Dearest Series Boxed Set (83 page)

He laughs, and the sound fills the car. “Maddie McDermott, are you superstitious? I had no idea.”

“I simply do not believe in messing with a good thing right before the playoffs.” And yes, I’m a teeny bit superstitious.

He frowns. “Hmm. That throws a wrench in my plans.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you aren’t up for any change before the playoffs, then you’ll have to wait for us to redo your office.”

“What office?”

“The one we’re making in the guest room, so you can work.”

My heart warms at his offer. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I know, but I want you to have a space of your own. Oh, and one more thing. Keep next weekend open. After my game, we have plans.”

“What do you mean we have plans?”

Tapping the steering wheel, he says, “We. Have. Plans.” When I don’t respond, he adds, “I plan to take my girlfriend on another date.” And then he winks.

High school Maddie squees.

T
he last few
months have been nothing short of insane, but moving in with Daren, having him with me, has helped.

After Brad was arrested, the media frenzy got worse, but soon another scandal replaced mine. The fallout, though, was significant. Roger resigned over how the station handled my story. Spencer used every outtake with Daren, every smile and interaction with him to milk the ratings. And there was nothing I could do about it. My old boss has since gotten another job. I apologized to Roger for lying to him about Daren, and he told me I'm a hard worker and will land on my feet once the dust settles. I know I disappointed him, but I also know I love Daren. So no matter how Daren and I got here, no matter how difficult our journey has been, I wouldn't take it back because he feels like my forever.

Nicole told investigators that Brad would ask her about me, and she merely thought he was nursing a crush and not being a full-on stalker. She maintains she didn't have anything to do with me being hacked, but I can't be positive she wasn't one of the anonymous sources that shared details only someone in my office would have known, like the flowers Daren sent me. I suppose it doesn't matter since I don't trust her anyway. Just last month, she was offered a job with a big celebrity news show in Los Angeles. She took it.

After Brad's arrest, I tried to block out the media frenzy as much as possible. I worked out in Daren’s home gym. I took yoga classes and hung out with our close friends. For the first time ever, I stopped watching the news. Instead, I read Sheri’s steamy books, practiced my new sex moves on Daren at night—which he loved—and learned to relax.

By February, I came to peace with everything. I even started getting offers from a few small stations in the Midwest to do news, and ESPN offered me a full-time job. I finally agreed to do a few sports segments a month for them because I could stay local. I told them in no uncertain terms that there was no way I was leaving Boston. Not with Daren here. ESPN agreed.

His team went all the way and made it to the Super Bowl. They lost in overtime, but Daren had a spectacular game. I couldn’t have been prouder.

Now, flipping open my new laptop, one that Daren bought for me a few months ago, I take the Post-It off the camera and finish tweaking my weekly YouTube segment.

Daren was the one who suggested I try video blogging. I started with something simple. Me. People had so many questions about what happened, and I got tired of dodging the press, so I began by explaining how everything went down last fall and how I got hacked by Brad. He used a common spyware called a RAT—Remote Access Trojan—to lurk on my computer and spy on me. He gained full access to my email, docs, and camera. And after I noticed the camera light that one night, he made sure to turn it off the next time he filmed me. Then the creeper hacked my phone by emailing me a virus.

I guess I was lucky in a way. Because all of those gifs were taken from actual videos, but fortunately, those didn’t leak. Neither did my weekly Out-Skanking texts with Clementine, thank God!

My first video blog segment ended with tips on protecting yourself from RATting, which included getting the latest anti-spyware, covering your laptop camera when it’s not in use, changing passwords frequently, and only using a secure server. Granted, there was nothing I could do to protect myself from Brad given that he was supposed to be the one to protect me from being hacked, but for the average person, those suggestions can help.

The morning after I uploaded the story, I woke up to find my little video trending on YouTube. Twenty-four hours later, I had almost a half-million views. Then the job offers really started to stream in.

But Daren’s right. I’ve been running at a hundred miles an hour for too long, so I’ve been using this time to cover what I want, how I want. My segments are getting picked up by news stations, and I don’t have to show any skin to make some asshole producer happy. Of course, I still cover football on occasion. But now it’s because I want to.

“You ready?” Daren asks, slipping on a baseball cap.

“Yes.”

He tosses the ball to me. “You need to watch Clementine closer this time. She got by you last weekend on a reverse.”

Laughing, I nod. “All right, Clutch. But
you
need to remember that this is
touch
football and not actually tackle any of the guys. I was afraid you almost dislocated Jax’s arm last time.”

“He can take it. He’s a big boy.”

“No doubt. But still. Play nice.”

“Babe, I always play nice.” Daren bats his eyelashes innocently, and I shake my head, fighting a grin.

“And freaking pass the ball to Gavin. He’s always open.”

Daren grumbles, but I know he’s just being a brat. I follow behind him, but he stops so quickly I stumble into him. He turns to me and asks, “If I pass to Gavin, can I have brownies when we get home?”

That’s become our code. I chuckle, placing my hands on his waist. “Honey, you had ‘brownies’ this morning. Twice. Do you really need them again?”

His head rears back. “Sweet thing, I always need your brownies.” And then he tosses me over his shoulder, smacks my ass, and carries me out the door squealing.

I
can’t get
over how much fucking traffic there is for a Sunday night. My phone lights up where it’s resting on the dashboard, and I check to make sure it’s not Maddie before I toss it onto the passenger seat.

My head is all over the place. If I take a call, even with a hands-free setup, I’m likely to drive into the median. Christ, I need to calm down.

Deep breaths.
Breathe the fuck in and exhale the fuck out.

Finally, I get to our neighborhood, which is decked out in Rebel flags. Partygoers from the corner bar rush out into the street and start cheering, and I laugh and try my best not to run anyone over.

I’m proud, but right now, there’s only one person I want to celebrate with, and if I don’t get home in exactly three minutes, I’m gonna lose my shit.

My wheels squeal to a stop, and I grab my phone and bag and race in. Maddie said she wouldn’t freak out during the game, but I know how she gets. And she is in no condition to be stressed out.

When I open the front door, my eyes immediately land on her. Her head tilts to the left and her left eyebrow raises as she picks up her phone.

“Daren Sloan, how the hell did you get home that fast? I told you I was fine. See?” She waves her arms at herself. “Fine.” She starts to push off the couch.

“Don’t, babe. Stay put. I’ll be right there. Let me wash my hands first.” Because you can’t be too careful. You’d be surprised how many germs you’d find on doorknobs and handles. I really should get more disinfectant wipes.

In record time, I’ve kicked off my shoes and tossed off my coat. Maddie sighs back into the couch, and when I’ve washed up, I sit next to her and wrap my arms around her as gently as I can.

“Honey, I’m not going to break,” she chides, tilting her head up to kiss me.

I nibble on her sweet bottom lip that tastes like cherry Chapstick before I scoop her in my arms. She squeals and grips my shoulders, and I kiss her long and deep.

“Mm. Why, Mr. Sloan, I dare say you missed me. Which is saying something since I saw you this morning.”

“Why, Mrs. Sloan, of course I miss you. Every minute that we’re apart.”

She leans back and places her palm on my face, and I lean into her. Her black hair is tied back in a braid, and she’s so damn beautiful, my chest hurts.

“You’re a smooth talker, Clutch.” She places a soft kiss on my lips. “I dare say you could have your way with me when you talk like that.”

My dick hardens at the mere mention of having sex with my wife. If I thought she was beautiful when I met her, she’s downright breathtaking now.

I cough, trying not to get ahead of myself. “Wildcat, I thought you needed to take it easy. Dr. Klein said—”

“Dr. Klein said I could do whatever I felt comfortable doing as long as I’m not on my stomach.”

I work my jaw back and forth. “So last night—”

“Last night you needed rest. You had the conference championship today, and you kicked all kinds of ass. In fact, I just won a hundred bucks off your game in a pool the yoga girls put together.”

My head tilts back as I bark out a laugh. “Babe, I don’t know where to start with that.” She smiles proudly and bats those long lashes at me. “So you held out last night because of
my
game?”

“Yes.”

“And you
bet
on my game?”

“Yes.”

“And you can get naked tonight?”

“Oh, yes.”

That’s all it takes for me to lift her up and stalk toward our bedroom. My little minx has been holding out. She giggles against my neck, and my heart starts to race. Because I am one lucky motherfucker.

I place her gently on our king-sized bed, and she looks up at me with such adoration in her eyes, I might melt on the spot. She unties her braid because she knows how much I love it loose when we’re together.

Threading my fingers through her long tresses, I lean down to kiss her, and she opens her mouth to let me in. She sucks on my tongue in that way that makes me a little crazed with lust while her hands make quick work of my belt and jeans.

Reaching back behind my neck, I tear off my t-shirt. She grabs my neck and pulls me down to kiss her again while she handles me with long, confident strokes. After being together for three and a half years, this girl can still get me off in about two minutes flat if I let her.

“Nope. Not happening.” I grab her wrist and place a kiss on her palm before I reach down for the hem of her shirt. She looks up at me shyly. I can see the hint of insecurity in her eyes. Which is crazy because she’s just as hot now as she was before. “Babe, I love your body. You look amazing. Would I be this hard if you weren’t?”

I stroke my cock and her eyes widen. She loves when I do this.

Her tongue darts out to lick her lips, and then she nods and pulls off her t-shirt.

A groan escapes me when I see her. My hands immediately fall to her full breasts, and I take care to not be too rough. Maddie likes it rough, but we’re doing this my way. I’ll get her there in the end, so my girl will just have to compromise.

“Scoot back.”

She leans back on her elbows, and I kneel between her legs and hunch over her, taking my time to kiss a wet trail over her soft skin. When I reach her breasts, she falls back farther and threads her fingers into my hair.

I suck on her taut nipple, and she tightens her grip. And while there’s nothing more I want to do than unravel my little wildcat, when I reach her swollen stomach, my breath catches in my throat.

“Hi, little slugger,” I choke out before I rest my head on Maddie’s tummy, being sure to not put too much weight on her.

She strokes my hair, and I close my eyes, overwhelmed by the many blessings in my life. She’s eight months pregnant, and I want to spend every waking hour with my wife before he arrives.

I don’t know how I’m going to handle leaving her for the Super Bowl in two weeks, but I’ve already chartered a private plane back. Maddie wants to come, but I’m worried the stress of traveling will be too much.

“Are you okay?” she whispers. “You haven’t iced down tonight. I got carried away. We really should be icing your shoulder.”

God, I love this woman. She always puts me first. Which only makes me raise her pedestal higher. “I’m fine, baby. I just love you so much I can’t stand when we’re apart. Especially when you’re like this.”

Soft hands push the hair off my forehead. “Come here.”

When I reach our pillows, I pull her to me. My arm wraps around her tummy, and she places her hand over mine. “I’m sorry.” Maybe this isn’t a good idea.

Even in the darkness, I can see her scrunch her nose. “For what, honey?”

“I just don’t want to hurt you. Hurt the baby.”

She kisses my chest. “You won’t. I asked the doctor.”

“You did?” We’ve been pretty careful throughout the whole pregnancy—I mean, I’ve read about ten books on the topic—but in the last week, I swear our little guy grew like six inches.

“Yes, I did.”

“Really?” Maddie might be a dirty girl between the sheets, but she’s pretty modest in public. I can’t imagine her asking her ob-gyn about our sex life.

“Really. I told her, ‘Doc, my husband has a really big cock. Can he still fuck me hard?’”

I let out a choking cough. “Christ, Maddie.” I laugh, and she giggles against me.

“Actually, my exact words were, ‘My husband is well-endowed. How enthusiastically can we make love?”

Now I really laugh. “You did not say ‘make love.’”

She smacks me playfully. “I did too.”

“When I said it, you threatened my balls.”

“It doesn’t sound right when you say it. It usually gives me the heebie-jeebies, but it sounds like the appropriate term to use when talking to your physician.”

I nod, a smile still playing on my lips.

Yes, I told my wife I wanted to make love to her. Because yes, we have sex, and yes, we certainly fuck, but more often than not, what we do feels like some kind of metaphysical connection, and words fall short of describing it. What I have with my wife blows my mind. In fact, the word ‘love’ doesn’t really do it justice.

Her hand strokes my chest, and a little breathy sigh leaves her lips as she kisses my shoulder, and just like that, I’m hard again.

She turns on her side, and I roll to face her.

Our lips meet in the middle, and I get on my elbow to kiss her deeper. I take my time even though my dick is screaming for more once she tucks my cock between her thighs and starts rotating her hips. I angle up higher to stroke her swollen, wet skin, and her breathing comes out in short pants. Reaching down, I spread her around me and still her hips.

“Let me do the work, baby.”

I lift her leg over my thighs and grip my length to continue stroking her.

“Oh, God.” Her head falls back, and I place open-mouthed kisses on her neck. She smells so good, like lavender and honey.

I’m about to sink into her when she stills me with her palm. She looks up at me with those big blue eyes. “Can I ride you? I’ve looked it up. It’s totally safe,” she pants.

“Get your ass up here then.”

Except instead of facing me, she turns away for a reverse cowgirl.

When she sinks down, I swear white dots my vision. She’s so tight and warm, I grip her hips to stop.

“You feel too good. Hang on a sec.”

She glances over her shoulder with a sultry smile. Finally, after a few steadying breaths, I smack her ass. “Ride me, woman.”

Her laugher rings in our dark bedroom, and she begins to move. I only let her go for a few minutes because I don’t want her to overdo it.

“Lie back. I need to feel you.”

I reach behind me for a few pillows and prop myself up higher so that she won’t be uncomfortable. Because I know she’s not supposed to lie flat on her back.

Pressing her palm to my chest, she starts to recline on me. I put my hands on her shoulders to ease her back to my body.

She turns slightly so she can kiss me, and I stroke her cheek. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Maddie opens her eyes, and I see my future reflected back at me in ways I never imagined. She whispers, “I know the feeling.”

The kiss is endless, the kind that starts on your lips and travels down and grips your heart.

I’m moving in her, and she’s arching her back. I palm her swollen breasts, and she moans.

Her body feels so warm against mine, all soft curves and slopes. Her breath comes out in short pants, and when I reach down between her legs, it only takes a few strokes for her to clench around me.

There’s nothing like coming at the same time as your woman.

I pulse and swell inside her while she moans my name. Gripping her hips, I anchor her to me while I find my release.

We’re both sweaty and spent, and I ease her off me, reluctant to lose our connection.

“Baby, you okay?” I lean over to kiss her.

Her eyes are closed, a smile lingering on her lips. “Mm. Definitely.” She stretches up, and reaches over to grab me and pull me closer.

I kiss her forehead, and she sighs. “I love you, D.” She reaches up to play with my hair. “You played a great game today. I was so proud of you.”

“I love you too, sweet thing.”

Then I close my eyes and rest my head on her chest, never more content with my life. And for the first time ever, it has nothing to do with football.

Tears well in my eyes as I take in our friends who have gathered for our baby shower. I can’t believe Daren did this.

He ushered me out of the house this morning with two errands, and by the time I got back, our place was clean and blue streamers covered every wall. Catered food lines the dining room table, and when my eyes reach Daren, who looks so handsome in a black sweater and jeans, I bite my lip to keep from turning into a big crybaby.

This man is full of surprises. When we got married two years ago, he whisked me off to honeymoon in France because he knew I'd always wanted to visit Paris. And just as I thought we were returning home, he took me to Italy... and then Spain.

I sniffle, overwhelmed by the love I see in my husband's expression as he watches me. He leans down to kiss me and whispers, "Surprise."

I shake my head at him and laugh, trying my best to blink back the heat in my eyes, but as our friends congratulate us, the tears start to fall. Across the room, Jax is hugging Dani, and next to them, Gavin has his arm around Clementine.

“You’re early,” Sheri says from the hallway. She barrels up to me, and Daren yells, “Be gentle, Sher-bear!”

She rolls her eyes but instead of giving me a normal hug, she kneels down and places her head and hands on my stomach. I look up at our friends, who laugh.

“Are you guys going to tell us the name already?” Jax asks while he shoves a finger sandwich in his mouth. I try to focus on the conversation, even though Sheri is whispering to my huge baby bump.

Daren smiles and motions to me. I shake my head and tell him to do it.

He rubs his stubbled jaw as he walks around to me, waiting until Sheri ends her convo with our child to drop his arm around my shoulders. “We’re naming our son Daniel Mason Sloan. Daniel for Maddie’s dad and Mason for mine.”

I nod, feeling way too emotional for my own good. “But we’ll probably call him Mason.”

Everyone “awws” and Daren kisses my forehead.

We eat and open gifts, and I’m overwhelmed by the pint-sized onesies. I hold up the cutest outfit to my stomach and tears rush down my cheeks. “I love this.” I read the words out loud. “Real men snuggle.”

I look up, and Jax grins. “It’s true.”

“Thanks, guys.”

Clem hands me a tissue, and once we’ve opened all the gifts, Sheri heads home, and Clem ushers the guys down to the baby room to help assemble the crib and baby swing.

As we stand in the doorway watching the guys open the boxes, Clem asks, “Are you going stir crazy now that you’ve stopped working?”

“Surprisingly, no. We have so much to do before Mason arrives, and I’m loving just having time for us. Besides, I know I’ll be back in the full swing of things once I start co-hosting
Good Morning, Boston
in a few months. I was freaked out about leaving the baby, but the studio has a room all set up so I can nurse him.”