Page 52 of Playing for Keeps

The kiss deepens, his hands everywhere at once. “I’ve wanted to tell you for weeks,” he groans.

“Me, too,” I pant, wrapping my legs around his waist, not caring about being sore anymore. This man, my husband, loves me—really loves me—not because of my family name or my musical talent or what I can do for his career. He lovesme.

Breaking the kiss, Gunnar traces patterns on my skin in the shower. His touch is reverent, like I'm something precious. "Why didn't you?"

He pinches my nipple, and I gasp. “Why didn’t you?” I lower a hand to his cock and squeeze, loving the sound this draws from his throat.

"Didn't want to overwhelm you. With everything happening with your father..."

I silence him with a kiss. "You're nothing like him. You make me feel safe. Loved." I slide my mouth wherever I can reach. “Protected but not controlled. Supported but not stifled. Free to be myself.” I pull back and meet his eye. “Also, I don’t want to talk about my father right now.”

Gunnar laughs against my lips, hoisting me just a wee bit higher against the wall and I feel the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. “You ready, baby? You want this?”

I nod. “Please.” The shower head is big enough with enough water pressure that neither of us is outside the warm spray. That, combined with the heat lamp in the bathroom, means the whole space is warm and slippery. Gunnar, soaped and rinsed and smelling amazing, licks the length of my throat as he eases inside my body, and every bit of me sighs at the welcome pressure. “Oh, I am so full, Gunny. Thank you.”

My head falls back against the shower wall as he starts to move. I cling to him as his hands dig into the flesh of my thighs while he utters filthy, appreciative words about my body.

“Look at those legs spread just for me, Emerson. Fuck, I’m so deep inside you. I feel every soft inch of your skin everywhere, baby. So wet and warm for me. Fucckkkkk.”

My skin hums with the need to release. After the day we spent together watching him crawl around the ice with rescued dogs and city kids who love his team, I’ve been desperate for this. I start to wriggle in his arms, rubbing my nipples along his chest, moaning at the friction. My nails dig into his tattooed flesh as he thrusts, grunting. It’s filthy and perfect and everything I never dared to want.

Being with Gunnar has let me become myself. “I love you,” I pant, tilting my hips until my clit is pressed against his pubic bone. “I love you so much, Gunny.”

I don’t mean to use a pet name for him, but it just feels right as my body starts pulsing. He beams at my words and reaction. “Oh shit, baby, I feel you starting to come. You like that?” I nod, biting my lip, so close I can see stars. “Yeah, take what you need, wife. Grind against me. I’m going to fill you up after you come. Fuck, Emerson. Fuck!”

I squeeze my legs around his waist, my belly jiggling with his thrusts, coming so hard I worry the waves will make him drop me. But I know he’s got me, keeping me safe. Gunnar presses his forehead against mine and bellows my name, a desperate shout as he pulses inside me, the warmth of his release as precious as the sound of him repeating that he loves me.

After, he lowers me to the floor, breathing heavily. “Salty, that was incredible. It’s never been this good for me.”

I smile, lazily running my fingers through his wet, shaggy hair. “Well, you know it’s never been good for me before you.”

He kisses my hand. “You just needed me to find you.”

“That’s more true than you know, Gunnar.” He kisses me, long and sweet, and reaches behind me to shut off the water. Someday, maybe I’ll care about our astronomical water bill, butfor now, I just want to revel in the sensation of my giant husband patting me dry with a fluffy towel, tying a matching one around his waist.

“I can’t wait to lie in bed beside you again.” His grin is contagious. I don’t know if it’s normal to feel drunk after sex, but it’s certainly a common occurrence for me. I hum as I pad into our bedroom, still naked but with a towel around my hair.

I slide under the covers that smell like him, like us, and I smile, thinking of all our mornings and nights ahead in this room. A thud at the door interrupts my thoughts, and Gunnar pulls on his sweats to go investigate.

He pads back into the room, holding an envelope and wearing a puzzled expression as he climbs into bed beside me. “Did you know this was delivered? It was shoved under the door.”

I shake my head and burrow against his side. The envelope is addressed to me, and I open it to reveal crisp white paper with an embossed letterhead from Weintraub, Stein and Associates, LLP. My stomach drops at the sight of my family’s attorney. “Should we read it together or pass it back and forth like old people with a newspaper?” I try to joke, but my voice trembles.

He huffs. “I don’t like the look of this.” I trace my finger along the seal, hesitating. Taking a deep breath, I begin to read aloud. My hands start to tremble, and my voice falters after the salutation.

"What is it?" Gunnar asks, leaning closer.

"It's... it's from my parents' lawyers." I swallow hard. "They're... they're filing for a conservatorship over me."

"A what?" Gunnar sits up straighter, all traces of post-intimacy relaxation gone.

“They’re trying to be my guardians, like Britney Spears’ parents.” I continue reading, my voice growing tighter with each sentence. "They're claiming I'm 'mentally unstable' and 'unableto make appropriate decisions for my own well-being.' That I'm 'delusional' and... and that I 'believe myself to be married when no valid marriage exists.'"

Gunnar's face darkens. "Son of a bitch. I totally forgot that fucking headline.” He starts to yank on his hair.

I turn to face him. “What do you mean?”

He swallows and tells me he received an alert back in New York that “sources” suggested our marriage was invalid. “And then I fucking forgot about it, and things were going so great, baby. I just thought it was gossip.”

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