Page 15 of A Stag Family Christmas

15

TY

Juniper scheduled her swearing in ceremony on an off day for the Fury, so sure enough the entire team came to the courthouse to watch. All those big hockey players crammed in the seats beside Juniper’s rowing friends and my extended family makes for a tall crowd.

And we’re noisy as hell, because Juniper is awesome. She might not have any blood relatives, but she sure has a huge chosen family in Pittsburgh rooting for her. I love her confidence as she walks in, looking sexy as fuck in her robe and high heels.

She’s only a little bit pregnant, and already her tits look massive, which I definitely appreciate. I sort of zone out during the short ceremony, because I get distracted by how good she looks. I can’t tell if pregnant women really do glow or if she’s just so damn happy to be made a judge that she shines. Either way, she looks good. I squeeze her hand and stand beside her, knowing Tim is taking pictures and I’ll get to look at that expression she’s got any time I want.

Alice wanted to cater the party for Juniper afterward, but we all talked her into being a guest and enjoying herself. Juniper let her pick out the restaurant and the menu, and as soon as we wrap up official City photos, everyone starts to head over to the fancy place on Penn Ave where Alice rented the top floor party room. For some reason, Juniper said it was ok not to have alcohol since she and Emma can’t drink. Alice suggested we go booze-free, which is ridiculous because Alice usually loves beer at a party. I leave my brother Tim to explain that my teammates are looking at a dry morning while I follow Juniper to her chambers to change.

“Mmm,” I say, planting a kiss on her neck. “I love that you havechambers.”

“Meet me in mychambers,” she says, tugging on my tie and pulling me into the room, which is really just an office with extra chairs so Juniper can hear smaller cases. She closes the door behind me and turns the lock. I cock my eyebrow at her, wondering what she’s doing.

And then my wife leans back on her desk, hikes up her robe, gives me a full on Sharon-Stone-style leg cross, and I see that she wore absolutely nothing under that thing for her swearing in.

“Holy fuck, JJ.” I can barely form words. My dick immediately perks up. I feel like I’m drawn by magnets, stepping forward and sliding my hands up my wife’s long thighs. The silky material of her robe bunches up at her hips and I stand in between her legs, pressing into her heat.

The air in her chambers sizzles with both of our desire. “It’s been so long, Ty,” she moans, leaning back on her forearms. “I need you to fuck me before we go to that party.”

All those nights on the road that seemed so glorious before Juniper are just long and lonely now that I’d rather be back with her. Then when I am home, she’s been barfing or exhausted. We haven’t had sex in weeks.

Today, I want to lick and savor every inch of her. I sink to my knees and duck my head under the hem of her robe, planting kisses up and down each powerful thigh. She trembles beneath my touch, moaning my name and letting her head drop back.

Eventually, after I make her wait awhile, I make it to her pussy. I slide one finger inside her and lick her long and deep, planting the flat of my tongue where I know she needs it most. Juniper makes sputtering sounds on the desk, moving her keyboard out of the way with an elbow as she gets herself comfortable. “That’s it, babe,” I growl, keeping up a slow rhythm with my fingers. “Tell me what feels good.”

“Everything, Ty,” she breathes. “Please.” Her breath comes in puffs as I work her with my tongue, lashing away at her like she’s my last meal. And fuck. She might be my best meal, because she tastes amazing.

“I need you to come for me, JJ,” I say, worried that I might lose it in my pants if she keeps this up. The sight of her splayed open like this, just for me in her prim and proper work outfit, has me thinking dirty, filthy thoughts. I sneak a pinky finger further back as I thrust my hand in and out of Juniper, teasing at her tight little ass. This makes her groan and I feel her orgasm building around me until she erupts in my mouth. I lick up every drop of her pleasure and then kiss my way up her body. She’s firm and tight, the years of muscles and intense workouts carving out a body as ripped as my own. I love how we fit together. I slip the robe up and over her head and then she drops her arms around my neck, sucking and nipping at my shoulder while I worship her tits.

“Juniper,” I gasp. “These are fucking phenomenal.”

She hisses when I pull a nipple into my mouth. “It’s so sensitive, Ty,” she gasps. I catch a hint of displeasure in her voice and pull back. She seems to relax against me then, so I kiss her lips instead and let her unbuckle my suit pants. She gets the belt undone and the zipper barely down before she’s got her fist around my dick and yanks me toward her. “I need you,” she says. “Now. Hard.”

“Yes, Your Honor,” I joke, but when I ram into her, there’s nothing funny about it. The front of my thighs bash against the wood corner of her massive desk and I know it’ll leave a bruise later, but I don’t give a shit. I can’t stop now. Not when my wife is demanding I go harder, deeper, as she grabs hold of my hips. She’s totally naked, spread out on her desk, while I pound into her so hard her tits shake with the effort. She doesn’t need to ask me, I know what she likes. But god, I love to hear it.

“I could do this forever, Juniper,” I say, meeting her eye. The dark pools of brown are almost gone, her pupils are so dilated with her lust. She puts her hands on my ass, settling into the hollow beneath my hips, and pulls me deeper.

“Now, Ty,” she insists. “Right now. Come with me!”

And I do. God, I come so hard I can barely see, melting into her, gasping and shaking as the milky jets finally slow down. “Fuck, Juniper,” I say, leaning my forehead against hers. “How the hell am I ever going to step in here again and not think about this.”

Juniper kisses me on the tip of my nose and leans back, reaching for a box of tissues. “I certainly hope you remember this every time you come to my chambers,” she says with a laugh. “The Honorable Juniper Jones insists upon it.”

I love hearing her giggle, seeing how excited she is for this new career move. She hands me a tissue and mops herself up a bit, still perched on the edge of the desk. I’m still standing motionless in between her legs, and she gently pushes me back. “You better close up your britches, Ty. We have to go meet a whole bunch of people for soup and salad.”

I shake my head and grin, wondering how I got so damn lucky. She gets dressed quickly and we walk to the restaurant hand in hand. The press has found out the Fury are here—some server probably tipped them off—and the restaurant is mobbed with photographers. The manager won’t let anyone upstairs, but the photogs snap shots of Juniper and me as we make our way inside. I’ve got the collar popped on my wool coat and a scarf wrapped around my neck, but there’s no hiding who I am, especially with my team leaning over the balcony upstairs and hollering my name, plus a bunch of insults about the lack of beer.

“Will the baby play hockey?” a reporter asks as Juniper unzips her coat to hand it to the hostess.

She grins and they take some pictures, but all I can think about is how I don’t want to leave her—them, really—tonight. I’m sick of the press and the fame. It’s not exciting anymore. It feels invasive. My celebration with my wife should feel private, not gossip fodder by the checkout line at the grocery store. We fly out to Seattle for a four-day series, and I won’t be here to get JJ ice cream if she wants it or spray that lavender stuff she likes when she can’t sleep. As much as I love these guys, the glory, the fame…chasing a puck around with a wooden stick seems to have lost its appeal.

16

TIM

With all the madness of the holiday season and everyone getting pregnant or elected, I haven’t had a chance to hang out with my brothers in awhile. My grandmother reminds me of this at breakfast when she tells me she’s not going to buy us running socks this year, since it seems like we don’t even go running together anymore.

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