Page 67 of Final Down

“Hey, while I think this shit is super cool,umm, you should probably get it off before management sees it. They don’t want you in anything Cyclones that they didn’t make themselves or endorse,” Bryce utters in my ear.

“Right!” My eyes go wide, and I pull my jersey off as quickly as I slipped it on and tuck it in the bag for later.

“Maybe I can wear it later,” Peyton says in a low voice. She arches a brow, and suddenly all those imaginary times I touched her over the last few days come flooding to the surface of my mind.

I can’t exactly steal her away without spending time with the family first, especially after Reed drove an RV . . . err . . .tour busfor twenty-two straight hours to get them here in time for mygame. But thankfully, Reed pushes for an early dinner at one of his favorite spots in Portland, probably anxious to shut his eyes for ten hours before turning around and driving everyone back.

It’s just after eight and the sun has set by the time I get Peyton alone in our apartment, and the moment I carry her across the threshold, my mouth is on her body. While the thought of her in my jersey is sexy as hell, I really don’t want to wait for her to change just to get her undressed again, so I toss the plastic bag with my jersey onto the side table by the entry, then quickly go to work lifting the Cyclones T-shirt up her body and over her head.

“I wish I wasn’t so frumpy for you,” she says as I toss her shirt to the floor.

I nip at her neck, then drag my tongue along her jawline until my teeth graze her plump bottom lip.

“Frumpy is never a word I would equate with you.”

My hand traces the curve of her shoulder, pulling her bra strap down to her bicep so I can kiss her from her collarbone to the inside of her arm.

“I’m only going to get frumpier, too,” she says, still stuck on that word.

I pull back enough to press my finger to her lips and shake my head.

“Not frumpy. Beautiful.”

Her bottom lip tucks between her teeth as she lowers her chin and looks up at me through her lashes.

“You still think so? My jeans don’t fit anymore.”

Her hands move around the sides of her body to her tummy. Mine follow the same path until our fingers intertwine over her belly.

“The bigger this gets, the more amazing you are.” I press a chaste kiss on her lips before dropping to my knees and kissingher belly. Most people wouldn’t see the bump that I can see, but it’s there. She’s showing.

Our baby boy is growing.

“A boy,” I whisper again, looking up at her with a massive smile that forces my cheeks up so high my eyes squint. Peyton’s hands dive into my hair as our eyes meet.

“Our boy,” she says. “I told you so.”

I laugh softly and bite my bottom lip.

“You did,” I say, hooking my thumbs into the cotton waistband of her leggings and slowly rolling them over her hips.

“No cameras in here, right?” Peyton jokes.

I shake my head.

“Uh huh. So I can do anything I want,” I say, slipping her leggings all the way down and removing them, along with her tennies.

My palms wrap around her calves, then slide up to her ass as I move closer on my knees. I kiss between her legs, over the black satin triangle that covers her, as my fingers crawl up her curves, then hook the top of her panties and drag them down her hips. She unhooks her bra while stepping out of her undies, tossing it to the floor with the rest of her clothes, then moving her hands back into my hair.

My tongue slides into her swollen center, my mouth covering her pussy as I close my eyes and suck. She tastes like all my favorite things, and the sounds she makes when my tongue flicks against her clit makes my cock swell.

“Since I only have you until morning, I might need to fuck you all night,” I say, dragging my tongue over her once more before slowly standing and removing my button-down shirt.

“I slept all the way here,” she says with a devilish smile.

I lift her, and she wraps her legs around me as I carry her into the bedroom.

“And you can sleep all the way home.”

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