She looks like the woman I wanted in my bed the night I met her.
And the woman I wanted to please the night I met her again.
And the woman I can’t live without now.
She is all of those women, and I’m crazy for every side of Katie.
She’s the one I want now, and for all time.
I’m certain, and certainty feels incredible.
So does she as she rides my dick and rocks her body against mine, her moans growing louder, her pace quickening, her breath coming fast.
Her sounds and murmurs light me up, and soon we’re both chasing the edge then coming together.
In that regard, we’ve always had great timing.
Later, after we shower, I ask if she’s hungry.
“Starving,” she says.
“How about I take you out to eat?”
The sparkle in her blue eyes is the best thing ever. “Yes.”
Once we sit at a trendy restaurant and order, I go for it, tackling the next item of business. “So, you said you and your ex didn’t talk about kids. And you and I talked about them, but in a sort of roundabout way. So, this is my way of being direct.”
I’m pretty sure I know her answer. But I don’t want to assume. “Would you like to have kids with me someday? Because I would love to have kids with you.”
I don’t have to wait long for her answer. It comes in Katie reaching across the table, cupping my cheeks, and saying yes.
Yup, I like these retirement plans a whole helluva lot.
That night, we bake a thank-you pecan pie for Katie to take to her sister in the morning.
“Bet she spent the night with Zachary,” I say as we put it in the oven.
“You naughty man,” she says.
I scoff, knowing I’m close to right. “I saw the way he looked at her. And how she looked at him.”
“And how was that?”
I undo the apron around my waist, close the distance between me and my woman, and pin her arms behind her back. “Like he wanted to tie an apron around her wrists.”
She shoots me a dirty grin. “Tie that around mine. Then maybe spank me and fuck me in your kitchen?”
“We have just enough time while the pie bakes,” I say, and I do as she asked while the pie rises.
In the morning, Katie leaves after we enjoy the shower together, and a text pings on my phone an hour later.
Katie: All went well! Lacey is good with a replacement and the pie was a hit.
* * *
Harlan: I’m going to tell the team today I’m retiring. Can you come back then?
* * *
Katie: Honestly, I’m pretty happy with this solution. There are many other clients I can work for, and this way, everything is neat and tied up.
* * *
Harlan: Tied up. Sounds like what I’ll do to you next time I see you.
* * *
Katie: And that’s another reason! If I were to go back to the Renegades, I’d be the teacher who their Hall-of-Famer receiver ties up at night.
* * *
Harlan: I’ll tie you up in the morning too, if that makes you feel better.
* * *
Katie: I’m game. And I’m good with how it all shook out. Every single thing.
* * *
Harlan: Me too, sweetheart. But what about your sister and that guy?
* * *
Katie: I need to get her alone to discover those details. But she does have that just-been-fucked glow on her face.
* * *
Harlan: Like sister, like sister.
31
Katie
Fifty thousand fans stomp their feet.
They chant the team’s name.
I’m like a Kermit the Frog nail-biting gif, a nervous wreck, staring at the game clock. I can’t take my eyes off it. “C’mon, Renegades,” I shout. “Put some numbers up.”
My dad pats my shoulder. “Bet your guy scores.”
“I don’t care who scores from the Renegades. I just want them to win,” I say, desperately.
“We all do,” Dad says. “Have faith.”
But faith doesn’t win football games. Talent and timing and skill do. The score is still tied with hardly any time left.
With tension threading through every muscle, I perch on the edge of my seat as the Renegades get in the huddle with only a minute left in regulation.
“C’mon, my daughter’s boyfriend,” my dad shouts amidst the din of voices. I cast him a glance, roll my eyes.
“What? No one can hear me over the crowd.”
“And I don’t care if they do,” I say.
“Go, go, go!” he cries.
When Cooper takes the snap seconds later, Harlan shoots off down the field, going long. Holy smokes. He runs like the wind as Cooper cocks his arm, takes aim, and hurls the ball downfield.
I hold my breath as it arcs twenty, thirty, forty, fifty yards.
Harlan leaps, arms high in the air, wrapping around the ball and cradling it. Then he runs like hell into the end zone.
I lose my mind, along with the rest of the fans and the team itself.