by Max Monroe
His mouth sucked at my neck, hitting that spot below my ear that had moans slipping past my lips. He slid his fingers into my hair and tilted my head to give him more room. And God, he used that extra space—his lips and tongue, sucking and licking along my skin, moving down to my shoulder and then back up again.
My back arched and my hips lifted, seeking relief from the pulsing ache building below my belly. “Please,” I begged. I needed more, I needed his mouth, his lips, his hands, his cock. I needed him on me, in me, all fucking over me. I wanted everything, and I wanted it all at the same time.
My nails found their way into the smooth skin of his back, leaving their mark and showing him just how desperate I was for what he had to give.
He kissed a wet, openmouthed path down my throat and between my breasts as his body slid down mine. His large hands slipped my tank down until I was bared for his heady gaze.
“Christ.” He groaned when his eyes took in my hard nipples and heaving chest.
His tongue licked a hot trail across my breast until he sucked me into his mouth.
“These fucking perfect tits were made for my big fucking hands. Fuck, Cass. I shouldn’t be hard right now, but I am. I’m so fucking hard for you.” He punctuated that statement by grinding against me until I moaned.
When those words passed his lips, I was pretty sure angels started singing.
“Yes, please. I need it, baby.”
“Not yet.”
His hands continued to grip my breasts, and his thumbs brushed across my nipples as his mouth moved down my belly. He licked from one hip bone to the next until he descended farther and pressed his warm mouth against my clit. He sucked on me through my panties, and my eyes rolled back.
“You’re soaked. I need to lick you clean before I slide my cock inside this perfect pussy.”
In two quick pulls, he tore my underwear off my body and didn’t waste a second after. He sucked and ate at my pussy until my legs started to shake and I gripped his hair with my fingers.
“How do you want it, honey? My mouth or my cock?”
“If you don’t fuck me right now I swear—”
He had his cock out and his hands gripping my thighs before I could finish. He thrust inside me between one panting breath and the next.
I moaned, my voice echoing inside of the silent apartment.
“More?” He pushed a little deeper.
“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, Cass.” He damn near growled. “You always feel so good.”
Four hours and a combined four orgasms later—three for me and one for Thatch—we were riding up the elevator toward the owner’s suite at Paul Howard Stadium, the home of the New York Mavericks.
I was fidgety with nervous excitement, practically bouncing from foot to foot.
Thatch smirked and wrapped his arm around my shoulders, tucking me into his side. “Don’t worry, honey. He’s healthy. He’s in the best shape of his life. Sean’s going to do great.”
I nodded. “I know, but I can’t stop feeling so nervous. I mean, it’s my baby brother’s first professional football game.”
“Yeah, and he’s about to show the Mavericks that drafting him was the best decision they ever made.”
The elevator dinged when we reached the top level, and Thatch led me out with a hand softly pressed to my lower back.
I looked up into his confident gaze and grinned. “You’re right. Sean is going to kick some serious ass today.”
“I’m always right, honey. We’ve established this numerous times.”
I lifted my hand and feigned a dick slap.
He didn’t even flinch, and I tilted my head in surprise.
He smirked. “We’ve also established that you broke my dick, honey. You could kick me in the balls right now, and I probably wouldn’t feel it.”
I glanced down at his crotch and then back up to him. My mouth tilted into a devious smile.
“No,” he said and shook his head. “I’m not fucking you here. So go ahead and come to terms with that fact right now.”
Fact? Yeah, we’d see about that. I’d thoughtfully planned my apparel ahead of time.
“I love you so much,” I told Cassie’s tits through a moan. They looked fucking spectacular today in her number seventy-eight Mavericks jersey sans bra.
Maybe it was inappropriate to ogle her chest through a shirt she donned to support her brother, but fuck. They looked so good. Walking into the stadium, women had looked at her like she was crazy, and men had looked at me like they were considering murder for the chance to take my place.
It had been awesome.
“Harder, baby,” Cassie ordered in between gasps as I gave into temptation and buried my face in the low V-neck of her shirt and held her up and against the owner’s suite bathroom wall. She’d been relentless for the last month or so, completely sexually insatiable, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t completely sure I could keep up.
I tried to increase my tempo and force without breaking her in half or making myself come prematurely. The line I walked for both was fantastically thin.
“Fuck my pussy, Thatch,” she demanded, and I closed my eyes to fight the tingle in my spine.
“I am, honey,” I told her, because I was. I was giving her everything I had to give, and she still wanted more. I both loved and hated the idea that my woman could take so much.
It was hot as fuck, but it didn’t do me much good if I couldn’t keep up.
Sucking at the top swell of her breast, I tightened my grip on her ass, lifted her even higher, pushed her harder into the door, and set up a pounding rhythm. The hinged wood rattled, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind all of our friends could hear every single thrust.
“Fuck yeah, oh, yeah,” she screamed. Moving my mouth from her chest to her lips, I worked my tongue between the seam to silence her.
She hiccupped through her pleasure and dug her fingernails into my shoulders in an attempt to climb me higher.
One hand left me to stroke her own nipple through her shirt, and I groaned.
“Careful, baby,” I warned her. “You’re gonna have to finish on my tongue if you keep that up.”
“Uh, oh, yeah,” she moaned, ignoring me completely and chasing her own pleasure like a search dog.
“Goddamn,” I told her throat. “You are the sexiest fucking woman on the planet.”
Using her other hand to help, she pulled the neck of her shirt down and under her tits to bare them to my eyes and make them accessible for my mouth.
“Suck on them, Thatcher.” She moaned. “Fucking eat them.”
“Fuuuuck.”
Never in my life would I be able to deny a request like that.
Every time her pussy swallowed my dick, milking it until I could barely pull back out, her tits bounced, and I lost control a little more.
“Get there, Cass,” I ordered, shifting a hand on her ass until my fingertips met the union between her wet pussy and my dick.
Her head fell back, her long hair bunching at the back where it rubbed persistently against the door. A crease formed in her lip with the force of her bite as she tried—and failed—to contain the yell of her orgasm.
The sight of her face and the feel of her coming on my dick sent me right over the edge.
I shoved my face right in the center of her tits to muffle my groan. Grabbing on to my hair, she pulled my face into her harder.
I licked a path from the center and up, over the swell of each, and around each nipple.
She cooed and mewled like she couldn’t get enough.
“Still greedy for it?” I asked on a whisper. She licked her lips and nodded.
“We’ll sneak away again soon,” I promised, though I doubted our sneaking was anywhere near secret or sleuth in any way at this point. And I also doubted I’d be the one to suggest said sneaking away. I was about one fuck away from my dick actually falling off.
Her feet hit the floor as I set h
er down gently, and I kept my hands at her hips until she steadied on her feet.
The maxi skirt she had on with no panties sure made this a lot easier. She laughed as I waved good-bye to her tits before pulling her shirt back up to cover them. “I’ll miss you,” I told them, and I really would.
Every time I saw them was like the first time.
“You okay?” I asked her as she cleaned herself up at the sink and I buttoned and zipped my pants and buckled my belt. “You want me to wait for you to make the walk of shame together?”
Her laugh made me back into the door. I’d never ever grow weary of it either.
“It’s only the walk of shame if you have some, and you and I both know that we—”
“Don’t have any,” I finished for her through a chuckle. Taking a giant stride, I closed the distance between us and kissed her once, softly, on the lips. “I love you.”
“I know,” she said with a wink. My hand shot to my chest to catch my beating heart as I backed my way to the door. She rolled her eyes at my dramatics, and then she turned back to the mirror and rubbed at her face and fluffed at her hair to fix all the things women worried about that men hardly ever noticed. I took the opportunity to duck back outside.
Every eye in the suite came immediately to me.
Wes started a slow clap, and Kline pressed his face into Georgia’s neck to hide his laugh. Georgie giggled outright in his lap.
“I’ll make sure the cleaning crew spends extra time in there tonight,” Wes remarked, and I flipped him off with a shrug.
“The game is getting ready to start,” I reminded him. “Don’t you have something you could be doing other than busting my balls?”
“Nope,” he answered with a smirk. “Not right this second.”
I smiled at the fact that I didn’t care. Since Cassie had officially become mine, I’d been fairly immune to anything that could diminish my mood. Not much had ever affected my mood negatively before, but now my happiness was at an all-time high.
I was really fucking tired, though.
Shoving around Wes, I took the seat beside Kline just as Georgia hopped off his lap.
“You don’t have to leave on my account, Georgia girl.”
She smiled and waved me off. “You guys can have guy time, and I’ll go see if Cassie still has leg function.”
I winked at her. “Barely.”
Kline groaned.
“What?” I asked, looking back to see Cassie give me a little wave as she came out of the bathroom. She motioned toward the door and Georgia and, as far as I could tell, indicated they were going to go for a walk outside.
“We’ll be back,” Georgia called. Kline jumped up and ran over her to give her a kiss on the lips.
Now it was Wes’s turn to groan. “Jesus Christ, you guys. Did anyone notice there’s a football field down there? Or is a pussy all you can see anymore?” He slid into Kline’s vacated seat.
“It’s a really pretty pussy,” I told him mock-seriously.
“Who’s a pussy?” Kline asked as he took the seat on my other side.
“You guys are,” Wes answered.
“Pussy-whipped. I’m pussy-whipped,” Kline corrected. “And trust me, no matter what you think, it’s a really good fucking thing to be.”
The urge to close my eyes for a minute overwhelmed me, so I gave in, slouching down and leaning my head back.
I felt a poke at my knee and cracked an eye open. “What’s wrong with you?” Wes asked. “Did Cassie fuck the life out of you?”
He was teasing, but fuck me, he really wasn’t far off the mark.
Kline sat up and took interest when I didn’t refute him.
Wes’s phone rang before I could say anything.
“Yeah?” he answered, and I rolled my eyes at his lack of greeting. What a prick. “All right. Yeah. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
I waggled my eyebrows at Kline. “Looks like he has to go to work after all.”
“Fuck you,” Wes said, having heard me as he was hanging up the phone. “I’ll be back by kickoff, hopefully.” He strode for the door like a man on a mission.
“All right,” Kline declared in his no-nonsense voice. “What the fuck is going on with you?”
The consideration to make a joke or avoid the topic was only brief. “I’m so tired,” I told him honestly.
“Tired?”
I sat up and nodded. “Cassie has been so fucking horny lately.”
He rolled his eyes, thinking I was joking. I shook my head vehemently. “No, dude. I’m talking really horny. Six, seven, eight times a day she wants it, and not only is my dick not physically capable, my tongue is sore.”
“Less detail,” he requested with a grimace.
“She’s so fucking hot, and I’d amputate my dick before saying no, but I seriously don’t know if I can keep up anymore.”
He started to smile, and all it did was agitate me. I pointed at him sternly. “I’m serious. This is a problem. I mean, it’s a fitting way for me to die, but I really thought I’d have a little more time with her before I did.”
He laughed but held his hands up in defense when my eyes narrowed. “Let’s break this down. This is new behavior?”
“She’s always down for a ride on the Supercock—”
“Less detail,” he stressed. “I said less detail.”
“But it’s more so. Like, a lot more.” I pouted. “Help me.”
His smile mocked me, but his words told me he was genuinely trying to help me find a solution. “Is there anything else different?”
“Like what? Did I get sexier?” I asked, and then answered myself. “I mean, maybe.”
“Not with you, idiot. With her. Is there anything else different with her?”
I searched my mind wildly, and my eyes went to the ceiling. “She’s crazy.”
He shook his head. “So that’s the same.”
I laughed because, yeah, he was half right. “Yeah, but no. She’s crazier, I think.”
“Any changes in her body?” Kline asked, and my eyebrows pulled together.
Her body was fucking insane like always. “Jesus. I don’t know. Her body is—”
“Don’t tell me,” he cut in before I could tell him more things he thought he didn’t want to know.
And it hit me. This fucking smart bastard. “You think she’s pregnant, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Is she? Could she be?”
Well, fuck. We were fucking like animals. There was always a chance she could be pregnant. I thought back through everything until it hit me.
“Holy shit. I do think her tits are bigger.” They’ve been trying to tell me all along.
Cassie was pregnant. Probably.
The sound of the door opening behind us pulled my gaze to the back of the room. As Cassie and Georgia giggled their way back into the suite, I couldn’t take my eyes off my best friend. She radiated happiness and beauty and life and everything I’d ever wanted.
Kline leaned over to whisper in my ear, and my heart jumped in my chest when he did. “She looks good with a glow. Congratulations.”
One month ago I had resigned as St. Luke’s Chief of Emergency Medicine and signed on as the New York Mavericks’ head team physician. I’d made the career change in hopes that the majority of my workweeks would cut off at fifty hours, and most importantly, that I’d have more time to spend with my daughter, Lexi.
Being a single mother was hard. Add in a full-time job, and it was damn near impossible. But I felt like I’d made the right choice. Lexi wasn’t with a babysitter all of the time, and I’d started finding time for myself, time to go out with friends, time to date—although, I had yet to really accomplish that one.
But I wasn’t in a rush to dive headfirst into the dating scene anyway. I just wanted to enjoy this slice of normalcy I had accomplished by taking this new job.
The bustling sounds of the stadium filled my ears as I strode through the long hallway that led to the tunnel to walk out
onto the field. Today marked the opening game for the New York Mavericks, and I was excited to see the guys get out onto the field and kick some ass.
My heels tip-tapped across the concrete as I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check for what had to be a million text messages in my group chat with Georgia and Cassie.
Georgia: Go Mavericks! Good luck today, Win!
Cassie: Ditto on what G said. How’s my brother? Did he look okay during warm-ups? How’s his knee? Did he say anything about it?
Georgia: SEAN IS FINE, Cass. Stop bugging her about it for the millionth time today.
Cassie: Stop texting me when you’re sitting right next to me.
Georgia: You totally fucked Thatch in the owner’s suite bathroom.
Cassie: I know I did. I was there.
Georgia: What’s going on with you? You feeling okay?
Georgia: Hello? Earth to Cassie.
Georgia: Are
Georgia: You
Georgia: Okay
The convo went on for miles. And I couldn’t help but smile at their ridiculousness. Georgia and Cassie were awesome. After I had met them at lunch with Will, they had taken it upon themselves to offer their friendship. Girls’ nights, coffee dates, lunches at Georgia’s house—all of it had become a common occurrence in my life.
I kept reading, wondering in amusement if the texts would ever end.
Cassie: I’d be a lot better if you stopped texting me.
Georgia: Sheesh, for a woman who just screamed her way through an orgasm, you’re kind of testy today.
Cassie: I’m ignoring you.
Georgia: Gnome you’re not.
Cassie: Stop. It.
Georgia: Gnome what your problem is?
Cassie: You. You are my problem.
Georgia: Gnome I’m not.
I laughed when I finally reached the last text that had been sent a mere two minutes ago and typed out a quick message.
