Chapter 32
Shea
“What's this about?” Brynn asked again and again as I led her by the hand to the living room.
We stopped in front of the family photographs.
“I wanted to show you these,” I said.
“I've looked at them dozens of times already,” she said, laughing as if I'd lost my mind. “You really think I wouldn't have noticed the family pictures after two months of living here?”
“I want you to look at this one.”
I pointed out a specific picture of me with the kids. It was after the annual Boston Brawlers Family Day Skate. In the photo, I knelt on one knee, and the kids—donning Dad's name and number and wearing their ice skates—were huddled around me. I had eight-year-old Chloe on my left side, and the four-year-old twins on the other side.
“Okay. I'm looking. What am I supposed to see when I look at this picture, exactly?” Brynn asked.
“Hopefully nothing,” I said calmly.
“Okay. I don't think I see anything. Um, do I? I don't know what I'm supposed to see or not see, Shea!” She gave a confused laugh.
I grinned. “The other night, you mentioned that Chloe might feel less guilty about the divorce if she knew that Cynthia had other affairs. And I told you, I didn't want to do that, because it could cause problems between her and Cynthia.”
“But you also said something about the twins,” Brynn said, and she examined the photo closer.
I nodded. “This picture pains me to look at, Brynn, but it's also the most important picture I have.”
“Why?”
“First of all, this was the first Brawlers Family Day Skate since the divorce. It was three months to the day, to be exact.”
“That must've been tough,” Brynn said.
“I put on a good smile for the kids, but yeah, I was in a pretty bad state.”
“Was Buddy Parker there that day?”
“No. When I learned about his affair with Cynthia, I went to management and he was traded less than twenty-four hours later. Good thing, because I told the Brawlers brass that I might kill the guy with my own two hands if I ever had to share the ice with him again. Never felt so betrayed in my life. Not just by my wife but by one of my best friends? Ugh.”
“Did your teammates know?”
“I didn't tell anybody. But there were rumors. Especially after the trade. I suspect some guys knew all along.” I shrugged. “I had to forget it and move on, though.”
“I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. That must've been really tough.”
“Uh huh.” I pointed at the picture. “The second reason this picture is so important to me is because that was the same day I got the paternity test results for my children.”
“Wait.” Brynn turned to me, her jaw unhinged. “Shea … are you saying what I think you're saying?”
“Chloe's mine. Nick and Cam, though?” I forced a smile through the pain. “But seeing those boys wearing my jersey, smiling so big, so happy to be on the ice with their Daddy that day? I couldn't take that away from them, Brynn. Not then, not ever. I swore I'd do my best to forget it and raise those boys as my own.”
“So they still don't know?”
“Nope.”
“Does Cynthia know?”
“See, that's another thing. I didn't want to tell her, because like I said, as far as I'm concerned, those boys are mine. On the other hand, there might be some guy out there with no idea that he has twins. And maybe the twins would someday want to know their real father? It doesn't seem right to keep the truth from everyone.”
Brynn hooked her arm through mine. “You're such a good man.”
“So one day I talked to Cynthia, and I hinted at the possibility that maybe, just maybe there could be a chance that the twins weren't mine—and boy, that set her off. She accused me of trying to get a lower child support payment, and she'd see me in court, blah blah blah. Whatever. Not worth the hassle to me. I figure, deep down, she very well might know. And maybe she has a guilty conscience about it. Does she even know who their real dad is? I know about two affairs, but how many were there truly? Who knows. I do know the twins aren't Buddy's, because the twins were born before Buddy and I were teammates.”
“I am so sorry.” Brynn threw her body against mine, wrapped her arms tightly around my back, and buried her face in my chest. “I can't even imagine.”
“I almost wish I never took that damn test. It's like the doctors took something from me. And ever since, I've only wanted to forget it.”
“I know exactly how you feel. But to those boys, there's not a doubt in their mind. You are their dad. They look up to you so much.”
“I know.”
“Do you think you'll ever tell them?”
“Maybe when they're adults. If I were in their shoes, I'd want to know. As much as it might hurt.”
“Oh, Shea.”
“Just promise me that you won't ever treat them differently now that you know, Brynn.”
“Of course I promise.”
We held each other, gently rocking from side to side, our lives bound by a sweet misery.
“Thank you for telling me that,” she said at last.
“So yeah,” I said, “I've got some experience with adoption, in a way. Hopefully that means I'm still in the running for a date with you. A real date, that is; not Target.”
She laughed through gritted teeth, and tears began to well in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. “You're still in. But I'd be happy to go to Target with you any day.”
I wiped her tears away. “Aw, Brynn. Don't cry.”
She choked back tears. “You're a great man. A great father. Better than anyone knows.”
I kissed her on the head. “Thanks. It's hard to hear that but I appreciate it.”
She stood on her tip-toes and put her arms around my neck. I grabbed two handfuls of her ass and we leaned into each other. Our lips melted together with a juicy, fiery heat. We pulled ourselves into each other, tighter, closer. Her small hands grabbed and squeezed at my hard muscle; my hands pawed and groped at her soft curves.
We wanted each other.
I didn't wait around. I threw her over my shoulder and made for the stairs.
“Where are you taking me?” she squealed, her small fists pounding my back.
“To my bedroom.”
***
With Brynn over my shoulder, I bounded upstairs. I hadn't been able to stop thinking about it—our night after the gala, the tightness of her on my finger, the sweet tang of her on the tip of my tongue, the smells and sounds of her arousal.
I wanted it all.
Again.
Exactly as I had her before.
But this time, I'd have her all the way.
“I can't wait to go down on you again,” I snarled as I carried her down the hall.
“Shea!” she giggled.
I pushed my bedroom door open and threw Brynn into the bed. But before I could tear her out of her clothes, she sat up in a hurry.
“Wait,” she said, shooting a finger into my face.
“What?”
“My thong. I asked you where you put my thong, and you lied to me. I could hear it in your voice.”
“You … you could?” I asked gravely.
“Yes.”
Damn.
“So what'd you do with it?”
I groaned. This was the part of the night where I blew it with Brynn, again, all on account of being a giant perv. Silently, I cursed Radar's name for ever putting the idea of panties in my head in the first place.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes!”
“That night, I put your underwear back in my pocket.”
She folded her arms. “And what did you do with it after that? And where is it now?”
I went over to my suitcase, unzipped the side pocket, and pulled out her clean and neatly folded thong. I gave it to her. “Here.”
She inspected it skeptically. “You took my panties with you …? To Tampa?”
“Yes.”
“For God's sake, why would you do that?”
“I guess I couldn't let it go. I couldn't stop thinking about what we'd done. I liked carrying your thong around in my pocket. It kept me thinking about you all day.”
“Is that all you did with them?” she asked, grinning. “And don't lie to me. I'll know.”
I shook my head. “No, that's not all.”
“Tell me, then!”
I sighed and pulled out my phone. Without letting her see, I scrolled to the bottom of the photo gallery until I found the picture—her black thong, balled up and resting on my abs, and dripping with rivulets of cum. I stared at the photo, my heart pounding, afraid to turn the screen around to show her what I'd done.
“Show me.” She gestured for the phone. “I showed you my embarrassing photos.”
She had a point. “Fine.”
I turned the phone around. Her jaw dropped and her widened eyes feasted on the sinful photo.
“Shea!” she screamed. A twisted pleasure pulled the corners of her mouth up into a gleeful smile. “You came all over my panties? You are so dirty!”
“I know. I've never done anything like that before.” I shook my head in shame. “All I could think about that next day was you. How bad I wanted you. How close I came to having you. And then I was all alone in my hotel room and—well, you can see what happened. I couldn't help myself.”
“That is so … so wrong,” she panted. “Why did you take the picture?”
“I can't even say. I knew it was wrong to do. I felt guilty just looking at it. But at the same time? I thought it was really, really hot.”
Her eyes darkened. “You're right. It is really, really hot.”
Wha'?
Without another word, Brynn reached for my waist and unclasped my belt in a hurry. She yanked at my trousers and boxers until she had them both between my ankles.
“I want to suck your dick so bad.”
Her dainty hands wrapped around my thickening flesh. She tugged at my throbbing cock until it was as solid as steel in her fist.
“Damn,” I grunted, my mind still reeling. “That's good.”
“You like it, dirty boy?”
I nodded.
“Just wait.”
Brynn slid off the bed and knelt between my legs. Slowly pumping my cock in her fist, she stuck out her tongue and licked my length, from base to head, over and over again. Her eyes never left mine as she dragged her tongue up and down my manhood.
“Fuck, you're good at that,” I growled.
She turned and squeezed my balls in her tiny fist, kneading my nuts until pleasure bordered on pain. When I thought I couldn't take it anymore, she wrapped her lips around my balls and sucked, hard—until every last nerve in my body was on pins and needles.
A dewy bead emerged from the tip of my glans, leaving a shiny trail as it trickled down my shaft. Pre-cum—she had me excited. My cock pulsed and jumped in the air, begging for her mouth.
“You're leaking,” Brynn said. She licked it right up, whispering under her breath, “mmm, I love your taste. You better have more in there for me.”
“Brynn,” I groaned, “you're perfect.”
She locked her lips around my glans and pushed.
“Oh … My … God,” I bellowed as she buried me in the blistering wetness of her throat.
She moaned as she swiveled back up my length, treating me to the tightness of her cheeks.
“Holy fuck, Brynn.”
She pulled my manhood out of her lips with a suction-breaking pop. Glistening tendrils of her saliva dripped to the floor. She didn't give me much time to catch my breath—instead, she wrapped her lips around my manhood again and pushed, swallowing my inches down with a sexy purr.
Pleasured grunts and weakened groans filled the air as she worked me faster, harder, sloppier.
“You're so good at sucking cock,” I gasped breathlessly.
A pressure was building in my balls and quickly rising up my shaft. Am I going to come already? I tried to bear down and fight my climax off—but it wasn't any use. Once Brynn peeked up, I could see it in her eye—she could sense my closeness.
Her hand joined her mouth, and the two moved together in perfect harmony, stroking and sucking me from base to tip until my whole body trembled, quaking with rising ecstasy—
“I'm coming!” I roared at last, pulsing, throbbing.
Brynn's smiling eyes never strayed from mine as I spilled my seed in her mouth.
When it was done, she jumped into my arms and kissed me, and the two of us fell to the bed together.
She's amazing.