Epilogue #2
We lost ten yards but two downs later, Omiri threw another perfect pass to McClain, right in the damn end zone, and he dropped it.
I threw my hands up and yelled, “The fuck?! Come on, guys.”
“I need him to get his head in the game,” Shiya said, lifting her drink.
We settled for a field goal and tied things at thirteen but they came right back and scored a touchdown.
We were now down by seven and about to go into the fourth quarter.
One quarter to make this happen. I really needed this to happen.
We went back and forth with no score for most of the fourth quarter until Omiri had a drive down field and crossed the end zone for the first touchdown of the quarter to tie the game.
Then they turned around and kicked a field goal, putting them up by three with two minutes left in the game.
They were on McClain and our running backs heavy, so Omiri ended up running in another touchdown, having no other option, that put us up by four with thirty seconds left in the game.
“Come the fuck on, defense. Do your thing,” I yelled when we kicked off and Miami made a drive.
They needed a touchdown and were going for it, which had my heart about to damn explode.
They were fourth and eight for a first down, and as soon as the ball snapped, their quarterback faked like he was going to throw but took off running instead only to get knocked on his ass and fumble the ball. We grabbed it and the crowd went crazy.
The box erupted in celebration with everyone cheering and popping bottles but I stood there grinning with my hands over my mouth. Omiri turned his head and did a two-finger salute toward the box right before he disappeared into a sea of Sharks jerseys.
He did it. He fucking did it…
After we spent time on the field, celebrating with the team, watching as Omiri received the MVP trophy and did his media run, Janice and I took Avi home. I got a text on the way with an address and virtual key card to the Presidential Suite at The Metropolitan.
The text that followed said: we’re celebrating, dress sexy.
I did as told and a car arrived and took me to the Metropolitan.
I took the elevator to the suite reserved and used my virtual key to enter.
When I made it inside, I found my man standing in the center of the room dressed in just black briefs.
I rolled my eyes and made my way to him, looping my arms around his neck.
“Why did I have to dress sexy if you don’t?”
“I’m the MVP and got the win. This is about me and what I want and I wanted you in this dress.”
Omiri kissed me, then moved his hands down my sides and over my ass, which he palmed and dug his fingers into.
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you. You gonna be my prize.”
“Maybe. What would you like?”
“One night.” He smiled sexily and I shook my head.
“I don’t do one night stands.”
“That’s cool, I don’t either. My wife don’t like to share.”
I arched my brow. “You have a wife?”
“Yeah, and a daughter.” He kissed my neck and reached behind me to unzip my dress.
The chill from the room touched my skin right before he pushed the fabric off my shoulders and down my body.
He reared his head back and bit down on his lip, admiring my body when he realized I was only wearing a thong under my dress.
His hands moved over my skin as he kneeled before me and slowly helped me out of it.
“You have a daughter?”
“Yeah, and she’s beautiful as fuck too.” Omiri kissed my stomach and looked up at me with a sexy grin. His fingers trailed between my thighs, over my slit, then he guided them into me. I arched my back and moaned in approval.
“Just like her mother.”
“Huh…” My lids fluttered and I looked down at him, watching as he kissed the inside of my thigh then extended to his full height. He dropped his head and brushed his lips over mine.
“I said my daughter is beautiful as fuck, just like her mother.”
“Mmm, you’re a lucky man.”
“Nah baby, not lucky. Deserving and so is she.” He winked and lifted me around his waist, carrying me to the bedroom.
When he sat with me on his lap, I eased my hands between us and removed his dick from his briefs.
I stroked him several times then lifted enough to ease down on him.
We both groaned in satisfaction from the feel of our connection.
I smiled and cupped his cheeks, brushing my fingers over his bearded face.
“If your daughter is beautiful like your wife, will your son be handsome like his father?”
Omiri nodded, smiling arrogantly. “Yeah, he’s gonna match my fly.”
I began circling my hips while his hands guided me up and down his dick. He felt so damn good. This felt so damn good…and real.
“This feels like déjà vu,” I said softly and kissed him.
“I feel you on that. I got my wife pregnant at a hotel two years ago after a Super Bowl party. It’s crazy as fuck that I’m here with you like this now. Probably not the smartest thing I’ve ever done.”
I grinned and nodded. “Probably not but you’re safe. You can’t get me pregnant.”
His tongue glided over his bottom lip before he kissed me. “Don’t be so sure.”
“I’m very sure, because it’s impossible.”
His eyes narrowed on my face and I quickly added, “I’m already carrying my husband’s baby.”
He froze and his eyes narrowed even more. “You’re…”
I bit my lip and nodded. “Pregnant.”
“Fuck, are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
His ass smiled and kissed me again, but this time he poured his soul into mine with every swipe of his tongue and upward thrust of his dick. When I had his eyes again, they were cocky and determined.
“You’re already carrying one, let’s see if I can put another one in there and make that shit twins.”
I laughed when he lifted us and my back hit the mattress. He pulled back and drove into me hard, making me spread my legs wider.
“That’s not possible.”
“This is me, baby. Anything’s possible when I have you.”
His mouth was on mine again and I decided to see how this played out. We definitely weren’t having twins, but if nothing else, I was going to thoroughly enjoy the effort because this love, this man, and this dick were only for me…