Page 143 of Waiting For Fate

His hands grip the edge of the counter and the way his knuckles are turning white gives me an extra boost of confidence. I refrain from swallowing to keep him nice and wet, then with my other hand I squeeze his balls and he mutters fuck under his breath.

“You’re so good at sucking me off, baby.” I moan at his praise and take him as far back as I can. He reaches down and pinches the bridge of my nose between my eyes. “Open your throat for me so I can fuck your pretty mouth properly.” I hold on to the back of his thighs as he thrusts—completely intoxicated by the way he looks when my mouth is wrapped around him. Then he pulls out of me and lifts me off the ground.

“There’s only one place I want my cum going tonight.” His lips cover mine, hungry and desperate as his tongue dips into my mouth before he pulls away. “Turn around and hold on tight.” I turn and face the island, gripping the counter as he bends me over. He slides two fingers through my lips then sliding them over my clit so I can feel how wet I am for him.

“Atta girl, wet and ready for me.” Then he thrusts. He slows his pace only to lean over and plant kisses all over my back, causing the waves of pleasure I’m already feeling to intensify.

“More,” I plead. He thrusts twice more then I’m left empty only for a moment as he turns me around, pulling me up by the legs before sliding in again.

“I needed to see that pretty face.” My head falls back with a moan as he returns to the beautiful, punishing pace he had set before.

“Don’t stop, Sawyer. I’m so close,”

“I wouldn’t dare, baby.” With every thrust of his hips, I fall deeper into the euphoria that is being with Sawyer. He makes me happier than I’ve ever been, and seeing his ring on my finger while he brings me pleasure only he can, makes me want to be his in every way possible as officially as possible. He presses his thumb to my clit with the most delicate and perfect pressure and I let go, soaking him with every drop of my orgasm.

“Sawyer!” I scream, as he empties himself inside me, pulling me closer so there is no space left between us. With every breath he takes his chest presses harder against mine, allowing me to feel his heartbeat against mine.

“I don’t want to wait to become your wife. Marry me, Sawyer. Marry me tomorrow, or next week, or next month if we have to wait that long, but marry me sooner, please?” He looks into my eyes, gently cupping my face with his hands as he smiles back at me.

“I think those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard spoken. Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I nod in assurance.

“Then let’s get married.” He smiles and my soul completely melts into his. In my mind, Sawyer and I were one from the moment we first kissed. Now we’re just making it official.

EPILOGUE

SAWYER

The entire last week has been absolutely wild. Winning the Stanley Cup is a much bigger deal than winning any ordinary game—as I’m sure anyone would imagine. The locker room was covered with champagne and the smell of predetermined bad decisions right after our victory, the after party that night had an energy like none I’d ever seen before, and don’t even get me started on the fucking parade. Having Leah by my side through it all only made it that much sweeter. I’d thought we’d have everyone over for a celebratory dinner the night after we won, but I severely underestimated the celebrations that would be had this week.

So tonight, the dinner table at our house is packed with our family and closest friends, to finally celebrate the Badgers win at the Stanley Cup. It just so happens it was my night to have the cup, so it’s currently full of ice to keep our champagne cool.

“Umm, Moose, hey,” Taylor whispers, bending down next to me as everyone around the dinner table mingles. I chose to hire caterers for tonight since there are so many people, that way we’re all able to enjoy the evening without having to serve ourselves.

“What is it, Tot?” I whisper back.

“Not that I’m not loving the black-tie attire—and the caterers were a super nice touch so your victory dinner isn’t potluck style, but—” She smiles and begins talking through her teeth. “Who’s the rando sitting by Mom and Dad?” I glance over and smile.

“A friend.”

“I mean, as long as we’re not about to turn into a massive breaking news article, I’m good with it.”

“I’m confident there are at least three people here who would drop Hank before that happened.”

“Riiight.” She looks down the table where Tucker, Max, and Tank are sitting. “As you were.” With her evening gown floating behind her, she makes her way back down to her seat and Leah leans over and squeezes my thigh.

“Better get to it before someone asks Hank what he does for a living.” She lifts her brows and nods me along.

“I suppose you’re right.” I stand and raise my water glass, tapping it with my fork.

“Can I have your attention please?” I clear my throat when all eyes turn towards me.

“You’ve had it since you made that winning shot, son.” My dad says, easing some of my nerves as laughs spread across the table.

“It’s no secret that I achieved one of my lifelong dreams of winning the Stanley Cup last week. I’ve been playing hockey since I was old enough to hold a stick and the time, effort, and sacrifices made by both of my parents will not go unnoticed. Mom and Dad, thank you. For taking me to practice, for not getting too mad at me when I busted a window…or two, while slapping biscuits around the yard, and for never letting me give up on my dreams. Any of them.” My dad gives me a sly smile and I tip my glass to him.

“But winning a game is simply that. One win. One game. One moment—that I will, of course, be proud of and remember for the rest of my life—but in the end, it is fleeting. Something else happened this season, something much bigger than winning a game. I finally got my girl. I would have never ended up in Nashville, playing for the Badgers if it wasn’t for this woman right here and my undeniable need to be where she was. As many of you know, I asked Leah to marry me recently—and she accepted.” I smile down at her, and her cheeks grow rosy as people yell and clap around the table.

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