Page 91 of Goal Line
She snorts out a small laugh and rolls her eyes, like she’s saying,You and that ego.
But then she cups my face, leans in a bit closer and whispers,“Everything about that was special, Luke.” Clenching her core around me and smiling when she finds me still hard inside her, she tilts her hips forward and pushes back again. “But maybe you can be a good boy and give me a third orgasm, just to make it extra special?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
EVA
“Hey, baby.” Luke’s breath is hot in my ear as consciousness swims around me. I don’t want to wake up yet, but his words and my bladder are pulling me from sleep anyway.
“Hey,” I mumble without opening my eyes.
The bed moves as he sits up, and then he’s pressing his lips to my belly and saying, “And good morning, Baby Squash.”
I love that no matter how big this baby gets or what fruit or vegetable that app compares the baby’s size to, he or she will always be Baby Squash to Luke.
“I’m dead,” I groan, and his rumble of laughter shakes the bed. “But I have to pee. I don’t think I can even walk to the bathroom.”
“Can you really die from having too much sex?” Luke teases.
“Apparently, if that’s all you do for a day and a half, yes.” Igroan as I sit up and throw my legs over the edge of the bed. Every muscle in my body is sore, because I’ve used them all. We haven’t left the apartment since we got home from the Neon Cactus two nights ago, and I’m pretty sure we’ve had sex on every horizontal surface in this place.
I stand, but the spots at the edge of my vision have me putting both hands out for balance, and Luke’s goalie reflexes must kick in because he springs out of bed and is standing with his arms wrapped around me before I even realize what’s happened.
“Okay,” he says. “Clearly, it’s time to get some food and water in you.”
I breathe in deeply as I rest my head back on his shoulder, and the dizziness fades. “First, I have to pee, though,” I tell him. “Baby Squash is dancing on my damn bladder.”
“Okay. I’ll walk you in there, and then to the kitchen when you’re done. We’re getting you hydrated and fed before everyone arrives for this interview.”
“What time is it?” I ask, still feeling quite groggy. I’ve barely slept the last two nights as Luke and I spent every waking moment exploring long-suppressed desires and confessing all our pent-up feelings for each other.
When we were still just friends, I would’ve said I’ve never felt closer to another person than to Luke, but what’s shifted between us in the last two days puts the relationship on an entirely different plane of reality—one I didn’t believe existed.
And now, I’m borderline hostile about the fact that people from the magazine are showing up here this morning. First to arrive will be hair and makeup, then wardrobe, then Jillian Vance, the celebrity reporter who will interview us.Morgan’s already provided the article we’re “allowing” them to publish, but we’ve agreed to meet with Jillian so she can add in some personal details and observations about us as a couple.
“Eight-thirty,” Luke says, and I groan, because I’m pretty sure that means I got about four hours of sleep. If I look half as tired as I feel, it’s a good thing a professional makeup artist will be here in an hour and a half.
When he leads me into his bathroom and I catch sight of myself in the mirrors above the vanity, my heart sinks. I look well and truly wrecked—my thick, long hair is a matted mess, the purple bags under my eyes are like welts, and the skin on my face, neck, and chest looks like someone ran sandpaper over it. I look like a woman who just spent the last thirty-six hours being fucked senseless by her husband.
Husband. This marriage has gone from a stark reminder of everything I couldn’t have, to everything I’ve ever wanted, all in the span of a couple of weeks. I’m the luckiest girl on the planet, and I’m too exhausted right now to fully appreciate it.
“All right, Peaches,” he says, turning me toward him so I can sit on the toilet.
“I’m not peeing in front of you.” I nod toward the door with narrowed eyes.
Luke chuckles, like it’s ridiculous that I’ve been stark naked with him for the last day and a half, had his cum dripping out of me, and let him use my body in nearly every way imaginable—yet I won’t pee in front of him. “I’m going to go grab you a T-shirt, and then I’ll be right outside the door,” he says. “Please don’t stand up too quickly when you’re done.”
“Promise.”
Once I’m finished and have washed my hands, I run a brush through my hair and open the bathroom door. As promised, Luke is waiting for me and pulls one of his Rebels T-shirts over my head so I can slip my arms inside. This soft shirt probably clings to every muscle in his upper body, but it’s basically a dress on me.
“Let’s go make you a breakfast sandwich, and then we’re going to shower.”
“Luke, if we get in that shower together, we probably won’t be out by the time the people from the magazine start showing up.” And then I remember. “Oh, shit. Morgan said she’d get here before they did, so we can review our story and she can make sure we don’t say anything that we wouldn’t want to make it into the article.”
“We’ll have to save showering together for another time because we need to hustle,” he says, giving my butt a little smack that has us both laughing. “Let’s go.”
From my spot on the bench where I’m currently trying not to die after a round of weighted hip thrusts, I look over at Luke. The late afternoon light from the floor-to-ceiling windows in the gym bounces off the thin sheen of sweat across his bare skin, highlighting the dips and valleys of his muscular build. His shorts are low on his hips, and thatVof muscles headed into his waistband has me wanting to peel off my clothes.
