The Game by Vi Keeland by Vi Keeland

Bella licked her lips. “I get to choose?”

“You do…”

She bit down on her bottom lip. “But they all sound so good.”

We were still naked from last night, so I gave a little tug to the sheet and her luscious tits were on display—so full, with the sexiest natural lilt to them. While she decided, I leaned in and sucked a pert nipple into my mouth, fluttering my tongue and sucking before biting down to give it a strong tug between my teeth. Then I did the same to the other.

Bella’s eyes were glazed over by the time I finished.

“What’s it going to be, sweetheart?”

“It’s hard to pick just one…”

“Oh, I wasn’t asking you to pick just one. I was asking you how you want it first this morning. I don’t have to be at the field for three hours. We have time for them all.”

“Ride you,” she breathed. “I want to ride you.”

“My face or my cock?”

“Your cock.”

God, those were the two best words to hear from her mouth. And the fact that she was shy about saying them, yet said them for me anyway, was sexy as shit.

I pulled myself up the bed to rest my back against the headboard, then held out my hand. Bella climbed on top of me, one thigh on either side of mine. I was about to check whether she was wet when I felt her dripping against my skin. “Lift…” I groaned.

Bella pushed up onto her knees, and I gripped my cock and positioned it near her opening. My crown glistened with anticipation.

“Look down while you take it. I want us both to watch your beautiful pussy swallow my cock.”

Bella rested her hands on my shoulders for balance and never took her eyes from our connection as she lowered herself. She was so wet and smooth; it felt like I was gripped in a velvet vise.

“Christ…” My head fell back against the headboard. “You’re so tight.”

She lifted up and sank back down, each time taking more of me inside her. When her ass hit my balls, she looked up at me, and our eyes locked.

“Ride me.” I reached around to the back of her head and fisted a handful of her hair, giving it a firm tug. “Ride me hard, sweetheart.”

With her head back, I had access to her neck. So I sucked along her pulse line as she rode me hard, lifting almost all the way off and then slamming back down, only to gyrate her hips. She moaned when I pressed my thumb to her clit and massaged small circles.

I’d told her to ride me, but I couldn’t help joining in. Grabbing her hips, I thrust up from underneath as she came down, sinking even deeper into her.

Bella’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as her orgasm took hold. “Christian!”

“That’s it. Say my name while you come, sweetheart.”

Her pussy squeezed, and I took over, lifting her up and yanking her back down as I thrust. She chanted my name over and over until it became one long moan. Then I kissed her until every last quake had wracked through her body and buried myself to the hilt with a roar.

After, I was more out of breath than when I ran the full length of the field.

“I love you, Bella Keating. You’re a gift.”

She flashed a crooked smile and wiggled her brows. “I love you, too, Christian Knox. But don’t get too comfy lying there just yet. If I’m your gift, I’m going to be one that keeps on giving.”





EPILOGUE




* * *



BELLA

7 YEARS LATER



“I think you need glasses, ref!” I yelled. “How could you not see that offsides?”

“Oh crap.” My husband climbed up the bleacher stairs two at a time. He looked at the person to the right of me, offering an apologetic smile. “Sorry. She gets hangry.”

“I’m not hangry.” I pointed to the field. “That ref has it in for us. He has since the start of the game.”

Christian sat next to me and handed me a big pretzel.

I frowned. “Did you remove the salt again?”

“Doc said to reduce your intake since your BP is already a little high.”

I rubbed my enormous belly and narrowed my eyes. “My blood pressure is a little high because you don’t know how to do anything like an average person—like have one child at a time.”

He leaned over and kissed my belly. “Who wants one little Bella when you can have two?”

“You won’t be saying that in thirteen years when they’re dating.”

Christian’s brows pulled tight. “Thirteen? Try thirty, sweetheart.”

Sadly for the two little girls in my belly, their father was serious. At least I had some years to work on him before we had to deal with dating. Though our other twins—Drew and Ben, who were now in kindergarten—had gotten a sack full of valentines last year when they were only in preschool. I blamed that on them having inherited their father’s dimples.

“There he is!” a teenage girl screeched behind us. “He is so freaking hot.”

I turned to find them pointing toward the entrance to the field, where the assistant coach was currently jogging in. Wyatt was now twenty-four and the starting kicker for New England, the team my husband had retired from only last season. But he also helped out with Drew and Ben’s pee-wee football team, assisting my grandfather, who was the head coach, whenever he could. Four years ago, Coach had moved up to New England to join us. He’d said he wanted to be closer to his family after the twins were born. And he was—because family has nothing to do with DNA. Tiffany and Rebecca had proven that when they’d stopped speaking to him after he called my boys his great grandchildren.