Page 2 of A Stag Family Christmas

I slide a hand up her thigh, but feel her stiffen.Hm, not good.I withdraw my hand and look at her. "What's wrong?"

She huffs.Shit. What did I do?"You asked me if I'm getting the STAG FAMILY tattoo. But I'm not a Stag, am I, Thatcher?"

"Of course you are, Chezz. What are you talking about?"

She shakes her head. "I'm not. I'm not a Stag. I'm your live-in girlfriend."

“Shit, Emma. You know you mean everything to me. I’m trying really hard here.”

She rolls her eyes. “I think I’m convenient for you, is what I am.”

“How can you say that? I moved my whole studio so I could be with you. So I could be supportive of your job.”

“Am I supposed to be grateful of your sacrifice?” Her eyes flare and she looks really angry.

I rake my fingers through my long hair again. I guess my suspicions were right, but I didn’t know Emma was this upset about the direction of our relationship. “I want to make a life with you, Emma. Iwantyou to want the Stag family tattoo.”

Emma starts crying then, and I know things are worse than I thought. “Why didn’t you talk to me before you were this upset?”

“I didn’t know I was this upset until everyone else was getting the Stag brand and I felt left out.”

“Should I go back and ask Jason to ink you up real quick?” Emma snorts at that suggestion. I seize upon this tiny gesture and press on. “Or do you want me to tattoo your name on my ass? I would, you know, Chezz.”

I slam the truck into first gear outside our building and yank on the e-brake. I look over at Emma, ready to keep hashing this out, but she's gone grey and clammy. "Emma?" She reaches out a hand and squeezes my arm, but her body goes stiff and her muscles begin to twitch. "Emma!"

She's having a seizure.Shit, shit, shit.I can't remember what to do. It's been awhile since we talked through this possibility.

Her body slumps over and stills. I unbuckle my seatbelt and grab her phone from her coat pocket. Unlocking it, I dial up her neurologist and try to suppress my panic.

2

TY

Coach blows the whistle and we all sink to the ice, exhausted. He's been riding us so hard this season. We haven't won the Cup since the first year I was on the Fury, but we got to the semifinals last year. Coach can smell the silver polish on that big ass bowl, and so can every guy out here. But fuck, I'm tired. “That’s it for today, men,” he bellows. “You know what I’m asking Santa for this year, and you’re the little elves who’re gonna bring it to me.” I don’t even have the energy left to even cuss at him.

I pull myself up and limp to the locker room. I can't wait to get home, so I skip the showers. I want to yank my wife into the tub with me and wrap her long legs around my ribs until they don't hurt anymore. I almost fumble the keys, I'm so eager to get inside, but when I get home, our place is dark and quiet.Shit.Did I forget? I swear Juniper was going to be home after I got out from practice this week.

My wife was a partner in my brother's law firm, but now she's running for judge. I'm proud as fuck that she's trying to get elected, but between my pro hockey schedule and her campaign events, I hardly see her. I flick on the lights and see a note in the kitchen.Ran into the office to wrap up a case file. Be home by 9. I'm sorry!!! --JJ

Fuck. I'm sweaty and horny and my wife is at work. I grab a peach from the counter, but as I'm eating it all I can think about is tonguing Juniper. I nestle into the couch and call her up on video chat.

"Ty! I'm so sorry!" She seems flustered. Her hair is a bit of a mess and I see her wince as she leans to grab a file. "How was practice?"

"Coach is trying to kill us."

She scoffs, still not looking up, and says, "Or maybe you let yourself get soft, easing up on conditioning in the off season." I fucking love it when Juniper challenges me. She won a damn Olympic gold medal in rowing and she’s fit as fuck. We train together whenever we can and living with another athlete makes it so much easier for me to stick with my training and my diet. I toss the peach aside, though, because I don’t want health food right now.

I love looking at my wife in work mode, wearing her power suit. I reach into the waist of my mesh shorts and give my dick a tug. She looks up briefly and squints, looking at our condo. "We need to talk about getting the housekeeper to come more often."

Juniper starts talking about how shit is falling apart at home--she's right. We have laundry everywhere--but I mostly stare at her lips and stroke myself a little harder. "Babe, angle the monitor down a bit."

She raises an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?" I grunt. "Ty, are you jerking off right now?" She can holler at me all she wants if she's going to pull her shoulders back like that. Her tits are centered in the screen of my phone, moving up and down a little as she starts yelling at me. But then she tilts the screen so I can see her face.

"I wanted to fuck you so bad after practice, Junebug." She licks her lips. "Take off your suit jacket and let me see your blouse."

Juniper looks over her shoulder. She stands up and walks off screen, and I hear her closing her office door. Hell yeah! It's on.

She walks back over to her desk and leans forward. The laptop camera is lined up with the neck of her blouse and I can see her bra a little bit as she says, "You're telling me you're so fucking horny you couldn't wait a few more hours for this?"

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