Page 120 of From Maybe to Baby

I'm not the only one trying to balance adventure with routine, travel with home, freedom with family. My inbox is full of readers sharing their own stories of finding magic.

"You've tapped into something," my editor says. "The antidote to perfect Instagram travel. Real, messy, beautiful life. Plus, having an NHL star as your Instagram husband doesn't hurt engagement."

Jonas plays along with my content needs, letting me document our adventures for the blog. He draws the line at doing TikTok dances, but he’s a good sport at the whole social media thing. The team's PR department loves it.

Today we're late for hockey practice again because Lukas couldn’t find something he needed—I’m not even sure what. But somehow it works. All of it works.

I'm still traveling, writing, chasing stories. Just differently. And amazingly, the world actually feels bigger, something I never expected.

Jonas finds me in my office one evening, updating my blog with our latest adventure—teaching table manners through a very creative interpretation of international diplomacy.

"Professional writing time?"

"Super professional." I glance at his post-practice look—freshly showered and hot as hell. I might need some expert consultation though."

"About hockey metaphors?"

"Among other things."

With the kids at their grandparents for a sleepover, we seize our chance and holy fuck, the moment Jonas’s lips claim mine, I am lost. My body is on fire, from head to toe.

I want him like I have never wanted anything else. Like, without him, there is no air. No sun. No existence. By all that is holy, I am going to have him right now. I simply cannot wait.

My arms circle his neck as we kiss, my fingers gripping his hair. When he shakes his head, I tug in frustration at losing contact.

Jonas growls. “You want it rough, do you?”

Before I can respond, he spins me around and presses me to the wall. I brace myself. He grips my hips and grinds against me, his erection pressed into my lower back.

I moan and feel the dampness between my legs.

“I can smell you,” he whispers against my ear. “Delicious.” He grips the hem of my dress and lifts, tugging it over my head, and throwing it to the floor.My underwear follows.

He palms my breasts, teasing my nipples until they hurt in a good way. Darts of pleasure shoot through me as he squeezes and tugs and pinches. I want more.

He spins me around, now pressing my back against the wall, and lowers his head. With his fingers still at play on my right breast, he sucks and nips at my left. My head falls back with a moan and the heat of his mouth wreaks new havoc on me.

It’s building, an orgasm from just his hands and mouth. My breath hitches and my eyes flutter closed as the tension coils and pleasure begins to bloom?—

He pulls away.

What the fuck?

My eyes fly open at the interruption. “What–” I stammer.

“You think I’m going to let you come that easy?” he asks, grinning. He turns me around again and pins my arms behind my back. Holding them together at the wrists, he walks me into our bedroom, where he lowers me face first onto the mattress, pushing my behind high in the air.

“Look at that sweet ass,” he breathes. He gives each cheek a quick, sharp smack. “You like that? Getting a spanking?”

I wiggle my bottom just a little, hoping he’ll smack it again. Instead, he starts sliding his thick fingers up and down my wet slit.

No complaints here.

He opens my lips to plunge a finger inside me.

I gasp and jerk, but he grips my wrists tighter. He leans closer and begins whispering.

“Such a sweet pussy you have. Are you ready, baby? Ready for me to fuck you right here?”

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