Page 76 of Force Play

“That’s my girl.” He adds another finger layering hot kisses on my neck. “I love hearing you ask for my cock.”

“I need it. Please.” Reaching behind me, I pull him out of his briefs. Stroking his hard length before placing it between my already damp thighs.

“Baby, you can’t do that.” He rocks his hips, coating his length with my slickness, sounding pained by the restraint he’s using. “I want you bare. Just the idea of filling you up with my cum has me on edge.” Teeth clamp down on my shoulder, a punishment for the way I’m torturing him.

“Oh.” I gasp, when he pushes forward his head nudging my clit. “We can’t. I haven’t been on the pill long enough.”

“That’s not the detractor you think it is.”

“Wh-what?” I ask, sure I didn’t hear him right over my screaming ovaries.

“Relax, I’m not trying to knock you up. We need time to figure this out, but the idea of it is really fucking hot. You carrying our baby? Yeah, I don’t hate that at all.”

He drags his cock backward over my clit again and I lurch forward, reaching for the nightstand where he stashes his condoms.

“Condom, now,” I squeak.

“You don’t like the idea?” he asks with a laugh. I roll my lips together. “Or do you like it a little too much?”

“Let’s not gloat. Put the condom on and fuck me.”

Thankfully, he follows directions flawlessly before running out the door for practice.

Chapter 31

Dom

“Marry, Kiss, Kill. D.J. Tanner-Fuller, Stephanie Tanner, or Kimmy Gibbler,” I ask, playing with a wayward dark curl. Ronnie snores at our feet, her favorite pastime followed closely by a game of catch. My favorite pastime is quickly becoming these peaceful moments alone with my girl. The ones where she’s not busy busting her ass to get her work done and I’m not rushing off to the next practice or game. Where all our worries about the future seem to slip away for a while and we can just be.

“We’re talking about the Fuller House era, right?” She eyes me over her shoulder. I’ve got her tucked under my arm on her couch. The Bandits played an afternoon game, and I came straight here. Other than Ronnie, who Indie’s been spending more time with when I’m at the stadium, she’s still brushing off everyone else. Somehow, the girls talked her into a girl’s night tomorrow while the team travels for a road trip. Knowing they’ll be around, even if they don’t know what’s going on with her, is a relief.

“Of course. What kind of person do you think I am?” I tug on that same stray curl, teasingly.

“Just checking. Don’t get your panties in a twist. Kiss Stephanie. Kill Kimmy. Marry D.J. What about you?”

“I prefer undies, but whatever.” She rolls her eyes, tempting me to put her on all fours and spank the attitude out of her. But I choose to soak up these simple moments, the same kind that made me want more that first night. We might poke at each other, but no matter what we are talking about, it just flows. From that first night, it felt like I’d found my best friend in Indie. “Kiss Kimmy. Marry Stephanie. Kill D.J.,” I answer, not needing to think about it.

“Poor D.J., what did she ever do to you?”

“D.J.’s too tidy for me. I like someone that keeps me on my toes. She’s predictable.” Leaning forward I grab the remote from the coffee table, switching off the sports highlights and pulling up a streaming service. “Want to watch a few episodes of Is it Cake?”

“Sure, just let me call my dad real quick. He should be done with his village meeting. You get it ready.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“Not yet.” She stops in her tracks, her head tilting to the side slightly and scans my face for a reaction carefully, like she’s expecting me to be disappointed. Her shoulders sag with relief when she doesn’t find anything but genuine concern.

I wish she would tell him. I’ve encouraged her to do so, but only because I want her to feel supported by more than just me, especially when I’m gone as often as I am.

Her soft lips brush my cheek. It’s an innocent kiss, but it makes me want to pull her back for more. Before I have the chance, she grabs her phone and disappears through the sliding door to the balcony. While she’s catching up with her dad, I scrounge for snacks. You can’t watch a baking competition without sustenance of your own.

“Ooh cookie dough. I could fuck with that,” I say to Ronnie, who followed me out here and is currently stationed at my feet looking adorably spoiled as she waits for a snack. “None for you, little lady.” I pop a few bite-sized pieces in my mouth and move on to making popcorn, pouring some M&M’s into the bowl.

I’m halfway back to the couch, chewing on another piece of cookie dough, when Indie slips back inside.

“What are you eating?” Something ominous creeps down my spine in the cool way she asks. Like she knows exactly what I’m eating and there is no right answer to this question.

“Cookie dough,” I say wearily, dropping to the couch and shaking the container for her to take a piece.

---