Page 98 of The Future Play

I trail my finger over the low-cut V of her tank top. “How was your day? How was the tournament?”

She gets a catlike smile. “We won.”

“Of course you did. You’re amazing.” A flicker of pain shoots through me. Leaving her is hard every time, and I hate it more when I miss things like that. “I wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Trevor recorded a bunch of it. He and Jesse were commentating through the whole final match.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course they were.”

“How was the game?”

“We lost. 7-2.”

“I’m sorry, babe.” She kisses my neck.

“It’s okay. Part of life. I gave up two runs early on and our team wasn’t hitting well. Then the reliever gave up five.”

“Five? And you have to take the loss for that? I hate baseball statistics,” she seethes. It’s so cute how invested in all things baseball she’s become. She and Rae have bonded over that. If we weren’t an antiquated society and allowed women to play professional baseball too, Rae would’ve been the one who wanted to go pro.

Trailing my fingers through her hair, I look into her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m just happy to be home.”

“I’m happy you’re home. And I know exactly how to cheer you up.”

I arch my brow. “Oh really?”

“Yes.” She grazes her lips over my jaw. “You need to fuck my mouth.”

My cock, which had died down to a semi, comes roaring back to life.

“Oh, really?”

“Mhm. Stand up.”

I do as she says, and pull my shirt off as I go, breathing a sigh of relief when the button down hits the floor. Tugging my T-shirt off next, I move to drop my pants.

When I look down at my girl, she’s lying in the center of the bed, her head tipped back over the edge, mouth open for me.

Ah, fuck.

She’s right. She knows exactly what will cheer me up.

Turns out Amanda loves to be out of control in the bedroom—some of the time at least. Sometimes she owns me and rides me until we’re both shaking messes. Others she pins me down and blows me, not letting me have an ounce of control. But then there’s the side of her that’s most open and vulnerable, and she loves to be fucked, spanked, choked, have her hair pulled, and choke on my cock.

I’m happy to oblige.

Her hand wraps around the base of my cock, then I grab one of her tits and hold her as I sink into the wet heat of her mouth.

The groan I let out is unholy, and a shiver runs through me.

As much as I’d love to stand here and own her mouth like this for as long as possible, watching her eyes water as she gags, I can’t hold out. Being apart for days at a time means sometimes our reunion sex is short-lived—at least the first round. But as I come down her throat to the sound of her choking and sputtering on my cum, it’s hard to care.

I rub her cheeks as I pull away, then grab her water bottle while she sits up.

“Okay?”

She grins up at me. “I’m perfect.”

Sighing, I look around. I hate being away, but there’s nothing like coming home.

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