"I promise, Mom, I'm doing great," I say into the phone as I grab my last minute script changes off the printer to take downstairs. "It was rough at first and I still have my moments. But I feel stronger every day."She sighs. "I just wish you had come home instead of gone to Detroit. I would have taken care of you.""I wouldn't have even gone to Detroit if Rowen hadn't practically man-handled me into the car." Grabbing my head seat, I make my way to the stairs and the newsroom. "Besides, I didn't want you to see me like that. I was too ashamed.""Honey, you should never be ashamed around me.""That's easier said than done and you know it. I never wanted you to find out those things, Mom. I know you and I have a good relationship. But some things your mother never needs to know.""I know, I know. Just promise me you'll come home soon to visit. It's been too long.""I promise. But hey, I have to go. I've got about five minutes until my show starts.""Okay dear. I love you.""Love you, t
8 months later…The warm breeze blows through the open balcony doors, making the sheer white curtains billow out. It looks like a picture you would see in a magazine. But I barely notice. My focus is on the beautiful, naked creature in my bed.Tiffany is sound asleep on her stomach facing me. Her beautiful brown hair fanned across the pillow her head is on. I can't stop staring at her, listening to the puffs of breath coming from her as she sleeps peacefully. This is what we needed. To get away from everyone and everything. The season had been stressful. Not just on me, but on Tiffany as well. After the picture scandal broke, she couldn't sit in the stands anymore. Anytime she did, people would surround her, taking pictures and making comments. It'll eventually die down, we hope. But soccer fans never forget anything. It'll take some time before she will feel comfortable in Section 100 again.In the meantime, she sits in the box with Quincy and the other WAGS. She says it was a little
"This… " I say pulling it out of the box. "…was my grandmother's engagement ring. She wore it for fifty-seven years, until she passed away. And now, I'm hoping you'll wear it for fifty-seven more."She slowly moves her sunglasses to the top of her head, like she doesn't want to make any quick movements. "Tiffany, I love you. So much," I continue. "I love your brain. I love your beauty. I love your resting bitch face." A giggle bursts out of her and she quickly slaps a hand over her mouth. "I love your strength and your wit and your love of sports. I love that you work so hard at your job because you love it so much. I love your loyalty. I love your heart.""I… how did you get this ring?"I smirk. "My mam sent it te me a few weeks ago. When I told her I wanted to marry ye. My Maimeó gave it to her a few months ago, before she passed away, so I could give it ye."She looks up at me. "Your accent is coming out.""I'm a little nervous.""Why are you nervous?""Because I don't want ye to t
I groan deep in my throat and wrap my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to me. After several minutes of a lewd make out session that we'll see pictures of later, courtesy of our photographer, we break way and catch our breath."Are you ready for me to de-flower you?" she asks with a grin. I smile back."I've been waiting for it my entire life."We say our goodnights to the photographer and make our way back to our bungalow. She gives us a knowing smile as we walk away. Normally, I might be embarrassed by someone knowing what Tiffany and I are up to. But not tonight. Tonight, I'm going to make love to my wife.As we walk through the doors, I turn to close them. And if I'm honest, I'm trying to keep my hands from shaking with nerves. I want this to be good for her. Will she compare me to the others?No. There is no place for them here. She is my wife. She is mine. I turn around and see her standing next to the bed. Her long dark hair flowing over one shoulder. She lo
"Oh my fucking… uuuggghhh… You are never allowed to give me a blow job again this is so much better…" My words are practically incoherent. There's nothing I could possibly say that could even describe how it feels to make love to my wife."Rowen," she whispers and her breath catches. I realize she has tears in her eyes. I immediately still."What's wrong, baby," I ask as I kiss the tears that begin sliding down the sides of her face. "Why are you crying?"She tries hard to hold in a sob, but she can't hide the emotion from me. "Nothing's wrong. Don't stop," she says and I start moving slowly again. "I just never knew it could be like this. This… connection.""Oh baby." I smile at her. "This is what it's supposed to be like."A laugh bursts out of her and I kiss her again. I kiss her while I thrust in and out of her, feeling her hands touch me everywhere. I kiss her while I feel my orgasm building, and building quickly."Tiff…" I groan. "I want you to come with me. But I don't think… o
VOLUME 3: GOALIEThere she is.Looking at her, I can hardly breathe. She's beautiful. Gorgeous, actually. Long dark hair. Shapely legs that go for miles. Killer rack.Much more glam than my "mom" bod. I shouldn't be so critical of myself. I've had three kids in the last five years, and Theo is only a few months old. But it's hard looking at her, knowing I'll never have that body again. Is this why my husband strayed?No. I don't know that for sure. Maybe he really is just tying one on with the guys like he claims.But I've heard the talk. I know the rumors. And she has the answers I need. I just have to have the courage to ask for them.Ringing my hands together, I take a deep breath and approach her."Hi." Tiffany looks up at me with surprise. Usually the only one to talk to her during the games is Quincy, the team captain's girlfriend. Everyone else steers clear. Partly because Tiffany is a groupie - well, former groupie anyway. Now that she and Rowen Flanigan are together, she's o
"Mmmmmmm....." I begin to hum. I squeeze my eyes shut, shifting my body weight on my knees, and grab her hips tighter. I feel myself getting close to the orgasm I'm chasing.Suddenly, the door flies open, breaking me of my rhythm."What the fuck, man?" I shout, as Darren Pumin struts through the door."Sorry. I thought you were done.""Santos." Sasha reaches between her legs and strokes her clit. "Keep going, Santos. I'm so close."I ignore Pumin, who walks into the closet and rifles around. Instead, I look down and see Sasha's creamy, flawless ass. I slap it once, making her squeal and begin relentlessly pounding into her again."Hey, you want a Cuban?" Pumin yells from the closet. "I'm only bringing out a few.""Hang on," I shout back. "Let me finish here first."I thrust a few more times and Sasha clenches on the inside. "I'm coming!" she shouts and then screams through her orgasm."Right behind you, mmmmmmm....." Seconds later, my balls tighten up and I feel a familiar sensation a
I wake to sunlight in my eyes. That's weird. It never gets sunny on this side of the house early in the morning. Peeling my eyes open more, I realize it has to be much later than I thought for the sun to be coming through the blinds like that. It's eerily quiet in the house. I haven't heard Theo squeal yet and none of the girls have poked me in the nose or put barrettes in my hair. I think. A quick rub of my head confirms that. Exactly how drunk was I that I didn't hear them this morning? I should have known better than to take shots. It never ends well for me.Rubbing my face, I take a deep breath and sit up. Where is my family? Did Mariana take them somewhere so I can sleep? That sounds like something she'd do. She's thoughtful like that. Making my way to the fridge for some water to get rid of this cotton mouth, I stretch my arms out wide, cracking my back. The couch is comfortable, but nothing compares to my giant, king-sized bed. We dropped a pretty penny on that mattress last
The snick of the lock unlatching when I wave my key fob in front of the door is the first real sign that life is going back to normal. Well, as normal as life can be after a new little human has come into the world. But as I step through the door and into the newsroom, I realize nothing has changed. The scanners are still squawking. Reporters are still making calls and typing. Televisions still glow with every local station and CNN ready to be monitored. The only difference is the person at the assignment desk."Hi Tom," I greet as I grab a huge stack of mail I'll need to sort through upstairs. There's too much to go through down here."Tiffany." He tips his head at me and goes back to his business. Tom took over for Caleb when he moved upstairs. He's a little older than everyone else in the newsroom. His hair and neatly trimmed beard are almost gray. He's pleasant enough, just sticks to himself. We definitely don't have the same kind of rapport Caleb and I use to have.That also mean
Rowen makes sure we're all settled before kissing me on the top of the head and throwing on his sweats. "What do you want to eat? My mam brought bangers and mash.""I'll leave that for you," I joke, knowing it's his favorite. "But do we still have any of that grilled chicken salad? I don't know why but it sounds really good.""Yep. I'll go grab it for you."The last three months have been an adjustment, but overall, it's gone really well. Cace is a great baby, but I didn't expect anything less with him being Rowen's child. Well, that's not exactly true. A part of me always remembered Ryan is his grandfather, so I know there's some ornery in there waiting to come out. But for the most part, he's very docile. Cries when he's hungry, fusses when he's wet, but otherwise even-tempered. And my in-laws have been wonderful. Sure, the men argue all the time about the safest way to hold the baby or the best cleaning products. Denise and I just laugh at the ridiculousness and let them hash it ou
"Keep doing that," I moan, grabbing Rowen's hair and pulling him closer to my core. His tongue still does magical things to my lady parts and today, he's going to town. Licking, nipping, and sucking as he inserts two fingers inside me, hitting just the right spot. "Oh, that's it. Right there… ohgod…"My orgasm hits me fast and hard, just the way I like it these days. He continues to suck on my clit as the waves overtake me, riding me to that sated feeling I love. But he's not done yet.As soon as I've come back down to earth, he kisses up my body, paying special attention to the scar that now mars my abdomen. When I look at my stomach, I see flabby skin that hasn't tightened up yet and a knife wound. But Rowen tells me it's beautiful. That it's a reminder of the sacrifice I made to give him the best gift he's ever received - our son. Coming from anyone else, I'd say they were full of shit. But coming from Rowen, I know he means every word. Because of it, I still feel beautiful. It al
"I know you'll be here when you can, Mom," I say through FaceTime on my phone. "Really, all we're going to do for the next few weeks is sleep and eat anyway. Maybe bathe."Stroking the top of my son's head, I watch as he suckles on my breast. Yes, the dull pain of breastfeeding is there, but that doesn't take away the surreal feeling of being a new mom. It's amazing."I know." My mom sighs. "I'm just mad at myself. Of all the times to fall down some steps and break an ankle, this is the worst."I giggle lightly. "I still can't believe you did it at the gym.""And right after my kickboxing class too! I had just shown everyone what a badass I am, and three steps took me out.""Any muggers with ill intentions better beware of running into you in a back alley. Unless there are stairs involved." "Well, hopefully in the next few weeks, the doctor will clear me for travel. Then I'll be on the first plane there.""Sounds good to me." Baby Cace squeaks and pulls away from my breast, nuzzling h
The thoughts are overwhelming. I've never been this happy in my life, and I've only seen him for a split second. Lifting my head, I look around trying to catch another glimpse. Apparently, I'm not as subtle as I think I am."Would you like to see your son? You can go over there."Nodding, I stand up and follow the person over to a small table where my son is lying down, clearly unhappy by being poked and prodded. I don't blame him. I wouldn't like if all my glory was on display in front of these strangers either."Can I… can I touch him?" I ask tentatively, not sure what I'm allowed to do right now."Absolutely," the person says. "And talk to him. Babies like familiar voices."Slowly, I get closer, still in awe that I'm looking at my son. My son. It feels like I'm walking through a dream. Reaching down, I touch his tiny hand which immediately stretches and grabs my finger. The contact makes me suck in a breath. He's real. This is real. It's not a dream at all."Hello there, mo mhac. I'
I have dreamed about this day for months. Thought about every scenario on how it could happen. Planned for any situation. Prepared myself in every possible way.Except this one.Not one part of me anticipated I'd be standing in the hallway of the hospital wearing drab green scrubs with a matching surgical cap, waiting to join my wife in an operating room. And yet here I am, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't more nervous than I've ever been in my life.It's not just the operation. Yes, that is my immediate concern. As much as I like Dr. Hermann, he's getting ready to cut Tiffany open and pull our son out through a gaping wound. I'm sure there's more to it than that, but it basically boils down to that, and it's scary. What if he cuts the wrong part and he can't stop the bleeding? What if he accidentally cuts my child? What if she gets a major infection? The horrific possibilities are terrifying.Taking a breath to refocus my thoughts, I try to remember all the positives. Tiffany won't
I can practically feel his surprise when he shifts, situating us face-to-face. Thankfully, my doctor and my father-in-law have started chatting again, so Rowen and I can have some privacy. "Tiffany, this is just a change in the play. You of all people know how easily it can happen. I know this isn't soccer, but it's not that different. We go into every match with a plan, but sometimes it doesn't go like we expected. There's an injury or a new goalie." I smirk at his reference to the issues the team had early in the season. "The objective is always the same, but how we get there doesn't matter as long as we do. It's the same thing here. It doesn't matter how he gets here as much as it matters that it happens safely for both of you."I sniff again, but my tears have all but dried up. "We've been deflected."He nods and smiles at me. "Exactly. It's a change of play. But in the end, when we're holding him and taking care of him, we'll forget about everything except that we won."I chuckle
A low murmuring pulls me from sleep. I know it's only been a couple hours, but I feel so much better than I did. Damn that epidural for being as amazing as everyone said it would be.Peeling my eyes open, I roll slightly onto my back to see Dr. Hermann and Ryan chatting like old friends. A few seconds of eavesdropping and I finally catch the source of their newfound connection - Ireland. Apparently, Dr. Hermann spent a summer backpacking through Europe and caught a couple games when Ryan was in his prime and playing in front of his hometown fans. I'm sure the tales are tall right now, but at least their relaxed chatter means nothing wrong is happening on my side of the room.Glancing around, I finally catch sight of my husband who is sleeping soundly. I'm glad to see him getting some rest. He's been trying so hard to be strong for me. It's not gone unnoticed. But at last count he'd been awake for thirty hours. It was wearing on him."Ah, iníon sa dlí, yer awake."Ryan steps toward me a
Another eight hours. Another one centimeter dilated. Almost. I may be rounding up out of my own feeling of desperation. This entire experience is not at all like I expected. Not that I knew what was supposed to happen. Sure, we'd taken a birthing class one Saturday, but that was months ago when our schedules allowed us both to be there. And it never told us what would happen if Tiffany's body refused to do what it should. At least Tiffany's sleeping now. About four hours after the Pitocin began, she started crying, saying she couldn't do it anymore. She'd been awake for almost twenty-four hours and had been in some form of labor for over half of it. Plus, once the drugs kicked in, her contractions went from being painful to downright excruciating. It didn't take much convincing for her to finally decide to have the epidural. But it did take my Mam physically moving me out of the way to help her through all her fears - fear of a needle in her spine, fear of the drugs hurting the baby,