Page 137 of The Score We Never Settled

“What about it?”

He’s a sucker for punishment.

“I’ve always thought about riding you with it on,” I answer honestly, my mouth having its own field day of dirty talk because I’m years past due and it just will not stop tempting and flirting with this man. “Screwing one of the best hitters in the game has always been on my bucket list.”

“You have the same thoughts about Julian Erza?” He shoves into me harder as if I had had those thoughts, but I haven’t obviously. “Because he’s playin’ tonight.”

“Just one. One I’ve been obsessed with since I was sixteen and made blue bracelets for.”

Briggs lightly bites down on my earlobe and sneers with lust in his tone, “Come on my cock right now. Milk it. Coat that shit. Ride it, whatever you want. Just give it to me, and I’ll let you do whatever you want to me later.”

“Promise?”

He hums his approval that I don’t back down from my previous words. “Absolutely, I fuckin’ promise. Spread your legs wider.”

I do, and he lifts one of my legs to prop my knee against the glass, sinking into me at a new angle, and a deprived moan escapes my lips.

Briggs grunts, the sound reverberating through my whole body and core, sending another rippling effect of butterflies erupting throughout.

He kisses my neck, drawing long lashes with his tongue in their wake. That mixed with how he stretches me with each thrust, I combust with the sensations of it all in one perfectly sexed-up cocktail.

Briggs pulls back, coming up to my face to drown out the moans and swallows them whole, and then his body quakes with a mutteredfuckas he comes down as well.

With mixed exhales and attempts to catch our breath, Briggs nestles his face right back into the crook of my shoulder again.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he moans with irritation. “I’ve had you for less than twenty-four hours, and it’s not enough.”

“I’m going to the game, goofball.”

“But my cock is not gonna be inside you during that time. And I want my wife in my arms for the rest of the day and night. I need my girl.”

“I’ll be right here when you win.” I inhale, the next words a bit choked in my throat, but I push through because I have and want to. “And I’m movin’ into our home.”

Briggs immediately pulls out of me and spins me around, just to crowd my space again. “You’re doing what now?”

His green eyes sparkle with warmth and excitement, and it doesn’t appear like he could contain it if he tried.

“I’m movin’ in,” I repeat calmly. “And I’ve hired Adeline at the bakery, promoted Blake to general manager, so I can come with you on the road sometimes when you play. That’s what I’ve been doing and working on since you left. I’ll probably hire one more girl, but I don’t think I can afford?—”

“Wecan afford it,” he interrupts, running the pad of his index finger along my jaw. “We can definitely afford it, Short Stop.”

“But I?—”

“We’re married. You didn’t sign a prenup. You’re already on my bank accounts. We can afford it.”

I swear, my heart grows two sizes bigger with his support and how he’s already planned this whole future with us, even when we weren’t our best.

“You thought of everything, didn’t you?”

“Down to our firstborn son’s name.”

My nose wrinkles up because whoa. “Our firstborn—what’s the name?”

“Haze.”

Now, my brows clench. “Where did you get that?”

“I lost a bet with Josiah a few years back. He beat my batting average by a hundredth, and it’s his middle name. If I lost, I named my damn kid after him as a friendly reminder that I lost.”