“I've got one last confession,” she blurted out in a panic.
I ground to a halt, my heart fluttering with a little worry. “What's that?”
She squeezed her eyes shut and admitted it. “It was me. I added you on Facebook.”
“I fuckingknewit!” I laughed. “So you knew that all along?”
“No. I forgot—or made myself forget, I dunno. But while you were gone, I searched my e-mail and found the confirmation from Facebook. Five years ago, I added you. The day you were drafted, in fact. And then the memory came back.”
“Tell me,” I said. And slowly, I started thrusting back into her—and she struggled to speak without moaning and gasping for air.
“Well … I was hanging with some friends—ohh!—and, ugh, we watched the draft on TV. We were all talking about what a dick you are … and how glad we were that we wouldn't have to see you—”
I sunk my cock deeper into her, and the words got caught right in her throat. Her whole body quivered on the end of my cock.
“Go on,” I teased.
“Fuck that's good!” she gasped. “But I wassecretly sad we wouldn't see each other anymore. You looked so cute in your—ooh!—suit when you got drafted, Beau … I hated it … I hatedyou. But I couldn't let you go.”
I grinned. “That's a hot story, babe.” With every pump into her, my cock displaced more of the cream I'd unloaded into her earlier—and a trickle of frothy cum dribbled down her ass cheeks and pooled on the bed sheets.
“Fuck, Beau,” she panted. “This—is a bad idea. Bad, bad idea.”
“Since when are we a bad idea?” I asked.
“Since you've got ahockey gameto go to, mister,” she panted, pointing at the clock.
But her hips writhed with me, daring me to thrust into her again.
“We better make it quick then, huh?”
I sunk my weight into her wet, velvet grip. Our lips met, and she let out a deep, sexy moan—right into my mouth.
Hell yeah. I'm fuckin' crazy about this girl.
Epilogue
One and a Half Years Later
Beau & Camille
When Camille exited the plane and walked through the departure gate at Denver International Airport, she only needed a second to pick Beau out from the waiting crowd—but then, with his tall and broad frame, he towered over everyone around.
That was just one of the many deeply satisfying niceties about dating a professional athlete.
Camille hurried to her fiance and threw her arms around his neck. He scooped her up in his arms and brought her lips to his.
It'd been three weeks since they'd seen each other last. In their first few months of dating, getting to see each other every three weeks would've been a luxury. But as their bond deepened and grew, and their visits grew more frequent, their tolerance to time spent apart quickly began to diminish.
These days? Three weeks apart was a special kind of hell. Phone calls and video chats were great, but neither could replace being righttherewith your lover, being able to touch and smell and taste them. In some ways, all that technology seemed a bit of a tease, and only made Beau and Camille miss each other worse.
“Hi Beau!” she said once they finally managed to pry themselves apart from each other.
“Hey babe. How was the flight?”
“Fine.” She paused as her face lit with ecstasy. “So glad I won't be needing it anymore.”
Beau returned a smile that was every bit as happy. “Me too.”
