21. Wound Up

Tucker played lousy in the third game of the playoffs in New York and the team lost. Not just because of him, because the entire team couldn't make that little black disk go into a net to save their lives. It's the best out of seven games, though, and tomorrow is another chance for them to redeem themselves.

Although a sports analyst I will never be, I discover hockey players could be so sexy on ice, bulking up in all those pads. I might be growing a slight addiction to the sport. And to him.

"I fucking missed you," Tucker says, picking me up for a kiss the second he's inside my door. He's back from New York, so he stops by for a while before heading to practice. I resist the urge to wrap my legs around him, instantly responding with a gush of wetness in my panties.

"Mm. Me, too." My body catches on fire, but I tamp it down. "There's Remy, though. We can't just rush off to bed anytime urges strike."

He growls, but agrees. "Well, I missed him, too. I brought him back an I heart NYC t-shirt for his growing collection."

"How many does a kid need?"

"I don't know. But I have probably a hundred in my dresser."

I laugh and tease. "And you are a big kid." I pull him into the family room and announce his arrival. "Remy? Dada's here."

Our son goes to him right away with a bright smile, hands held up to be picked up. I fight back a tear because they only spent less than twenty-four hours together and yet Remy knows Tucker is his person.

I think Tucker is mine, too. Scary.

We talk and laugh, playing ball, of course, Remy's favorite thing. Tucker steals kisses from me behind his back. Then once he goes down for a nap in his nursery, all bets are off.

We tear each other's clothes off on the way to my room. The excitement fuels and builds a raw need between us. I'm losing myself in him. Our hands are everywhere.

"Oh. I almost forgot to bring the baby monitor in," I say, parting from his deep kisses, but he yanks be back.

"Stay. I'll get it."

I grin and moan watching his sexy, naked ass hurry from the room. Upon re-entry, his thick, veiny cock protrudes like a monster approaching me. And I desire every inch of him.

He brought in our armful of clothes from the hallway, too, and tosses them down. In quick fashion, he sets the monitor on the nightstand then gets into my bed. He flips me around into a sixty-nine position and his mouth latches onto my clit like a vacuum, flicking wildly at it with his tongue before I've had a chance to adjust.

"Oh!" My breath leaves my body in pants, as he chases my orgasm hard and fast. "Fuck, Tucker. Slow down," I warn, my legs shaking their warning, too. He ignores me and so does my core, grinding against his tongue because it's never had it so good.

"I can't, baby. I'm too wound up needing you. Now be a good girl and wrap your lips around my cock."

"Mm," I moan and round my mouth over him, letting his thick member disappear down my throat and back out. My tongue runs circles around his head, then I gasp at his fingers entering me, pumping me, while his mouth never lets up the suction on my clit.

The hockey god came to play, all business, trying to score on me with record speed. Well, two can play at that game.

I add my hand with my mouth, wrapping around his length, following each other up and down his pole with an expertise I don't know I possess.

He's into it, too, judging by his groans and growls, and fuck yes slipping from his mouth and spoken into my pussy. His thick thighs and hips join in, pulsing his cock into my throat, and we get into a furious rhythm.

Our bodies tangle together, working in tandem to get each other off and I want more of this. I need more. With him. And more time to explore every possible way we can please each other.

From the strokes and curve of his fingers, to the bold swipes of his tongue, I'm wildly on the edge, spinning out of control. I force my throat open wider, taking him deeper, and curling my hand tighter around him in faster strokes.

"Jesus, fucking sexy woman. You have me close. Come with me, baby," he begs. I'm already there.

Vibrations of pleasure ripple through me, and my thighs tighten on his face. His tongue laps at me, drinking it all up, while his own release comes with a savage grunt, spilling his seed into my throat. I suck at him softly, milking every drop.

I fall limp upon him, with only the strength to slide off onto my back at his side, my chest heaving for air.

He twists around, on his back, bringing me into him. I lounge halfway on top of him, draping a leg over his thigh. My ear to his chest, the healthy beating of his heart eventually lulls me into a light stupor.

I dream of more days and nights with him like this, but there's something always there that triggers my worries. A little girl hiding beneath the surface, like she's too afraid of being loved this good.