Chapter 50

Fifty

EMORY

I have never wanted to get home more than I do at this moment. My body is wrecked, and although we won and came back from our home loss, the team has been rowdy since climbing back onto the plane. All I want is to be at home with Scottie.

I've never looked forward to dressing up in an uncomfortable suit and spending my evening at a charity event, making small talk with businessmen and women with pockets larger than the majority of the country, but the fact that I get to have Scottie by my side in that sexy red dress has me counting down the seconds until we're landing on the runway.

As soon as the seatbelt light goes off and we're steadily flying toward Chicago, I stand from my seat and head to the back of the plane where it's quieter. Some of my teammates call me a grandpa, but I keep walking with my middle finger raised up high.

They all laugh. Even Coach Jacobs chuckles. When I get to the last row, away from the majority of them, I grab my phone and silently thank the National Hockey League's air program for putting Wi-Fi on their planes.

It's a shared jet between the teams, which is why we have to take off right after a game so someone else can use the plane, but at least we have Wi-Fi and don't have to fly commercial with fans pretending not to take candid photos of us.

You up?

Yes. Good game, Olson.

Where are you?

I grin.

On my way home to you.

Why does that make me so fucking excited, and why do I miss her? I was with her no less than ten hours ago. I've never missed anyone like I do her.

Why? Miss me?

I wait like a child on Christmas morning with my phone in my hand. I'm twenty-six years old and hanging on a woman's every last word via text message.

Who am I?

I wouldn't admit it if I did.

I chuckle while typing.

I'll take that as a yes.

Her next text surprises me.

Do you miss me?

I have no problem admitting that I miss her.

I miss you when you're across the room from me.

It's not a lie. It's the truth, even if I've yet to say that out loud.

You do not.

It doesn't surprise me that she doesn't believe it. I swear something has happened in her life that made her insecure. What makes her think I wouldn't miss her? I miss everything about her. I bet anyone who has come into contact with her misses her presence the second she's gone. Scottie leaves her mark on everyone, even if she doesn't realize it.

I miss everything about you. I miss your snarky comebacks that keep me on my toes. I miss the way you roll your eyes at me when you think my back is turned. I miss watching you sink your teeth into a biscotti and how your lips wrap around the rim of your coffee mug in the morning.

I hit send, and my heart beats so loudly I can't even hear the rumble of the plane's engine.

I become irrationally angry when I reread her text. I'm about to make it my sole purpose to show her how much I miss her after every away game.

Hell, maybe I'll show her how much I miss her when I'm just at practice for a few hours.

Wait until I get home. I'll show you how much I miss you then.

I can't decide if that's a threat or not.

A line of desire zips down to my groin, and I adjust myself in my sweats. I quickly swipe out of our texts and pull up my camera app. Bouncing through all the camera angles, I finally find her in our bed with one of my T-shirts on. There's a bunch of papers and envelopes off to the side, and the TV must be on, because I see the glow of the screen flickering over her face.

I quickly swipe the video of her to the side and share the screen with my texts.

Nice shirt.

She smiles at first, but then her smile falls, and she flicks her gaze to the camera.

You're being a creep.

Not unless you start to do something naughty. Maybe I'm just being protective. Making sure you're okay.

I glance at my dick. Its rigid appearance has nothing to do with it.

I already took care of that. ??

And I'm perfectly safe inside the house. Shutter will protect me.

I swallow my thick spit and slouch farther in my seat so none of the guys up front can look back and see the desire on my face.

You better not have taken care of that.

And I'm the only one who's going to protect you.

I'll protect Shutter too, since he means so much to her.

I press on my dick to make it stop throbbing.

I'm the only one who's going to take care of you too.

Could I be any more possessive? Fucking Christ.

The thought of anyone taking care of her sends me to the edge, though.

Which is completely unhinged.

Says who?

I drag my attention to the little video beside my texts and clench my jaw. The blankets are flung off to the side, and all the papers and envelopes that were scattered around her have disappeared. Her legs call to me, and when she pulls up the T-shirt, I nearly die.

Stop it.

Stop what? Surely you're not telling me I can't touch my own body.

I swear to God.

She will regret this when I get home.

With her shirt pulled up high enough that I can see her panties, I start to sweat.

You know I don't like to be bossed around.

You know what? I think you do. I bet you're so fucking wet at the thought of me watching you on the camera. Want me to tell you what to do too?

Please say yes.

I glance at the clock. Thirty minutes until we land. Fifteen-minute bus ride to my car.

So, one hour tops until I get to her.

I'm a patient man. I can wait.

Scottie doesn't text back, and I wish I could call her so fucking bad so I could hear her hot breaths, but with other ears a little too close for comfort, this will have to do.

Slip those panties off. Let me see you.

My mouth dries when she follows my command. This woman surprises me every single day. What I wouldn't do to grab her blonde locks and pull her head back so I could kiss her.

When her panties are off to the side, I send her another text.

Good girl.

Scottie's teeth sink into her lip, and I curse under my breath.

Spread for me.

She hesitates. I watch her gaze fly to the camera when her bottom lip plops out from her teeth.

Don't be shy. I'm your husband. Let me see how perfect you are.

Because she is. I wonder if she knows that. Surely whoever she's been with before me has told her so.

A tug of possession grips me by the throat, and I'm suddenly typing faster than I ever have.

Spread wider. If I were there, I'd be pushing on the inside of your thigh before I run my finger up to touch that throbbing little clit.

I watch with rapt attention as she drags her finger up her leg and stops right at her sweet spot. Her other hand disappears under the shirt, and I know she's playing with her nipple, just like I want to do with my teeth.

I'd be inside of you within seconds, if I were there, to prove to you that I am the only one who can take care of you like this.

My core twists with need the longer I watch her. I type another text with shaky fingers.

Don't come.

I'm selfish as fuck. I would give up my life to feel her underneath me, withering from pleasure. I want to be the only one to make her come. I want my name to be the only name on her lips when she's filled to the brim.

Scottie lazily looks up at the camera, and if I could zoom in on her face, I bet her eyes are lust-filled and hazy.

I'll be home in thirty. Be ready.

I click my phone off.

If I stare at her any longer, I'm afraid I'll come right here, and I will be damned if I don't fuck my wife tonight and prove to her that she's mine.