“Oh, fuck, Scarlett. I’m gonna come, baby girl,” he groans as he coats the back of my throat with his release. I swallow every last drop, desperate to drag out his pleasure. “That’s my girl. You took me so well.”
Holy shit.I practically purr from his praise.
Bennett helps me sit up before tucking himself back into his boxers and pants. When he goes to grab his tie, I shake my head and tsk at him. “Nah, I don’t think so. If you get to keep a memento, then so do I.”
I grab the satin tie and drop it into my bag. “Besides, I think I prefer your outfit without the tie. You don’t look quite as polished, and I like the slightly-out-of-control version of you,” I admit.
“Only you could make me lose control,” he confesses, and my heart works overtime to settle my racing pulse.
Bennett looks at his watch again and says, “Speaking of my impeccable timing, looks like you’ll be right on time to pick up Gems and Gunner. Are they excited to come to the game?”
“Yeah, they can’t wait. I’m embarrassed to admit this will be Gunner’s first Wolverines game,” I confess and feel my cheeks heat.
“Gunner may have mentioned that to me last night, so I thought I’d bring supplies,” he says as he holds up three lime green gift bags. I’m not sure how I missed those, I guess I was a bit distracted by all that is Bennett in his maroon suit.
“What do you have there?” I ask as I admire his suddenly bashful smile.
“Here, this one’s for you,” he tells me as he hands me a bag with my name written on the tag. I open it to find a black Minnesota Wolverines jersey with lime green lettering on the back that reads WILSON and a green number seven stitched across the back and each sleeve. “I got one for Gemma and Gunner in each of their sizes as well,” he says, setting the other two bags on my desk.
“I love it, thank you, BB. They’re going to love theirs too,” I tell him before wrapping my arms around his neck and placing a quick kiss on his cheek.
“BB?” he questions, wrapping his arms around my waist but pulling his face back to quirk his brow.
I playfully roll my eyes. “Benny Boy, obviously.”
“Oh yeah,obviously,” he mocks, rolling his eyes right back but gripping my waist tighter to press me firmly against him. “So what’s with the cheek?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you really going to cheek me after all . . .that?” he asks, gesturing to my desk and chair.
My cheeks heat, and I don’t have time to respond before he continues. “I think I’ve got another new pregame superstition—no cheek kisses on game days, only passionate ones where you leave me wanting more.”
“Mmm,” I pause, pretending to ponder his little demand. “I feel like a cheek kiss leaves you wanting more, therefore you’ll play harder to earn the passionate, toe-curling kisses after the game.”
“Goddammit, why’d I have to go and get engaged to such a woman who’s so much smarter than me? You’re right, I will play harder if you leave me wanting more.”
“Oh, my,” I gasp. “Did Bennett Wilson not only admit that his fiancée was right, but that she’s also smarter than him? Holy, shit. The world is ending!”
My theatrics earn me a swat on my ass and I have to bite back the moan that threatens to escape. Bennett’s splayed palms rub over the fabric covering my ass as he hums to himself. “I think visiting you in your office is my new favorite pregame ritual for home games.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he echoes, dropping a quick kiss on my forehead. When he steps out of my embrace, he holds my hands out in front of me and looks me up from head to toe. “You look beautiful today, Scar. Have I told you that?”
“No, but compliments will get you everything,” I tell him.
“I’ll make note of that.”
“You do that. Alright, you better get out of here before I’m late to pick the kids up. I’ll see you after the game?”
“I’ll see you in the press room,” he agrees, placing one last kiss on top of my engagement ring.
When he drops my left hand, I lift it up and wiggle my fingers at him. “I’ll be the one in a Wilson jersey with this massive rock on my finger.”
He just shakes his head as he turns to open my office door, but before he turns the handle, I give him one last pregame pep talk. “The kids are staying with my grandparents tonight.” That causes him to freeze, so Icontinue, “If you play well, I thought maybe we could have a sleepover in your condo before you put it on the market. What do you say, Cap?”
“I say it’s going to be one hell of a night, Red. Pack a bag. Or don’t—I’d love to see you in nothing but my jersey.”
