Page 31 of Closing the Distance

This man is going to break my heart someday, and I think I’m going to let him, simply because this memory would be worth it.

He kisses up my body, spending time giving attention to each breast until I’m a writhing mess underneath him, when he finally reaches my mouth.

“Do I need a condom?” he asks against my lips.“I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

I stare into his brown eyes, not wanting a single thing between us. I want every inch of this man for as long as I can have him. “No,” I say, my voice quiet but sure.

He nods once and then kisses me hard as he slides his thick cock deep inside me. We both let out groans as he stretches me wide.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Never felt this good,” he murmurs against my lips, kissing away any response I can give. Despite the fact we haven’t had sex together in almost three months, our bodies move together as if we’ve been having sex every day and know every move that will bring the other person the most pleasure.

Ty slides a hand underneath my ass, tilting my pelvis to hit a different angle inside me, causing fireworks to go off behind my eyes. This time, I scream as my release hits me, my orgasm causing me to contract against him so tightly, he has no choice but to follow me over the cliff.

We both shudder as little tremors go through us, but for the first time in days, I feel completely sated. I have no idea how long it’ll last, but I’m thankful for the slight reprieve—and for finally feeling like I have my sanity back.

These pregnancy hormones are no joke.

Ty holds my body tight to his, dropping little kisses along my neck as we readjust so my back is to his front, his arms around me.

I close my eyes as sleep threatens at the edges, a calm washing over me along with something else—something scary and yet something I want more than anything—a sense of being wanted and belonging to this amazing man who I don’t deserve.

EIGHTEEN

My gaze darts to the sidelines where one of the trainers stands near a bench. He meets my stare and shakes his head, causing my stomach to tighten as worst-case scenarios grow in number in my head. Lexi was supposed to come to the game, but she wasn’t here by the time it started, and there’s still no sign of her.

I’ve always been able to separate my personal life from what’s happening on the field—until Lexi. All my usual tricks to get my head in the game aren’t doing a goddamn thing.

What if she got into an accident on the way to the stadium? What if she’s in the hospital hurt? What if something happened to the baby?

All the what-ifs nearly bring me to my knees. My phone is in the locker room, and she doesn’t have any of my friends’ or family’s numbers if she needed another way to get ahold of me. Why didn’t I think of that beforehand? She needs those numbers if there’s an emergency.

Lexi is not a flaky person. If I’ve learned anything about her over the past couple of months it’s that she’s kind, caring, and conscientious. She’d never just not show up unless there was a good reason.

There’s movement on the field, and my head snaps up to realize the play is in progress.

Fuck.

That hesitation is all the momentum they need. I chase after the player I’m covering, trying to fix my error, but it’s clear he’s going to catch the ball. The only thing I can do is hope it slows him down enough for me to tackle him. I push forward, channeling all my worry over Lexi and using it to move my body faster. The sooner we can end this, the sooner I can get back on the sidelines and beg that trainer to grab my phone and call Lexi.

I get closer and shove my body against his, but he twists at the last second, causing us to rotate on our way to the ground, and I hit the turf hard, followed by him landing on my right shoulder and head. Stars burst across my vision, and pain flares down my arm. He rolls off me quickly, but the damage is done. I don’t think anything’s torn, but my head throbs and my shoulder aches like I spent too many hours at the gym lifting weights that were fifty pounds too heavy.

Romel rushes over. “You okay?”

A groan escapes as I attempt to sit up, and he puts a hand on my shoulder. “Woah, hold on.”

A team medic runs over and kneels next to me. “Where were you hit?”

I grit my teeth, knowing how I answer this will determine if I can play or not, but I’m not about to mess around with my health. “Shoulder and head.”

“Headache?”

“No.”

“Any nausea, ringing in your ears, or blurred vision?”

I grip my shoulder, trying to rub away some of the ache. “No.”

The team doctor joins us on the field and crouches down. “You okay, Russell?”

---