Chapter 36

chapter 36

brYCE

When I opened the note in my locker, I scanned for the signature first. Rusti. And I knew she wasn’t breaking my heart—she would mend it.

The last five days have had me in a chokehold, barely able to breathe. But today, when Roman took out the Viper who flipped me over his back, I began to breathe. We talked about the scuffle with his former best friend and ex-wife, and he thanked me for stepping in and how he loves being a Jet.

Even though I want desperately to be with Emmaline and kiss the fuck out of her, there’s something I need to do first. I waltz into the interview room.

Reporters are shouting my name, “Wynward, how does your head feel? Kissing your glove and pounding your heart after the score… who was that for?”

The questions go on and on. “Listen, I’ll answer all your questions, but I have one thing to say before, and it will all make sense.” I pause and lean up to the microphone, as I roll up the sleeves of my dress shirt. “Next year, I’ll be a free agent, and the only way I’ll stay in an Atlanta Jet uniform is if Roman Rustavelli is part of this team. Cross and I need to know that someone has our back, and he’s proven that he’ll protect us, and we’ll protect him.”

“You’d really leave?”

“I would. I’ve had a great run, and I love Atlanta but if he gets cut from the team because he had my back, I don’t want to be part of the organization. He has a no-fighting clause, and he made a choice to protect his teammate and the person who loves his sister.”

Grins spread across the women reporters’ faces.

“In my book, that’s the very definition of a teammate and a brother.”

Tears fill my eyes.

“If you all don’t mind, I need to get my girl.”

“So, your girlfriend is Rustavelli’s sister?”

“My publicist will set up an interview time, and I’ll answer everything.”

One would think a car that can go 180 mph would suffice, but my Mustang can’t get there fast enough. Or it’s the Atlanta traffic. All I want is to look in her eyes and hear her say she wants a life with Jolie and me.

I shove the gear shift into park, and the car jerks as I hop out. She opens the door and runs into my arms. I wrap her up and swing her around .

“Five days is too long to go without you,” I rasp into her ear. She smells like flowers when I bury my nose into her hair.

Her laughter drifts through the air as she clings to me. “Way too long. I missed you.” She looks at me with tears in her eyes, and the moment becomes heavy. With her back facing the door, I carry her into the house and close the door with my back.

Her lips curve into a seductive smile. “Is Bryce Wynward ready for make-up sex?”

“Never had make-up sex. Is it good?” I ask as I claim her mouth.

“Mmmmm. We’ll see.”

I love it when she gets naughty. I turn the deadbolt and throw her over my shoulder to her bedroom. When her feet hit the ground, she shimmies out her jeans and damn, I love how her ass pops out. Her round globes make me want to rub my dick between them. Emmaline spins on her toes, pushes through each button on my blue dress shirt, and rakes it with her deft fingers off my shoulders.

“So many things I want to do to you and for you.”

“You are a giver.” She snakes her hands over my abs, up my chest, and lands on my face.

I swivel her around so I can see her reflection in the mirror. “Why did you pick tonight to wear my jersey?” I ask as my hand wanders over her thigh. “I’ve dreamt of you in my jersey, watching you chant my name and number.”

“Number nine, Wynward!” She shakes her butt, rubbing it over the erection dying to be let out of the confines of clothes, but I want to watch her fall apart by my hands. “What are you going to do with sexy little me? ”

So damn sexy.” I might shoot my load just looking at her ass peeking out my jersey.

I wrap my jersey around my hand and pull her red lace panties up as high as I can. With my calloused fingers and red lace, I skid and glide through her folds until the sloshing begins. “Do you like my rough fingers?”

She’s already breathless when she says, “Yes, keep pulling on my panties; it… it feels so good.” I drop down, spreading her cheeks, and lick with the flat of my tongue through the slick, wet, honey-scented folds. She pushes her ass out, seeking more friction.

“Don’t stop.”

There’s no chance I would stop until she’s climaxed on my tongue. And as soon as I think it, her body quivers, and she gushes. I push my pants down, and my erection pops out on her ass. Like it knows exactly where it’s going. I use her arousal to coat my dick and slide through her backside.

“Look at you… in my jersey. Number nine. Fucking sexy.” She looks over shoulder once again. Her face flushes, and her head falls back.

“Show me what you’ve been doing at night while thinking about me,” I say.

I look at her in the mirror as she slips her hand down her panties.

“Press harder and faster.” She follows my commands as I move her hair to expose her neck to nip and suck my way down her porcelain skin. “So perfect.”

When I can’t stand it anymore, I snap the panties off with one pull. And I slip into her smoking-hot center. Home. This is what home feels like. With one hand on the mirror, I use the other to guide our movements. The slapping of our skin. The fire when I’m buried inside her and the cool air feels like ice when I pull out before seating myself all the way inside her.

“You’re never taking off my jersey. I love seeing my name on your back.”

“I could… get… Wynward tattooed… across my shoulders.” She takes a deep breath. “Ahhhh. Yes!” she screams, then the same words fall from her lips a little quieter each time until she grabs me by the waist, pulling my chest into her back. “Right there. Yes.”

Her body clenches around me, and I feel her blood pulsing through her velvety strong muscles.

“I love you, Rusti. I love you, Emmaline. Only God knows how much I love you,” I say on repeat as I coax every drop from her.

She looks at my reflection. My lips are swollen from sucking on her skin. My eyes are hooded with desire. “I love you, Bryce Wynward. I want to be a family with you and Jolie.”

I watch my smile become an ear-splitting grin. “Are you asking me to marry you, Rusti?” My eyes twinkle like Santa Claus.

“When you’re ready, I want to be your wife and Jolie’s stepmom,” she admits.

I can’t breathe. As much as I’ve thought about Emmaline being in my life, I hadn’t thought about asking her to marry me yet.

Using her line, I wink and say, “We’ll see.”

She playfully smacks me, then she guides me to the bed and lies on her back. “Make love to me and see if it helps you decide. ”

I love this side of her. Now that she knows how much I love her, she doesn’t need alcohol to come out of her shell. To think I almost lost her. To me, it felt like I did lose her. Five days without hearing her voice and only a few texts.

“Emmaline, this body of yours is mine. Your dreams are mine,” I say as I hover over her, my lips ghosting hers.

She digs her fingers into my ass, moving me, giving herself the pleasure she craves. I rock into her and roll my hips so that I never come out but stay seated inside her. I brush a glimmering red strand stuck on her lips away, and everything fades away. I let my body weight fall against her, savoring the scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against mine, and her breath on my cheek as we whisper words of love and encouragement.

“Perfect.”

“The best.”

“Mine.”

She caresses my face and says words that make me whole, “You’re all I’ll ever need.”

My erection twitches, and I blow hot lava inside her. Two bodies on fire. I roll her on top of me. Her phone is on the nightstand, and it lights up. “Your password is my brother’s birthday. I always dread his birthday.”

“Now, we can celebrate him on his birthday. He brought you to the club that night. You wouldn’t have been there if it weren’t for him. He was showing you that there’s someone who can mend your broken heart.”

“I just wish my brother would have told me to get your number or your real name before we snuck out.”

“But then we wouldn’t be here in this moment. This May, we’ll do something he loved on his birthday. What did he like other than hockey?”

“Girls.”

“No, no more girls. I’m it. I’m enough.”

“You are.” I stroke her hair, our eyes shackled together. “You’re all I’ll ever need too.”