Page 61 of Tangled Vows

I hit send and waited to see if she’d respond. To my surprise, my phone beeped with an incoming text minutes later.

Wifey: Glad you guys made it back safely. I won’t be there when you get home.

My breath caught, and my heart stuttered to a halt. For a moment, I worried she’d changed her mind about us, that she got scared and ran. Before I could dial her number in a panic, her next message came through.

Wifey: Mom had treatment today. It hit her hard. She’s really sick and Makenna’s at school, so I’m staying over to keep an eye on her.

Relief washed over me, and the air left my lungs in a rush. She hadn’t left me. She was just taking care of her mom. A pang of guilt over feeling relieved hit me square in the gut. Her mom was sick, so sick in fact, she couldn’t be left alone. I wished there was more that I could do to help her, but aside from setting her up with a leading oncologist for a second opinion—who assured us she was already receiving the appropriate treatment—I was completely helpless to make a difference.

I wanted to call Shayla, to hear her voice and tell her how much I missed her, but I didn’t want to risk waking her mom if she was close by. She’d been having trouble sleeping at night and needed her rest.

Me: Is there anything I can do? I can stop by the supermarket on my way if you need supplies.

There was a twenty-four hour grocery store close by where I could pick up anything she needed from the ginger teas her mom drank to nausea medicine and pain relievers. Though I wasn’t sure anything I found there would be as effective as what the doctor prescribed, it was still worth a shot.

Wifey: No, but thanks for asking. She’s finally resting, so I’m going to turn in for the night.

I bid her goodnight and settled in for the drive back to Willow Brook Falls. It was tempting to crash in the city with one of my teammates since I had to be back at the arena in the morning for practice, but I wanted to be home. If I couldn’t be wrappedaround her body, I wanted to at least be surrounded by her scent. Maybe if I could smell her sweet perfume and the fruity scent of her shampoo, I could pretend she was there when I closed my eyes to go to sleep.

Unfortunately, all that did was cause me to wake up with a painful erection. I hugged her pillow close and inhaled deeply, wishing it was her instead. Groaning, I forced myself out of bed and hopped in the shower to take care of business. I stroked my hand up and down my shaft imagining it was her mouth. She’d woken me up Saturday morning with her lips around my cock. I’d been helpless to stop her, not that I wanted to. It was the most beautiful sight I’d ever laid eyes on.

I arrived at the arena thirty minutes early, eager to see my wife before practice. Luckily she was alone when I pushed through her office door. Her gaze snapped up to meet mine, and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Easton,” she said, her voice all breathy in the way that made my dick hard. Taking care of myself in the shower this morning did nothing to lessen my need for her. “What are you doing here so early?” she asked, glancing at the clock on her wall. I shut the door and locked it as she stood from her seat. I was across the room in seconds. Before she could utter another word, I cupped her face and slammed my mouth down on hers. My kiss swallowed her gasp, and she melted against me. It had been days since I’d kissed my wife, and now that she was finally in my arms again, all the tension eased from my body. Her close proximity settled the disquiet in my chest that grew the longer we were apart.

I kissed her for long moments before finally pulling back and pressing my forehead to hers. She clung to me, her fingers curling into my sides possessively, desperately.

“I missed you,” I confessed, tangling a hand in her hair. Tugging at the strands, I urged her to tilt her head back and look at me. She swallowed thickly, and her gaze met mine.

“I missed you too,” she admitted honestly, but there was reluctance in her tone as though she still couldn’t believe that this was real. She was still a little hesitant to open up to me about her feelings. As much as she’d revealed this weekend, she skirted around any subject that revolved around us and our future. That was okay. I’d give her time to adjust and come to terms with the fact that she was stuck with me for life now. There was no end to us, no expiration date like there had been before. We had all the time in the world.

“It was torture going to bed alone every night and not feeling your body pressed against mine,” I said, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her closer. My erection pressed into her stomach, and she arched into me. “I could think of nothing other than being inside you and hearing you scream my name while I made you come around my cock.” I slid my hand around the front of her waist to flick open the button on her pants only to find there wasn’t one. I glanced down her body to find a black tailored knee-length skirt hugging her curves. Shocked, I lifted my gaze to hers. I’d made a comment about wanting her to wear a skirt to work for easier access, but she’d brushed me off saying it wasn’t practical attire. It looked like she’d changed her mind.

I let out a heady groan before dropping my hand to her thigh and bunched the fabric in my fist. I tugged it up to her hip and lowered my voice. It came out gravelly when I asked, “Did you wear this for me?” Pink stained her cheeks, and she pulled her lip between her teeth.

“Maybe,” she replied, a mischievous gleam in her eye. She was taunting me.

And I fucking loved it.

“It better be for me,” I warned, yanking the material up to her waist. Dropping my hand from her face, I palmed her ass, groaning when it met her bare flesh, and my finger brushed the string of her thong. “Fuck, baby, you’re killing me,” I said, barely holding on to my control. “You have no idea how many times I’ve fantasized about spreading you out on this desk and fucking you until you forget your name.” A tiny whimper fell from her lips, and that sound spurred me into action.

I ripped her thong down her legs and urged her to lean back on her desk. Her feet lifted off the floor, and I slid the scrap of fabric over her heels. She was bare from the waist down except for the sexy shoes gracing her feet. It was better than any erotic fantasy I’d had where she was the star of the show. And there had been many.

“I’m keeping these,” I declared as I tucked her panties into my pocket. Her eyes flared, and her chest heaved as I gripped my erection through my gray sweatpants. I used to wear them for comfort, but now I wore them to drive her wild. It was insane the number of times I’d caught her staring at me in them, even before we became intimate.

“Open your legs,” I demanded. “I want to see you.” She complied, dropping back onto her elbows and spreading her legs open for me. She was glistening, a sure sign she needed this as badly as I did.

Dropping to my knees in front of her, I parted her with my thumb, rubbing the gathering slickness over her clit. She moaned, and her head fell back. I leaned forward and swiped my tongue over the swollen bud, and her thighs clamped over my head. I chuckled against her and gripped her thighs to hold her in place. Then I feasted. It didn’t take long for her to fall apart, and once I was certain she was sated, I stood and shoved the front of my pants down. This would be fast and hard, and I wanted to make sure she was satisfied before I took my pleasure.

Curling one hand around the back of her neck, I pulled her mouth to mine as I plunged inside her. She gripped me so tight as the aftershocks of her orgasm rippled through her that I knew I wouldn’t last long.

She felt incredible wrapped around me. It had been days since I’d been inside her, and I must’ve forgotten just how good she felt. It was so intense, even better than the first time. When I looked down to watch myself pump in and out of her, I froze. I wasn’t wearing a condom.

“Shit.” The curse fell from my lips on a whisper.

“Why’d you stop?” Shayla asked, lifting her head to look at me. She was practically panting, and her lipstick was smeared from my kiss. She looked so hot I nearly said “fuck it” and kept going. But we always used protection. We’d never discussed the possibility of going without.

“I’m not wearing a condom.” She blinked at me slowly. It took her a moment to register what I’d said, and when she did, she shoved me away. I nearly cried as I slipped out of her warm, inviting body. I stepped back when she hopped down from her desk and shoved her skirt down her thighs. My gut tightened at the distress in her expression.

---