Thousand Yard Bride

by Nora Flite

I took a deep breath and let it go. I didn’t need some stupid locker room brawl splashed all over the news. And the truth was, Jo was a calming influence. I’d been getting a little better at controlling my rage. A little.

  Reese slugged down a Croc-Cooler and said, “I might settle down soon, too. I’m getting too old for my current tricks.”

  “As long as you’re not too old for the game, QB,” Jam chuckled.

  Reese laughed so hard he spit out his drink. “I’ll be throwing touchdowns when we land a man on motherfucking Mars.”

  We all razzed each other a little more, and at the end of the day I left the stadium feeling like a winner. After all—tomorrow I'd see Jo.

  When we got to the airport my father was waiting for me. I thought he would have taken the jet back to New Haven right after the game.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked suspiciously.

  “You’re riding back with me,” he said. “We need to talk.”

  Dread washed over me. I always enjoyed the plane rides home with my teammates after an away game. After a win, the guys and I always had the best time unwinding and rehashing the plays.

  I was wondering why my father thought that this was a good time to deprive me of some much-needed morale boosting to catch up on whatever it was he wanted to catch up on, but I didn't have to wonder too long.

  As we walked down the tarmac to the family jet, my father said, “We haven’t spoken much since the wedding.” I felt like correcting him. We hadn’t actually exchanged any words at my wedding a week ago. I’d avoided him the entire night. My father continued, “I wanted to check in with you and make sure that you and Miss Cooke are handling the arrangement satisfactorily.”

  “Mrs. Daniels,” I corrected him.

  My dad gave me a blank look. “Yes, very good. I read that she’s moving into your penthouse. Was that her idea? Did she suggest it would be necessary for keeping up appearances? I suppose it's logical. However, she hasn't insisted that you add her to the deed, correct? You know we helped you purchase that property. It’ll stay in the family. Our family.”

  I wanted to tell him that I could afford to purchase my penthouse ten times over, and that if Jo ended up wanting the condo for herself then she could have it. I couldn't believe that I’d thought he was being helpful when he offered to help me buy it a few years ago. I should have known it would end up being just another way for him to control me. Nothing he ever did was out of kindness. He always had an angle.

  Everything had a price tag with him.

  “If you’re worried about the condo, you can take it back,” I said. “Jo and I can find another place.”

  “Well, Junior, that’s not what I was implying. I'll be blunt. You aren’t going to give her access to your money, are you? The pre-nup covers you legally, but you still have to be careful of emotional manipulation in situations like this,” he said as we boarded the plane. I wanted to sit as far away from him as possible but I knew I had to take the seat across from him. My father summoned the flight attendant. “Double whiskey,” he said. “Junior?”

  “Just a seltzer,” I muttered.

  “Order a real drink, boy. You have the rest of the day off.”

  Ignoring him, I told the flight attendant, “Just the water. Thanks.”

  He glared at me silently until she brought the drinks. Then he held up his and toasted, “To the Hawks' legacy.”

  I forced a smile and clinked my bottle against his glass. I was grateful he kept quiet as the plane took off, but once we reached our cruising altitude he turned toward me again with that shit-eating grin on his face. “Back to the matter of Joanne. I want to be sure that you two aren’t mixing business with pleasure, Hunter. That’s where you’ll get yourself caught up in some trouble.”

  “What? Are you asking me if I’m sleeping with Jo?” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation. My dad, of all people, was the last person on earth who should be giving me advice about not thinking with my dick.

  “I’m just saying.” Dad shrugged and took a long drink from his glass. “We wouldn’t want Jo to get the wrong idea about this arrangement.”

  “It’s really none of your business,” I said crisply.

  He bristled before sitting up straight in his chair. “Funny word. ‘Business.’ You play for the Hawks. I own the Hawks. Everything you do is my business. Remember how you met Joanne in the first place?”

  “Oh, I remember,” I said. “You introduced me to her. This was all your idea.”

  “You really will never learn how to take responsibility for your actions, will you, son? Are you saying that I’m at fault for you getting her pregnant? That it’s my fault you couldn’t keep your dick in your pants?”

  I laughed. I couldn't even acknowledge my father’s question. “Look. Regardless of what you think about me or Jo, I'm doing the best I can now. She’s been really great about the entire thing. What do you have against her?”

  “I don’t trust her, Hunter. You shouldn't either. This is the last time I hire a woman to do a man’s job.”

  Seething, I spilled some of my water as I leaned his way quickly. “She’s great at her job. You don’t know her at all, Dad.”

  “Maybe not. But do you really think you know her?”

  I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and talking to my dad would get me about as far as talking to a brick wall. I put in my earbuds, cranked up my music, and stayed silent the entire way home.

  I didn't even tell my father goodbye after I raced off the jet. The only person I wanted to see was Jo. I wasn't worried about her getting under my skin. I liked her there.

  I unlocked the door, noting immediately that my place smelled different. Like coconuts. I couldn’t figure out why until I saw Jo emerge from my guest bedroom wearing nothing but one of my royal blue towels tucked around her curvy body, hairbrush in her hand.

  “Hunter?” she said, smiling, her wet hair draped over her shoulders. “I didn’t think you landed until later.”

  There were a few things I wanted to say. I'd known that ahead of time. Things like Hello, and How are you? How's the baby?

  Curling my body around hers, I forced the towel down—left it by her ankles. She started to say my name, I kissed the sound away and kept going. Her belly was round enough that it bumped me when we embraced. I loved it.

  Jo didn't need to speak. Her hands crept over my chest, feeling my tattoos and showing off her own version of sign language. Easing her to the floor, I set her on her side and spooned her from behind.

  "Hunter." The way she said my name was like a wish made in private.

  Reaching around, I thumbed one of her hard nipples. Her skin was soft under my palm. Jo gasped, leaning her ass into my thickening shaft. "Did you miss me?" I whispered on the back of her ear.

  Again, she backed her perfectly big ass into me. I saw stars. "Of course."

  Thrilling, I kissed her neck, creating goosebumps along her arms. "Spread your legs," I told her. Jo lifted one, giving me easy access to the gap of her thighs. Nestling against her, I held her belly. My other hand worked my pants off, fishing out my rigid cock.

  Licking my hand, I stroked her pussy lightly. She was dripping quickly, not lying that she'd missed me. Gripping my dick at the base, I guided myself into her carefully. This position would work best for us both—honestly, anything would have worked for me.

  "Is this what you missed?" I asked, sliding just the tip of my cock-head inside of her.

  Her groan was raw and deep—just how I liked to fuck. "Yes—Hunter, just . . . fuck, go inside, fuck me. Please."

  I was going to ask her to beg. She'd beaten me to it. My eyes fluttered with a wave of ecstasy. Inch by inch, I slid into her pussy. My thumb played with her clit the whole time, deliberately keeping my pace slow.

  Jo pushed back on me; I grabbed her upper thigh, spreading her wider, exposing her so I could drill my full length into her at my own pace. As she started squeezing me, I rubbed her clit faster; har
der. I knew her body. She gave away her secrets to me long ago.

  The tiny way she gasped, her shoulders locking, said she was close to coming. I slowed down, enjoying her frustrated whine. "I love that sound," I admitted.

  Taking a full breath, she wiggled on me. "Fuck me now, make me come. I need to come."

  "I know," I chuckled. I was light headed—lost in the moment. This woman was full with my baby, that knowledge drove me insane. She was mine, she'd always be mine.

  Thumbing her clit, I stroked into her again. Jo shivered against me, her skin going chilly as all the heat went between her thighs. She came hard, convulsing, making me cradle her belly as she lost control.

  I was right behind her, firing inside so that it was nearly simultaneous.

  Yes. I'd missed being home.

  After a moment, she flipped on her back and chuckled. "You never answered me earlier. How did you get home so fast?"

  “I took my folks’ jet. Riding with my father was awful, but I’m happy it got me here so quick." To make my point, I rolled on my side and traced a finger down her sternum and over her round belly. She shuddered beneath my touch. "Are you all moved in?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Thank you so much for the office. I love it . . . and the printer, of course.”

  I let out a chuckle. “Most people are more interested in the high ceilings, but I'm happy you like it.”

  “I do. Thanks, Hunter. It was really thoughtful.”

  “Is the guest bedroom all right? Do you have everything you need?” I could have sworn that she was checking me out, her eyes looking me up and down like she wanted to go for round two.

  “It’s great. I moved some stuff around though, is that okay? I’ll show you,” she said, getting carefully to her feet. She wrapped herself in the towel, still dripping water from her hair as I followed her down the hall.

  My dad was right. Jo was getting to me, but I liked it. I liked the way I felt around her. All I wanted to do was fuck her and protect her and support her all at the same time.

  I saw that Jo had moved a dresser and said, “You didn't do that yourself did you? You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like that, Jo.”

  She flashed a big smile at me while shaking her head. “Lanie did it with her gigantically impressive rock climbing arms. I only directed from afar.”

  I was relieved. Jo didn’t like having to slow down, but I didn't like worrying about her. "Just be careful. If something happened to you while I wasn't here . . ."

  She whirled on me, putting her hand over my mouth. "Tsk. Bad luck. I'll be fine."

  Dropping my arms around her waist, I asked, “Is this too uncomfortable for you, Jo? Having to live here? Do you miss your place?”

  She half-shrugged. “It’s a little weird, I guess, but this condo is amazing. It’s like moving into a castle. Who could complain about that?”

  I nodded. “Great. Just make yourself at home. I mean that. Like, if you were at your apartment, what would you be doing right now?”

  “Honestly, I’d probably be on the couch watching guilty pleasure reality TV with a bowl of super salty popcorn."

  “Then let’s do that,” I said, taking her hand and pulling her towards the living room. She grabbed her towel with the other so it didn't fall down.

  “Well, I need to put on some clothes first,” she said.

  “If you absolutely have to,” I chuckled.

  “I do,” she said, backing up, heading into her room to get dressed.

  I tossed a bag of popcorn in the microwave and grabbed two water bottles. Looking around the kitchen, it was strange to see the evidence of someone else using it. Dishes were in the drying rack. A few spices had been left out.

  The only people I was used to having in my house on a consistent basis were Jeannie my housekeeper and Marco my chef. They worked in pretty predictable patterns. The dishwasher had always been run and was empty whenever I returned from an away game, and everything was usually put away. Jeannie had come Friday, but since Jo moved in yesterday, she’d had time to leave her mark.

  I liked looking around and seeing that she’d used a couple of mugs. Cooked something. I pictured her doing it, moving around the space, making the place look lived-in and homey, which was comforting.

  It was even more comforting just sitting next to her on my couch. Before, whenever I had a woman over to my place, it was almost always to score. Otherwise, having company meant I was just hanging out with the guys.

  Whenever Reese or someone came over, we’d play video games, or get drunk and watch ESPN. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d just sat quietly and watched TV with a woman.

  Lifting the remote, I asked, "What bad reality show do you want to watch?"

  “Well . . . Wild Wives is on tonight,” she said innocently.

  “Wild Wives? That sounds like porn. Not that I’m complaining.”

  Jo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it’s better than porn. It’s a super trashy reality show about these uber rich housewives who do fancy rich people things. And they fight all the time.”

  “Wait, and these women are friends?”

  “On the show, yeah. Who knows about real life, though.”

  “Only one way to find out." Leaning against her, I tugged at her wet hair. She'd put on a simple long shirt and sweat pants, comfortable for her growing belly. "You'll just have to fulfill your dream and become a Wild Wife."

  We both laughed before Jo said, “I think I'm already a wild wife."

  "I'll say." Kissing her neck, I lazily rolled my palm over one of her breasts. I could feel how swollen it was, the size changing. Just knowing the reason had my cock hardening.

  We watched Wild Wives and then two more hours of reality TV. Jo fell asleep in my lap, and I ended up watching another half hour show after that. When my Go-To-Sleep-Now-Asshole-Practice-Starts-At-Six-in-the-Morning alarm went off, I debated whether to let Jo sleep on the couch or not. While I was debating that in my head, I watched her serene face.

  Her wet hair had dried messily, but it was still beautiful. She had one hand beneath her head and one on her stomach over our baby. I reached out to touch her there, to feel our baby below it, but she woke up before I could make contact.

  “Mmm. What time is it?” Jo asked, yawning.

  I pulled my arm back. “It’s only eleven, but I have to be rested for practice in the morning. Not all fun and games, this professional football thing."

  “Did I keep you up?” she asked, still groggy. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nah. I had fun.”

  Jo yawned again, stretched sexily as she got up and stumbled her way to the guest bedroom. I watched her open the door and opened my mouth to invite her into my bed, but then hesitated. I knew what I wanted, but what did she want? She turned and looked over her shoulder with a sleepy smile.

  “Goodnight,” she said, slipping into the room and shutting the door behind her.

  “Night,” I whispered.

  In the air, where minutes ago her belly had been, I lifted my palm and just held it.

  21

  Hunter

  After that first night together we started hanging out each evening after practice when Jo came home from SportsFire or emerged, exhausted, from the home office I’d put together for her.

  We cooked meals side by side and watched TV or worked on our laptops, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that Jo got just as riled up watching football as I did. Sometimes we ordered in. Sometimes we went to the movies.

  Our relationship quickly shifted from feeling like a necessary arrangement to feeling like we were a real married couple. We weren’t hopping into bed together, but we were growing closer. And at some point, I realized we were best friends.

  I told a woman I loved her before I could have said we were best friends. How backwards was I? I wanted to laugh—it was a little too painful to do so.

  I thought I’d miss all the partying and drinking, but the truth is that all the rest and relaxation was doing me good, both men
tally and physically.

  I'd also stopped pretending I didn't want her. Not that I'd held back before, but living together, all pretense was gone. Whenever she brushed near me, stirring my cock, I'd groan loudly and grab for her hips.

  Most of the time she went along with it.

  If she didn't, it was only because of the pregnancy.

  But, funnily enough, in spite of being self-conscious about her stomach, Jo was hornier than ever. That was fucking great for me, because I didn't mind her round belly. I adored it. I couldn't get enough of being near her, touching her skin and feeling our baby move.

  Unfortunately, the week after Jo moved in, the team had another away game in Tucson. The week after that was a third game on the road in Cincinnati. It was brutal traveling so much, but the last game before my bye week was a home game against the Ospreys. It would also be the first game that Jo would attend publicly as Mrs. Hunter Daniels Jr.

  I could tell that the very idea of being in the spotlight on national TV while mega-pregnant was getting to her. The Saturday night before the game, she tried on three different outfits, modeling them for me.

  “You look hot in everything, Jo,” I said.

  “Not helping,” she answered. “But thanks. I think I need to call in backup.”

  When Lanie arrived, the first thing I noticed were her Hawks face tattoos. “Wow,” I said, “I sure hope those are temporary.” I was not expecting to see Lanie decked out like a mega fan. She even wore a cute Hawks jersey over a long sleeve shirt with jeans.

  “I’ve got school spirit, yes I do,” Lanie chirped.

  “Wrong league, but right idea,” I said, laughing. “Meanwhile your sister’s in her room tearing apart her closet.”

  “No worries,” Lanie said, holding up a Fan-A-Maniac bag. “I came prepared.”

  I followed Lanie as she went into Jo’s room. She said, “How about instead of that dress, which you’d freeze in by the way, you just wear what I’m wearing? We’d be twins!” Lanie pulled a Hawks jersey out of the bag.

  Jo seemed to warm to the idea quickly. “That would be nice, actually,” she said. “Being six months pregnant and trying to look good in these designer dresses is for the birds. What do you think, Hunter? Too gauche? Would your parents flip out?”