Page 114 of Stutter

“Thank you, sir.”

“Didn’t see the part where you hurt your hand.” He says, eyes flicking to my bloody, bruising fist.

I give one shake of my head. “Just part of the game, sir.”

There goes that sickening feeling again. The kind not even sex with Raven could cure.

“Take care of that hand. I’ll see you at the wake tomorrow?”

I will say this has been the worst part of my baby getting her revenge – all the fucking funerals.

“I’ll be there.”

He nods, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Good, good. Glad to see we’re going to the bowl.”

“Two weeks.”

“I’ll be there,” he says, walking away.

I know he will.

Raven turns to me, quirking a dark brow, and whatever I said about sex with her couldn’t cure what I’m feeling was a total lie. Fuck, those light brown eyes kill me. I kiss her forehead, her nose, and then her soft lips. Yeah, my dick’s already threatening to get chafed by my zipper.

“You’re so beautiful, baby.” I say, because it’s true and she leans into my hug further. I thread my fingers in hers and tuga little. “C’mon. I told Damon to order pizza from that gourmet place you like on Seventh so it’s there by the time we get to Maverick’s.”

“Are you-“

“Shh baby,” I interrupt at the same time the door to the locker room opens. “Not here. Never here. We’ll talk about it when we get there.”

She gives one solemn nod, and we go.

Because I’ll never keep anything from my girl.

And she trusts me not to.

Chapter Twenty- Seven

Maverick.

The bell to the front door buzzes, and Damon goes to answer it, grabbing the pizzas from the older man delivering them. It’s crazy how I went from eating a lonely dinner every night to having to order three gourmet pizzas just make sure a ‘growing’ wide receiver ‘feeds his muscles’ properly, a demented doctor is satisfied, and my girlfriend does her little happy dance while munching on her food, and of course myself.

I have barely kept to my bland diet since Damon has begun to also feed me on the regular, and I don’t mind it. The man can cook. But I’m sure always feeding us must drain the man. We have groceries delivered almost every day. He says once we move into the home he wants to purchase for Raven in New York, he’ll get us a chef, but I really think he won’t stop cooking. The man is feeder.

As soon as Raven even looks a little sad, he’s handing the girl something to munch on be it fruit of some sort, a sandwich or an entire meal along with a bottle of water. He has appointed himself her personal watchdog, as if Jonas wasn’t already doing his part as her lapdog.

Christ, I have no idea howshe can deal with all of our different personalities.

I suppose having enough orgasms to keep her satiated and slightly unable to argue with us helps a little.

A shiver runs down my spine of our earlier activities before Jonas’ game, when I was so deep in her cunt she would grimace and then ask for more. It’s the only time it’s hard for me to deny her anything.

Not when she begs so prettily.

I grab the plates from the cabinet as Damon sets the pizzas down on the table, the scent so delicious my stomach growls loudly and we both laugh. It’s… pleasant… having him around. “How much longer until they’re here?” I ask, grabbing cups.

He checks his phone and then his brows furrow. “They’re crossing the bridge now.”

“They should’ve been here already. Do you think something happened?”

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