Page 123 of Force Play

“Fine.” Her shoulders drop below the water, sagging in defeat. “Poppy was hurt. She didn’t say as much, but I could see it in her eyes. I just needed some time to process, and I think she understands now.”

Every cell in my body aches to be there with her. I want to wrap my arm around her and take away her stress. “Sounds like neither of us had the best nights, but seeing you, hearing your voice, makes it all worth it.”

“You know what might make it a little better?” She traps her lip between her teeth and my cock knows that look. It’s all it takes for him to go from semi to fully erect. That’s how it’s always been with us. Everything is just more. The heat between us burns hotter. The ability to annoy each other is unparalleled, and our love is a force to be reckoned with.

“Tell me what you need.”

It’s her way of taking care of me. For all the times I’ve distracted her, used how well we work together to help her when she needs to get out of her head, my wife is doing the same for me now.

It’s a flip on our normal dynamic. We work together, both of us know when to switch from teasing to sweet, and I’ve never questioned that. I’m man enough to admit that right now I need this, her taking care of me. Helping me forget about riding the bench today and worse, not being there physically when she needs me the most.

Chapter 46

Indie

Gravity pulls me to my stomach and I groan in pain from the new position. It takes me a minute in the dark to figure out that a dip in the bed is the reason for my discomfort.

“Shhh.” The warm body beside me soothes. Even barely conscious, I sag into him, clinging to his hard body after five days without him. “What’s wrong, Baby? Is the trigger shot making you uncomfortable?” His voice is hushed, like he’s trying not to wake me more than he already has.

“Yeah,” I grumble softly, curling around him, desperate to find a comfortable position. The heaviness in my stomach has had me tossing and turning since I laid down in our empty bed.

Our bed. I’m still not used to that.

“The shot wasn’t terrible, or maybe I’m just used to it, but the fullness is . . . awful. I hate it Dom,” I groan, allowing him to see the rawness of it all.

He kisses my head, and I sigh into his chest. Not feeling any better, but having him home from the series in Atlanta making this suck-fest easier to stomach. We have barely seventy-two hours before he has to board another plane and head to Chicago for their next stop on the road to hopefully win a world series.

While the rest of the team flew straight from Atlanta to Chicago, he chartered a flight home just to be here for my egg retrieval procedure tomorrow. Or is it this morning? “What time is it?”

“Three, go back to sleep. You need your rest for tomorrow.”

It’s a short procedure, barely fifteen minutes, but he was adamant he would be there when he found out that they would put me under.

His big palm covers my back, rubbing slow circles on it until I drift off in his arms.

Hours later, I wake the same way, only this time the sun is streaming through the blinds and creating shadows on the most handsome face I’ve ever seen. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm as I watch him sleep, knowing he has to be as exhausted as me from his games and the cross-country flight to be here this morning.

“I can feel you watching me.” The scratchy voice hits me right in the heart and his grip on me tightens. “Is it time to leave for the clinic? Did I sleep through my alarm?”

“No, the sun woke me up and now I’m just watching you like a creep. Past me would hardly believe it.”

“Past me always knew this is how we’d end up.” His warm breath fans across my head as he huffs out a laugh. “Not you being a creep, but us together.”

“I knew what you meant.”

His chest vibrates against me as he continues to chuckle over his own joke.

“You’re ridiculous,” I tell him, a smile tilting up my lips despite still feeling miserable.

“You married me.” Is his sleepy response.

“That I did.”

He watches me through lidded eyes and asks, “Are you feeling any better?”

“Not even a little,” I admit, looking down at my bloated stomach.

“Since you can’t eat, do you want to go for a walk before we leave? Maybe moving will help.”

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