Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
Now he’s knocking on my prostate with every single thrust. Stefan is so deep inside of me now that he is a part of me.
My eyes meet his in this moment, so close to the edge as we are together. Through all of the dominant force he’s exuding on me, I see a flicker of sweetness in his eyes that betrays all of that tough-guy act he’s putting on.
Yeah, underneath all the growling and manliness, Stefan is a big ol’ softie.
I knew it all along.
And his eyes pour with adoration. And mine pour with all that love right back at him. I can’t get enough of this man who plunged right into my life and, in more ways than one, never let me go all these years.
I’m seconds away.
He’s right there with me.
Together, we come so hard that now we’re both out of control of our lungs. Hollering out, he empties into me as I empty all over my chest. Shouts are replaced with grunts, then moans, then the desperate rush and pull of breath as he collapses over me, uniform and all. We hold each other tightly after that as we bask together in the rippling, glorious afterglow.
It must be ten whole minutes later before either of us speaks. “I think you made the team,” he mumbles.
“Come again?”
“Yeah. Your performance is stellar,” he informs me. “You’ve made the team.”
I chuckle underneath him, hugging him tighter. “The only team I want to be on is yours. Just you and me.”
He lifts his head up to look down at me—his eye black slightly smeared and his backwards hat cockeyed. “Just you and me,” he agrees with a lopsided smile.
I kiss him softly. “I love you, Stefan.”
“Right back at you.” Then he tilts his head thoughtfully. “Y’know, I think I might go back to college. Finish my degree.”
I smile up at him. “Wearing that uniform’s taken you back to college, huh?”
“Maybe I’ll even open up a renovation business.” He eyes me. “You’ll have to help me come up with a name.”
I kiss him again, unable to get enough of his lips. Naked and covered in sweat underneath Stefan’s muscles and tight baseball pants and breath, I still shiver from the aftershocks of orgasm.
“Whatever you name it, it’ll be a homerun,” I assure him.
“Hey, that’s a good start,” he teases. “Homerun Houses.”
“Call it whatever you want,” I say back, “as long as I get to come home to you drenched in sweat every day from work.”
“Now that, I can guarantee.” Then he seals the promise with another deep kiss. I close my eyes and let his lips take me away.
EPILOGUE
STEFAN
FOUR YEARS LATER
“You’re going to be the big man on campus,” I tell Rudy in the backseat as the truck rumbles down the highway. “No one’s gonna mess with you.”
He smirks and looks over at Ryan, who just shrugs and tries not to laugh. Ryan, sweet as he is, didn’t want Rudy sitting back there by himself, especially since we banned the parents from helping today due to Mom’s incessant crying about her baby leaving the nest. I see them through the rearview. Boy, they’ve gotten awful chummy over the years.
“The hell you two snickering about back there?” I call out.
“Oh, nothing … Dad,” mumbles Rudy, inspiring a hearty laugh from Ryan, who then promptly slaps a hand over his mouth to shut himself up.
I roll my eyes and shake my head, a smile breaking over my face. “I only hover because I care about you. You know that, and yet still you make fun of your big brother. Just be glad it isn’t Mom and Dad moving you into your dorm. Then you’d get tears and blubbering.” I lift my eyes to the rearview to meet his. “You aren’t getting any tears from me.”
Rudy snorts, then scratches his mouth to mask the fact that he’s trying not to laugh. His long hair—twice as shaggy as it was four years ago—blows around and dances in the air rushing in through the rolled down windows of the truck.
I meet Ryan’s eyes next. He gives me a knowing look, then winks my way. I flash my teeth and wink back, inspiring a bit of blush to creep over his cheeks. Still got it.
He’s just excited because after we get Rudy all set up in his dorm, we’re going out to celebrate the third year of my business taking off. Homerun Houses. I guess the first try was the charm as far as names were concerned. The little bit of clout I still clung to from being a former minor league player actually connected me to a local big wig, who needed his kitchen gutted and redone for his wife. Homerun Houses gave him the best damned kitchen he’s ever seen, and just from the explosion of praise and connections I made after that fortuitous happenstance, my business was put on the map. I’ve gotten so many new clients ever since that I’ve had to hire a whole crew of men and women to assist me in all the work.