Oh. On the table.
I slid my bottom up onto the edge and wiggled back a little. Bennett unfastened the last button on his shirt and then undid his suit pants, pushing his boxer briefs down to the floor with them.
His smooth, rock-hard erection made me instinctively spread my legs a little farther. A corner of his mouth tugged up as he stroked himself and then put his hands on my knees, holding them apart.
I leaned back on my hands as he pushed into me.
“Shit,” I moaned. “So good.”
He put his hands on my hips, holding me in place as he rocked into me over and over. When his lips found mine, I tugged his lower one between my teeth frantically.
The building sensation inside me was powerful and deep. I let my head fall back, feeling both lost and found as every thrust of his hips brought me closer to the edge.
When I looked up and saw Bennett’s expression of pleasure, his lips slightly parted and his forehead glistening with sweat, I fell into a spiral of deep, heady satisfaction. He groaned loudly and I cried out his name as we came together. For a few seconds, he stayed buried deep inside me as he kissed me soft and slow.
I let out a breath as he pulled out of me, waves of bliss still rolling through me.
“Incredible,” he said softly.
“It was.”
The corner of his mouth tugged up slightly. “That, too, but I was talking about you, baby.”
“You’re pretty incredible yourself,” I said as he lifted me down from the table by the hips. “You put other men to shame.”
I felt a stirring in my belly, followed by a couple steady thumps.
“Oh!” I reached for Bennett’s hands and pressed them to my bump. “Just wait.”
There were two more thumps, and his eyes widened as a grin spread across his face. “I felt it. That’s him kicking?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes and left his hands in place, feeling our son’s movements for a full five minutes until they stopped.
“That was . . . wow,” he said, still smiling. “That’s our boy.”
I cradled my belly for a few seconds, feeling perfectly happy. Bennett put his boxer briefs back on and looked around the kitchen.
“Is that apple pie I smell?”
“Yes, I made one. You want some?”
“Hell yeah. I’m starving.”
“You give me that shirt and I’ll give you the pie.”
He slipped out of his unbuttoned dress shirt and passed it to me. I put it on, taking in the scent of his cologne as I buttoned it. By the time I was done, he was already at the kitchen counter with a fork in the pie.
“So good,” he said around a mouthful. “I didn’t know you could bake.”
I couldn’t help admiring the lines of his tall, muscular body that were on display as he ate the pie in his underwear. Stripping, kitchen-table sex, and post-orgasmic pie were all part of a new level of intimacy for me. And I liked it.
With a yawn, I took a bottle of water from the fridge. “You ready for bed or do you want to stay up and watch SportsCenter?”
“Watch it in bed?” he asked with another mouthful of pie.
“Perfect.”
“I’m about to eat this whole pie.”
“Go right ahead.” I kissed his apple-flavored lips. “I’ll meet you in bed.”
We were okay. He’d said the words earlier, but now I could feel it. And in this moment, it felt like all was right in my world.
Bennett
I pushed open the curtain to my stuffy bunk and looked out into the darkened interior of the bus.
“How long does it take to change a tire?” I grumbled to no one in particular.
“They couldn’t find the right size,” Liam said, not looking up from his phone.
I exhaled heavily and flopped back down onto my sweaty bunk sheet. The flat tire on our team bus meant I’d be getting home at nine AM instead of six AM. I wouldn’t be able to see Charlotte before she left for work.
It was midnight now, so I texted to let her know.
Me: Bus had a flat. Took three hours to change. Won’t be home til 9 now.
Charlotte: Damn.
Me: I know. Miss you.
Charlotte: Miss you too. Great game tonight.
Me: Thanks.
Charlotte: How are you?
Me: Okay, I guess. Tired.
Charlotte: Try to get some sleep.
Me: I can’t. The air’s off on the bus and it’s about 90 degrees in here. Smells like sweaty balls and armpits and Killian’s snoring in the bunk under mine.
Charlotte: Gross.
Me: Yeah. These long bus trips are getting old.
Charlotte: They’re all pretty long.
Me: Exactly.
Charlotte: You’ll be able to sleep when the bus is rolling again.
Me: I can’t stop thinking maybe it’s time to move on.
Charlotte: Move on from me???
Me: Never. I mean from hockey.
Charlotte: WHAT?!
Me: It’s a grind. I’m sore and tired all the time and lately I’m gone more nights than I’m home.
Charlotte: You’re working toward something bigger. You’ll travel by plane when you move up.
Me: That may never happen.
Charlotte: Don’t say that.