Gwen
thirty-one
Present
Lance: Are you ready to go?
No. **Sad Face emoji** Got more work to do. Do you want to drive my car home?
I watch the little dots dance, waiting for Lance’s response.
The Evaders played a mid-afternoon game, so we drove to the stadium together this morning and then after the game we would go home together. It’s Lance’s last night at home before he leaves for a week of away games, and we were planning to have dinner and hang out.
But I blew that plan out of the water because, instead of working, I sat in the employee box and watched the entire game. The plan was to stay for an inning or two, but then Lance got a double, and I didn’t want to miss a thing.
Now I’m stuck finishing up some stuff for All-Star Weekend, with Maryse. This season the Evaders are hosting the event, which includes not just the game itself but also a young players-and-prospects game, a celebrity game, the MLB draft, and a variety of interactive fan events.
Lance: Nah. I’ll just hitch a ride with Cam.
Okay. See you at home.
Lance: See you at home.
Home.
I twist the two rings dangling from the chain around my neck. A hidden reminder of us because I’m too chicken to wear them on my finger.
I still haven’t wrapped my head around how drastically my life has changed in the last few weeks. I’m married, and I live with my new husband in his big, beautiful house.
How is this my life?
One minute, my bestie is encouraging me to marry our friend to fool my father, and the next, Lance is throwing his hat in the ring and begging me to marry him instead.
I thought our situation would be awkward, but it’s been surprisingly easy. Lance and I have fallen into an easy routine.
Every morning, I wake up, go outside, and watch him swim his morning laps.
After, we get ready for work, eat breakfast at the counter, and then drive to the stadium together.
We talk and tease each other like two friends.
And every night before bed, he plants a soft kiss on my forehead and then falls asleep.
On his side of the bed. No touching, no cuddling. Nothing.
Following the rules as he promised.
Lance has been the perfect gentleman. Scratch that, husband.
He’s been the perfect husband. He makes me coffee every morning, using a different flavored syrup that he ordered just for me, buys me donuts for breakfast, and cooks me dinner every night.
I’m pretty sure all his sweetness is going to make my ovaries spontaneously combust.
“Earth to Gwen.” The snap of red-painted fingernails in my face pulls me from my thoughts.
I hastily shove my rings beneath my blouse and look up to find my boss, Maryse, grinning at me. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Maryse chuckles. “Girl, you’ve been staring at your laptop for, like, ten minutes.”
“Sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“I’m sure you do.” She briefly glances at the spot where my rings lie hidden. “Anyway, Mateo’s here and is demanding that I go home and rest.”
“You should totally get some rest. It’s been a long day.”
Maryse shuts the lid of my laptop. “If you think for one second I’m going to let you stay here working alone, you are out of your mind.”
“But …” I look around the now empty office. I must have really spaced out if I didn’t notice my colleague leaving.
“No buts. Everything will get done. Just not tonight. Now, go home and get yourself some dinner. I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” She rubs her rounded stomach.
At the thought of food, my stomach rumbles loud enough for Maryse to chuckle. “Guess I am a little hungry.”
I haven’t eaten since I inhaled an order of the stadium’s famous truffle fries while I watched the game.
“Girl, same. Gotta get some food before this baby revolts and I’m hit with a terrible case of heartburn.” The phone in Maryse’s hand buzzes. She shakes her head and smiles as she reads the message. “I better go before my husband comes looking for me. Same time tomorrow?”
“You know it.”
“Thank you for all the hard work you’ve been putting in, Gwen. You’ve been doing an amazing job, and I want you to know that I submitted a request to HR for you to cover while I’m on maternity.” She winks at me.
My stomach bottoms out, but I plaster on a smile. “Thank you. Having your support means a lot to me.”
After trying to get pregnant for so long, Maryse isn’t sure she wants to return to work after she has the baby. Her husband, Mateo Diaz—a retired Evaders’ pitcher—just wants her to be happy and healthy, no matter what she chooses. He’s the green-flag husband of every girl’s dreams.
Maryse’s plan is to make sure I’m prepared in case she decides not to come back.
“Lance?” I call out, slipping off my shoes by the door.
I make my way through the lit living room toward the kitchen, checking the pool through the back wall of windows. The lights outside are off, and the water is undisturbed.
No Lance.
As I make my way toward the back of the house, the sound of the shower running in the distance grows louder. Not thinking much of it, since Lance has been using the guest bathroom to shower, I enter the bedroom and unzip my skirt, pushing it over my hips and letting it fall to the floor.
I scoop up my skirt and head toward the walk-in closet. My feet freeze two steps past the bathroom when it finally registers that the sound of water crashing onto the tiles is coming from the master bathroom and the door is wide open.
Lance is showering with the door open.
My heart races, and a hot wave of need rolls through me.
Do not look, Gwen. Keep walking.
My feet have a mind of their own and reverse their direction.
Steam covers the glass walls of the shower, but I can still make out Lance’s back as he stands under the spray of water. My gaze travels lower, checking out his firm ass.
Memories of the last time we shared a shower pop into my head. Me on my knees, water dripping down Lance’s chest as his hips thrust and his cock bumped the back of my throat.
His body jerks, pulling me from my visions.
“Fuck,” he groans.
Is he doing what I think he’s doing?
I inch closer. Lance’s back and arm jerk again. He leans forward, resting one hand on the tiled wall, and mutters, “Gwen.”
Ohmigod, he said my name. My name. Which means …
Biting back a moan, I watch as his corded back muscles contract with every stroke of his cock. Heat pools low in my belly and my clit throbs with desire, urging me to reach down and touch myself.
Lance turns around with a grunt, nailing me with his dark blue eyes.
I should run. Give him his personal space as he takes care of his needs. But I don’t. I can’t. I’m glued to the spot, watching him. Like a fly caught in a spider’s web.
My gaze bounces between his lust-filled eyes and his fist as he continues to move up and down his shaft.
Like a heated caress, his eyes rake over my body, lingering on my legs for a second longer.
The sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of my core contracts with need, and the ache between my legs grows unbearable.
“Gwen,” he rasps. His voice is low, strangled with desire. “Do you see what you do to me?” He strokes his cock again. Slower. Almost taunting me to do something.
Alarm bells go off in my brain, telling me to remember the rules we put in place to keep from blurring the lines.
I take a step back on instinct.
“Don’t move,” Lance growls.
Obeying his command, I freeze. My heart races like a wildebeest stampede in my chest as I wait for his next order.
“That’s my good girl.”
My pussy clenches with desire at his praise.
What is wrong with me? I shouldn’t be here, watching him. I should put my skirt back on, run out of the house, jump into my car, and drive back to my apartment.
But I don’t run. I stay rooted in place, watching the sexiest man alive pleasure himself while looking me in the eye and mumbling my name.
“Come closer.” There’s a wolfish bite to his demand. “I want you to watch me fuck my fist until I come all over the glass for you to see.”
I move on instinct. A fine layer of mist coats my heated skin as my feet move deeper into the steamy bathroom. Hand still stroking his cock, he watches me like a hunter stalking its prey.
“Do you like watching me?” he grits out, his blue eyes darkening like a hurricane on the horizon, ready to hit the shores with ferocity, ready to ruin everything in its path.
“Yes,” I croak as my thighs rub together, searching for the friction my core so desperately needs.
His gaze follows my reaction and rests at the apex. A flush of hot, wet arousal pools between my legs. A devilish smile curves his lips. I glance down and find a small wet spot on my panties.
“Fuck,” he growls, pumping his cock faster. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
I swipe my tongue over my dry lips. “I do?”
“Yes. You’re here, living in my house, sleeping in my bed, wearing my clothes, and I can’t fucking touch you.” His chest rises and falls as fast as his fist moves over his cock. “So here I am jerking off again, wishing it was your tight, wet pussy I was fucking instead.”
His words are bolts of electricity shooting through me. Wanton and needy. The buzz is hot and fuzzy, and it flows along the surface of my skin, making every cell in my body feel alive.
“You think of me?” My question treads a dangerous line.
As much as I want Lance to want me, I don’t know if it’s enough for me to take that leap off the cliff and let him into my heart when our marriage is only supposed to be temporary.
Even knowing he didn’t want me to leave after our one night, he was still a huge jackass to me.
Cutting me with his words and hot-and-cold attitude.
“Every time, little witch. You’re all I think about. All. I. Want,” he admits with a growl.
He throws his head back and, like he said he would, Lance explodes in thick white spurts of cum, all over the glass partition that separates us.
My heart beats erratically in my chest as the butterflies in my stomach ascend, fluttering their wings about.
When he opens his eyes, it feels as if I’m being forcibly launched over the cliff and into space. Full of heat and yearning, his twin pools of liquid sapphire beg me to let go. To trust that he’ll catch me.
I can’t.
At least not yet.
So, I run.