35. Lance
thirty-five
Lance
Present
From the entrance to the kitchen, I watch Gwen open the cabinet filled with coffee syrups and step back. She moves her pointed index finger side to side as she scans each bottle’s label for the flavor she’s craving.
I find it fascinating that she never picks the same flavor two days in a row. I’m a creature of habit. If I find something I like, there’s no switching. Some might say that’s the safe choice, but why mess with something that works.
Gwen’s long hair falls down her back in tight curls, grazing the top of her ass. Even covered in the finest wool suit pants, her backside looks rather delectable. Wish I could walk over and bite those cheeks. Spank them raw. Spread them wide and grab them tight.
Like it always does when I think about her, my cock twitches to life.
Shaking my lust-addled brain free of dirty thoughts of my wife, I enter the kitchen and stand behind her.
“Good morning,” I whisper into Gwen’s ear.
She whips her head to the side with a yelp, smacking me in the face with all that gorgeous hair. It smells of flowers and powder and of home.
“Dammit, Lance, you scared the crap out of me.” She’s breathing hard and clutching her chest as the vein on her neck flutters like hummingbird wings.
Her gaze falls to my naked chest, and I can’t help flexing, my body preening under her gaze.
After a week apart—me on the road and Gwen at her place—we are back at my place, and she’s back to maintaining boundaries.
Me? Not so much.
I boop her nose. “Not my fault you were so focused on the syrups that you didn’t hear me.”
Gwen removes her eyes from my pecs and grins at me, all traces of lust gone.
Bummer.
“I was lost, wasn’t I?” She turns back to the cabinet. “I don’t know what I’m feeling today. I have it narrowed down to white chocolate vanilla and salted caramel. What do you think?”
“I think black coffee sounds better,” I tease.
Gwen’s body stiffens, and she draws in an audible breath as I reach for the hot coffee pot, grazing her arm.
She tries to act unaffected, stepping to the side, but I spot how the small hairs on her arm stand on end.
My wife still denies our connection, her attraction. Fighting me. She can have all the time she needs to come around, but we are going to happen. In the meantime, I’ll keep secretly working on pushing her boundaries, hoping she’ll give in sooner rather than later.
Hiding my smirk, I fill the empty coffee mug Gwen set out for me—like she does every morning—as she reaches for a syrup bottle.
“What did you decide on?” I ask, leaning back against the counter and sipping my coffee.
“Gingerbread,” she whispers, avoiding eye contact and slowly stirring in the syrup so she doesn’t spill.
Interesting flavor switch. I wonder why she changed.
“Sounds good. Can I try it?” I ask, putting my coffee down.
With wide eyes, Gwen whirls around to face me. I can’t quite put my finger on the look in her eyes as they jump to mine, but I detect a mix of panic, curiosity, and yearning.
“Sure.” With a slight tremor in her hand, she extends the cup to me.
Keeping my gaze firmly on her beautiful face, I bring the mug to my lips and sip. The coffee is rich and spicy, and not as sweet as I thought it would be.
Gwen’s cheeks turn the sexiest shade of pink as she breaks eye contact to stare at my mouth. I capitalize on the look and make a show of licking my lips afterward, producing a deep, rumbly hum in the back of my throat.
Her lips part, and her tongue sweeps across her bottom lip.
Oh yeah. She’s affected.
As suggested by the guys, I’ve been teasing Gwen any way I can. A flirty comment here. An innocent touch there. Chaste kisses on her cheek and forehead. Walking around without a shirt on. Stuff like that.
It’s working, but Gwen still hasn’t cracked. She’s close, but not close enough. I think I need to up my game.
“It’s pretty good,” I admit, handing Gwen the mug, making sure my fingers graze hers as she takes the steaming drink from me.
“Thanks.” She walks around the island and takes a seat at the counter.
I follow, grabbing the empty chair and dragging it closer to her before sitting down. Hooking my fingers over the pink pastry box, I slide it toward Gwen, lifting the lid. “Donut?”
“You know I can’t say no.” She pinches a vanilla glaze between her fingers and brings it to her mouth, sinking her teeth into the sugary, fried dough with a moan.
All the blood in my body rushes south, and my cock strains against my boxer briefs. As stealthily as I can, I adjust myself as I continue to watch Gwen eat.
Fuck. She’s so sexy when she eats; I could watch her all day.
I could watch her do anything, and I’d think she was the sexiest woman on the planet.
New kink unlocked: Gwen.
“Lance?” she asks.
“Yeah?”
“You’re staring.” She nibbles her donut as I stare at her mouth.
“Can’t help it.”
“Why is that?”
“Because I wish I were that donut you’re eating, getting glaze all over your mouth.”
Gwen giggles. “Be serious.”
“I am. If I stand up, you’ll see just how serious I am.”
Her eyes drop to my crotch and back, and a small whimper, barely audible for me to hear, tickles the back of her throat.
“Not yet, little witch.” Reaching out, I push a stray curl off her face and behind her ear, grazing my fingertips over the sensitive skin. She fights a shiver as goosebumps pimple the skin on her arms.
So fucking close.
If we didn’t have other stuff going on, I’d fall to my knees right here in the kitchen and prove how badly I want her.
But she’s got a job to do and people to prove wrong, and I have a game to win.
Soon, I tell myself.
I sense her walls shaking, cracking. Beginning to crumble.
It would be nice if she could just read my mind and see I’m already there, waiting for her to catch up and fall with me.
“Finish your breakfast while I go change. Then I’ll drive us to the stadium.” Without giving her a chance to argue, I lean in and kiss her on the mouth, swiping my tongue over the smear of frosting coating her bottom lip.
“So fucking tasty,” I growl, leaving a flustered Gwen in the kitchen.
The buzz in the locker room is electric. We dominated tonight, beating Detroit 12–4. Our defense was on fire, shutting down every hit the Tigers made.
My game was on point. Best I’ve had in a while. I hit a single, a double, took a walk, and at my last at-bat, I hit a home run deep into center field. Pretty sure it had everything to do with knowing a certain woman with aqua eyes was watching me from the owner’s box.
“Alright, guys, what are we doing tonight?” Reed asks as he unbuttons his jersey.
“Depends,” Heath says, plopping down into the chair in front of his locker.
“Since all you fuckers are wifed up or close to it”—Reed points at Nico—“I was thinking I could call Tony.”
Tony owns a local bar and grill that the team likes to eat at after early home games.
Blake perks up. “Burgers and beers at The Clubhouse?”
The Clubhouse, aka the Evaders’ team bar, is a 1950s-style restaurant with an extensive amount of Evaders’ memorabilia covering the walls.
One call, and Tony pushes fans out so the team can come in and eat without getting swarmed, but players have to promise to tip big and leave behind something autographed to be displayed.
“You know I’m in,” Blake says, rubbing his stomach. He has the stomach of a professional eater and the metabolism of a teenager. He can eat twenty-four-seven.
“Grace is in the family box tonight with Talia and Savannah, so I’ll text her and see if they want to go too.” Heath stares at his phone, his fingers tapping away.
“Go where?” Nico asks, bending over to take off his cleats.
“Clubhouse,” I answer.
“I could eat a burger,” Cam says, tossing his hat into his locker.
“The girls are in,” Heath says to Cam and Nico, who both nod in approval.
Shit. I should have made sure Gwen was with my teammates’ partners for the game. It’s easy to forget when she works here.
“See what I mean? All you married fuckers checking in. What about you, Lance, or do you need to check in with the ball and chain too?” Reed sneers in fake disgust. He acts like a dick, but the guy is a softy.
“Seeing as I’m not a huge douche, yes, I need to check in with”—I glance around, making sure unwanted ears are far away, before answering—“my wife.”
“So glad I’m not tied down,” Reed says, shaking his head.
“You’re just jealous,” Nico grumbles, taking off his chain and hanging it in the locker. I don’t know how he wears that heavy thing around his neck while he plays.
Reed rears back, clutching his invisible pearl necklace. “Jealous of your disgusting monogamous relationship? Definitely not.”
“I’m jealous.” Blake sighs. “I’m getting kind of tired of dating. Having someone to come home to sounds kind of nice.”
“Do you see what you’re doing?” Read points at Blake. “Your disgusting disease is spreading.”
The group of us burst out laughing.
“If you’re not careful, the disease is gonna get you.” Heath wiggles his fingers in the air.
Cam stands up and coughs in Reed’s face. “Oops.”
“Gross! What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?” Reed grabs Cam and puts him in a chokehold.
“I was just making sure you got my monogamy germs. I didn’t want you to feel left out,” Cam says with a roar of laughter.
“I hate you.” Reed releases Cam, but not before pushing him to the ground.
“Don’t lie. You love me,” Cam sing-songs.
Grabbing my towel and leaving my friends to goof around, I head toward the showers on a mission.
After a quick wash and a change of clothes, I exit the locker room fresh and ready to do whatever Gwen wants.
I find her standing down the hall, wearing cutoff jean shorts, pink sneakers, and a white and pink Evaders jersey, looking all sexy with her long, lean legs on display. Legs I wish were wrapped around my head as I ate her pussy and made her come on my tongue.
The vision stokes a fire in my chest, and balls.
Get it together.
I watch Gwen gesticulate something with her hands as she laughs. Her hair sways to the side, revealing the name on her back: Montgomery.
What the hell? Taylor is the only name that should be on her back.
At least it’s not one of your teammates’ names, I tell myself.
Gwen switches position and turns to the side, giving me a view of the person she’s talking to. She’s chatting to Doug again. That pipsqueak needs to give up already. Gwen is mine.
When Gwen throws her head back and laughs, I snap.
Burning hot jealousy rips through me.
Sucking in deep breaths, I do my best to stay calm as I stomp over toward where Gwen stands, possessively placing my hand on her lower back as I approach.
“Sorry to interrupt this little … chat. But I need to have a word with our marketing manager. See you around, Dougie,” I say, dismissing him.
His eyes round like saucers as he lifts his hands up in surrender. “Of course. I was just leaving anyway. See you around, Gwen.”
“No, you won’t,” I grouse as the peon rushes away.
Gwen smacks me on the chest. “Oh my god, Lance, what is wrong with you?”
“What are you talking about?” I feign ignorance as I grip her small wrist in my hand, not letting her go.
“You were so rude to Doug.” Her words betray her body as she melts into me.
“Being rude would’ve been picking him up by his collar and chucking him down the hall. I was as polite as I could be.”
“You practically growled at him, and he didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He’s lucky all I did was growl because he is wrong for talking to you.”
Gwen grins and presses her perky tits into my chest, gripping my shirt in her fists. She tugs my face down to meet her beguiling aqua eyes. “Are you jealous, Mr. Taylor?”
I know this is the part where I’m supposed to say no and act all cool, like I’m not some dumb caveman jock. But fuck that.
My hands brace her lower back, pulling her impossibly closer. “Of course I’m jealous. I don’t want him to get any of your laughs or smiles. I want all of them for myself. I don’t want to share you with anyone. I want you all to myself.”
“You sweet Neanderthal.” Gwen lifts onto her toes and kisses my cheek, dousing the angry fire burning beneath my skin.
“I’m glad you think so.” I tug at the back of her shirt. “You look good.”
“Thanks. I went home to change before the game.”
“I like it. I would’ve liked it better if you had worn my name on your back. You are a Taylor, after all.”
Gwen bites her lip. “I don’t have a Taylor jersey.”
“There are 50 in our closet. You could’ve just grabbed one of those.”
“Does my wearing this bug you?” she asks, turning around to flash me her last name again.
I look around to make sure no one can hear me. “Yes, it bugs me. The only name on your back should be mine.”
I sound like such an asshole, but luckily it doesn’t bother Gwen. My wife smiles widely, like the mischievous vixen she is. “Next time, I’ll wear your jersey.”
A group of my teammates burst out of the locker room, laughing and causing a ruckus. Gwen jumps out of my arms, and it takes everything in me not to pull her back. I don’t care if anyone sees us, but she does, so I won’t fight her on it.
For now.
“Some of the guys were thinking of going to The Clubhouse for burgers. Want to join?” I hook my finger in her belt loop.
“Why, Lance, are you asking me out on a group date?” she asks.
Realization hits me like a blow to the nuts. I haven’t taken her out on a proper date, and we’ve been married for weeks.
I need to remedy that as soon as possible. Same with taking our relationships public. I want everyone to know Gwen is mine.
“Something like that. Want to go?” I tug her shorts, making her cheeks blush.
“I’m in.”
Side by side, Gwen and I head out of the stadium to meet the rest of my friends at the restaurant.