Page 52 of Falling for the Forward

I shoot him a glare. “Don’t suggest that around Suki or the girls. I’m not paying for a pig room.”

He scoffs. “You really trusted Leo to handle this?”

Leo leans forward from nearby us on the bench, and looks at me. “I said I was sorry about the confusion. You wanted a little pig and I found you a little pig.”

“Amicropig, you dipshit. I have a farm hog living in my house now.”

The sound of the whistle makes me turn and focus on the game again. I can’t let myself get distracted until it’s over. If I don’t give a game a hundred percent of my attention, little things slide and I make mistakes.

I’ve just stopped actively sweating when we change lines and I go back in. I can feel the couple of workouts I missed on Christmas Eve and Christmas as I dig to get up and down the ice. After the debacle that was Thanksgiving, Suki told her family we wanted a low-key Christmas at home this year with just the five of us.

It was perfect. She made a roast and we all stayed in our pajamas all day. Or rather, I stayed in the pajama pants I changed back into and my sweater because the girls insisted I wear it for the entire day.

I haven’t had a Christmas like that since I was a kid. I thought about my mom and Rachel, and I think Suki thought of her family, too. It was the first time she’d ever not seen her family on Christmas, and she did that for me and the girls.

I’ve never been with a woman who didn’t put her wants first. Even when Kaia flew to Cleveland for my games, it was about her. She wanted to be seen and photographed before and after the games, preferably with me. Everything she did was in pursuit of her ultimate goal--a pro athlete husband.

Suki does a hundred little things a day for me and the girls just because it’s who she is. When she makes spaghetti, Oliviagets plain sauce instead of meat sauce. Every time I have a home game, I come home to a plate of grilled chicken and vegetables in the fridge, my favorite postgame meal.

I know I’m in deep with her because it feels even better to do things for her. I felt like a rock star when she opened the necklace. And when I kissed her, it was raw, real desire pouring from her. None of that fake bullshit I’m used to from women.

That kiss has been on my mind since the second it ended. Even now, I have to force my mind not to wander to the way she felt in my arms. I haven’t had sex in more than six months and every bit of my pent-up sexual energy is focused on Suki.

My wife. It no longer sounds crazy like it did at first.

We edge out a 3–2 win and I’m still full of energy as we head to the visiting locker room. As soon as I get to my phone, I find a text from Suki.

Suki: Great game! Darling snorted his approval when you scored.

She attached a picture of her and Darling in bed, her in a white tank top with her hair fanned out on the pillow and him snuggled up to her chest.

I’m jealous of him. His snout is just casually resting on her breast. I’d give my left nut to be there right now.

I text her back.

Carter: Thanks. It’ll be good to get home.

What I mean is it’ll be good to get home to her, but we’re still doing a dance where we don’t say things like that. I’m tired of the dance. What I really want to say isditch the pig, put on something sexy and wait for me to come bury my face in your pussy.

Damn, would it be nice to get into bed to find her ready to finish what we started with the kiss. I ache for it. I’ve seen so many of her facial expressions, from surprised to amused to exhausted. I’ve heard her laugh, be gentle but stern with the girlsand be firm with Darling. But what does she look like when she’s about to come? What does she sound like when she does?

I’ve never seen so many sides of a woman I wanted while still panting after her like a fucking dog. I want that last part of Suki I’m missing, and I want it bad.

“Your tub’s ready,” one of our trainers tells me.

I nod, strip down and head for the ice bath. When I step in, my thoughts of Suki are frozen away. Ice baths are great for recovery but not so great for fantasizing about what it would feel like for your wife to ride you until she milks you dry.

Our flight home takes an hour and a half, and I’m climbing the stairs to get to the bedroom around 1:45 a.m. The closer I get to Suki, the harder my dick gets.

I can’t do it like this, waking her up in the middle of the night, but I also can’t continue wanting her so badly and not acting on it.

When I switch on the bathroom light, it casts a faint glow into the bedroom and I see Darling in the middle of the bed, his back to Suki’s chest.

That lucky bastard. If I felt her tits against my back right now, I’d probably shoot my load. Six months plus with no sex is basically a medical condition.

I strip down to boxer briefs and get in bed, pushing one of Darling’s hooves out of my way.

Now to see if I can actually sleep. Tomorrow’s the day we’ve been waiting for--the hearing when the judge will decide if Chad gets the girls or I do.

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