"I was making sure you were safe," he says, giving me a what-did-I-do-wrong look. "I mean, I did a crap job of that. If I'd have been looking out for you during the day, I could have followed you to the athletic center and – damn it, Cassie, I don't want to watch you through a window."
"Great. It's super that you don't want to creep around outside my bedroom window."
He pauses and takes a deep breath, his wide chest expanding even more. "I'm telling you that I don't think there's any other explanation for the fact that there's been a giant knot in my stomach for the past two weeks other than I'm in love with you. Plus, I want you around all the damn time. When I'm not around you, everything sucks. So I'm in love with you and that's all there is to it. You're just going to have to live with it."
"You have such a way with words," I say, as he picks me up and carries me to the back of the truck.
"Please," he grunts. "Your 'I love you' speech wasn't any more eloquent than mine."
He hoists me up into the truck bed and I scoot backward across the mattress, my back on the pillows. Colton crawls over me, his face above mine, and his cock goes between my legs immediately.
"Eloquent," I say. "Big word."
"Learned from the best," he murmurs.
This time, when he enters me, he takes his time. His eyes lock on mine and they never waver as he rocks slowly inside of me. I think I could stay like this forever and be happy. My heart feels like it's going to burst.
When I finally come, after he's fucked me until I'm a puddle of mush, it's with his hands on mine, fingers interlaced, looking at him. When he comes, it's with "You're Mine" on his lips.
* * *
"Oh hell," Colton groans before we even open the door. "I know that voice. Brace yourself."
Doreen's laugh is audible even through the front door, and I hear Tank's and Sable's muted voices.
"It's about time!" Doreen calls. "There's food on the table. Breakfast for dinner!"
There's a cornucopia of food on the table, to be precise. A stack of pancakes a mile high, mountains of eggs, bacon, and sausage, and enough pastries to open a bakery. Colton puts his hands on my hips, pulling me back against him, and whispers in my ear. "You already had sausage, didn't you?"
"Shut up," I hiss, slapping his hand. "Your mother is right there."
"Get in here and eat before all of this gets cold," Doreen gestures to us to join them as Tank and Sable pull out folding chairs around two card tables set up in the living room. Our kitchen table is definitely too small to host this spread. I'm half-expecting Tank's folding chair to collapse underneath him. Are folding chairs rated for football player weight or do they make special steel-reinforced ones just for them?
"Eat up, boys," Doreen orders. "You need stamina for the game." She eyeballs Colton. "And if you're going to give me grandchildren."
"And, there it is," Colton says.
I choke on the sip of orange juice I'd just taken.
Doreen spears a pancake with a fork and puts it on my plate like she didn't just mention Colton impregnating me. "I always tell the boys to wear condoms, but that doesn't apply to you anymore, Colton."
Sable giggles and Tank snorts. Beside me, Colton grumbles. "Shit, ma. It was awkward enough when you were sending me condoms in the mail. Telling me not to wear them is over the line."
"I'm just saying that you can't go wrong with a nice little accidental pregnancy," she says.
I think the bite of pancake I just took went right down the wrong pipe. I'm going to aspirate on pancake in the middle of dinner.
"No more, ma," Colton says in his I-mean-business voice.
"I'm glad the two of you are together, that's all I'm getting at. And you two, too!" she adds, with a glance at Tank and Sable. "Lord knows why it took you weeks to get over that stupid argument about the thesis," she says with a sigh. "If he's ever that stubborn in the future, Cassie, you can send him right back to me for an attitude check."
A laugh bubbles up in the bottom of my throat. "Yes, ma'am."
"Traitor," Colton whispers. He reaches down and squeezes my thigh.
47
Colton
Nine Years Later
"Can I take over here?" I hear my wife's voice from a foot away and look over from where I'm lying on the massage table to see her talking to the masseuse who's been working on me for the past hour.
"What are you doing here?" I ask, my voice low. We're in the training room, only a curtain to separate us from the rest of the room where there are other players getting taped up, being massaged, or taking ice baths. "Don't you have papers to grade? Why is your hair in pigtails, Dr. King?"
Cassie shrugs. "I'll do the ol' random grade assignment thing," she jokes, even though she wouldn't do anything like that. I know how seriously she takes her job as a university professor. She's up for tenure this year, and she's anything except careless with her work.
She doesn't respond to the pigtail question. Instead, she leans over me, her hands moving across my lower back. "Roll over."
I flip over onto my back, my head turned toward her as she runs her hand over my chest and down my abs.
And my cock is immediately rock hard.