Page 209 of Pucking Strong

“My only love.” His expression is adoring as he holds my gaze in the mirror and leans away. “Take your clothes off. Everything but the jacket.”

My hands are at the top of my pants, ready to shuck them down, when I stop. Excitement bursts like little pops of fireworks in my chest as I smile. “Make me.”

With a growl, Henrik folds me over the sink and jerks my pants down around my ankles. His hand wraps around to fist my hard dick, and I’m flying, rocking back against him. He’s already panting, watching my face in the mirror as he strokes me. “Will you never just do as I say?”

I huff a laugh that sounds more like a groan as he circles his thumb over my tip. “Is that what you want tonight, baby? Want me to get on my knees and treat you like a king?”

His brain short-circuits as his brow furrows. I laugh out loud. He’s just too damn easy. I spin around, ass pressed against the sink, my hands smoothing over his chest. “I’ll tell you what. Tonight, I’ll only be a brat until you get your dick inside me. Then I promise to melt in your arms and let you fuck me into oblivion. Deal?”

His frown deepens as he considers. “If you irritate me too greatly, am I free to spank you?”

I laugh again. “Like you even need to ask?” I kiss him, pressing my body against his. “Just you wait. We haven’t even started to dip our toes into the pleasure pool. I’ve got toys that’ll make you think your spirit was sucked out of your balls.”

His eyes go wide, and I can’t quite tell if there’s a hint of interest mixed in with his shock. “Fine, we’ll take it slow. No vibrating cock rings tonight.” Tipping my chin up, I kiss him again. “We have the rest of our lives to learn and play together, find out what the other really likes. For now, we’ll do things your way.”

I turn in his arms and slip out of my WAG jacket.

In the reflection, Henrik glares at me. “Teddy …”

Feeling confident and in control, I shrug out of my T-shirt, leaving me naked and Henrik fully clothed. For good measure, I tug off the folded teal bandana that was holding my locs back, tossing it to the floor. Then I slip back into the jacket and bend myself over the sink. “I believe you wanted to fuck me with nothing but your number on my back?”

Groaning, Henrik folds himself over me, his hands smoothing up my naked torso. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”

I rock back into each stroke of his hand on my dick, watching the possessive way he kisses and touches me in the mirror. I catch his eye and his hold on me softens. He flicks my hair aside and kisses the sensitive spot behind my ear.

“You have me,” I assure him. “Forever.”

Jacksonville Beach is swarming with families. It’s the opening night of the annual Deck the Chairs event. Sponsors bid to decorate one of fifty lifeguard chairs. What follows is six weeks of concerts, parades, and events for the holidays. There’s a musical light show and movies on the lawn. Food trucks provide dining options, while local businesses get to connect with members of the community.

My cold Swedish heart melts for Christmas, so I’ve always enjoyed attending—even before I had Teddy and Karolinaooh-ing andaah-ing on either side of me. She can finally bear weight on her leg. The cast is off, but she still has to wear a thick walking boot that wraps up around her shin, keeping the bone protected. She walks at my side, wearing a festive Christmas jumper and Santa hat, tugging at my hand every time she sees something fun.

Teddy and I are wearing jumpers too—at his insistence. His features a Christmas tree that actually lights up on the front. Mine has a glittery snowman. At this rate, I’ll be brushing glitter from my beard until New Year’s Eve.

We can’t walk ten feet down the lane before someone from the team is shouting our name and waving us down. The Rays always sponsor a chair, and it’s become tradition for the players and their families to take pictures with it each year. Many of the players use the picture as their Christmas card photo. I think that’s why Teddy has us dressed up like this.

“Hey, Karlsson family!” A very pregnant Rachel Price walks up, wheeling a wagon behind her. Their son Jamie sits inside it, playing with a bubble wand. “Love the Christmas sweaters.”

Caleb walks at her side, wearing the younger of their two boys in a sling. The toddler is crashed out asleep, mouth open. A mop of curly blond hair peeks out from the top of the baby sling.

“Hey,” Teddy waves in welcome. “Have you seen the chair yet?”

“Yeah, we just left Jake over there,” Rachel replies. “Poppy roped him into sticking around for a bit to take pictures with families.”

“Is it epic?”

Poppy’s been determined to win the chair-decorating contest for years, to no avail. Last year, our entry included an animatronic stingray that moved and sang carols.

Rachel shrugs. “Eh, it’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“We’re a house divided this year,” says Caleb.

“A house divided?” I repeat.

“Yeah, Out of the Net has a chair this year too,” Rachel replies. “So, we gotta support our man.”

“And our Tess,” Caleb adds.

Rachel laughs. “Right? You’d think this contest was as serious as the Olympics for the way she’s been running Ilmari ragged these last few weeks.”

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