Page 110 of Play the Game

“I hope you know you’re mine after this,” he mumbles. “I know everyone else already thinks you’re mine with that ring on your finger, but I needyouto know it.” He presses his cock against the back of my throat one more time, and that’s when Iopen wider and let him empty each of his desirable thoughts he has about me down my throat until he finishes and pulls out.

I take the back of my hand and wipe my glistening lips, but my arm falls swiftly when Emory grabs me by the bicep and pulls me to my feet. My back presses backward with his palm being the only thing resting between me and the wall.

“Tell me,” he demands.

His eyes drive into mine, and I blink several times.

My body curves toward him when he tugs me closer and hooks one of my legs around his waist.

I can’t breathe with the feel of him pressing against me.

How easy it would be for him to just slip inside andreallymake me his.

“Tell you what?” I ask, slightly confused at how hoarse my voice is.

“That you’re mine.” Emory’s eyes bounce back and forth between mine, and I’m stuck between admitting it and being too afraid to say it out loud.

Because we both know I’m not.

We both turn toward the noise coming from the hallway.

Oh my god. His parents.

I gasp, and he’s insane, because my surprise actually makes him smile.

“Oh my god. Your parents are here. What if they heard us?”

“My parents…who are also your in-laws…” he adds with a hint of humor.

Does he think I forgot that we’re married? After all ofthat.

“Don’t sweat it,” he coaxes, running his hands through my hair. “Of course I’d be in here shoving my cock down your throat. You’re my wife.” He winks at me and goes to step away but not before I smack him lightly in the chest. He catches my hand, and I tumble into his hard body.

“We do need to get downstairs. I put an order in for biscotti to be delivered this morning when I knew they were coming to visit.”

Surprise makes me lose my train of thought, and my tense shoulders relax. He lets go of my hand, and I rush to beat him to the bathroom to make myself look presentable instead of like I just got fucked in the mouth by their son.

Through the closed door, I hear Emory say, “Our conversation isn’t over, by the way.”

With the little bit of distance between us, I shake my head and go to argue, but I already hear his bedroom door opening and his footsteps moving down the hall.

The conversation is absolutely over.

Because what happens when he discovers all the baggage that comes with having me around?

Forty-Six

EMORY

“What’s gotten into you?”Malaki flings a puck at me during warm-ups, and I get fancy with it. I catch the biscuit and do a spin on the ice like I’m seven years old instead of twenty-six.

It’s more likewhat I’ve gotten intoinstead of something getting into me, but sharing anything about this morning with anyone feels like I’m betraying Scottie’s trust in some way.

I’ve never really been private before when it came to hooking up with someone. Locker-room talk is as old as time, but this is different. I don’t want anyone to know how obsessed I am with my wife, because when it’s all said and done, who’s to say they won’t try to wine and dine her into their bed?

I fire another puck down the ice, and Kane whips around, skating toward me. “Did that puck do something to you? Jesus.”

Nope. Just the thought of anyone touching my perfect wife did.

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