her fuck me slowly, grind and ease herself against my cock until I can’t take any more. I rise up from the bed and help her around, bring her lips to mine, my fingers finding her clit and working there in a gentle rhythm.
“How’s that?” I ask, less than an inch from her lips.
Her hand goes to the side of my face, to the stubble I never had time to shave off. “Perfection.”
I come up higher and force her onto her knees, taking hold of her ass and running deep inside her. I leave a spread hand on her lower back, hold her hip with the other and bring her back against me hard, her ass cheeks jiggling with each thrust.
Her fingers grip the edge of the bed, breasts swaying against the duvet below. “Yes, yes, yes,” she bellows, louder now, not that we have any neighbors to worry about up here in the clouds.
I slow down my thrusting, spank her lightly on the left ass cheek and smile when she yelps in surprise. “That was naughty, husband.”
God, she’s wet.
I draw back, my cock slipping out to sit against the tight rosette of her asshole. It’s slick with her need. “Oh? You think that’s naughty?”
She gasps. “You wouldn’t,” she replies, but I hear the excitement in her voice.
“Watch me.”
I ease myself slowly forward, using my thumbs to open up her ass cheeks and spread her hole, let my cock sink slowly inside the tight tunnel of her ass.
“Ho-ly fuck,” she announces, her fingers dragging up more of the duvet, back arching in response.
I go slow, inch by precious inch, but she’s so wet it’s barely a task. Before long my entire shaft is buried deep in the hot glove of her ass.
I reach around her stomach, finding her clit and lightly rubbing it in slow circles with three combined fingers. “How does that feel?”
She pushes back, urging me on. “Good. Really good.”
I pull back and press forward, slowly speeding up, enjoying the new textures of her body.
“Oh, god,” she moans, her voice muffled by the duvet.
I keep circling her clit, running deeper now and starting to fuck her ass properly.
Her cries grow in volume and she starts to jerk against me, skin a deeper scarlet than before, her breathing rushed and labored.
“Yes,” she repeats, a drummed mantra.
My balls are tight, my mouth dry. I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to hold out.
I grit my teeth together and flip us over so I’m on my back with her spread out on top of me. I cover her breasts with my arm, holding her in place while she bucks and jumps, the thick length of my cock still deep in her most taboo area.
I increase the pressure on her clit with her free hand, her legs spread so wide it’s almost unnatural.
“Yes, yes, yes!” she shouts.
I thrust deeper, pull out and run forward knowing I’m seconds away from release.
She stiffens against me and I know she’s about to join me.
She goes to say something, but it’s stifled in her throat. Her ass and pussy pulse as one, and she convulses against my cock as she comes.
I let out a groan and find my own release—a blood-rushing ripple in time that forces me as deep inside her as I can physically manage.
We explode together, a synchronicity I’ve never experienced before. I come over and over and over again, my cock pumping and firing endlessly.
It’s only when I’ve nothing more to give, when I’m so dizzy I think I’m going to pass out, I actually remember to breathe.
She gives a final, stuttered moan, lifting my hand from her clit, her entire body relaxing. I slide out of her ass, my cock continuing to jerk against her thigh.
I like the feeling of her weight on top of me, the reassuring blanket of her body.
“Titus… I… I have no words.”
“We don’t need them,” I pant back. “And we haven’t even started on the missing bucket list items.”
She laughs. “God help me. Is it going to be like that every time?”
I let her slide off me, conform to my side, and place her head against my chest. “Better,” I tell her.
She laughs, breath hot against my chest. “If I come any harder, I’m pretty sure I’m going to die.”
I kiss her, taste the supple flavors of her mouth. “We can’t have that now, can we?”
I break away and look deep into her eyes, could stare at them for an eternity if I could, mapping out every line and shift in color, the mysteries of the world caught inside them. “I love you,” I tell her, and it’s not forced or practiced but perfectly right and true.
She senses it and smiles. “I love you too.”
It’s funny because I’m sure I’ve heard her say it before. It’s that flash of the familiar I can’t seem to shake.
I’m sad I might never remember our first relationship, but I’m determined to do everything in my power to make this one work, to simply have a second chance at happiness, to be a father to our baby and the best god damn husband the world’s ever seen.
Because I may have lost a lot when I took that ball to the head, but it just cleared the way for more memories.
EPILOGUE
ONE YEAR LATER
TITUS
“Titus, you’re up.”
I take up my bat and head to the home plate. Low wind, big crowd—perfect conditions to send this sucker into the stratosphere.
The nerves are gone as I take a warm-up swing. I’m used to this now. It’s just like going to work, another day at the office—when your office is Fenway Park.
My old nemesis Joe Pearson is pitching tonight. His journey hasn’t been too dissimilar to my own. It’s almost nostalgic coming together like this again. But, like me, he’s all business.
He squats, lines me up, and it happens.
A phantom pain right where he clocked me back at Crestfall a year ago, right in the middle of my head. I swing, but I’m way off, the crunch of the ball into the catcher’s mitt behind me signaling a strike.
Fuck.
The pain deepens. I try to force it away, shake it off, but it remains.
The second pitch and it blooms again. I swing, the ball skimming the bottom of the bat but still finding its way to the catcher.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, but nothing is undoing this thing.
Coach is yelling something, but not even his usual buzz saw of a voice can get through to me.
The third pitch, a fastball, and I barely swing.
The ball collides with leather and something is unlocked, a switch flicked in my head.
“You’re out!”
I remember.
I remember everything.
Everything.
The entire world filters away as I head back to the dugout, too much information to process at once flooding into my head now the gates have opened.
I never thought this day would come, and here of all places.
I take a seat and stare at the ground between my feet, the bat I was holding falling from my hand.
It wants to overwhelm me. There’s too much. I can’t.
A cold sweat breaks out, a nervous tremor starting in my head.
“Titus.”
It’s Maya.
I stand and face the gate, see her there with our beautiful baby girl Amelie, the tiny league cap she’s wearing slanted to the side.
The panic falls away, shed at the sight of the two most precious things in the world to me. Everything is suddenly so clear.
I reach for Maya’s hand, stroke the back of it with my thumb, A
melie’s hand’s reaching out for me, for a cuddle. I take her and hold her high on my chest. She plays with my ear, looking into it like a miniature explorer. She’s just like her mother—a brilliant, inquisitive mind.
I look into Maya’s eyes, never want to look away. I see more in them now than ever before. I see us before the accident, the first time we met at Peyton and Erin’s party, our first kiss, our first…
“Titus?” she repeats, sudden concern at the no doubt look of complete stupefaction of my face.
“I remember,” I tell her.
She looks at me quizzically. “What?”
“Everything,” I laugh.
Concern turns into surprise. “From before?”
“Everything,” I repeat. “It came back.”
She rushes forward to hug me, the gate between us, Amelie cooing in delight. “Oh, Titus. Should I call a doctor?”
“No,” I laugh. “Call the others, because there’s going to be one hell of a celebration tonight.”
She’s crying. “I’m so happy. You have no idea.”
I can’t believe it myself. I speak to the soft nook of her neck, a spot I’ve kissed a thousand times before. “I never thought it would happen. It’s so clear, baby.”
She holds my shoulders, tears flowing hot and salty, oblivious to the odd stares around us from the fans, my teammates. “What now?” she asks.
But there’s a bigger question pressing at me. “Did you doubt us before I remembered, did you doubt my love for you?”
’Cause yeah, I can say big boy words like that now without suddenly feeling emasculated. I’ve grown in so many ways since the move.
She smiles and at first, I’m unsure what she’s going to say. Her fingers tighten on my shoulder, even Amelie growing quiet with anticipation. “Baby, this last year has assuaged any doubts I had. I mean, yeah, I’m glad you’ve got your memories back, but you fell in love with me twice. Not many people get to experience that, right?”
“I guess not,” I reply, leaning forward to kiss her, Amelie clapping along keen to be part of this pop-up party.
“Did you hear that, beautiful girl?” I tell her. “Daddy got his memories back.”
She scrunches her face up, babbling away in baby speak. “That’s right,” I laugh, looking to Maya, my love, my everything, “and I’m ready to make a whole lot more.”
###
Thanks for reading, guys. If you enjoyed the book, please leave a short review. Don’t miss Throw Down, the first book in the King Brothers series: http://mybook.to/throwdown
Join my newsletter for a free ebook, giveaways, and more: https://bit.ly/2UpkndO
Follow me on Facebook: https://bit.ly/3803WIY
Ready for more bad boy action? Read Cayden’s story in Top 50 best-seller Long Game, out now: http://mybook.to/longgame
I go long, I go deep, but I never go soft.
They call me ‘The Damage’ because I crush it on the field and off.
I’m all about the offensive penetration. No one knows the game as well as I do.
It doesn’t hurt I’ve got a goal post in my pants.
But the moment I see Indiana’s smoky eyes and tight end, I know I’m in trouble.
No one has a college record that clean, which means she’s either hiding something or running from something, and I intend to get the bottom of all her dirty little secrets.
Even if I have to tease it out of those sweet curves.
Even if she’s playing hard to get.
Because I can go the distance.
Because I always score.
Because I’m in this for the long game.
Small on sports, big on steam, Long Game is a full-length bad boy romance with a happily ever after and no cheating.
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
COPYRIGHT
VIP SIGN-UP
ALSO BY TEAGAN KADE:
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EPILOGUE