Page 78 of Power Play

twenty-nine

. . .

Al

After the game, I’m whistling while I shower and change. Mitchell throws a wet towel at me, but I don’t care. Two goals and an assist. I couldn’t do it without my wife and kid in the crowd. Tonight, I’m going to order dinner in, light some candles, and seduce my wife. After the absolute fucking torture of spending the last two nights sleeping fully clothed in my bed, I’m hoping she’ll be open to taking things a step further.

The guys and I reach the suite, and I beeline for Riley. The sight of her in my jersey makes my heart thump and my cock twitch. Adrenaline from the game still floods through my system, and it takes everything in me not to stalk across the room and claim her as mine like a caveman in front of everyone. As it is, I bite my lip so I don’t groan in front of half my teammates.

She turns away from her conversation with Bex and spots me, and a grin spreads over her face. Her eyes are bright as she drinks me in, frank appreciation in her gaze. My stomach clenches.

Desire coursing through my veins, I step right up beside her. I’m not sure who moves first, but the next thing I know she’s in my arms, her face buried in my chest. I breathe in her lavender shampoo, the comforting scent soothing my racing heart.

After a few moments, she pulls away, but she doesn’t go far. Riley rises onto her tiptoes and brushes her lips over mine in a sweet kiss. It’s not nearly enough. I’m addicted to the taste of her, to the soft press of her mouth to mine, to her breathy sighs.

“Hi,” she whispers.

My hand finds the nape of her neck, tugging her closer to me. “Hi,” I whisper back, before I kiss her again.

This one is decidedly less sweet. I scrape my teeth along her bottom lip, which parts on a gasp. Wasting no time, I slip my tongue into her mouth, hers coming out to tangle with mine. I thread my fingers through her hair, kissing the breath out of her.

A wolf whistle pierces the air.

“Get it, Gonzo,” Mitchell calls out.

“Get a room,” Logan counters.

When I pull away, Riley’s face is flushed red, her chest heaving. Her dark lipstick is smudged, and I trace my finger beneath her lip, rubbing away the berry color.

“Hi,” I say again, giddy with butterflies.

She laughs. “We’re not starting this again.” Emmy is settled in her stroller, playing with her feet. We skipped the booties this time in favor of footsie pajamas, which she seems to hate less. My girl still rebels against most clothes. I guess she really does take after me; I was a naked baby, too.

I reach into the stroller to tickle her belly, and she grins and babbles at me. My heart warms. My two girls, right where I want them to be.

Riley slips her hand into mine. “Let’s go home.”

Home. That sounds perfect.

We wind through the arena to the parking garage. An attendant has already brought my car around, the heat cranked. I help Riley into her seat and then get Emmy settled in the back.

We chat about the game, casual conversation punctuated by baby shrieks and giggles. My skin feels too tight for my body, like I’m about to burst with happiness.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” Riley says.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Don’t change clothes.”

My eyebrows lift. Usually, the first thing I do when I get home is put on something more comfortable than a suit and tie.

“Okay…”

“Trust me. It’ll be worth it.”

Once we get to the house, we settle Emmy in her high chair with a mashed avocado and some scrambled eggs. I snag Riley around the waist and pull her into me.

“Have I mentioned how much I like you in my jersey?” I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, my gaze pinging between her eyes and her lips.