Chapter 50 Spencer Nash

There's My Wife

Four Months After the Wedding

The sex on Friday night was slow and steady—and amazing. We had light practice yesterday ahead of today's game, so I was able to give her a little more action last night, and hopefully tonight after a win, I'll be ready to celebrate.

Preseason games don't really matter, but we're competitors at heart. I don't want to fuck up my debut on a new team, so I'm laser-focused on playing today. And Grace seemed to understand that.

I gave her the rundown of when to take the Uber from my place and where to go once she gets to the stadium. She said she's too nervous to watch from my private suite, potentially with members of her favorite band, so she bought her own ticket to the game.

She gave me her section and row number, and I can't wait to look for her in the stands.

In fact, as soon as I get out onto the field for warm-ups, I take a lap around the field and look for the section Grace is sitting in.

And I spot her immediately .

She's wearing a black jersey with a silver number seventeen on it.

It feels like something snaps inside me.

That's my wife.

The thought immediately races through my mind when I spot her. She's grinning and waving wildly, and I raise a hand to wave back to her. And then I bring my hand to a rest over my heart.

It's my silent way of sending love up to the stands, and it suddenly feels like tonight should be the night I finally say the words.

Except…she leaves tonight. She has to get back to the vineyard, and I don't want her to go.

I want her to stay here with me.

I force my focus back to the game, something I'm admittedly pretty good at doing. I focus on each stretch as I warm up, and before I know it, the game is starting.

I play for almost the entire first quarter, and the defender covering me isn't letting up. I try out all my new moves to get away from him, but it's tight coverage. I'm able to break away for one good catch toward the end of the quarter, and Coach pulls me out when the second quarter begins.

The good news is it means he wants to keep me healthy to start me during the season. The bad news is it also means I don't get to play for the rest of the game.

Grace is waiting for me in the family area outside our locker room after my first victory with my new team. I'm freshly showered and ready to take her back to my place for a couple hours before she catches the last flight out tonight, and the moment I spot her, my heart warms in my chest.

She's smiling as I stride across the room toward her. "I'm so proud of you. You were amazing!" she says, and I drop my lips to hers.

"I love you," I say.

She gasps as she pulls back and looks into my eyes. She searches them for a beat, and when she seems to find what she's looking for, she says, "I love you, too. This whole thing…I don't think it was ever fake for me, Spencer. "

Hearing those words out of her mouth does something to me. She's not just my wife in name only anymore.

Those words signify that she's mine.

And I plan to take care of what's mine…starting with giving her the kind of pleasure she's never felt before the second I get her home.

We walk hand-in-hand out to my car, and there aren't any paparazzi down in the player parking lot because they aren't allowed down here. There aren't any in my parking garage at the apartment complex, either, and we take the elevator up to my penthouse without anyone shoving any cameras in our faces or asking misleading questions to plant doubt in the other's mind.

The second the front door shuts behind me, I lock it, and then I'm on her. My mouth slams down to hers, and she reacts with a surprised gasp as the urgency I feel wraps around her, too. I shove my hips against hers, and as I kiss her, I walk her backwards toward the guest room.

I'd take her to my room, but I have a king-size bed in there, and my plan requires the smaller queen with the four posts in the corners. I brought my supplies over a few nights ago as I anticipated what I wanted to do with her in all the rooms of my apartment this weekend, and since I didn't have a hard practice today and didn't play much of the game, my body is recovered enough to have the kind of sex I've been craving with her.

The slow and steady kind is fantastic…but I want something that's going to blow us both away.

And tonight is the night for that.

I back her into the room, and only then do I pull back. "Strip," I demand.

She looks caught off guard. "What?"

"You heard me." There's a sitting chair in the corner of the room, and I walk over to it. I sit, hit play on my music and chill playlist, which is obviously code for sex music, and set my phone on the side table as the perfect Doja Cat song fills the room.

She looks like she has absolutely no idea what to do, and my lips turn up in a bit of a smile as I wait for her .

"Take off your clothes," I say gently, rather than the single-word demand of a moment ago. Maybe nobody has ever worshiped her body the way I'm about to, which is a damn shame. She deserves the fucking world, and I'm going to be the man who does everything he can to make sure she gets it.

And, if nothing else, she'll have the kind of orgasm that will live rent-free in her mind for the rest of time.

She kicks off her shoes and rolls her socks off, and then she takes a tentative step toward me. "I, um…I don't really know—"

I hold up a hand since she's fumbling here. "Don't be shy with me, Grace. It's just you and me, okay? You're my wife, and I want to watch my wife take off her clothes for me."

"Can I have a shot of something first?" she asks.

I chuckle. "Of course." I get up, shift my rock-hard cock, and head toward the kitchen for a bottle of tequila. Memories of the night we got married wash over me since that was probably the last time I drank tequila.

I bring the bottle back and hand it over, and she unscrews the cap and takes a swig before handing it to me. I take a swig, too, and I set the bottle and the cap on the table beside me.

She nods a little, snagging her bottom lip between her teeth. She really has no idea how goddamn sexy she is.

She's timid as she unbuttons her jeans and starts to push them down her legs.

"Yes, baby," I murmur my approval. "Just like that."

My words seem to give her a tiny confidence boost. She starts moving in time to the music without realizing it, and she gently sways as she reaches for the bottom of the jersey bearing my last name and the number I've worn for over two decades.

I almost want her to leave the jersey on. I want to fuck her in it. But I'll save that for another time. Tonight, it's all about her pleasure—even if she doesn't feel that way right now since she started out intimidated to do this little striptease for me. She seems less timid, though—maybe from the shot of tequila, which is starting to do its work, or maybe from my words of encouragement.

She pulls the jersey off and tosses it on the floor beside her .

"Fuck yes," I murmur. "Look at that gorgeous body."

She walks toward me and grabs the bottle for a second shot, and then she does a little twirl in front of me in her bra and panties after she slams the bottle back on the side table.

My dick is painfully hard as I force myself to maintain some semblance of control. I grip the arms of the chair, my knuckles turning white as I watch her dance in front of me. She straddles one of my legs, and I feel the heat of her pussy through her panties as she rubs it on my leg.

She reaches up with her hands and palms the sides of her tits, pushing them together for me to make a line of cleavage that I want to dip my face into.

God, I love her. I fucking love everything about her, from her quiet demeanor to her intelligent mind to her kind heart to her beautiful face to the perfect body that she's currently using to turn me all the way on.

She pulls back off me and sways to the beat of Doja Cat as she hooks a finger into the side of her panties. She's teasing me now, pretending she's going to pull them off, and I love the change in her confidence. I want her to be able to do this without the tequila, but since we have it here, it gives me another idea anyway.

She moves her finger from her panties and instead teases me with her bra as she lowers one of the straps. She doesn't take it off, instead sliding her palms up to cup her tits on the sides again, and then she slowly trails her hands down to her hips.

Fuck.

I can't take it anymore. I need to be inside her, but I have plans. I don't know how much longer I can last. She's driving me absolutely to the brink of need.

I dart up from my chair and reach around her with one hand, easily unclasping her bra. I slide it down her other arm until her tits are exposed to me, and rather than throwing it on the floor, I leave it there so she's slightly bound by it. I run my palms up her back as I pull her closer to me, and she lets out a small gasp when she feels my cock brush against her leg.

Fuck, I need relief. I move my hips against her leg, dying for some friction, but it's not enough.

I look down at her, and she's looking up at me, and Jesus, that look in her eyes is enough to fucking kill a man. Her eyes are full of need, desire… love , and I feel it too. All of it. It's heated and sensual as we prepare to share something new together for the first time—sex after the words that seal in a commitment to one another.

I let go of her only to grab her into my arms and toss her roughly on the bed. She squeaks out a moan, and I use her bra that's already around one of her arms and twist it to securely tie it around one of the bedposts. I make quick work with a silk tie, tying her other wrist to the other bedpost before she even knows what I'm doing. Her arms are spread out for me, and I work on her legs next.

"What are you doing?" she asks quietly.

"Tying you up so I can fuck you until you can't see straight," I say as I get her second leg tied to the bottom bedpost. "Is that okay with you?"

"Oh, God, yes," she moans, closing her eyes as I brush a thumb across one of her nipples. "But I want to touch you."

"Oh, you will," I say. "Later. First, we do you."

"Mm," is her only reply as I suck her nipple into my mouth.

I reach down toward her pussy spread out for me, sliding a finger into her without preamble. She cries out, shifting her arms up instinctively to try to wrap them around me, the ties preventing her from being able to move.

"Ugh!" she cries out in a bit of frustration, but it's a hot, needy sort of frustration, and I can tell she likes this already from how fucking wet that cunt is for me.

As painful as it is, I draw it out. I take my time with each of her tits, sucking on her nipples until they've formed tight peaks for me, and I slowly move my finger in and out of her, careful to avoid her clit since I know how sensitive she is right now and I don't want her to come yet.

Her hips start to sway, and her knees bend a bit, but she's too spread out and tied up to move into whatever position she's trying to get into. "God, Spencer, please," she whines.

"Please what?" I ask. My voice is raspy and filled with need .

"Fuck me. Please fuck me." Her voice is a breathless plea, and I don't know if I've ever heard anything hotter in my entire life.

"I will," I murmur.

I move my finger out of her, and I stand. She opens her eyes to watch me slide into her, but it's not my plan. Yet.

Instead, I walk over toward the side table by the chair and grab the bottle of tequila. I take another swig, and I walk over to her. I pour a shot into her mouth, and she swallows with a loud gulp.

I pour a trail of the liquid from her sternum all the way down to her pubic bone. I'm still fully clothed, so I slip quickly out of my clothes before I move over her backward, straddling her face as I push my cock between her lips. She moans as she sucks on me, and I lick my way down the tequila trail from her tits to her pussy. I carefully push my hips toward her mouth and pull back out. She can't move to fist me while she sucks on me, and her mouth is pure magic all by itself.

I'm not going to last long, and I'm not here for a blow job, anyway. I push in a few more times, fucking her mouth until I'm far too close to coming, and then I pull out. I'm not ready to end this pleasure just yet, and half the fun of it is the anticipation of release.

I flip back around until I'm centered between her legs, and I lick through her sweet pussy. She lets out a low moan followed by, "Yes, yes, yes."

I lick her clit before moving my tongue down to dip inside her, and her moans get louder and louder as she moves closer and closer to her orgasm. I replace my tongue with a finger as I move my mouth back up to focus on her clit, and she starts to cry out. "I'm going to come! Oh, God, Spencer! I'm coming!"

She screams, and I know she wants to dig her fingers into my hair and clamp her knees against my ears, but the ties prevent it. Her body reacts violently as she pulls against her restraints, but the ties do their job of holding her down—even the unconventional tie with her bra.

Her hips twist and shift as her body contracts over and over, and I hold on tight to ride out the wave with her, my tongue continuing to assault her sensitive clit. She starts to come down, and that's when I move quickly off her and slide my cock into her warm, waiting cunt.

I let out a low growl at how tight she feels after that first orgasm. Fuck, this isn't going to last long.

"Oh, God!" she screams, tossing her head back. "I'm not ready!"

"Open your eyes," I demand, stilling inside her. She seems to force them open to focus on me. "You feel so goddamn good, baby," I murmur. "You're ready. You can take it."

"Mm, yes," she says as I pull back, giving us both a little of the friction we need. "Give it to me."

I sway my hips slowly into her, letting her adjust after her first orgasm. "You have no idea how much I needed to be inside you. Fuck, that striptease, the way you look all tied up, the way you obey. The way you come. It's incredible. You are incredible."

"I love you, Spencer. I love you so much," she cries, and tears start to fall from her eyes.

I'm afraid I've hurt her, so I slow my movements.

"Fuck me!" she demands, practically screaming at me.

"God, I love you, too, Grace," I rasp, and then I start to hammer into her as the sacred words fill the air between us.

Her tits shake back and forth between us as she rolls her neck back. I drop my lips there, kissing her neck as I push in, thrust after glorious thrust.

Her moans start to ascend into louder, needier shrieks as she moves toward her second orgasm, and I feel my balls tighten as the need echoes through my veins.

"Yes, Spencer! Yes, right there!"

The words send me into my own release as the pleasure rockets through me. My cock pulses, each pulse sending another jet of come into her sweet pussy as it starts contracting over me, milking every pulse from my body.

I give her every last drop as she fights her way through the wave, and then together, we seem to float back down to Earth, both of us breathless as we try to regain our breath back here in reality .

I stay inside her for a few beats, and when I pull out, I make quick work of untying her. Her arms are immediately around my neck as she starts to cry in earnest, and guilt immediately rockets through me.

"What's wrong?" I ask softly as I cradle her against me.

She tries to draw in a shaky breath, but she can't seem to catch it to answer me. I just hold her to me, afraid I've done everything wrong tonight, afraid I stepped over some line or hurt her in some way.

"Are you okay?" I ask, my voice full of desperation.

"Yes," she pants through her tears. Eventually the tears subside, and she swallows hard as she's finally able to speak. "I'm sorry. That was…whoa. It was just emotional. I've never felt like that."

"So…it's good tears?"

She shrugs and sniffles. "I think so. It was just so much pleasure hitting me at once combined with so much love that I don't think my mind knew how to react."

I hold her tightly in my arms as that feeling like I never want to let her go washes over me.

I do have to let her go, though.

I have to take her to the airport in another hour, and I have to say goodbye. Again.

There's no way around it. With her life in Minnesota and mine here—for now, at least—we'll be apart for large chunks of time. It's just our reality.

And we could probably deal with it just fine if we didn't have someone actively working against us and trying to break us up.

But the more shots she takes at us, the more and more worried I become about the future of this marriage. The more and more worried I become that Amelia's going to win after all.

Especially with the shot that's waiting for me when I wake up in the morning.