Sweet Spot for Victoria (Men of Baseball Book 4) (9 page)

“Babe,” Carlos grunts.

I ignore him. I’m too wrapped up in the savory deliciousness coating my taste buds. I jump when he takes my hand and sets it down on his lap, on top of his hard cock, which is straining beneath his jeans.

“Los,” I hiss, trying to lick sauce from the corner of my mouth.

“You can’t make noises like that while you’re sticking your fingers in your mouth,” he grinds out through clenched teeth.

“I’m hungry,” I whine. He wraps his hand around the side of my neck and wipes the sauce from my mouth before he pushes his sauce covered thumb between my lips.

“Want my cock right here in your mouth,
hermosa
. Watching you eat makes me so goddamned hard. Always has,” he shrugs and my hand wrapped around his cock twitches.

How did I not know this about my own husband?

Had I known, I might have made a show for him every single time I ate.

I grin and look up to him, shoving a cheese stick in my mouth and enjoying the warm cheese with an exaggerated moan.

Maybe I won’t make him wait so long to fuck me again ….

“Time to go,” he barks.

I roll my eyes. No way am I leaving my plate of food. I would stab him before I let him take this food away from me.

“I’m eating, Carlos, you can wait,” I say, narrowing my eyes at him as I continue to eat.

“Everything good?” Jarrod asks, setting two completely packed plates on top of the table across from me.

“Yeah,” I murmur distractedly as I watch him begin to inhale the food in front of him.

Jarrod looks up and flicks his eyes from Carlos to me, as if to make sure that everything is indeed
good
. I wonder what they talked about while we were separated into our girl and boy groups.

“What’s on the agenda for tomorrow,” Amalie asks as she sits down with her own plate of food.

“Brunch and then we have to check out. Reality time,” I say with a frown. The truth is out now, but I don’t feel any different. I should feel better about this whole thing, but I don’t.

“I’m so glad we have all of next week off to just relax. I need some downtime,” Carlos announces.

I feel the blood drain from my face. I forgot about his appointment for a vasectomy. I haven’t even told him about it yet
. I may have made the decision in haste...

“Are you all right, Victoria? You look really pale?” Amalie asks. I give her wide eyes, trying to tell her to shut the hell up, but she doesn’t get it.

“Maybe you should go lie down? You don’t look so good,” she encourages as I grimace.

Of course I don’t feel good, my husband has a vasectomy Monday and I have neglected to tell him. He’s going to freak the fuck out.

“Maybe I should go take a rest,” I stammer. Carlos catches on and I watch as his eyes narrow on me.

Oh, shit.

“Yeah, let’s take a
rest
,” he practically hisses.

Amalie finally catches on and mouths,
I’m sorry
. I give her a shrug and walk away from the table toward our room. It’s time to come completely clean.

My eyes are glued to the sway of my wife’s gorgeous ass as she walks in front of me. She’s hiding something else. I could tell by the look of panic on her face. I have known Victoria for over half of my life, the woman can’t hide shit from me. She may not always tell me every single thing, but I know when she’s freaked out, or when she’s hiding things, and she’s definitely hiding something.

I’m going to have to get it out of her.

My favorite way.

I’m going to fuck the truth out of my wife.

Again
.

I smile as I walk through the bedroom door and lock it behind me. I don’t want anyone to bother us.

“Are you going to tell me what’s got you turning white as a ghost,
morenita
?” I ask as I slowly shed my clothing.

I’ve had a few beers, but nothing compares to being drunk off of my wife. I lust for her constantly and right now is no different. I am going to apologize to her for my behavior,
of course
, but first, I want everything she’s keeping from me.

“Uh…” she stalls as she slowly takes off her own clothes—her cover-up, her little bikini top, and then that scrap of fabric she claims is the bottom. I hate how much skin she shows when she wears her bikini, but I love what it does to my dick.

“Answer me,” I bark, watching her pretty brown eyes jump to mine.

She nods before she opens her mouth to speak. Her next words rock my fucking world. They surprise me more than finding out I am to be a father again —
to twins
.

“I made an appointment for you to get a vasectomy tomorrow,” she quickly rattles off. I stand gaping at her.

Complete and total shock.

Cock hard and mouth open.

“You
WHAT
?” I scream.

I watch as her bottom lip trembles and then she starts to cry, again. I’m not buying her fucking tears this time.

Fuck no
.

“You need to get a ride with Jarrod and Amalie, I’m leaving Victoria. I can’t look at you right now,” I say as I quickly walk over to my suitcase and start to pack my clothes, still naked, still in shock.

“No, Los. Don’t leave. Let’s talk,” she begs.

I can’t look at her. The woman I love is making major decisions without me and it fucking hurts. This decision of hers doesn’t just affect her, it affects me, too, and she decided to do whatever she wanted. This isn’t like buying a new fucking couch, this is my goddamned nuts we’re talking about.

“I told you I can’t talk to you about this right now, Vic. I’m too fucking shocked and, frankly, I’m too fucking angry,” I confess as I quickly drag on a pair of athletic shorts and a t-shirt.

All my shit is thrown into my bag. I grab my keys and chance looking back at my wife.
The love of my life
. She’s standing at the side of the bed, naked, crying and trembling. Everything inside of me is begging to run to her and hold her, but I can’t. Shit isn’t that fucking simple.

“The kids,” she mumbles. I shake my head.

“Tell them I’m away at work. I’ll call you when I can,” I mutter turning to leave.

I can’t stay. I’ll fuck her and forgive her immediately if I do. I’ll probably forgive her anyway, but right now, everything is too raw.

How would she feel if I made an appointment for her to tie her tubes or get her a tummy tuck? I love her the way she is and no way would I change a damn thing about her; I wouldn’t take away her ability to have more children, not without consulting her first. This is a decision that we should make as a couple,
together
.

I leave my wife, pregnant with my babies, crying, and I feel like a total fucking shit for it.

I need time.

I need to process what has just happened.

It is too much, too fast.

First, she had my mind racing with what-if’s when she refused to tell me what was wrong. Then, she finally tells me and just throws it out there. I freak out, I can admit I freaked way the fuck out. Then, finding out we’re having not one but two new babies, I can’t even describe the pure elation and fear I felt all rolled into one.

Just when I start to accept the twin baby thing is happening, I mean I saw the pictures, it’s real and it’s happening, then my marriage starts to unravel before my eyes. I grasp at it but it’s slipping through my fingers and there’s nothing I can do about it. I feel as though I’m on the outside looking in, unable to control my actions and my reaction.

Finally, she throws a vasectomy at me, and not just the idea, no she made the fucking appointment. I can’t deal. I can’t handle it all. I have to leave or I’m afraid I’ll say something I can never take back. I don’t want to say something out of anger that will forever scar my Vic. Sure I say a ton of asshole shit to her but I don’t want to scar her. I love her too much.

I had to leave.

I watch in shock as Carlos walks past us and out of the Inn. He is pulling his suitcase behind him and doesn’t even look in our direction. He and Victoria just went upstairs a few moments ago and now he’s leaving, looking like an enraged bull. I take a step in his direction, but Jackson wraps his hand around my bicep to stop me.

“No, little bunny, it isn’t your business,” he warns, his voice low and lethal. It sends shivers down my spine and I love it.

“But Jackson, he’s leaving,” I point out.

Jackson shakes his head and pulls me into his side as his hand slides up my back and gently tugs on my hair.

“Something is wrong with them. Do you think they fought about the babies?” I ask.

Jackson shakes his head and wraps his hand around the back of my neck before he leans down and brushes his lips along my neck, right below my ear.

“They’ll work it out. They’ve been together a long time, babe. Just be her friend. Nothing else you can do besides that,” he murmurs against my skin. I feel as though I’m on fire.

Will he ever
not
make me feel this way?

“Do you need something, bunny?” he chuckles as I press my thighs together.

“Please,” I shamelessly beg.

“Get upstairs and wait for me next to the bed,” he commands.

I stand and practically sprint toward our room. Jackson laughs but I’m not ashamed or embarrassed. I’m horny and I want to play with my husband.

I quickly strip off my swim suit and flip flips before I sink to my knees next to the end of the bed. I wrap my hands around my elbows, behind my back, and spread my thighs before bowing my head.

I am waiting for my husband, my lover, my best friend, and my dominant. Dressed only in my collar and wedding rings, the most important pieces of jewelry I will ever own. I can’t imagine taking either of them off. I would feel truly naked without them.

I close my eyes and my breath hitches when I hear the door click closed, then the lock put in place. His soft steps come toward me and I instantly smell him –
Jackson
.

“What a good girl I have,” he says.

I listen to the sound of his clothes rustling and almost whimper when they all fall to the floor.

I am wet.

I am needy.

I am his.

“What does my good girl want?” he asks as his hand gently strokes the top of my head, petting me. I love it. I’ll always love any way he touches me.

“You,” I whisper hoarsely.

“Lift your head,” he orders, and I do.

I raise my head and then my eyes, looking right at him, his black eyes focused intently on me.

“Open your pretty mouth for me, Marguerite,” he groans, and I do.

I open my mouth as widely as I can.

Jackson slips his cock past my lips and down my throat in one deep plunge. I suppress my shiver and try to keep still as he slides his hands to the sides of my head. He twists his fingers in my hair, pulling tight as he begins to thrust, hard, deep, and slow in and out of my mouth.

“Every single fucking time, Marguerite,” he growls as he fucks my mouth, taking his pleasure with my body. I watch as his eyes turn wild and dark, as his thrusts become erratic and merciless.

Tears fall from my eyes and breathing is a luxury at this point, but I relish in it all. His fingers twisting in my hair causes pain to shoot throughout my scalp and down to my toes. If I could touch myself, I’d probably come within seconds. I whimper with need. He knows what he does to me, every time,
every single fucking time.